Gif is mine

For imagine request can i get some fluffy/cuddly morning sex with Pride.

Requested by Anon~

It wasn’t uncommon to wake up to Dwayne’s kisses. He almost always woke up first and felt it important to wake you in the nicest, most romantic way possible. Some days, his fingers stroked your hair or your skin. Other days, his lips would brush your ear and whisper words of love until you woke up smiling.

But this morning, Dwayne was mouthing your neck with hot kisses while his hands explored under your sleep clothes. You weren’t quite awake enough to register what he was doing; all you knew was you liked it. A lot. Dwayne smiled against your skin when you let out little moans and hoarse versions of his name.

Ultimately, he climbed on top, settling between your legs while yanking his boxers down. He was still kissing you, but the man was on a mission. One hand went down to position himself while his other came up, fingers interlocking with yours. Dwayne looked into your eyes with a soft look as he pressed in, and the both of you let out deep groans.

Your legs locked around his waist, and everything immediately fell into place. That’s what happened when two people knew each other so well; it was effortless. Dwayne’s gave slow, lazy thrusts as he kept kissing you, sometimes breaking to whisper that he loved you.

It was your favourite way to wake up, no question.

So today I realised something -
These skittles are cool, sure. But let me get needlessly deep a sec.
I always thought I didn’t like the yellow skittles, or the orange ones. So if I saw them in the pack I’d leave them or give them to someone else.
And today I’m munching on these white Skittles thinking “oh no I’m going to come across a yellow one any minute” and you know what? I must have come across a yellow one by now because almost the whole pack is gone. But you know what else? I’ve enjoyed every flavour I’ve put in my mouth this morning. I just think skittles have summed up the way things like homophobia work. They see the label, the ‘colour’ and think “wow, better stay away”, but if you take that away, chances are they’d enjoy the different flavours all the same.
Back to your regularly scheduled poetry soon everyone !!

1. I’m scared. I’m scared that everything I felt for you will never go away and I’m scared that I made our love story up in my head. I know I’m a bit of an exaggerater and I like the pain, but I’m sick of waking up to a bloody mouth every morning. I can’t stop biting my tongue in my sleep, but it’s the only way to keep me from screaming your name in the middle of the night.
2. I take every chance I get to wish for your name to pop up on my phone. But I wish for a lot more than just that. I wish I would have answered your call. I wish I would have asked you to lay down with me. I wish you wouldn’t have left.
3. I’m suffocating in my own skin. I can’t breathe without feeling your hand on my cheek, your lips on mine, your head on my shoulder. They say it takes two weeks for your skin cells to replace themselves, but it’s been two months and I can still feel you.
4. Sometimes I think that if I had seen you one more time, things would be different. Maybe I’d be falling asleep to the sound of your voice on the phone instead of choking on my tears. Maybe I’d be sneaking out to kiss you goodnight instead of sneaking out to kiss a stranger so I could forget you. Maybe you wouldn’t have left.
—  I know heartbreak hurts, but I didn’t think it would be this bad
Coffee and Creamer

Author’s Note: FINALLY! Thank you for being patient. To the two cupcakes who requested a sequel to The Mistress and to the cupcake who requested a blow job fic, I hope you enjoy!

You’d woken up to the smell of coffee and the faint sunlight peeking through the curtains. You rolled over in bed, tangling yourself in the soft, silk sheets, and looked at the time. He had 08:00 meeting that morning and by the distant sound of his voice, you could tell he was already tired. You knew it wasn’t easy being a CEO and, now that you were dating one, you realized just how much he gave himself to his company.  

You groggily got up and made your way to the bathroom. Pushing your hair out of your way to wash your face and brush your teeth, you tried to make yourself look fresh faced. You slipped into his shirt from the night before and followed the sound of his voice to the living room.

He was sitting hunched over his laptop, his glasses sitting dangerously close to the edge of his nose as he glossed over the multitudes of papers on the table. The voices on the telecom were talking over each other, crunching numbers and organizing deadlines, in what seemed like an overwhelming chaos. Nonetheless, your boyfriend calmly listened, writing notes here and there and interjecting his comments intermittently.

His looked up at you and smiled. You smiled back and, careful to be quiet, walked over to kiss him on the lips.

“Good morning.” You mouthed silently to him.

“Morning” he mouthed back.

You took the empty coffee cup from the table and went into the kitchen. You knew he drank his coffee black, but you couldn’t quite get over the bitterness and opened the refrigerator for some milk. You stopped, staring down at the little bottle of hazelnut coffee creamer in the shelf.  You mentioned how much you liked that particular creamer once days ago and here it was. Even though you’d only been officially dating for a few weeks, he’d already ensured that you had everything you needed when you were over from a toothbrush to feminine hygiene products and now your favorite coffee creamer. You stopped smiling like an idiot and closed the refrigerator, but it reappeared as you poured the coffees and went back to the living room.

He saw you coming with the reinforcements and patted his lap welcomingly. You blushed, placing his mug on the table before seating yourself on his lap.

“You’re the best. I love you.” He said quietly. You were rewarded with a quiet kiss on your shoulder before he regained his professionalism and carried on with his work call.

Despite the fact that you’d been fucking for over a year, these past few weeks felt brand new. You’d exchange shy looks over dinner as if you hadn’t already seen his cum face millions of times before. Simple, lingering touches or cuddles still seemed awkward at first regardless of how many evenings you’d spent bouncing on his dick or sitting on his face. Even quick “I gotta go or I’ll be late” kisses still made your stomach flip. It was all very strange, but you were enjoying it.

