ripping down the walls

I think I might leave,” he whispered.
She almost tripped. “Leave?”
He wouldn’t look at her. “I’m going down to Eyllwe - to Banjali, to be precise.”
“For a mission?” It was common for Arobynn to send them all over the continent, but the way Sam was speaking felt … different.
“Forever,” he said.
“Why?” Her voice sounded a little shrill in her ears.
He faced her. “What do I have to tie me here? Arobynn already mentioned that it might be useful to firmly establish ourselves in the south, too.”
“Arobynn -” she seethed, fighting to keep her voice to a whisper. “You talked to Arobynn about this?”
Sam gave her a half shrug. “Casually. It’s not official.”
“But - but Banjali is a thousand miles away.”
“Yes, but Rifthold belongs to you and Arobynn. I’ll always be … an alternative.”
“I’d rather be an alternative in Rifthold than ruler of the assassins in Banjali.” She hated that she had to keep her voice so soft. She was going to splatter someone against a wall. She was going to rip down the sewer with her bare hands.
“I’m leaving at the end of the month,” he said, still calm.
“That’s two weeks away!”
“Do I have any reason why I should stay here?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed as loudly as she could while still maintaining a hushed tone. “Yes, you do.” He didn’t reply. “You can’t go.”
“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t.”
“Because I’ll miss you, damn it!” she hissed, splaying her arms. “Because what was the point in anything if you just disappear forever?”
“The point in what, Celaena?” How could he be so calm when she was so frantic?
“The point in Skull’s Bay, and the point in getting me that music, and the point in … the point in telling Arobynn that you’d forgive him if he never hurt me again.”
“You said you didn’t care what I thought. Or what I did. Or if I died, if I’m not mistaken.”
“I lied! And you know I lied, you stupid bastard!”
He laughed quietly. “You want to know how I spent this summer?” She went still. He ran a hand through his brown hair. “I spent every single day fighting the urge to slit Arobynn’s throat. And he knew I wanted to kill him.”
I’ll kill you! Sam had screamed at Arobynn.
“The moment I woke up after he beat me, I realized I had to leave. Because I was going to kill him if I didn’t. But I couldn’t.” He studied her face. “Not until you came back. Not until I knew you were all right - until I saw that you were safe.”
Breathing became very, very hard.
“He knew that, too,” Sam went on. “So he decided to exploit it. He didn’t recommend me for missions. Instead, he made me help Lysandra and Clarisse. He made me escort them around the city on picnics and to parties. It became a game between the two of us - how much of his horseshit I could take before I snapped. But we both knew he’d always have the winning hand. He’d always have you. Still, I spent every day this summer hoping you’d come back in one piece. More than that - I hoped you’d come back and take revenge for what he’d done to you.”
But she hadn’t. She’d come back and let Arobynn shower her with gifts.
“And now that you’re fine, Celaena, now that you’ve paid off your debt, I can’t stay in Rifthold. Not after all the things he’s done to us.”
She knew it was selfish, and horrible, but she whispered, “Please don’t go.”
He let out an uneven breath. “You’ll be fine without me. You always have been.”
Maybe once, but not now. “How can I convince you to stay?”
“You can’t.”
She threw down the torch. “Do you want me to beg, is that it?”
“No - never.”
“Then tell me -”
“What more can I say?” he exploded, his whisper rough and harsh. “I’ve already told you everything - I’ve already told you that if I stay here, if I have to live with Arobynn, I’ll snap his damned neck.”
“But why? Why can’t you let it go?”
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Because I love you!”
Her mouth fell open.
“I love you,” he repeated, shaking her again. “I have for years. And he hurt you and made me watch because he’s always known how I felt, too. But if I asked you to pick, you’d choose Arobynn, and I. Can’t. Take. It.”
The only sounds were their breathing, an uneven beat against the rushing of the sewer river.
“You’re a damned idiot,” she breathed, grabbing the front of his tunic. “You’re a moron and an ass and a damned idiot.” He looked like she had hit him. But she went on, and grasped both sides of his face, “Because I’d pick you.”
And then she kissed him.
—  The Assassin and the Underworld (The Assassin’s Blade #4) by Sarah J. Maas

alright, let me tell y’all a story about two badass gay (allegedly, but who are we kidding) resistance fighters in nazi occupied poland.

(rudy is on the left and zośka is right)

tadeusz zawadzki (aka “zośka”) and jan bytnar (aka “rudy”) met in 1937 at age 16, being classmates in high school in warsaw. they were also members of an underground polish scouting association called gray ranks (pol: szare szeregi) and they were both active in resistance actions and sabotages. some of the actions included ripping down nazi flags and putting up polish ones, painting “PW” on walls, symbolizing “polska walcząca” (”fighting poland”), blowing up train tracks or writing slogans over nazi propaganda.

rudy was arrested by gestapo (nazi police) on march 23rd and interrogated to get information out of him about gray ranks and the resistance. and by interrogated i mean beaten until he lost consciousness and then woken up to be beaten some more. but rudy was like “screw you i ain’t tellin you shit” and basically acted like he didn’t know anything. he was injured so severely that on the second day of his arrest he had to be taken to the prison hospital and transported back for interrogation on a hospital stretcher. so zośka decided “fuck this” and gathered a team of 28 people to rescue him from arrest. the action was succesful on march 26th when they rescued rudy and 20 other prisoners during their transportation to a different location. rudy died from his injuries on march 30th with zośka being right by his side. before his death, rudy managed to tell others the names of the two main officers who were interrogating him, one of which was herbert schulz who was shot a month later by zośka.

aleksander kamiński, also a resistance fighter, wrote a book called “stones for the rampart” which describes the history of zośka, rudy and other people from their scout team fighting in warsaw. the title, “stones for the rampart”, comes from a poem “my testament” by juliusz słowacki, which zośka has read to rudy on his deathbed and has insisted on calling the book that. (also because another book, rudy’s favorite, was called the same way)

“But I beg you – let the living not lose hope ever
And bear the torch of learning before their compatriots;
And when called, go to their death one after another,
Like the stones tossed by die Lord onto the ramparts…“

zośka died 5 months after rudy during a resistance action. they were both 22 when they died and both were awarded with the war order of virtuti militari (latin: “for military virtue”) which is poland’s highest military decoration for heroism and courage at war.

