sensing your breath on my skin

IT’S GETTING KINDA HOT IN HERE

*I wrote this with the sun and mars signs in mind*

Aries: It was a cool summer night. “You’re crazy.” I said as you pulled me towards an abandoned building. “Don’t be scared, I just wanna check it out.” We wandered through the decaying concrete, graffiti on every wall possible. I was so scared but I was trying hard not to lose my cool. After all you were absolutely loving this. There was a loud creak and I jumped, grabbing your arm. “Babe calm down, look at me.” You said soothingly, rubbing my shoulders. We made out there in the middle of the building; in the middle of the night. Your kisses enthralling, and for a moment I forgot about everything else. The creak came again but louder, “Okay, fuck this.” You laughed, grabbing my hand and we ran as fast as we could out of there and into the summer air.

Taurus: It was pitch black, our kisses growing more urgent as you fumbled around trying to undo my buttons. “I can’t see anything.” you chuckled. I sparked my lighter and you looked around for a candle, finding one and lighting it with my flame; never taking your eyes off me. You undid my pants quickly with a smirk on your face and threw them dramatically across the room. Your lips finding mine again, making up for the loss of contact. “You are so fucking hot” you whispered, running your hands down my body, a trace of goosebumps forming on my skin. You pushed in slowly, moaning as you felt my heat. You buried your face in my hair I lost all focus. I just held on for dear life as the candlelight flickered erratically on the ceiling.

Gemini: Your bedroom was covered with so many posters I couldn’t see what colour it was painted. You had not one, but two lava lamps, one purple and one orange. We were laying on your floor, listening to Frank Ocean on vinyl, “Sometimes I think about faking my own death, and leaving the parts I don’t like about myself behind.” you said somberly, drawing lazy circles on my stomach with your finger. “Where would you go?” I asked. You propped your head up, your adorable face flushed purple in the light from the lamp. “Anywhere but here,” you said pulling me even closer, “only as long as I could take you with me though.” I ran my finger across your bottom lip and you bit it, we giggled quietly, then sighed. You kissed me so deeply, like an ocean tide that ebbs and flows. We made love, slow love right there on your bedroom floor. Every now and then, when things are quiet, parts of that night come back in flashes when I close my eyes.

Cancer: Snow had been coming down like crazy all day and everybody was staying inside. We had made the heroic journey to the store to get the bare necessities. Popcorn, paprika Pringles and those fruity toffees. Now we were cuddled in an abundance of duvets and pillows watching Spirited Away. “Are you cold?” you asked softly. “No I’m actually really warm.” I said adjusting the pillows behind me. Your eyes shot around the room, you bit your lip as your gaze landed on me. “What?” I asked when I noticed you staring. You grinned, “I’m kinda cold.” I couldn’t help but laugh as I lifted my blanket and pulled you into my cocoon. Your hand slipped under my shirt as you got comfortable. “Oh my god, your hand is freezing.” I shrieked. “Warm me up then.” you teased as you kissed me gently.

Leo: “You are such a goddamn hypocrite, why are you being so possessive?” I yelled at you. “Because I fucking love you!” you screamed even louder. My eyes shot wide as the words left your mouth. I felt like I was about to faint. Like everything I’d known for the past two months had been wrong. I put my hand on my forehead and slowly sat down on the sofa. “Since when?” I asked warily. You sat down next to me, leaving a little space between us, not wanting to scare me away. “Since the day I met you.” you said more gently. I shook my head in confusion. All these months I’d been crushing on you, telling myself I was a fool for thinking you could ever feel the same. “Look, I should go.” you said standing up, I grabbed your arm quickly and pulled you to me. I kissed you with my eyes open, I didn’t believe it but my eyes couldn’t lie. You picked me up and put me in your lap. “We can’t do this.” I whispered into your neck. You grabbed me even tighter, not ready to let me go. “Tell me to stop,” you breathed kissing down my collarbone, your finger toying with the band of my panties, “just tell me to stop.” Your eyes searched mine for an answer. Your finger inching further, grazing down the lace in front. I moaned into your mouth, giving you the answer you needed. The one we both needed.