You reached over, pulling his face towards yours and kissed him affectionately. His flustered smile made your heart swell. You motioned for him to go back to his call while you busied yourself with checking your own schedule on your phone. He hadn’t been sitting for five minutes before you felt the familiar bulge beneath you. You turned to your boyfriend, who had a cheeky smile on his face, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I can’t help it. You’re just so sexy.” He whispered back, his deep voice making goose bumps raise over your skin. He shifted under you, adjusting you between his legs with a groan. “Baby…” he said in a voice you knew all too well.  

“Remember that you’re on a work call.” You murmured as a heat began to ignite in your lower belly. “You should be paying attention.”

“We’re wrapping up anyway.” He said, trailing kisses up your shoulder to the weak spot on your neck. You moaned softly and felt him smile against your skin. He spoke in Korean towards his phone to which another voice answered back. Switching back to English, he turned to you.

“Show Daddy what that pretty mouth can do, hmm?” He knew what to say to you to make you weak. You knew you should leave him alone and let him work. You hesitated, wanting him to maintain his professionalism rather than succumb to his own neediness. The erection pressed against you warned that it was probably too late for that.

“And when you’re whining and moaning my name?” you asked as you stood up from him lap, turning towards him and kneeling down between his legs. “What would your executives think of their CEO then?” you inquired as you pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you in just your panties. He didn’t answer, but the way the thin material of his pajama pants were tenting gave him away. His tongue glided over his lips cautiously as you pulled the edge of his bottoms down and took him in your hand. You kissed the head of his cock lightly, teasing him with feather light touches. You lazily licked at the shaft of his cock, focusing on coating him with your saliva rather than getting him off. You looked up at him, enjoying the strained look on his face. To your surprise, he was maintaining his professionalism quite well. You intended to change that. You pushed his knees further apart, raking your nails along his inner thighs. He sucked in a breath of air, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.  You gripped his dick and spit on it, using the flick of your wrist to erase any friction as you began to pump him.

“F-f-f-fuck.” He groaned quietly, sliding forward in the chair.

“I haven’t even done anything yet baby.” You teased, placing a kiss to his inner thigh. You playfully bit down on the place you’d just kissed, producing a surprised, throaty moan.

“Mmm, don’t do that sweetheart.” He warned, although it carried almost no threat judging by the way his eyes were glazing over.

“But I like the way it makes your cock twitch in my hand.” You said provocatively. His hand came down to caress your jawline as an airy smile played on his lips.

“I’ll cum too quick if you keep doing that.” he said.

You smirked and slowly took the head of his cock in your mouth. Swirling your tongue over his slit while gently sucking on the tip of him, you wrapped your fingers around his shaft. Even at such an erotic moment, you wanted to make him feel good. You wanted to show him how much you cared about him. You began doing what you knew he liked, pleasuring him as best you could. His breathing turned ragged as he tried to keep quiet.

His booming voice, loud and clear, startled you. He said a few things into his phone while slamming his laptop closed. You’d already forgotten that he was on a conference call, the sound of his executives had become background noise long ago. He said a few more hurried words then pressed the end call button on his phone repeatedly before tossing it across the room and onto the sofa. You would have giggled if not for the lustful, almost carnal, look in his eyes. He reached down for you, grabbing you by the sides of your face and kissed you intensely. You moaned into the kiss as his fingers moved down, gently squeezing around your throat. Just as quickly, he pulled away from you, his teeth pulling at your bottom lip. You let out a small whimper at the loss of contact.

“Baby.” He said breathily. You looked up at him through your eyelashes. He looked gorgeous with his blown pupils and swollen lips. “Take your panties off.” He groaned, “I want you to play with that pussy while you suck my cock.” His words had you soaking through your panties almost instantly. You obeyed, stopping long enough to step out of your panties and kick them aside before squatting back down. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock again, bobbing your head up and down in a steady rhythm. With newfound fervor, you pleasured him with your mouth while taking your free hand and gingerly touching yourself. You were surprisingly sensitive. Turning him on turned you on. You slowly circled your clit, moaned around his dick at the feeling. He moved his hand to your hair, gathering it up into a pony tail.

“You’re so gorgeous, baby.” He moaned. You relaxed your jaw, taking as much of him as you could. You could feel his hips jerking and knew he was close. You bobbed your head in time with his thrusts, moaning and drooling down his cock until his hips stilled and ropes of hot cum coated your throat. You swallowed around him, causing him to shriek out in pleasure and pain. You leaned back, still dazed, and admired how fucked out he looked.

“Come here.” He said. You stood up and leaned into him, bringing your lips to his hungrily. He kissed your back, tasting himself on your lips. His hands snaked around your thighs, his hands cupping your ass and hoisting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctively while kissing along his jawline and nipping at his neck. He plopped you down on the table (on top of all his paperwork). He kissed your lips, trailed down to your décolleté, sucking lightly on the skin above your collarbone and down to your breast. Wrapping one of your peaked nipples in his mouth and pinching the other, you threw your head back at the sharp but pleasant feeling. He switched, giving each nipple equal parts of pleasure and pain.

“Babe…” you moaned, trying to urge him to go lower.

“Lean back baby.” He pressed gently. You lay back on the table. “I want your legs up.” He said, pushing your legs up towards your face. You grabbed your calves and held your legs in place for him. “That’s it, baby girl. Just like that.” You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips on your thighs. He bit down, almost exactly where you’d bitten him earlier, and playfully sucked on the soft skin while he massaged your opposite thigh. As good as this felt, you needed him in another place.  

“Baby…” you squirmed. He smiled darkly as he seated himself between your legs.

“You’re so wet for me.” he groaned. He carefully outlined your pussy. His faint touches made you squirm, tickling and tantalizing all at once. He smirked, fully aware of the affect he had, and continued to tease you for what seemed like hours.

“You are so rude!” you yelled out in frustration. He giggled childishly, his face shinning with mischievous joy.