alright, you might say, but why do some people think they were gay? well,  elżbieta janicka from the institute of slavic studies said “because we’re talking in a homophobic culture, where questioning someone’s heterosexual orientation
isn’t an ascertainment but an accusation, i’d compare zośka and rudy to achilles and patroclus, a couple of legendary warriors.” in her opinion, a particularly telling part from “stones for the rampart” was where after rescuing rudy from arrest, zośka lies down next to rudy in bed and they talk about moving in together after the war and living in a countryside where they would spend unforgettable and happy days. zośka also says that during that time “when we were together, he enjoyed me holding his hand or petting his hair.” there were also rumours about the boys’ sexualities during the war, said zośka’s liaison officer. 

but whether they were gay or not, they were still bomb-ass resistance fighters and you should read “stones for the rampart” by aleksander kamiński (there’s also a movie from 2014)

Black Cat (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: smut During the day the reader is a shy girl who has a crush on Peter, at night she is a thief called Black Cat.
A/N: So I love Black Cat a lot so I decided to do a story of it. Also sorry for any mistakes and I don’t really know how to write smut so this probably sucks

Peter walked into class and took a seat next to Y/N. She was a shy girl, always blushed when ever Peter talked to her. He found it cute and he had a small crush on her but he was shy just like her so he never said anything about it. The class began and he began to daydream of the event of the previous night. Black Cat. The gorgeous thief that he knew it was bad to have a crush on but just couldn’t help himself. Her tight black suit that made the boy blush just thinks of it. Her smile, her laugh, her everything. She was just so amazing. She was quick witted and a flirt. She took every opportunity to tease Spiderman about something. She got away last night with the a diamond necklace in her hand. She usually won. Mr. Stark gave him so much crap for it too.
Peter was pulled out of his daze when Y/N tapped on his shoulder. “Um Peter we are so post to work on the project.”
“What? Oh right the project…what project?” He asked scratching the back of his head. “The final…” She never looked at him as she spoke. “Oh right.. well how about you come over today and we can work on it.” She blushed, he was inviting her over to his house? “Um okay…”
“Great I’ll see you then.” The bell rang and the two went there separate way.
When she came over they had a great time. She slowly began to open up to him. Soon they had stopped working on the project and was just talking. “Wait why don’t you like cats?” She asked surprised.
“I don’t know I just don’t trust them. Something about them.”
“But they are so cute!” Peter rolled his eyes.
“Nah dogs are way cuter.” They talked hours on end until finally Y/N had to go home. Peter was smiling like a school girl. She was so interesting and adorable. They would have to hang out again to ‘work on the project’ and he was so excited for it.

Later that night Spiderman sat on top of a building looking around for any trouble when he saw a woman in a black suit slip into the museum through a window. “Okay Peter play this cool.” He told himself before swinging off. He looked through the window and there she was. She jumped over the lasers that would pull the alarms. She moved so gracefully. When she finally reached her goal: a blood diamond. The biggest diamond Peter has ever seen. She carefully cut the glass with her nails and took the diamond. He smiled and jumped down so he was standing right behind her. “Well well look at what the cat dragged in.” He said so proud of himself for saying at least one thing cool. She smirked and turned around to face him. “Hi Spidey.” She giggled making him nervous. He used his web shooters to try to take the diamond from her but she was quick. She did a back flip dodging the webs. She put the diamond in a bag attached to her leg and closed it. She came running at him and through a punch. He dodged it and began to fight back. He hated fighting girls so part of him was glad she dodged every single punch he threw at her. She kicked his legs and he fell straight on his back, before he could get up she was sitting on top of him holding him down. “You know you aren’t very good at this.” She taunted.
“That’s no true.” He said struggling and she just laughed. That laugh so familer. She pulled up his back to the base of his nose. “Hey! Stop!” He squealed thinking that she was going to see who he was but instead she began to kiss him. Even more shocking he began to kiss back. He couldn’t help himself. She pulled away, jumped up and ran out of the museum before Spiderman could even figure out what was going on. “Bye Spidey.” She called out and disappeared. Peter bit his lip, he wanted more. “Bye kitty.” His whispered and pulled down his mask.
The next day at school he told Ned all about how he kissed Black Cat. “Dude you got to kiss a hot chick who’s probably older than you! That’s awesome!” Ned shouted. “Keep it down!! And no it’s not awesome I made out with a villain! That’s like rule number one of the things not to do.”
“Oh so it was a make out? Get some Peter!”

Peter had begun to hangout with Y/N whenever you two could. They became best friends and she started to sit with Ned and him at lunch. His crush for her became stronger and he decided he would finally tell her. During the day he hung out with Y/N but at night it was Black Cat who got all of attention. Crime had generally gone down so it was usually not that bad at night, that is until Black Cat came out and decided to have some fun. This game had been going on for months now, always the same happened. She got what she wanted and Spiderman was was never able to catch her. Peter was not dumb, maybe a little clueless but he began to catch on. She had amazing reflexes and an unforgettable laugh. A laugh he heard so much not just from her but from the woman he was fighting at night. He refused to believe that his sweet Y/N could do anything bad so he pushed the thought aside but it kept eating at him. Peter and Y/N sat in her room talking. She stretched and her crop top went up a little showing a bruise. It was the same spot Spiderman and hit Black Cat last night. Peter raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything about it. They continued to talk until she had to go grab something. She left the room leaving him alone. He quickly got up and walked to her closet. He knew it was wrong but if she was the thief he wanted to know. He looked through her closet until he found it. Her suit was in a box hidden away by other things. “You know the funny thing about masks is people become their real selves when they put them on.” He jumped when he heard her voice. No response. He was at a loss of words. “What’s wrong Spidey cat got your tongue?” All of a sudden webs shot out and placed her hands above her head, forcing her against the wall. He was going to make her pay for all the times she teased him. Left him wanting more. He began to walk towards her, never looking at her as he does. She gulped it was weird Peter like this, he was always so shy and sweet. When he reached her she was able to see his eyes. Dark with lust. She took a deep breath and waited for him to do something. Finally he began to kiss her as his hands explored her body. She moaned and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. His hands went to the hem of her shirt and slowly began to lift it up. He pulled away and scrunched up at her wrists. He swallowed hard and his hands began to shake. No more confident Peter. “Please.” She begged not carrying of how desperate she sounded. Peter let out a sigh and unclipped her bra. He moved out it out of the way. He placed his knee between her legs and she attempted to grind herself against his leg but his hands held her back to the wall. “Be good kitty.” He was trying so hard to be dominant. He licked his lips and began to kiss from her neck down to her breasts. He took on nipple in his mouth and the other in his hand, massaging it. He squeezed the other nipple in between his fingers. She moaned and her back arched up. He smirked against her nipple and kissed it. He lightly bit down and she gasped. He flicked it with his tongue before putting his whole moth against it again. His other hand worked on unbuttoning her pants he slid them down and she stepped out of them. He let go of her nipple with a pop and began to kiss down her stomach. He reached her panties and smiled. “Cute.” He said playing with the little bow on them. “Peter!” She cried wanting more than what he was giving her. He giggled and pulled down her panties. She spread her legs and Peter looked at her like he saw the gates of heaven. The blush got darker and the smile on his face got wider. He could stay there all day. He began to rub your clint, his thumb doing circles over the tiny nub. She moaned loudly. “Peter… please.” She begged. He loved this moment for once he was in charge. The boy had never done this before so he was still extremely nervous but he could tell by her reactions that he was doing it right. He licked his lips and slipped two fingers into her. He slowly began to move them in a come here motion. Her mouth flew open in a silent moan. He loved the way she looked at this moment. Hair a mess, sweaty skin, her gorgoues lips all plump. He knew he would have to deal with the fact that Y/N was Black Cat but he didn’t want to think about that now. He groaned, his own desire getting worse and worse by the second. He needed release. He pulled away and stood up. She whined at the loss of contact but smirked when Peter began to take off his clothes. He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off him. Y/N rubbed her legs together watching him. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his pants down, stepping out of them. He stopped at his boxers. He was nervous. What if he wasn’t big enough for her? “Peter hurry!” Y/N growled and he took them off. Her eyes grew wide and she licked her lips staring at his hard against his stomach. He took a deep breath trying to get his composure back. He went back to her and ripped the webs from off the wall. She smirked and pushed down on the bed. “My turn Spidey.” She slowly crawled up on him and grinded herself against him. He groaned and let his head fall back. Y/N began to tease him slowly grinding her hips against his. “Y/N Please.” He moaned out. “You’re so cute when you try to be dominant. Face it Pete it just doesn’t work with you.” He growled. She lined him at her entrance and slowly slid down on his shaft. They both moaned out and Peter put his hands on her hips. There was probably going to be marks from his hands the next day.