Virgo: My phone buzzed next to my laptop. It was almost midnight and my chemistry notes were making less sense than ever. “Hi baby.” I half sighed as I answered. “Where are you?” you asked. “On my bed, what’s up?” I could hear your breathing through the phone, “Nothing, just thinkin’ about you. ‘Bout us.” you said cheekily. I closed my eyes as that familiar lightness hit my stomach. “Oh really, what are we doing?” I teased. You half groaned on the other line, “Thinking about your skin, running my tongue up your spine, and swirling it around your-” Now I was the one who moaned. “Can you come pick me up?” I panted. You laughed, “Thought you’d never ask.”

Libra: It was my first birthday in the new city and I was feeling more homesick than ever. You knocked on my door and told me to get dressed while you poured two shots of tequila. You took me on an adventure, stumbling through a regal museum slightly tipsy. I was laughing at this modern piece, you asked why I didn’t get it, I said the shape was a bit funky. From behind you wrapped your arms around my waist, pressing yourself up against me, “I think it’s a quite stimulating.” you whispered with a sly grin, and my entire body shivered. Then you took me to dinner, your eyes staring into mine the whole time and I could hear my heart beating in my ears. It was like moving between worlds, reality changing from hour to hour. I don’t even remember what we talked about, only what I was feeling. We couldn’t even last until desert, our minds running away from us. As soon as I opened the door to my place your lips crashed onto mine, and for the first time that night I felt like I could breathe.

Scorpio: “Do you wanna wrestle?” I asked you with a wicked grin on my face. “I’m not gonna wrestle you.” You said not taking your eyes of the TV. I jumped on you and the Xbox controller went flying. “You asked for it.” You growled as you started fighting me back. I knew I had no chance, I just wanted to get you all fired up. Before I knew it I was on my back, hands pinned down above my head and your strong thighs straddling my torso. “Who’s the winner?” you demanded. “You’re the winner daddy.” I purred, reaching up and biting your lip. Your expression shifted, your eyes going from that watery blue to devilish dark in a split second, and I knew I was in for a ride.

Sagittarius: It was 3 a.m. I knew I had school in the morning but at this point I didn’t care. Cruising around the city in your parents BMW, the bass in the sound system making our blood vibrate. Like it hadn’t been already. We didn’t say anything, we couldn’t. We couldn’t afford to lose control. Then L$D by A$AP Rocky came on. My hands were shaking in my lap, your knuckles white from squeezing the steering wheel so hard. The engine purred as you drove faster, now with a purpose, pulling into the beach parking lot. The car came to an abrupt stop and I couldn’t take this any longer. You moved your seat back as I jumped over the console. You kissed me like you were drowning and I was air. All that tension finally snapping like firecrackers as the music pumped through our bodies. Your strong arms lifted me up and pushed my dress up my thighs, the windows fogging up. I could feel your biceps trembling under the palm of my hand, and thought how could something that felt so right be so wrong?

Capricorn: The whole day had had a weird, electrifying feel to it. Now I knew why. We were standing out there on the balcony, face to face in the middle of the crowd. “Kiss me.” you said nonchalantly. “You kiss me.” I incited. You took a long drag of the joint, gently pressing your lips to mine as you blew the smoke into my mouth. I just stared back at you, blowing the smoke out again calmly, your fingers still caressing the back of my neck. You almost smiled but stopped it midway by biting your lip. I grabbed your shirt and pulled you to me. I kissed you like it was the last time. You pulled back slightly to catch your breath, “Wanna get out of here?”