“You like when I play with your pretty pussy, don’t you?” he asked as he began to rub circles into your clit with the pad of his thumb, making you jerk in pleasure. All of his teasing had made your clit hypersensitive.

“Yes, but please…” you urged, trying to relieve some of the pressure building. The more you moved towards him, eager to feel him, the more he pulled away.

“Please what? Tell Daddy what you want.” He teased, punishing you by firmly spanking your clit, sending satisfying shocks up your body. You yelped out, arching your back towards him.

“Fuck me, please.” You moaned out in frustration.

“Hmmm, no…not yet.” He said, “I want you to cum on my tongue first.” You almost screamed when his warm tongue finally brushed over your clit. He circled over your clit before running his tongue up and down your pussy and stopping at your clit again. “You taste so good, so sweet.” He praised, lapping noisily at the arousal pooling at your entrance. You were weak for his praise. You moaned loudly with each trace of his tongue, each lick, each bite. You weren’t going to last very long, every touch bringing you closer and closer to your climax. He flattened his tongue on your clit and shook his head quickly, making your whole body contract.

“Spread your legs.” He said looking up at you, his tone gentle yet firm. You weakly complied, if only enough to keep from suffocating him. He returned to his work, his tongue gliding across your pussy with ease. He didn’t let up, applying the perfect amount of pressure and sloppily making out with your clit. You reached out for his shoulders as your moans turned into screams.

“Don’t stop! You’re gonna make me cum!” you warned. He gripped your thighs tightly as he brought you crashing into a mind blowing orgasm. He guided you through a second orgasm, his tongue never leaving your clit until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

He sat back in the chair and licked his lips. You looked over at him, his mouth slick with your juices. He winked at you as he wiped his mouth with the back on his hand.

“That was so fucking sexy, baby.” He said. He stood up and pushed the chair out of his way. Grabbing your legs, he pulled you to the edge of the table. You watched as he pumped himself in his hand before positioning himself between your legs. You bit your lip in anticipation, but instead of fucking you senseless he began tracing the tip of his cock against your labia with a look of concentration.

“Don’t fucking tease me, please!” you mewled. He groaned deeply, the guttural sound making you wetter (if that was at all possible).

“Really baby?” He taunted as he wiggled his cock against your clit. “After all those times you would tie me up and leave me begging for you to touch me? Don’t tell me you can’t handle a little overstimulation.” Any other time, you would have wiped that smug look off his pretty face, but right now he deserved to gloat. Your pussy was throbbing so hard you thought you’d cum a third time if the wind blew on it.

“Please baby, please just fuck m – OH FUCK” you moaned out in unison as he entered you, the mixture of your slickness and his pre cum allowing him to fill you effortlessly. His grip on your thighs would no doubt leave a bruise, but neither of you cared at the moment. He pulled out completely before slamming back into you, the loud sound of skin on skin and your mutual moans filling the room. He fucked you in earnest, giving you everything he had left in him. You held onto whatever your hands could reach, your eyes rolling in the back of your head in pleasure as his thrusts became jerkier.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He huffed in between ragged breaths. You nodded, words escaping you in favor of moans. “Rub your clit for me, baby.” He said huskily, sweat beginning to pour down his face and onto your stomach.

“B-but, it’s too sensitive.” You squealed. Hearing you disobey, he looked at you with a frown and reached up and grabbed your cheeks gently, tilting your head back.

“Right now.” He ordered, placing a kiss on your lips. Despite the gentleness in his voice, there was a dark dominance behind it that you didn’t dare disobey. You did as you were told, moaning as your body jerked at the sensation. Your orgasm hit you by surprise, making your body convulse in ecstasy.  His (whiny) orgasm was seconds later, your contracting walls milking his orgasm out of him.

He collapsed on top of you, his sweaty body weight comforting you in the aftermath. While you both regained your breaths, he began peppering your face with kisses, stopping frequently to savor the taste of your lips while his fingers gently rubbed soothing circles into your hips. All of his dominance was now replaced with sweetness and gentleness. You held onto him tightly, feeling a fresh wave of affection for him. You could feel his heart beat pounding in his chest. It was calming.

“I love you” he said. You kissed him again, smiling up at him when he pulled away for air.

“I love you too.”

1. you dream of green, of a world where you do not hold him in you like a purple wound; gaping, savage and angry. in this universe, he does not whisper out of your room at six in the morning 
while your mouth still reeks of crying

2. you spent the first three weeks sick, voice an empty mailbox. others pitied your silence, but you were secretly fond of it, of the listening and the witnessing, of remaining apart and together at once; if someone had looked closer you might have come apart - the stories they imagined
didn’t bubble so much as leak like when you were young you were at a lake and scooped up pebbles and let them drop back into the water,
grain by grain,
learning how to sow

3. what comes forwards from the closet is always the same figure, and his mouth is never there. you got the house blessed but there’s still demons. you are also numb and speechless, also a figure, but a figure that represents more than a figure that exists. who are you in the minds of other people? this idea haunts you more than the ghost, who of course is only doing his job, so you forgive him.

4. four is a bad number.

5. you spat it up with your toothpaste into the white porcelain of the sink you grew up with. the sink you have stained with paint and hair dye and lipstick. you feel like seafoam, floating and irresolute, a saline solution that mimics the art of blood, pumping through veins that constantly argue.

6. you miss him so much you attempt to write a poem about it and instead fixate on the skin by your fingernail, ragged and raw like lung meat.

7. for a moment, you think of saying
i’ll be good,
come back to me.
you could tear off your loose bits even if it meant using teeth.

8. eight is also a bad number. four and four. two eyes, or a headless snowman, or the day before her birthday, or also one more than seven, a good number, the down after the up. the wheel always turns, seven always turns to eight, and you always get left behind.