Peter thrusted up and she slowly began to rock her hips back and forth. He flipped them over so he was on top of her and pulled out of her. He slowly pushed himself back in and took a moment to move. She was so tight. “Fuck Peter.. move.” She hissed and he did. He began to move in and out of her in a steady pace. She warped her legs around his waist and brought him closer. They were both a moaning mess and Peter wasn’t going to last much longer. He brought a thumb to her clint and began to run the sensitive bud. She arched her back and scratched down Peter’s back. He almost didn’t want to finish, he just wanted this moment to last longer. The way she screamed out his name was his new favorite sound. He felt the tight knot in his stomach he leaned down and began leave hickeys on her chest. He empties himself in her letting out a loud moan. She spasms around him and cums soon after him. He works Y/N through her orgasm and gently pulls out when she is done. He falls on her and buries his head into her chest. Their heavy breathing being the only sound in the room. Peter lifts up his head and gently places a kiss on her lips. They smile at each other and he looks down. His eyes go wide. “Y/N! Did I hurt you!” He asks getting worried by all the bruises he left. “No silly it felt good.” She giggled and Peter placed his head back on her chest. “Oh.” He said biting his lip. She began to play with his hair as they begun to fall asleep until Peter quickly got up. “Y/N!” “Yes Peter?” “You are Black Cat! How come you never told me?” “How come you never told me you were Spiderman?” She asked raising an eyebrow at him. He goes silent and awkwardly climbs back into bed next to her. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her close. She closes her eyes again. “One more thing..” “What is it?” She asked getting slightly annoyed. “Are you on birth control?”

Originally posted by ibelievedreams-come-true

Originally posted by dorky-spider


*breaks down your door*


*punches the wall*


*rips down your posters*


*jumps out the window*


*lies facedown in grass*


Little thing for @theslowesthnery, because their gangster skeletons look so adorable and amazing and all their headcanons make me so happy <3 And they are amazing and I just wanted to give something back to them, cause I enjoy everything they make so much \0/ <3

(There is a read more. If your on mobile, please click onto my blog name. You will get redirected to it, and the thing is there without the readmore. I tested it, it should work. Sorry for the inconvinience)

Heist went wrong

Words: 1727

Well, that went…terribly. It was just a regular heist, in, get the stuff and back out. Undyne distracted the guards with some fists to their face, the fighting attracting more of the gang members from the inside of the warehouse the goods were stored in. Papyrus positioned himself a bit away, in the getaway car, hidden in the shadows of some rundown building.

Sans was supposed to sneak in, grab what they needed and get out again, meeting Undyne and Papyrus in the car. But things never go as how they are supposed to go. Sometimes even worser then on could expect.

Sans was lying on the cold floor, gagged and bound, having endured a throughout beating. 

It went alright at first, Undyne lured almost all outside, knocking them over like potatosacks and Sans had no problem teleporting inside, sneaking trough the shadows until he located the crates he was supposed to get. Looking around carefully until the air was clear he waited hidden behind some barrels, some filled with trash, others closed and containing various liquids. 

He crept into the open, unnoticed by the few man still inside. Almost reached the crates. He just had to grab them and teleport out again, no big deal, it wasn’t his first heist after all. And then things went wrong. He felt a sharp pain on the left side of his head, feels his eye socket fracture, and then nothing. One of the man saw him, attracted by the faint light from the teleport, following Sans trough the warehouse until he found out what the small skeleton was doing there. Then he knocked him out.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

omg ok how about what it would be like to give/receive head w the twins i'm sweating at the thought lmao

I had to mentally prepare myself for this one because THIS is what gets me the most.

Grayson would deliberately eat you out and watch you the entire time. I wish somebody would fight me on this one, please. I swear that this would be his favorite thing. Can we just talk about the fact that he would spend infinite amounts of time eating you out until you seriously tell him you can’t do it anymore, that’s what he wants. He’s the type of dude to straight up do it just for you, and expect literally nothing in return. Now that’s a gentleman girls and guys. This would be something he wouldn’t be rough with, taking his time with lapping and fingering the most delicious spots possible over and over again, humming with appreciation at how good you taste on his tongue. // Giving him head in return would be glorious, because he wouldn’t care to be putty in your hands. Like just imagine him up at 3 in the morning after HOURS of editing with no end in sight, his hair is sticking up from pulling it out of exhaustion so much, and you tip toe in because he could really use some stress relief. He’d try to give some lame excuse that he really needed to finish editing, but he dang sure wouldn’t stop you when you’d get on your knees. He’d love the way you would slowly inch all the way down to the base, creeping back up so slowly with a loud pop. And he’d love even more when he’d bust in your mouth and you’d swallow it all, licking your lips before giving him the brightest and loving smile on planet earth.