Aquarius: The night I first met you. I didn’t wanna go out but my friends convinced me. The bar was so packed but somehow I got to the front of the stage. There you were, and that cherry red guitar, in your own world. I remember I couldn’t take my eyes of your fingers when you played. I didn’t even notice you were looking at me until the song was over. You laughed and playfully tugged on your shirt. I didn’t get why but then I noticed we were both wearing the same Led Zeppelin shirt. When the show was over you found me so quickly I knew you had been watching me. “I feel like this was meant to be.” you said leaning up against the bar. I took you in, your knuckles had little cuts on them and your black jeans were splattered with green paint. “I’m not really in the mood to make friends tonight.” I said, taking a sip of my beer. You ran your hand teasingly through that dirty blonde DiCaprio hair, “How ‘bout we just stay strangers then?” I knew I’d already lost this fight. The next thing I remember is literally falling into your foyer, your lips on my neck as I moaned in your ear. You held me so tight, pulling my shirt up ever so slightly just to put your skin on mine. I pushed you down, taking my shirt all they way off while I straddled your hips, and you looked at me like I had just discovered fire. When it was all over you grabbed my face with both your hands, “What’s your name?” you breathed. I smirked as I put my clothes back on, “I thought we were gonna stay strangers.” I was halfway home when I realized that the shirt I was wearing wasn’t mine, it was yours.

Pisces: The record had finished all the way through. That needle scratch sound from the record player filled the silence in the room. I was in your arms, tangled in bedsheets and your sticky bodyparts. You grazing my back lightly with your fingers. “I need to pee.” I said trying untangle myself limb by limb. Your arms tightened around me, “No, you can’t go.” you pouted. I giggled and wiggled around in your embrace. “I have to pee, I’ll be quick.” You pressed your forehead against mine. “Promise?” you said softly. I pecked your lips three times. “I promise.”

MCR Album Aesthetics

Bullets: Talking too loudly, a blissful feeling of dizziness, crowded parties of people you don’t know, kissing your friend just too see what it feels like, falling asleep to sirens.


Revenge: Missing someone so much it hurts, tear stained skin, chipped nail polish, red roses left on a grave, getting into a fight only because you’re bored.


Black Parade: Eerie silence, an inexplicable sense of loss, using a Ouija board with your friends, deserted hospital corridors, taking in deep breaths of cold winter air.


Danger Days: Dying your own hair, playing music too loud, worn leather jackets, a feeling of invincibility, endless inside jokes, knowing that no one else quite gets you.

Self-Care for Empaths


As an Empath, I am sure that you occasionally experience draining, exhausting, and hard-to-deal-with spells of overflowing emotions. We build up the energies that we are surrounded by, and this can sometimes be really overwhelming. For me, I get withdrawn and panicked when I am around too many people for too long. It leaves me feeling like I’ve become out of touch with myself, and oftentimes have a hard time getting her to return to me! So, inspired by some asks I have received regarding this topic, I felt compelled to create a list of things to try. Keep in mind that not all of these will work for every person, but I hope that you take with you some inspiration all the same! Without further ado, here are some of my own tips for those with empathetic abilities:

1). Keep notice of your physical health. I know it sounds a bit silly, but something as simple as keeping hydrated can be such a game-changer! If you notice yourself feeling especially drained and emptied of your own emotions, drinking lots of water can be the first step to regaining your own feelings. ♡

2). Take a moment away from the crowd. Have you ever felt especially over (or under) whelmed in regards to your emotions while being surrounded by others? This tends to happen to me a lot and, judging from my own experiences, excusing yourself for a few minutes is very healthy. I often feel a “build-up” of everyone else’s vibes becoming my own, and it leaves me feeling very unlike myself and especially distant. Take some time to be alone in the restroom or to go outside - take deep breaths, ten being your goal. Close your eyes. Center yourself. Gently pinch your skin, squeeze your own wrist, hold yourself. Allow yourself to come back to reality, and to become one again with your own senses. ♡

3). Keep track of your own emotions. As empaths, we obviously encounter so many different styles of basic emotions - we experience unique forms of sadness, happiness, or dread. Why not begin keeping track of what makes *you* feel certain ways? Start a special journal for your emotions. If you are around a certain individual, in a certain place, etc and experience heightened happiness, panic, love, discomfort, what have you… Write it down. Keep track of what makes you feel what. Try your best to notice patterns, and to avoid people, places, or things that leave you feeling negatively, all while welcoming the ones that do not. 😌🙏🏻