9. inside of a panic attack, you remind yourself that he would have hated seeing you like this.

10. maybe it wasn’t him but rather how you looked in the mornings.

11. the problem is that wounds always stitch with white skin, scar tissue, bloodless memories in physical form, your body’s complaint list against you, a tally of your sins and how many times you’ve let down yourself and everyone around you, like you stand not in a puddle but a halo, an aura of defeat, a mobile mass of tiny moments, each with their own mouths and teeth.

12. you learned about the nature of scars naturally, and then unnaturally, and then again in tenth grade biology. you thought there was something funny and sad and odd that your body won’t put blood back into the places you’ve scratched it out. as if that could get you to stop picking wounds. when you were little and in pain the first thing you did was shove whatever was bleeding into that maw of yours. you suck on pain. succor it.

13. you itch a scab off by accident. new blood crawls out, hungry and demanding. thirteen is a fine number. prime number. the incident of your mental illness is undiscussed, a featherlight touch in your poems.

14. fourteen isn’t a bad number but it’s not a good one. when you turned fourteen you didn’t know you loved her. a summer spent like stamps, shipped and shattered, freshly licked. you cut yourself on the envelope, and your tongue bled.

15. is that what this is about; bleeding tongues.

16. is that what this is about; forgiving him and moving on.

17. is that what this is about; no more air in my lungs.

Russian palindromes

А Луна канула – And the Moon has sunk

Гене давал Слава денег – Slava used to give money to Gena

Зубрам и лосю солим арбуз – We marinate watermelon for the bisons and the elk

Буду жив, увижу дуб – If I live, I’ll see the oak

И киты – нытики – Even the whales are moaners

Велика, как и лев – She is big, as is the lion

И любит Сева вестибюли… – And Seva likes lobbies

Или сарказм закрасили? – Or have you painted over sarcasm?

Киборгу гробик – A small coffin for the cyborg

Коту скоро сорок суток – The cat will be 40 days old soon

Лето хотел – He wanted summer

Муза, ранясь шилом опыта, ты помолишься на разум – Muse, when you cut yourself with the awl of experience, you will pray to the mind

Мухи и их ум – Flies and their intellect

Нажал кабан на баклажан – The boar pressed on an eggplant

Не диван, а виден – It’s not a couch, but it is visible

Не долог год, а дог голоден – The year is not long, but the mastiff is hungry

Порист сироп – The syrup is spongy

Сенатор крота нес – The senator was carrying a mole

Тише, тарелка маклера тешит—Be quiet, a plate is amusing the broker

Торт с кофе - не фокстрот! – Cake with coffee is not foxtrot!

Удавы рвали лавры в аду – Boas tore laurel in hell

Утро во рту – A morning in the mouth

Dark Nights (Part 3)

Originally posted by spnfans

Summary: Dean brings the reader back to the bunker where they realize the Alphas are a much bigger problem then they thought…

Dark Nights Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Some thoughtful, protective Alpha Dean for ya…

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Risk and Reward

Pairing:Barista!Lin x Reader

Requested?: Nope! It just came to my head one day and I ran with it.

Summary: You stop by a café to grab coffee on your way to work, said café also has a really cute barista.

Words: 5k+

Part One | Part Two

A/N: Well here we are. I had this idea for a real long time but it just never came together. Now I have gotten my shit together (thanks Ale and Kate) and I think I can start this series! Shoutout to Taryn for being a huge inspiration behind this series. Work Comes Home was the reason this idea even became an actual fic and not a passing thought. I really hope you guys like it!

Tags: @fragmentofmymind @secretschuylersister @hamiltonwrotetheother51 @thehamiltonpost @icanneverbesatisfied @sharkastic-issues @villagecrazypeggy @butlinislin @daveeddiggsit @nadialinett14 @librarychild @spidey-boii @me-hoy-me-trash @serkewen12 @daveedish @linmanuclmiranda @autistic-alien @runnerriley @hamilsquad-writings @thegirlonhamilton

You quickly entered the coffee shop, shuffling up to the counter with a panicked expression. Your bus was coming soon and you were running late for your first day at a new job.

“Hi, can I have two medium iced caramel lattes?” You rushed out, already opening your wallet to find your debit card. You got it out and held it towards the barista who was just staring back at you.

“Is there something on my face?” You asked, running your hand over your cheek.

The dark-haired man seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was in, blinking rapidly as he straightened his posture.

“Oh! No, no I’m sorry ma’am. I, uh, I…” He struggled to finish his sentence and you giggled lightly, he was sort of cute.

“It’s okay. I space out too,” you paused to look at his nametag, “Lin.” You finished, holding out your debit card once again.

He nodded, taking your card and looking at the screen in front of him and pausing.

“…I’m sorry what did you order again?” Lin smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

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sherlock’s list of john’s kisses

  • good morning closed mouth kisses
  • good night kisses
    • quick peck rates at 2/10
    • serious kiss rates at 5/10 
    • forehead rates at 8/10
    • sleepy smear at whatever part of me he can reach rates at 10/10
  • the “I’m interested if you’re interested” kiss
  • the “I’m definitely interested” kiss
  • the “maybe later” kiss
  • the “maybe once you scrape whatever that used to be off the ceiling” kiss
  • the “oh my god I’m so exhausted but keep doing that” kiss
  • the “oh my god I’m so exhausted no thank you” kiss
  • the “ok right now please” kiss
  • the “I just had a nightmare and I’m sorry but I need some space” kiss
  • the “I just had a nightmare and I need you here” kiss
  • the “you just had a nightmare what do you need” kiss
  • the “no one had a nightmare but I woke up in the middle of the night and you look so beautiful I had to do something” kiss
  • stop and pause in the middle of sex kiss
    • because I asked rates at 10/10
    • because we got too close too fast rates at 10/10
    • because he wants to slow down and take his time rates at 10/10
    • because I asked him to speed up and he’s laughing at me rates at 9/10
  • milky tea kisses in the afternoon
    • when it’s raining add +2
  • garlicky kisses after pasta
    • when it’s pasta from angelo’s +2
    • when it’s pasta john made +3
    • when it’s pasta john made when it’s raining +4
  • kisses when john is smiling
    • giggling +4
    • laughing +2
    • pretending to be cross +1
  • at a crime scene kisses
    • because I solved it +2
    • because john solved it +3
    • because someone got flirty with me +3
    • because someone got shirty with me +3
    • because someone got flirty with john +5
  • because he can kisses
  • because he can’t not kisses
  • because I said something he thought was charming
  • because I didn’t say something, for seven years, and almost not at all
  • because it’s christmas
  • because it’s my birthday
  • because it’s his birthday
  • because it’s 29th january
  • because it’s our annivesary
  • because I said yes
Morning Light