Giving Ethan head is a different story, because it takes some will power and a lot of seducing to get him because he’d just want to please you. Pushing him up against the wall and getting on your knees, ripping down his sweats and getting right to it. He’d be the type to grip your hair and coach you, grasp your jaw and gently push you ALLLL the way down with his head pushed back and a groan so loud flowing out. You’d seductively lick up every drop he gave you, and he’d pull you up roughly, ready to return the favor. // E is the one who would hold your hips down and finger the hell out of you while he bites and sucks your clit. FIGHT ME ON IT. He’d be the one to straight up say some down right nasty things that would make you squirm and beg him to keep going. And he’d want you to beg. “You don’t cum until I let you.” But when you do, he wouldn’t even give you time to regulate your breathing before he’d be back to thrusting his fingers and lapping at your clit so fast that your hips would buck and your legs would twitch.

Another blog here requested something exactly the same, so I answered this one. I might just make a full out imagine on this one because I didn’t get near enough to what I wanted to convey. LAWD HELP

I've never been kissed but I have a soft spot for sickeningly sappy OTP prompts so buckle up kids:
  • -when there's a height difference so Person A has to lean down and person B has to stand on tiptoes for a kiss
  • -"One (1) kiss for pillow fort entry"
  • -Person B blowing a kiss to Person A at the train station, then person A falling out the window when they go (literally) overboard pretending to catch it
  • -Forehead kisses (/^▽^)/
  • -Unexpected kiss on the cheek
  • -Unexpected kiss on the cheek WITH A HEIGHT DIFFERENCE
  • -Snowball fights and shoving snow down each others backs
  • -Person B leaning far back in their chair for a kiss from person A
  • -Then leaning too far and tipping over. Then just laying there as they both laugh until they can't breath
  • -Pets getting in the way during a kiss
  • -Person B goes in for a kiss but really steals some of Person A's food
  • -mini retaliatory food fight leaving them both a mess
  • -Obligatory kiss in the rain (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*: ・゚✧
  • -Climbing onto the roof to watch the stars but getting locked out + having to wait 3 hours for rescue
  • -Going out in formal wear and Person A kisses Person B's hand in a dashing manner
  • -"Since when did you get so smooth?" "Since always" *trips and rips down expensive wall hanging*
  • -Waltzing together through the autumn leaves
  • -Tripping and tumbling into a freshly raked pile
  • -Shoving leaves down each others backs
  • -Hot cocoa and chocolate chip cookies together
A Soft Crescendo

Many months ago I wrote something for the Hannibal Big Bang, and I promised @fragile-teacup I would write some more for it. I don’t know if she even remembers that, but I have worked on it some over the months. I decided to post chapter 2 today, and I hope she and everyone enjoys! Thanks Alex for being the nagging voice in the back of my head to keep writing this and also thank you for all the beautiful prose you write! 

(Artwork was created by @hannahthemighty for the fic during the bang.)

Notes:  Hannibal and Will hide out in Mexico. This chapter follows some snapshots of their life together as Will struggles to come to terms with their relationship and with himself. They live together in a dance of unbearable intimacy and excruciating distance. Some hurt/comfort and some smut to be found here.

Will pulled the sweaty shirt over his head and threw it on the floor. His whole body was covered in a light sheen of sweat. The small, cheap motel they were in had a broken air conditioner and the rising temperatures left the third-floor room hot and muggy. The walls were yellow and heavily spackled, the paint peeling and slightly greying. There was a watercolor painting of a woman in a red sundress walking down a deserted street with her son. Other than that the room was sparse with no decoration. Will tried to rest on the bed. Hannibal had removed the bedding provided and used his own clean, new sheets. Will flipped through the channels. They were all in Spanish, and he could only understand half of it. Grabbing the bottle of tequila, he took a couple of swigs. It took the edge off of the swollen waiting.

He walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror at his face, skinnier than it had been in a while. He rubbed his thumbs over the bags under his eyes and sighed deeply. The shower let out a high-pitched scream when he turned it on; it was old and the water pressure low. But, the cold water was a relief, and he sighed deeply as the drops caressed his skin. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to relax. The city was hot and busy, and he was feeling restless with nowhere to go and little to do. He didn’t know where Hannibal was exactly, but he had a vague idea. They had been here for six months and had come to an agreement. Hannibal could kill once a month as long as it was someone who had done something terrible enough to deserve it. Will had no way of knowing if he was following through, however.

The feel of a hand against his shoulder startled him, and he yelped softly, beginning to look around for something to defend himself before quickly realizing that it was Hannibal.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Will said catching his breath. “I didn’t hear you to come in.”

“You need to be more careful, Will. What if it hadn’t been me?” Hannibal half-chided.

Will reached for his towel, but Hannibal reached out and grabbed Will’s forearm. “Don’t.”

Will noted the excitement in Hannibal’s eyes. He must have achieved his goal.

Hannibal unbuttoned the loose, white shirt he was wearing and placed it neatly on a hanger in the closet.

“Hurry up,” Will called, rubbing soap over his chest while he waited.

“Shhh,” Hannibal replied, his voice was dangerous and low.

Will could tell he was in for a treat.

Hannibal removed his pants and briefs just as carefully. Will could tell he was gathering himself, focusing on steadying his breath.

Will would let him have his way, let him be rough, would join in eagerly.

“I wish you had been there, Will.” He lamented as he pushed open the curtain and let himself inside the small shower, placing both his hands on Will’s hips. The energy was tense, but slow and building, not near the crescendo it would be later.

Will stared at the mess of hair on Hannibal’s chest and the slow, deep rise and fall of his breath.

“I’m here now.” Will said, voice already breathy.

The shower wasn’t ideal for sex. But the stifling heat still made it the best option.

“I suppose that will have to do,” Hannibal said, pushing Will against the wall and grinding their hips together. Their cocks slid against each other, pressing into each other’s stomachs. Will was feeling a little heady from the tequila. All he could think of was Hannibal’s hands, on his hips, on his sides, on his shoulders, as he caressed Will’s body roughly.

Their kisses were rougher than normal, Hannibal bit him hard, and Will gasped a bit in pain, pressing his hand up to his lip, blood oozing onto his fingertips.

