no more bedsheets

tease || t.h

Relationship: Tom Holland x reader

Summary: When you tease Tom all day, he decides to give you a taste of your own medicine.

Warnings: S M U T (18+)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: another tom smut was highly requested so here ya go bust a nut !!!

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“Lysandra made him change out of his dirty travel clothes, barged into Aelin and Rowan’s room wearing no more than her own bedsheet and took whatever she wanted from the Fae Prince’s armoire… Lysandra was smirking with feline wickedness as she returned, chucking the green jacket and pants at him.”

Empire of Storms - Sarah J Maas

This is my piece for an art trade with the absolutely wonderful @courtofpainteddreams. She’s super talented and so so so sweet!! I’m so glad I found her on this crazy site. You should go find her too! 

I think about anders and bethany a lot

Levels of Canon Appearance

Most Media: Characters have distinctive body types and races, color schemes, signature outfits, easy to identify

Homestuck: All races and body types are up for interpretation, only outfits are canon.

The Adventure Zone: Each character has a maximum of 1-3 features described. Everything and anything including those minor features is canon.

Are You Awake?

I don’t even know how to describe this one, it’s basically 2000 words of sin. Sleepy Noct is bratty, cheeky, and one hell of a tease in bed. Enjoy.

Noctis x f!reader.


2196 words.

Tagging: @ffxvhoe @fieryfantasy @sonsoflucis @louisvuittontrashbags @dirtyffxvconfession @wolfgoddess77 @noxfreyas @drpepper280 @cherryblossomcheesecake @paopuicecream @taconinja7 @goodmorningawfulbye @misssarahdoll @chocobruh-art @neko-otaku13 @angel-dream

Noctis wasn’t known as ‘The Sleepy Prince’ for no reason, you had come to know this very well in your time together. Whenever the two of you would return from a day or night out together, he would usually nod off for a nap as soon as he got himself near a bed. No matter how hard you tried to keep him awake, his eyelids would droop shut and he would be unmovable for the next couple of hours.

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paciencia y fe

for nurseydex week day 2 - bed sharing

Dex is irritated as hell. Hand it to the guy named Nurse to get sick on a roadie, the minute their game finished. Dex isn’t even really sure when exactly Nursey started feeling off, but one second they were on the ice, checking the guys from Quinnipiac, tipping that last sweet goal in from just off the side, crashing into each other, and the next Nurse was looking pale and shaky, eyes glazed and hands trembling. Dex had taken one look at him and dragged him off the ice to the change room, and it was a testament to how bad Nurse must’ve been feeling that he didn’t fight him. The bus to the hotel was long with Nursey shivering into his hoodie and worn-looking sweatpants.

Dex slings Nursey’s bag over one shoulder and hauls up his own, ignoring Nurse’s wide-eyed expression and faltering mumble, “You don’t have to—”

“Bro,” Holster cuts him off, throwing a hand down on Nurse’s shoulder and making his knees dip dangerously. “Dexy’s your d-man. He’s got your back,” and Dex has never heard Holster sound quite so approving as he does in this moment. He can’t help it – he goes red.

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Daddy’s Girl | jhs

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Words: 1,4k

Genre: Smut, Fluff (if you look closely)

Warnings: smut - praising, fingering, oral, overstimulation, daddy kink, little!Reader

Summary: Being a twenty-year old, people would think you’d be in college, studying or something. But what they didn’t know was that you were actually sitting in the livingroom, playing with your stuffies while you waited for your daddy to come home.

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I’m Never Gonna Dance Again (stenbrough)

no offense but this is the best thing ive ever written. if you read my post relating to this and wished for it to be real youre so welcome

@stanleyurisisalive THIS IS FOR YOU BBY

(this is nsfw btw!)