Filthy smutty smutty smut. That’s all this is.

Please enjoy and send me your feedback! I love hearing your thoughts!


When I woke up, I could feel his breath hot and heavy on the back of my neck; his arms were tightly secured around my waist. My back was pressed to his toned chest; his left thigh was trapped between my own. He was snoring lightly. There was a little light coming through the crack in the curtain. I guessed that it was still pretty early morning.

I rolled over in his arms to face him. There was a beam of light illuminating his face. His eyes were closed, eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. His lips were parted slightly, but there was a trace of a smile there. I petted my knuckles down his jaw line before leaning forward and pressing a light kiss to his soft, pink lips. He stirred in his sleep and his eyes fluttered open slowly. I kissed the corner of his mouth and leaned back again. When I opened my eyes he was regarding me thoughtfully, a sleepy smile spread slowly across his lips. I grinned and nuzzled my nose against his.

“G’morning,” he greeted, his morning voice deep and raspy, vibrating the air around my mouth.


“Sleep well, love,” he asked. I nodded my head.

“Mhmm,” I purred, “How about you,” I whispered as I traced his plump lips with my fingertip.

“Much better now that I’m here with you,” he replied quietly. I looked into his bright green eyes as I smiled again and he smiled back at me. I wrapped my fingers around the back of his neck and pressed my lips to his. The hand on my waist pulled me flush with him. I was wearing a t-shirt and panties but he was fully naked as per usual. I placed my palm on his bare chest as he closed his mouth around my bottom lip, gently sucking before releasing it.

I felt his cock stir against my leg as his hand made its way up my shirt; his fingertips gently ghosting up my stomach. My tongue flicked out and licked at his bottom lip before pressing my mouth back on his. He rolled over on top of me and I welcomed the weight of him, having been too long since I had last felt it.

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Got the Be More Chill book by Ned Vizzini from the library after listening to the musical

  • Jenna is the Coolest girl in class (caps from the book), and her pool of gossip is pretty much limited to her friend Elizabeth and said friend’s “sluttiness”.
  • I want to like the detail of Jeremy’s “Humiliation Sheets,” spreadsheets where he tallies day-to-day embarrassments like being laughed at or ignored, but every time they’re brought up it’s… super weird?
  • So far what we know about Jake is, “The big story was that Jake Dillinger had sex with his model from Czechoslovakia who was dating his dad, which I believe.  Jake can do anything.”  He’s brought up a few more times, and Jeremy makes sure to mention this model each time.  (Is this supposed to be impressive???  I’m just super creeped out by every aspect of this)
  • There’s a kid named Mark Jackson talking to a kid named Jackson Marks
  • Jeremy: “I just look at [Christine] and think about her a lot because she’s beautiful, you know?  I mean she’s intelligent and sweet and everything else that a girl is supposed to be to offset her beauty, but even if she were idiotic and mean, she’d still be beautiful and I’d still be contorted.”  Uhhhh…
  • Speaking of Christine, I was afraid she’d have 0 personality.  I was wrong.  She has 1 personality, and that personality is, “Girls make no sense, bro.”  Everything Jeremy says to her, she finds fault with and berates him for.  Now, I’m all for girls being allowed to get frustrated, but Christine’s written as a absolute jerk for the sake of making a point about “girls not being easy to reduce into a series of instructions to follow”.
  • We meet Michael in the cafeteria.  “Michael smiles and lets chewed fish-cheese roll through the gap in his teeth.  It plats onto the tray in front of him.”  I’m charmed.

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siriusblaac  asked:

hiiii guys!!! do you have any pianist!stiles or pianist!derek fics?

heres some pianist derek

sometimes fate is like a small snowstorm by thepsychicclam (1/1 | 8,145 | R)

In a coffee shop two days before Christmas, Derek meets Stiles. Despite neither of them being interested in relationships, they spend an unforgettable evening together, but then part ways. During the following years, Stiles competes in the Olympics, Derek tours the world - and neither of them forget. Then twelve years later, two days before Christmas, Derek finds Stiles in that same coffee shop.

aka a kinda sorta serendipity au

Stiles by MasterTLA (1/1 | 628 | G)

Derek never understood what they meant when they said, ‘Your soulmate will be revealed to you while you are doing something you love.’ What was that supposed to even mean? Would he be eating his favorite pizza and a face appear in the sauce? Would he be reading a book when suddenly random words were replaced with the name of his beloved?

It never made sense to him until the day that it actually happened.

Play it for Me by bioloyg (1/1 | 5,622 | PG13)

For the longest time it sat in the corner of his apartment hidden beneath a blanket, gathering dust. Sure, every once in a while he’d uncover it, tune it, and clean it off, but that was the extent of it. He could never force himself to sit down and play, get lost in the movements of his hands and the melody of a song.
OR the one where Derek is a landlord and plays piano and someone takes notice.