“I would say sorry, but you look so delightful in your own blood,” Hannibal sucked the wound, licking Will’s blood. It had a distinct flavor; Hannibal had always told Will he would recognize it easily.

“Don’t be sorry.” Will turned around, placing his hands on the chipped tile, presenting himself submissively and without shame.

Hannibal’s fingers opened him up roughly but attentively. Will’s forehead pressed against the wall, his lips parted as he moaned, droplets of water from his hair falling down his face.

“Do it now.” Will begged.

With a groan and a push, Hannibal moved his length inside of him. It ached a bit. Hannibal was impatient. So was Will. Their bodies moved in a fast, erratic rhythm. This was when it all made sense to Will. All the questions and frustrations fell away like the water running off their bodies, swirling down the drain, as their flesh and breath became one.


“I want to go fishing,” Will said out loud to the room. Hannibal was lying beside him on the bed, and Will was attempting to read a book of classical poetry Hannibal had left around. He was having trouble focusing, however. “The weather here reminds me a bit of summers in New Orleans. While I prefer our last home, I was thinking I could find some things to do around here. Feel more myself again.” He was trying to figure out his own thoughts, figure out a way to break out of the monotony, but he didn’t mind hearing Hannibal’s insights either.

“We could easily find you the supplies you need, Will. I could help you find a spot. We will need a house or somewhere more permanent to settle for a time, anyway. I can’t take much more of these dirty, loud hovels,” Hannibal replied, pressing a soothing hand to Will’s forearm. The space between them seemed to be growing wider each day. Will’s confused feelings manifesting in an unwillingness to engage. They talked less than normal. Will rarely let Hannibal touch him But, in this moment, he let Hannibal ease him into an embrace.

“Things will feel more normal soon, Will.” He promised.


A few months later, they settled into a place along the coast. The small, but cozy villa overlooked the ocean, beautiful in the brilliant setting sun. An explosion of yellows, oranges, and soft reds that contrasted with the almost too blue of the water. There were barely any waves; the night was gentle and warm, full of tension, heavy with lazy expectation. The hot, stillness was interrupted by a bottle thrown from the villa balcony, shattering into pieces on a rock below.

“Fuck,” Will cursed to the hot wind. He worried momentarily about sea turtles or birds getting hurt by the glass and vowed to clean up the mess as soon as he was sober enough to figure out how to walk down to the beach.

After a moment of deliberation, he decided he would be able to manage and walked tipsily towards the steps. It took a good amount of time, and a lot of clinging to the old, metal railing, but he made his way to the white sand and walked to the edge of the water.

Will slipped off his sandals and pressed his feet hard into the sand and water, focusing on the irritation of the sand against his skin and the soft rhythm of the waves. If he could have, he would have screamed to the empty, glittering, black sky. But he was never one to be able to express such extreme outbursts of emotion, even when he wanted to.

“What are you doing out here?” Hannibal’s voice, only a few paces back, startled him and he whirled around.

“Fuck, don’t sneak up on me like that. I thought you were in bed,” Will turned away from him, his energy cool and body language stiff.

“I thought I heard something outside, and I looked and you were gone. So, I followed you here,” Hannibal’s eyes searched over Will’s form and came to stand next to him, pressing a hand to his shoulder, but Will shrugged him off.

“Don’t,” Will admonished softly, but with a hard edge. He wasn’t in the mood for games, for world play, for exhausting metaphors. His head hurt, his mind hurt, his heart hurt.

“Please,” Hannibal’s voice was so soft, so pleading, so tender, it softened Will’s stance for a moment, and he turned slightly toward him.

Will began to reach for Hannibal’s hand but instead thought better of it and turned away from Hannibal again.

“It’s been so long since I’ve really touched you, held you…” Will rarely heard Hannibal speak like this. It was romantic, apologetic, and Will was surprised at how well this manipulation was working.

“Don’t. Just don’t. I can’t. Even if I wanted to, I just can’t right now. It’s too much,” Will could hear himself rambling, his words slurring. All he knew was his defenses were starting to fall with the liquor clouding his reasoning and Hannibal so close with his words so sweet.

“You don’t have to make a permanent decision right now, Will. It doesn’t have to be written in blood and stone…” Hannibal’s voice faltered momentarily. “Come to bed. We can talk about death, aesthetics, and morality tomorrow.”

Will’s resistance was crumbling down rapidly, Hannibal could always rip the walls down, walls that were fortified against all others, with a few words or glances.

“I don’t know…” But his voice and stance were softer now, and he slowly pressed the back of his head against Hannibal’s shoulder. Hannibal’s arms wrapped around his waist and rocked him gently, almost in tandem with the waves.

“Please stay,” Hannibal’s words were near pleading now. “I’ve never been terrified of anything as much as I am of losing you…all of the things that gave life meaning: poetry, art, music, philosophy will be grey and dull without you to share them with. Now that I know how much richer it is to partake with you.” Hannibal breathed against Will’s neck, nuzzling the softness of his curls and taking comfort in his scent and closeness.

Will brushed a hand quickly to his cheek to brush off a tear. “All right,” Will sighed, his hands resting atop Hannibal’s, leaning into Hannibal’s embrace. “Let’s go to bed. I’ve…I’ve missed sharing a bed with you.” Will admitted. This conversation was too intimate, too honest, it almost hurt how hyper-aware and attuned they were to each other in this moment. And the alcohol was making him far too open, far too sappy…

With Hannibal’s help returning inside was a lot easier, he kept a tight hold around Will’s waist, almost as if he was scared if he let Will go for even a moment that he would slip away.

Will slipped off his shoes and shirt and climbed into the soft, white sheets. Hannibal crawled beside him and brought Will close against his chest, stroking his face and over his arms in repetitive, calming motions.

Hannibal kissed Will’s lips gently, attempted to push the kiss further but Will pulled away. “It’s nice to feel you again, Will. To have you back in my arms.”

“For now., You have me back for now. There are conditions. There are things to be worked out.”

“I promise we will.”

“But not tonight, please.” Will pleaded. His voice was low and tired. He pressed his face into Hannibal’s chest.

“No, not tonight.” Hannibal kissed his head softly.

You can read the first chapter or leave a comment on this chapter on AO3. 