Stan and Bill had been taking their relationship slow. They were sixteen, and had never been with anyone else, so whenever they’d come close to having sex they’d pull apart and sit on opposite sides of the bed, making excuses and instead laying down to cuddle. This time, though, Bill’s parents were out for the night, and Stan had told him that he was ready. Bill had approached all of the losers earlier in the day, desperately asking them what he can do to ease the tension, and there was a common theme.

Just put on some music.

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Follow-up to my soulmate prompt fill from earlier. Words: 567

On occasion, Todd felt a little guilty about Dirk’s tattoo. While it was at least partially Dirk’s fault for breaking into Todd’s apartment, it couldn’t have been very comforting to grow up knowing that’s what his soulmate would think of him.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I like it, Todd?” Dirk huffed, apparently sensing the way Todd’s eyes were fixed on his lower back. Todd wasn’t entirely sure whether that was a psychic thing or an attentive boyfriend thing.

“It’s not the greatest tattoo to have though, is it?” Todd replied, tracing his thumb over the letters which made Dirk hum contentedly and melt a little more against the bedsheets, “Especially not for a kid.”

“I was fifteen when I got it,” Dirk corrected, as if that wouldn’t prompt a whole slew of questions, “And I didn’t know what the rude words meant.”

“You didn’t know what ‘fuck’ meant when you were fifteen?”

“No.” The reply didn’t invite further questioning, but Todd quickly formed an idea of why Dirk may have been a little naïve at fifteen. He resumed stroking over Dirk’s tattoo apologetically, and after a few moments, Dirk spoke up again: “Aren’t you the one who used to tell me to just relax and enjoy the afterglow?”

“There’s a difference between pillow talk and pillow speeches,” Todd snorted, and Dirk took the opportunity to roll onto his side – effectively concealing his own tattoo – and nuzzle his cheek against the words on Todd’s chest. Dirk thought of all the hassle he could have avoided if he’d had words on his chest; it was such a nice location. He could press a hand to the words and feel Todd’s heartbeat at the same time.

“Tell me about when you got yours?” Dirk requested in a soft voice. It hadn’t escaped Todd’s notice that Dirk was a little fixated on happy soulmate tattoo stories. He’d gone practically starry eyed when Amanda had told him about the day the small-scripted ‘perfect’ had appeared on her wrist.

“It’s not an interesting story,” Todd began, and Dirk’s expression told him that that was far from a problem, “Well, I was a kid, out during recess. It was fifth grade so somebody got their words every other day, practically, it wasn’t special. And… well, if I’m being totally honest, everybody kind of assumed it was going to be a ‘childhood sweethearts’ kind of scenario because of what the words said. I like how it worked out, though. I mean, if it was a childhood sweetheart then they’d have had to put up with all my shit during college and… It’s better this way.”

The look in Dirk’s eyes seemed to get fonder with every word, and by the time the story was finished, Todd couldn’t bear it anymore. He kissed Dirk soundly on the lips, as Dirk’s hand stayed pressed against Todd’s chest.

“It was confusing, you know. Until I realised the first time I met you wasn’t the first time you met me. And then it made sense,” Todd murmured. “They’re – uh – they’re pretty good words, that’s why I feel bad you got shitty ones.”

“I like our story, Todd,” Dirk replied firmly, pressing a kiss to the words, his lips curving into a smile against the cursive lettering, “It was a very good thought, I remember thinking it.”

You’re going to be my best friend?


If I write more of this, I’ll probably end up putting it on my AO3, but at the moment it’s just a couple of cute lil drabbles. My ask box is still open for prompts, or just chatter~ 

no little tree alone can make an arbor

Rating: G
Words: ~1,200
Fandom: Frozen
Summary: Its night, they can’t sleep.
Note: After watching OFA, I remembered an old story I never finished, floating on my Google Drive. I polished it up a bit to get it publishable, and here it is! Enjoy a piece of Punchy circa 2014.
Note: Ripped straight from Buffy. You’ll know the part. 