A Segue, I Suppose by IAmAVeronica (5/? | 19,126 | NC17)

Derek’s face turns bright red. “What…were you listening to me?”

Stiles opens his mouth, ready to tell Derek that the Derek had led him here with the music like some sort of snake charmer, and he can’t believe how good Derek is, and will Derek please play something else because listening to him had been the first thing to make Stiles happy since he’d woken up this morning. Then his mouth snaps shut as he remembers that he’s talking to Derek Hale. The boy who used to be his best friend. The boy he’s been watching Jackson torture all throughout high school. The boy whose summer transformation from sullen wimp to sex god has been keeping Stiles’s brain and dick occupied all day with some veryinappropriate fantasies.

So instead he just says lamely, “Did you write that?”


Derek is the school loner who plays the piano and Stiles is the jock who becomes enamored of Derek and his music. It could be a “Hallelujah Chorus” kind of love, if they’re able to forgive the past and brave the present together–and deal with the person who has been in love with Stiles for years, and won’t give Stiles up without a fight.

Circumstance (Part 13)

This chapter is actually really fluffy and nice if you can believe it lol

Tagging: @aelinxfeyre @vilya1 @a-courtof-fangirls-and-fanfics @autumn03@rhysandpurred @crazybookladythings @devilsadvocate15@marimarac @carolineherr15 @musiccbeach @illyrian-wingspans @illyrianinterrasen @meowsekai @iwishitwasrocketscience @gavrielthelionn @2-bookmaster-2 @bluephoenix222 @daughterxofxnight @highladyofthedark@sugarcoated44 @fandoms-things-stuff @helloprinceling @wolffrising @the-court-of-terrasen @gcarroll @throne–of-sass @rowanismybae @peachyyymeg (let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!)

Rowaelin Daughter x Feysand Son au

Fic Masterlist

“Dad,” Cade’s voice breaks as he addresses his father. “You can’t ask that of me. You can’t just tell me that I can never see my mate again.” The words themselves send a fierce, painful jolt through his body. The string that connects him to Ember pulls at his gut. He reluctantly pushes the feeling down so that he can focus on the conversation at hand.

Rhys’ eyes close for a couple moments, as if he too is having a hard time coming to terms with the circumstances. “Cadewyn, please.” There is fear in his eyes, genuine fear as he grips Feyre’s hand atop the table. Cade realizes that his father believes they may be in actual danger. He briefly wonders who their adversary could be that could render his usually fearless father so scared. There hadn’t been a war in Cade’s short lifetime, but he’s heard enough from the war with Hybern to know that they had been very close to losing. He also knew that his father had been among the hundreds who had died, and he was one of the only two who had come back. The other is sitting next to Cade.

“We wouldn’t be asking this of you if there was any other way,” Amren’s voice sounds like it’s trying to be sympathetic, but failing. Her calculating mind knows that this is the right thing to do, to save many people and preserve peace. “I’m sure Ember understands why we can’t take the risk either.”

That makes Cade freeze up. “I wouldn’t know what Ember thinks though, would I? She was wrenched from me the second you all got involved.” He is silently cursing himself for not being more careful with her, for not taking precautions. He had practically pranced down one of the main streets of Velaris with her in tow for everyone to see. How could he have been so stupid? “I don’t even think she knows that we are mates, yet.” He mumbles, mostly to himself.

Feyre shares a glance with Rhys. “I’m not saying it will be easy to leave her, Cade, but perhaps it’s for the best,” she is still holding her husbands hand, their entwined fingers resting comfortably on the table in front of them. Cade’s gaze zeroes in on that sign of his parent’s love and support of one another. His breathing becomes ragged as he entertains the possibility of never achieving that with Ember.

“She’s my mate,” he grounds out, “Dad, you would never have accepted this. You would have fought for mom until you’re dying breath.”

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Expressing Emotions (I.M x Reader)

Originally posted by vitunkpoppi

Admin: Mimi

Prompt/Ask: Can I request a soft but smutty type of scenario with Changkyun from Monsta X? Thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

Fandom: Monsta X

Genre: Smut, fluff

Pairing: I.M/Changkyun x Reader

Warnings: sex (obviously lmao)

Word Count: 1681

Authors Note: YES MY BIAS CHANGKYUN I LOVE HIM GOD. *ahem* Thank you for the request! I hope this is to your liking since you asked for soft (I’m a sucker for soft smut). I love Changkyun, he’s just amazing, so I hope I did him justice ^^ Let me know if you enjoy this! Happy reading as always!

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B99 + Tinder AU: in which Jake and Amy match on Tinder. 
→ set pre-show/early season onewritten after I impulsively downloaded Tinder instead of working on my other AU in progress

In a moment of insanity and slight tipsiness, she lets Kylie download Tinder on her phone. (”Amy, what do you want your Bio to say?” “Ooh, how about how I’m in a nationally-ranked trivia team?” “Nope, none of that.”)

In a moment of four-drink-drunkenness, she swipes right on Jake Peralta. 

She wakes up on Saturday morning with her mouth dry and her head pounding. Groaning, Amy lifts one hand to shield her eyes from the way-too-bright light streaming in through the curtains. With her other hand, she gropes blindly for her phone on the bedside table. When she doesn’t find it immediately, she drags herself out of bed and makes her way toward the kitchen. 

She gets herself a glass of water and fishes her phone out of her purse, which was on the floor just a few paces away from the messy heap of fabric that was her coat and scarf. 

She opens her phone, and her eyebrows scrunch together at the notification on the screen: “Congratulations! You have a new match!

Her eyes flicker to the icon accompanying the message. The small red flame brings back hazy memories of the night before - Kylie taking her phone hostage and downloading the app, Kylie setting up her profile, the two of them cracking up while swiping left and right for an hour. 