Dallas Winston~OMG

Request: heyyy ☺️😘 i absolutely love the way you write! if you can would you possible do an imagine where your the sister of the Curtis’s maybe like 13 and you have like a huge crush on someone from the gang so you stay like locked up in your room and your brothers think your sick or something’s wrong but your just embarrassed or to nervous to see the one your crushing on. sorry this sounds super complicated 🙈 you don’t have to do this if you’re to busy i just love the way you write 💗💗 thanks!! 💗

A/n: I’m so sorry this took long and OMG thank you so much

You never really left your room, it was just something you couldn’t get yourself to do unless completely necessary. I mean, who would want to be around a bunch of hot guys that just so happened to be best friends with your brothers and spent every breathing moment in your house? You wanted to, but Dallas was just so overwhelmingly gorgeous.

“(Y/n)? Are you alright in there?”

“Why don’t you come out of your room?”

“Are you sure you feel fine?”

They always asked you these kind of things, but it was only because they cared. You knew that Darry thought there was something wrong with you, he had only tried to send you to therapy around a dozen times this past week.

You sighed and looked up from your homework at the calendar you had on your wall.

March 14
7:00 Therapy appointment

The fire burned inside of you when you read that. You had told Darry multiple times that you didn’t need to see a therapist because there’s nothing wrong with you.

You ripped the calendar off the wall and practically kicked down your door. “God damnit Darry! How many times I gotta tell ya I don’t need therapy! There’s nothing wrong with me! You can’t fix something that isn’t broken!” You screamed slamming your calendar down on the table.

To say he looked angry was an understatement, he was just about ready to murder you with the whisk that he currently held in his hand.

“If you’re not depressed and hurting then what do you do the whole time your locked up in your room! Why don’t you ever come out, we never see you!”

It was a screaming war between the two of you. Back and forth, back and forth. You ran to storm out of the house but was stopped by Dallas. He shoved you into your bedroom closing the door behind you guys.

“Didn’t know I effected you that much Doll.” He teased sitting down next to you.

What you hadn’t realized is that in the middle of the fight you had screamed that you were embarrassed to be around Dally.

“Oh my god, this is even more embarrassing.” You mumbled with your head in your hands.

“Hey, look in the bright side. It could be Two-Bit.” He joked, but you didn’t laugh.

“Don’t be embarrassed, you ain’t got nothing to be embarrassed about.” He said patting your shoulder before leaving the room.

You sighed dreamily and lied back down on your bed. Dallas Winston had just TOUCHED your shoulder.

anonymous asked:

Hey, do you have at hand that funny picture of Anne sitting on top of her geetar tech falling down while ripping the wall curtains off??? Thanks! She scared me half to death when she fell from those speakers!

i love this photo so much

Spiderman: Bad Breath and Bad at keeping Secrets

Peter Parker x Michelle (MJ) …. sort of

@tomllholland Thank you for the amazing prompts!!! :D I hope you enjoy this piece as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

Was too excited/lazy to edit please excuse grammatical and spelling errors.

1. we have to stop meeting like this.

7. there’s only room for one hero in this city and it’s not you

24. I just have to outrun you

Peter loved being Spiderman- why wouldn’t he? The chance to be the hero was almost too good to pass up. Other than the late nights, and the lies, and the inconvenient scheduling of criminal activity, Spiderman hardly ever interfered with his school life. Peter was confident he could keep the two lives separate, after all he had Ned and Tony Stark to help him. The more Peter thought about it the more he thought that he had it all together- what could go wrong?

“Alright everyone, we’re going to be running laps around the gym. Now I don’t want to hear any whining- it is a requirement for this course to be able to run the mile in under twelve minutes,” The gym coach was going over the agenda for the day, much to everyone’s dismay it required a lot of running. Peter looked towards Michelle who was happily (he assumed) reading at the back of the bleachers. He idly wondered what she was reading this time. Last week it had been the Feminine Mystique.

“Now pair up we are going to start with the relay!” The groups organized themselves for the race. Peter wasn’t particularly worried about gym class anymore. Since becoming Spiderman gym class was a cake walk for him. He knew he was stronger and faster than everyone else there. Of course just because he had special abilities didn’t mean he could be out showing them off, his sudden athleticism might look a tad suspicious, so instead he just skated by with ease putting almost no effort into the class.

The whistle sounded and the relay started. Peter was in the last group of the relay standing next to his ‘biggest fan’- Flash.

“You scared Parker,” Flash taunted. Peter knit his brows together as he looked at Flash.

“Scared? Why would I be scared?” Peter asked.

“Scared I’m going to beat you Parker! Let’s face it you’re not the athletic type.” Flash smirked. Peter simply rolled his eyes- he had no idea who he was dealing with.

“Flash why does it ma—“ a loud rumbling erupted from behind the bleachers effectively cutting Peter off and silencing the rest of the students. All was still for a moment. A roar tore through the air as a giant golden dragon man came crashing through the bleachers slicing them into silver shards (Thank goodness no one was sitting on them). Immediately people began screaming as they ran from the field back towards the gymnasium. Bad this is very very bad, Peter thought as he remembered his spidey suit was still in his bag in the locker room. Flash and Peter turned on a dime as they began running for their lives. They had been the closest to the dragon man unfortunately and due to his large size he was gaining on them quickly.

“He’s too fast,” Peter shouted. Even if Peter were to run at full speed (and leave flash behind) it still wouldn’t be fast enough.

“I don’t have to outrun that thing,” Flash huffed.

“Huh?” Peter glanced back his way and was unnerved by the look in Flash’s eyes. Uh-oh.

“I just have to outrun you! (24.)” With those words Flash stuck his foot out and sent Peter stumbling to the ground. “Nothing personal Parker! Just survival of the fittest ya’know!” Flash called back to him as he ran for his own life. Typical, Peter thought bitterly. A low growl and a hot swoosh of air reminded him of where he was. Slowly Peter turned to come face to face with Dragon Breath himself. Foul air assaulted his nose as the beast breathed on him.

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on my fanfics

So you all know I write smut. Like smutty smut, Tog and acotar characters are constantly getting it on in my fics.

And I’ve been thinking about this for a while and have talked to some people about it, but I know a lot of people on here who read it are quite young. And sometimes it worries me, that very impressionable people are reading explicit sex scenes that I have written. Or at least it makes me a little uncomfortable, sometimes.

But I also wonder if it’s better than nothing. The male characters are always super giving and make sure that the females have an orgasm and tbh I draw from personal experience quite often because… I just don’t want it to be unrealistic? Like I won’t write shower sex because dudes… that shit does not work out so great ok. People get enthusiastic and grab shower curtains and suddenly you’re naked and wet and dealing with a head injury when the bar gets ripped off the wall and crashes down and it’s just… slippery and difficult and not all it’s cracked up to be.