It’s a warm evening in early fall, the kind that summer hasn’t quite let go of yet but instead holds on with fond arms. Night has fallen like a blanket, and with it, the hum of insects buzzes throughout Arendelle. The leaves have just started to turn and a breeze crests through the open window, gently flipping the pages of an open book.

One of Elsa’s bangs droops across her eyes and she tucks it away as the wind catches her attention.

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(of red wine) at room temperature.

ao3 link

summary: Dan wanted things to be different. But his bed was too hot and he couldn’t stop remembering and Phil was in the next bedroom.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: sexual references and angst

notes: so this fic took a long time to write (well only a few hours but it was over a few months) and i’m glad it did because a lot of things happened to dan and phil as of late which are perfect fic material. also just a quick shoutout to @ukulelephil for being a lovely person in general and reading my fic which encouraged me to post it in the first place. hope you enjoy!

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s i l l a g e | pt. five

Pairing: Reader / Jeon Jeongguk.

Genre: Soulmate!AU where soulmates are drawn to one another by the infliction of physical touch, whether it be pain or pleasure. But it is only initiated once the two people somewhat interact.

Count: 6,152 words.

Warnings: A lot of pain and disgusting kids in love.

from jeon:

hey who’s this

You scoff at the screen. It is nearing midnight, four hours since you have seen Jeongguk in the flesh before he dissolved into the shadows like a ghost, blending with the darkness that he claims to come from, having not a clue that he has bones made of liquid gold, a radiance that can compete with the sun. In the meantime, you have cleansed your skin of salt and sand beneath steaming hot water, eaten a very basic dinner of steamed rice and omelette – oh, the thrills of college student life! – and successfully dodged Joy’s suspicion in her words of Where on earth were you? Why are you trailing sand like an ant?

The decision was made to not tell her so soon. You like having him as your little secret, for the while.

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Two Oceans, Two Rooms | Chapter 3

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Summary: Virgil’s dealing with a lot; he’s lost his sister, his leg, and his dad all within a short period of time. Now, all because of his stupid dog, he’s transported into a world much like his own, but with a pretty big difference: Everyone is fairies and most seem to want him dead.

He only wanted to find his stupid CD player.

Word Count: 2,256

Fic Type: Chapter Three of Two Oceans, Two Rooms

Warnings: Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Injury and Anxiety

Pairings: No Romantic Relationship(s)

Notes: If you’re insecure ‘bout your writing and are always struggling to post things bc you’re afraid it’s stupid say heyyyy. (heyyy)

Feedback is always appreciated!!!

Tag List (If you want off of this or on, pls message me!!: @wilsonprs @vladimeme @the-sanders-sides @abstractedthinking @future-watcher @milk-withtwosugars @bossatronia @hey-youre-out-of-shampoo @giraffeanimal @eughg @here-to-vent @ilovemyspoopydad @madd-catter @fandomsandanythingelse @ukucanuck

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Bluish light snuck past sheer curtains onto sheets making them appear to turn to snow and a breeze washed through bringing the promise of real snow not too far off. Tired eyes had tricks played on them by shadows, wind, and cold. Long forgotten memories twisted and turned and raged at the edges of a young boy willing to do anything to survive. A usually unthought of thudding behind his ribs increased and skipped until it began to reach into his throat, squeeze his lungs, and trickle down his spine. He felt burns like they were knew, saw faces he was shocked to remember, his nerves screamed along pink marks to tell him they were real and he laid there motionless just staring at the shadows, feeling the wind, unable to do anything but that.

“Montparnasse.” He heard a voice sounding as though it had taken a few tries at his name, it was far off and his ears were ringing, or more he felt underwater with a rushing sound flooding his mind. He looked in the general direction of the sound not making shapes out quite completely.

“Montparnasse? You threw the blankets off in your sleep and you’ve been staring at nothing for awhile.” There was orange lit by blue light. It was warm, the voice was soft, and so was the fabric creeping along his skin. “You’re pretty cold, are you okay?” A hot hand on his cheek, his skin slowly started prickling, it was nearly painful.