She sips from her glass and pulls up the app with a sigh. She taps the screen a few times to check her matches and messages, bracing herself for anything inappropriate and praying she didn’t send out anything too terrible herself. (She doesn’t recall doing any messaging of her own, but she also doesn’t recall getting home and throwing her jacket on the floor, so.) 

She chuckles at a few of the messages and grimaces at others, but her heart nearly stops, and she almost drops her glass when she scrolls down and sees a very familiar name.

In his tiny profile picture, he’s looking somewhere off camera and has a single eyebrow raised. His lips are drawn into a somewhat half smirk, half smile. For some reason, she can just hear Gina’s voice, giving him directions on how to pose. (”Okay, Jake. Remember, we’re going for sexy, but not like we’re trying too hard. Like, sure, we’re trying, but it’s almost effortless.”) 

There’s a blue star on his photo, and Amy vaguely recalls Kylie telling her this means he swiped up to “Super Like” her. Her ears burn at the idea Jake would ever actually super like her. 

After setting her glass down on her coffee table and taking a seat on her couch (to avoid breaking glassware, falling over, or other potential consequences), she takes a deep breath and opens up his messages. 

santiago’s on tinder?! whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?!?!!! were the magic themed singles nights not working out for you? :o

gotta say i’m supes flattered you swiped right

but fyi i’m totally going to bring this up at briefing on monday

the whole world has to know i matched with amy santiago!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She rolls her eyebrows but continues reading. 


unless you don’t want me to?? 


k you’re not replying

that tells me you either passed out in shock after matching with me (tbh i get it, nbd) 

or you and kylie are having the craziest night of your life :P 

There’s a new timestamp before the next message, and when she checks, she finds he sent it over half an hour after the prior one.

look i’m only saying this cause you swiped right first but if this wasn’t a joke and you were actually interested, i’d be up for dinner or whatever 

It’s the last of his messages, and it sends her reeling. 

Heart racing and hands shaking, she fumbles with her phone to call her best friend. She figures the woman who got her in this mess should help her out of it.

“H-hello?” Kylie’s voice is hoarse and weak, and this makes Amy feel a teensy bit better about her own hangover. Except she’s still freaking out. 


There’s a laugh on the other line. “Honey, you grabbed your phone from me to swipe right the second his face came on the screen and then yelled at it when he hadn’t responded within 30 seconds. You didn’t even bother reading his bio - although I checked, and it was just full of Die Hard quotes and emojis… Not the best or most creative. Like what does that even mean dating-wise? What does that tell you about him as a potential lover? Nothing, Amy, nothing. The only thing it says is that his ideal date is probably a Die Hard marathon and make out session.“

“Oh, God, can we not analyze Peralta’s Tinder profile right now?” 

You asked about him! Anyway, what’s up, boo? Did your smoking hot partner actually match with you?” 

“Smoking hot?”

“Your words, not mine.” 

Her cheeks flare up at that, and she groans. She combs her free hand through her hair. “He might have… sent me a bunch of messages and said he was up for dinner or whatever if I was actually interested.”

Kylie makes a high-pitched squeal, and Amy has to bring her phone away from her ear for a second. When she brings it back, her best friend’s talking a mile a minute. “So you are going out with him, right? There is no way in hell you are passing this up, Amy. You’ve been into him forever! You know what, I’m ending this call right now. You need to message him back or text him or call him or something. Text me updates ASAP!” 

The line goes silent after that, and Amy’s left with a bigger headache than the one she woke up with. 

After staring at the ceiling for another minute or hour (she can’t tell), she goes back into the app and pulls up his message. Throwing all caution to the wind, she sends: Hey! :) Are you free tonight?

His reply comes almost instantaneously, which is good because she otherwise would have gone insane.

ya! what do you want to do?? i’m up for anything ;)

ps that winky face wasn’t meant to be sexual or anything, we could literally just sit and talk and eat

or something

no pressure 

An increasingly familiar swell of affection rises in her chest. She pauses to consider her response. Die Hard and takeout at my place?

noice. i’ll be there @ 6

can’t wait, ames!!!!!!! ♥

A series of knocks sounding vaguely like the Imperial March announces his arrival later. Amy tucks her hair behind her ears, takes a deep breath, and gets the door. 

Jake has a boyish grin on his face and a spark of amusement in his eyes. “Y’know, Amy, Tinder’s Safety Tips page says you’re always meant to meet someone in public. I hope you don’t invite all your matches to your apartment for movie night. What would Holt say if you got murdered? How would we explain your death to your parents?”

She chuckles and rolls her eyes. Just like that, all the nervousness she felt dissipates. “Come in, Jake.” 

The night ends up going on both of their good date lists. - They order Chinese and fight over the last egg roll. Jake recites half the lines of the movie. (Only half because Amy shushes him at some point). They make out on her couch as the end credits roll over the screen. 

They also delete their Tinder accounts. 


Good Morning

Nessian for an anonymous request for the Kiss prompt #6, lazy morning kisses.  This can work on its own, or fits into the general big Nessian fic after Distracted and before Flying Lessons.  Hope you enjoy!

Cassian awoke automatically as the sky lightened outside.  He moved to fling the covers back, but a curl of golden-brown hair on his pillow made him pause.  Nesta.  She was here, in his bed, by some blessing of the Cauldron.  His eyes tracked the hair to her cheek, the only part of her face easily visible from where he lay.  She slept curled up in a tight ball, back to him, covers to her chin.  There was a slight flush on her clear skin, and with her face relaxed in sleep she looked so young, so undamaged.  As if the power roiling in her had never existed.