Anyway… @my-name-is-fireheart just wrote a great post about sex in EoS and ACOMAF and it made me start thinking about this again (really, I’m constantly thinking about it as I write), how I write such smutty things and get really self-conscious about how I’m portraying sex. There are certain things I really try to reinforce, like consent, not ever writing a situation in which one of the people might be impaired (re: alcohol), the woman enjoying herself, intimacy, female desire, and then the small things, like you need to clean up after sex, especially if your partner comes inside of you.

I guess I don’t even know if I have a really salient point, except to say that I try to portray sex as a really positive thing, at least from the perspective of a cisgender female in a hetero relationship (because that’s all I’ve written, thus far). And I hope that it is ok, for people who are very young reading this? I made a jokey post about my fics getting people hot and bothered and how that’s pretty neat not creepy, as a writer, but also I think about this, about how young women with little to no experience might see these things and hopefully realize that they can have really, really good sex. Including orgasms and your partner taking care of your needs. And I hope you do get those things.

Honestly, if anything, this fandom’s thirst for smut just goes to show that:

  • Women like sex!
  • Young women, too!

There is no reason for us to be ashamed of this!

Growing up I always heard that boys wanted you for “one thing” (as many of us did, I’m sure), and ughhhh I fucking hate that bc you know what? I TOTALLY WANTED THAT ONE THING TOO. And hearing that warning repeatedly made me feel weird for wanting it. Like, it was just assumed that a teenage girl was only into boys because of her Feelings. Like it was assumed that if/when she had sex, she didn’t need to worry about how it felt physically. Like that’s irrelevant? Um, no.

And there are actually a whole lot more subtle implications in that statement – that boys are always the aggressor, that girls need to be on the defensive, that girls are just victims waiting to happen, that boys won’t like you for you, that girls don’t want sex, that boys always do, and probably other things. And it’s all utter crap. Sure, some of these things could be true, in some cases. But the force with which this message is pounded into young girls’ heads, as if it is The Truth is… ugh.

Ok so I’ll finish this rambling with a final thought, which is if I ever write anything that feels off or unclear or confusing or you have like… questions… let me know. I’m not an expert, but anon is always on and I know it might feel strange or uncomfortable talking about this stuff sometimes.

She’s No Angel (Part 4)

Originally posted by trashwilldo

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 5


The humming of the machinery calmed you, as you and Lucky walked back to your quarters. “Thank you again, Lucky.” You smiled reaching the door. The doors opened up and Lucky waited for his invitation. Others found it strange, how the flirtatious bad boy of troopers could be a gentleman, “But, only for you Angel.” He said strolling in. Lucky removed and placed his helmet on your kitchen island. Picking up the bottle, he examined the words. “Take three a day. Angel?” His blue eyes looked up at you. You turned to look at him. “Is this because of yesterday or-” You cut him off before he could continue. You knew where this was headed. “Luck, you don’t have to worry. I’m fine.” You grabbed the pill bottle and placed it in the cabinet. “But, I do.” Lucky whispered. You turned to look at him, only you got to see Lucky like this and you felt honored enough that he wanted to show you this side. Making your way around the island and engulfed him in a hug. “You shouldn’t, but thank you.” You squeezed him. Wrapping is his arms tightly around you, he spoke up. “Y/N,” he began, knowing this was a serious conversation. “I know how amazing and respectful you are and everyone told me not to worry. And then you didn’t show up to lunch and that stupid Matt guy wasn’t there and I was getting very suspicious.” You chuckled. “You thought I was hanging with Matt? ” “No. I thought Matt got you or something, but he came later. And don’t say it like that, I’m not jealous.” Shaking your head he continued. “Then, when I heard what happened, I just … when I heard” he squeezed you tighter. “I wanted to look for you, but everyone stopped me. I’m sorry.” You squeezed back. “It’s not your fault and thank you for caring so much.” You let go and still saw Lucky’s blue eyes still gazing down at you.

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Short Story: Do Traitors Dream of Institute Sheep

It hits him when he’s deep underground, backed into Listening Point Bravo and sitting on a Pre-War army trunk, head in his hands and fingers threaded through his sweaty hair. It strikes like a powered fist to the temple, like the sudden drop of a vertibird going down, like hearing the whistle of a mini nuke flying right for you. Sudden, explosive, crippling.

Where do I begin?

Danse remembers, through the cloudy haze of old memories, Rivet City. Remembers the junk stand he’d thrown together with the his meager caps. He remembers being hungry, being dirty, being small and scared and abandoned. No parents, no siblings. Completely alone.

And then there was Cutler.

Cutler, on that cool D.C. day, where he’d slapped a solid hand down on Danse’s bony shoulder, holding tight and giving it a reassuring shake. Cutler, with a big smile that stretched ear to ear, with little dimples in his dark cheeks. Cutler, with a pubescent voice and protruding Adam’s apple that bobbed when he talked.

“Next time, go a li’l higher and you’ll knock the wind outta ’em. But that was real clever, dumpin’ that oil behind ya to make ’em slip. I would’a never thought of that. Name’s Cutler, by the way. What about you?”

That day changed everything. At last, Danse had a real, true friend, and they practically lived in each other’s pockets. They went scavenging together, managed the stand together, slept back to back. Their lives were irrevocably intertwined. Because of Cutler, he survived. Their combined efforts brought in enough caps to keep their lips wet and their bellies full. It was not a good life, nor an easy one. But it was no longer a lonely one. It was theirs.

Then the Brotherhood arrived.

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anonymous asked:

imagine young dennor in a human AU, talking about space, existence, aliens, sharing conspiracy theories and things like that. and then norway says 'imagine an alternative universe where we're not in love'. and then they just stare at each other in a reaaaally awkward silence, proably also blushing. if it's not too hard, can you write it for you drabble requests?

Here you are! It might have turned out a bit different than what you were asking for, but I hope you’ll still like it.

It’s funny because I actually had a conversation like this last week. Sadly, it was not with someone I have a crush on, it was with my dad. Oh well, it was a nice memory anyway.

The cicadas made a comfortable droning sound and the summer air was so thick and warm Lukas could have fallen asleep.

Comfortable was the perfect word for how he felt. It still amazed him sometimes just how at ease he felt around Mathias.

Social interaction, well, was never his forte. Speaking, even existing within the world with other people was a minefield.

Other people held secret judgments and false kindness, their eyes darting quickly, making calculations and criticisms. There were times when he had felt sure he could read minds, as the ugly whisper of “What a weirdo” seemed to echo inside his head in a voice that didn’t belong to him.