He felt the hand move away and two arms creeped around him. There was more orange, more heat. The snow was melting and began to get replaced by bedsheets once more. He focused on the shape of legs underneath them, he started to feel they were intertwined with his own. There was a sensation on his head of what he knew was fingers in his hair but it wasn’t real quite yet. He blinked slowly and breathed deeply. The ringing in his ears slowly got quieter, it felt less urgent, less intense. The far off voice was closer, much closer, pressed against him and calmly repeating his name.

“Thanks Jehan.” He murmured barely, connecting himself enough to speak clearly took some time usually.

“You’re welcome, it’s okay, you’re doing good and you’ll be okay.” Jehan said.

Montparnasse let himself come back to the present, let Jehan help him to it, and let himself get overwhelmed. At first and for awhile he couldn’t get past his pride in these moments but he was making progress, inch by inch. He hated how slow it took and hated needing help with it, he hated that it was necessary in the first place, blaming himself most of the time for not being able to just handle it. He was doing it though, he pushed those thoughts away easier and he was miserable but putting in effort for himself in a way he hadn’t before and letting someone in and that’s what mattered.

astralcities  asked:


Your wish is my absolute pleasure! Just a bit of fluff (I’m in the midst of writing something much more substantial for these two!) but I hope you like it:

“Ah, Cogsworth!”

On any other day, Cogsworth would have found the odd emphasis on the final syllable of his name amusing. Endearing, even. He’d never heard anyone else, even a Frenchman, pronounce his name the way Lumière did. The former candlestick insisted that he was from a very small village with an exceptional accent (‘Rare, like a fine wine, mon cher!’) but Cogsworth wasn’t sure he believed him. His culinary training, after all, could only be Parisian.

“Your forehead is more creased than the bedsheets, mon ami! Relax, it was only a kiss. We were celebrating!”

Cogsworth thought that the residents of Lumière’s village must have very strange ideas about celebration. It had been three weeks since they were returned to their human forms, and he still hadn’t found a way to talk to his friend about how his wax lips had felt against his pane of varnished wood. Apparently, he wasn’t going to.

“It was not proper,” he tried, knowing even as he let the words out that they sounded weak. As if he was looking for an objection, rather than believing it. Apparently Lumière knew that, too, because he raised one eyebrow and quirked his head in amused fashion.

“Not proper, mon cher?”

Cogsworth hated how much he didn’t hate when Lumière called him that.

“Or not good enough?” Before the butler could even begin to splutter in indignation, Lumière was speaking again, stepping forward on the end of each sentence. “Perhaps you were feeling more jubilant than that, no? Perhaps you feel that my little efforts did not express how…” He was very close now, “wonderful you feel?”

Cogsworth decided that how he actually felt was as if someone had pulled the tablecloth from beneath him, and all his gears had come loose. Was the other man right? Cogsworth’s mind rebelled at the idea, but there was a little click elsewhere in him that disagreed.

“Perhaps you feel Plumette should not have had my lips after they had become yours.” Lumière’s voice was quiet, measured. He was looking Cogsworth directly in the eye, and Cogsworth found he couldn’t quite look away. Not even to blink.

“N-No,” he managed.

Lumière shook his head. “Try again, mon cher.”

Cogsworth struggled to find another option, but it was difficult to think of any more objections with Lumière so close to him. The truth had, very unexpectedly, become the easiest choice. He took it.

“Yes.” Cogsworth’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it drew a smile from Lumière so bright that for a moment, the butler wondered if his candles were flaring. And then Lumière leaned closer, and Cogsworth felt sure that his face must be as hot as it would have been if he was close to those burning flames. Cool lips brushed his cheek, and shining eyes found his startled gaze.

“Come, amour.” Cogsworth blushed, and Lumière grinned. “We have a dinner to present.”