He couldn’t recall the last time he had let a female stay overnight.  Actually, he rarely brought them home at all, preferring to satisfy his needs outside of this apartment.  It had been a bit of a shock when it had been Nesta who had insisted on leaving after the first time they made love.  And even though they hadn’t been able to stay away from each other since then, she had kicked him out of bed each time before their mingled sweat had even dried.  He supposed this was a victory for both of them.

She moved then, curling in even tighter, small fist tightening on the sheet.  He had loved her since they first made love - no, if he was being honest with himself, he had loved her long before that - but right now the idea of getting out of that bed and walking away from her was causing him physical pain.  He didn’t know how Rhys had survived it, those weeks Feyre had been in the Spring Court, but Rhys had always had more discipline than he had.  He wanted to touch her, just to reassure himself she was real, but was afraid it would startle her.  Instead he settled for laying back down, one finger lightly on a curl of that hair on his pillow.

He had almost fallen back asleep for the first time in history when she shifted beside him, rolling over to face him.  Now he could study her face, those sharp cheekbones, the fans of her long lashes, that perfectly cut mouth.   He was staring at that mouth when she woke with a sudden intake of breath.  Her eyes flickered open and then closed immediately and she stretched with a low groan, still barely conscious.  Her foot brushed against his leg and she blinked again, then looked at him as if having trouble processing his existence.

“Cassian?” she asked, her voice gravelly from sleep.  He responded by brushing a gentle kiss against her lips.  “Mmm, Cassian,” she said again, and those eyelids drooped.  He was going to have to figure out some way to convince her to move in if she was always this adorable in the morning.  Her mouth fell open a little and she made a tiny little noise in the back of her throat.  Gently, he stroked a hand down her arm, and she pulled closer to him, so close they were sharing breath, her nose nearly touching his.  He pooched his lips out so they just barely reached her upper lip, and she crinkled her nose in response.  Just laying here with her, listening to her breathe, he felt his own eyes getting heavy.  What the hell was wrong with him?  The sky was turning pink and he was still in bed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care about anything other than this wondrous being next to him.

She reached out and rested her arm atop his.  After a moment, it seemed to register that she was  touching him, and her eyes flared open, wary, almost alarmed.  “Good morning,” he murmured.  She relaxed slightly and her hand moved to rub at her eyes.

“I forgot where I was,” she said, then frowned and cleared her throat at the roughness of her voice.  

“Understandable,” he said, and propped himself up on his elbow before leaning over slowly to kiss her again.  He wanted to give her a chance to pull back but she didn’t, instead freezing for a moment before hesitantly returning the kiss.  When her hand moved to rest on his side, he took the opportunity to wrap her up in his arms and move his lips to her jaw, then her neck.  He would have loved to explore her whole body with his mouth, but the sun was really rising now and he needed to get ready to go to work.  He said as much as he pulled back reluctantly, and asked, “Coffee or tea?”

“Hmm?” she said, rubbing her fingers over her face again.  “Oh, coffee.”

“Toast or eggs?”

“Either.  Both.”

“Milk or juice?”


He finally got out of bed, pulled on a pair of loose pants - not missing that her eyes were staring at his ass - and headed into the kitchen to make breakfast.  She appeared a few minutes later in that old shirt of his that he had dug out of the closet for her when she’d refused to sleep naked last night.  It hung down almost to her knees and she looked completely devastating in it, with her hair in wild disarray and her face still flushed from sleep.  He gritted his teeth to keep from scooping her up and racing back to the bedroom, or just cutting to the chase and taking her over the kitchen counter.  Hell, he didn’t even know if she’d enjoy that, she could well be a bed-only kind of female.  He set a cup of coffee and plate of toast on the counter and turned back to the eggs on the stove.  Out of the corner of his eye he watched his shirt slide up her legs as she reached for the toast, nearly revealing that perfect ass, before choosing one of the stools to sit on.  Shit.  He knew when he turned around with the eggs - which were now done and would turn into rubber if he left them on the stove a minute longer - the evidence of his interest in her ass was going to be revealed through those thin pants.  He grabbed a plate from the cupboard and scooped the eggs onto it, all the while trying to think of battle wounds, of sleeping on the ground in freezing rain, of the odor of rotten meat, but the only thing his traitorous brain could focus on was the scent of Nesta and sex that was now wafting through his kitchen.  He turned and set the eggs on the counter as quickly as he could, but her eyes had zeroed in on the increasing bulge in the front of his pants.  She took a delicate bite of toast and chewed slowly, her blue-gray eyes traveling up his shirtless torso.  There was no particular expression on her face as she met his gaze, hopped off the stool, and walked around to him.  Nothing to indicate what she was thinking as she stopped in front of him, as close as she could be without touching.  She looked him straight in the eye as she hopped up onto the counter.

“When do you have to leave?” she asked.  

“Soon,” he said, and damn him if his voice didn’t crack.  

She leaned back, resting on her elbows, her knees parting to reveal that she was wearing absolutely nothing underneath that shirt.  “How soon?”

“I can be late.”

“Be late.”

moments unforgettable...

Just a little Saturday morning smutlet…happy weekend!

She’s humming to herself as she scrubs at the remnants of cinnamon stuck in the depths of her mug and doesn’t hear him approach from behind, his bare feet making little sound on the hardwood as he cages her in with his arms. He chuckles at her flinch and she flicks the water from her fingers over her shoulder in retaliation.

“Sorry, love, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Yes you did.”

He doesn’t respond, instead seeking the soft skin behind her ear with his slightly wet nose, his lips pressing a smile along her neck when he feels her responsive shiver.

“I was getting lonely.”

“I’ve only been over here for a few minutes…”

Who is she kidding? The way their lives are, a few minutes might be all they have before someone comes crashing through their door with a problem that just must be solved.

The grumble he mumbles against her skin sounds like an agreement to her unspoken thought.

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