It had been so much easier, to just disengage with a world that was fundamentally wrong for him. To feign indifference towards those who didn’t understand him and didn’t care to.

And then there was Mathias. Perpetually optimistic, sweet-natured, goofy Mathias who wanted so badly to rip those prickly, sarcastic walls down he must have done it just by sheer power of will.

Lukas had, in the blue glow of night, wondered if he had made the right choice. Should he just cut his losses, assume he would only hurt Mathias and himself in the end? Push Mathias away at all costs to save them from future heartbreak.

But it was times like these, sitting on Mathias’ back porch under the cloudy night sky together, that Lukas could hardly believe he had thought of throwing this relationship away.

“You know what I mean? Hey, are you listening to me?”

Lukas whipped his head to the left, worried. Did he think Lukas didn’t care? He’d been accused of it by past flames. Truthfully, they were right most of the time. But not Mathias. Not ever Mathias.

“I’m sorry, I was just-”

But Mathias didn’t seem even slightly irked. He just gave Lukas a soft smile and said, “It’s okay, I’m just kidding.”

“What, um, what were you saying?”

Mathias faced forward again and relaxed against the rocking chair.

“Oh, I was just thinking, you know, do you ever think about,like, parallel dimensions and stuff like that? Like, why do you think they exist? And what happens in them? I mean, there’s supposed to be eleven of them, right? And different things are happening in them all. Does that mean there’s one original dimension and timeline and all the rest are working off it like a template?

I mean, can you even imagine all the possible combinations of events that could be happening in those dimensions? And what’s the function of those other dimensions? Is one of them like an afterlife? Is that where we go when we die?

Oh! What if our consciousness gets saved to, like, some kind of metaphysical flash drive and then we get plugged back into another dimension? Or what if that’s what other solar systems are for? Do you think there’s conscious life outside Earth? What if they know about us but we don’t know about them? Do you think they’re trying to contact us and we don’t understand? Or are they ignoring us on purpose because they’ve seen our lives and aren’t impressed?”

Mathias’ voice kept rising in pitch and speed proportionate to his enthusiasm. As his mind bounced from topic to topic, Lukas’ stayed fixed on one particular thought. The silent rushing of his blood seemed to urge him on, telling him if he didn’t take a chance and speak his mind, everything he had worked so carefully to build with Mathias would come crashing down.

“When you put it like that…”

Mathias paused mid-thought, turning to listen to his friend.

“You’re right, the odds are practically impossible. To think, you and I. We ended up in the same dimension, in the same solar system, the same planet, and in the same neighborhood.

Mathias only blinked. Lukas took this as a sign to continue.

“Can you imagine it? A dimension where we’re not in love.”

Lukas’ breath was stuck in his throat. There was complete silence. All the nocturnal sounds had stopped, as if nature itself was eager to hear Mathias’ response as well.

Mathias cocked his head to the side and glanced up at one of the only stars currently visible. His face betrayed no apparent emotion.

Lukas felt sick. Had he destroyed the very thing he was trying to save? What if Mathias was disgusted or horrified? He had made a terrible mistake…

But then, Mathias looked back down at Lukas. And he smiled that same, gentle smile he seemed to reserve just for Lukas. His cheeks and ears were red. Was he getting overheated? It was rather balmy out.

“Sounds like a crappy place, if you ask me.”

Mathias rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and took Lukas’ in the other. He stroked the back of Lukas’ hand with his thumb and Lukas wondered if Mathias could feel how blushy and warm he was. He wasn’t used to such romantic, sentimental action but he fought his instinct to run or say something snarky.

It was several minutes before either moved or said anything. But in fact, neither boy minded. It was enough to simply exist together.

Mod Amanda

anonymous asked:

For some reason I think Harry likes it up against the wall, because I think he likes the urgency of it. You're so turned on that neither of you can neither make it to the bedroom, so he pulls you up against the wall, rips down your panties and fucks you right there with his arms lifting you up in his, hands gripping your thighs. Or maybe the couch as there's a juvenile element to it that reminds him of sneaking around when he was younger


The Viper Strikes Again! (Randy Orton x Reader) *smut*

A/N: This is the smut that I promised you for the 200 & 300 followers! Thank you so much for your support.  MASTERLIST

Word Count: 478

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex

You watched Randy from backstage as he fought his way through Kane and Seth Rollins, who used to be on the same side. But Randy left The Authority because he wanted to start a relationship with you. Randy had always been competitive when it comes to winning. You were his number one supporter.

Defeating Kane wasn’t as easy as beating Seth. But with an amazing RKO, Randy put Seth down and the referee counted. When he hit the mattress the third time, the crowd went crazy! You began cheering from backstage, holding Randy’s shirt close to you, inhaling in his manly scent.

Randy ran backstage and instantly hugged you. “The Viper strikes again.” You said in a muffled voice. “I always do baby.”  He pressed his lips to yours, molding them together. Your hands snaked around his neck and pulled him closer to you while his arms pressed around your waist. “I think this would be better if we took it to my locker room.” Small droplets of sweat sliding down his forehead and his bare chest. He pressed his lips next to your ear and whispered “The lighting is better.” He chuckled.

He pressed your body to the cold wall, kissing down your neck and ripping your shirt as you both locked your hands in each others. You wrapped your legs around his waist and hung onto him until he put you on the sofa. You lips were glued to his. He gently released and looked at you. “Damn you’re beautiful.” He removed your shorts and bra leaving you in your panties. His hands found your clit and he slowly massaged it, making you moan and wetter. “Randy, fuck!” He simply smirked and said “What’s the magic word?” He increased his movements making you unable to speak. “Say it.” He sucked on your breasts. “Please!” In one swift move, he removed his underwear and yours and slammed into you. Your breath hitched in your throat. “Damn you’re tight!” He slowly thrusted making you arch your back and your toes curl. “Faster.” You ordered and he instantly obeyed you. You felt him twitch inside you. His pupils dilated. He quickly got out of you and you put him in your mouth. You sucked on him, sending spasms throughout his body. “Fuck Y/N!” You looked up through your lashes as you saw Randy’s head thrown back, his hands tangled in your hair. You hollowed your cheeks and that sent him over the edge. You swallowed every single drop. “I’m not done with you.” He said. He pushed you back on the sofa and entered you. He pumped harder this time and sucked on your breasts. A familiar knot began forming in the pit of your stomach. Your body shuddered under Randy’s. He quickly pulled you into a hug. His warm lips met yours and whispered. “The Viper strikes again!”

Originally posted by relationshipaims