4). Practice grounding or shielding. Visualizing methods are not for everyone, but for some, they can very positively influence your state of mind! Take some time alone to meditate and manifest your own personal method of visualization. This could be imagining a golden light surrounding you, acting as a protective shield from others’ vibrations. It could be coming up with a special mantra that you repeat in your head during times of feeling overwhelmed: “I am here… I am real… My feelings are valid, and they are my own.” Practice this technique until you experience draining in real-time, and test our your method during such instances. ♡

5). Lastly… Remember to take time for yourself. Everyone needs to recharge, empath or not. Do not overwhelm yourself with activities or energy. Take a special day every now and then to show yourself some extra love, letting yourself be comfortable in your own presence and allowing the regaining of your own energies. Do something you love that relaxes and rejuvenates you! Focusing on yourself is always the best way to refocus your vibrations, and really embrace what makes you, you. ♡

Pass The Time (G.D) ♕

♕ = Smut, smut & smut :)

Requests: “Can u do a imagine where u have to stay at ur crushes house (Grayson duh) cause it was storming outside and it ends up becoming sexual after snuggling since u were in shorts and a spaghetti tank😂”

“Can you please write a smut about gray and choking. Thats all I want forever. just the whole time. Choking.”

A/N: This took me forever. You better enjoy it.

Word count: 7,700 +

Originally posted by sensualkisses


“Fucking hell!”

Your hands grasped the steering wheel tightly, you lower lip tucked beneath your teeth as you swerved past a truck, nearly grazing the edge. Rain drops and fog clouded your front window, making seeing what was ahead a hassle. Sounds of thunder could be heard from nearby and you sunk back into your seat; you weren’t particularly fond of storms like this, who was? There was a downpour as heavy as you had ever seen. Walking though a waterfall couldn’t get any wetter. The drops struck the already wet sidewalk, pitting the surface like they were bullets from above. There was no harm in it, LA would be just the same after the storm had passed. But by then it would have washed the evidence of the storm down the drains. You scowled and felt yourself sink even deeper into your seat, you knew what was coming next, it was inevitable. Thunder rumbled in the distance and a bolt of lightning cracked the gray sky into two. Jagged flashes of light cast a glow against your car. Your nails dug deep into the leather coiled around your wheel as you waited for the red light to pass, you weren’t supposed to be out right now. At least that’s what the news advised, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

Grayson Bailey Dolan.

That’s why.

Keep reading

Eyes Closed ;; Tom Holland

a/n: AHHHHHHHHHH IM SCREAMING BECAUSE BROOOOOO THIS HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR SO LONG AND IM JUST NOW WRITING IT AHHHHHHH. but on another note, lemme know what you think!! please!!

summary: tom and the reader are roommates and he has to close his eyes to help her out in certain situations

warnings: uhhh mentionings of nudity and some foul language

;;

“Thomas!” I yell from the bathroom, hiding my bare, cold, and wet body from behind the shower curtain.

God this was so embarrassing, but an honest mistake as well. My face started to heat up, my mind making up scenarios and the things Tom would say. He’d probably think I’m a major dumbass and who wants to live with a dumbass? Idiots. And Tom is not an idiot so therefor, after this is finished with, I am expecting him to start boxing up his stuff or something.

“Y/N? What’s up, is something wrong?” I hear his concerned voice muffled behind the closed door.

A soft smile is brought to my face at the sound of him, but I hurry to answer his question, “I’m fine, just forgot my towel on my bed. Can you like, I don’t know…”

There’s a brief silence between us and I hear his lighthearted chuckle, “You want me to bring it in there for you, Y/N?”

“I’m that much of a trouble?”

“Not at all, darling.” I listen to his footsteps fade away and then another light knock against the door, “I’m coming in, my hand is over my eyes so I won’t see you.”

I peek from behind the curtain and hold my hand out. The doorknob twists and he opens the door. It hits the door stopper and he walks in. I can’t help but let out a little giggle at how adorable he was acting. I’m glad he let me have my privacy and that he didn’t seemed phased by this. I grab the towel and thank him, our hands brushing in the midst of him handing off the towel.

“You’re great, T.” I smile, drying myself off from behind the curtain.

I hear him shut the door then on the other side of it say, “I’ve always wanted to hear you say that about me!”

;;

“Shit.”

Well actually, not really, more like piss but whatever. I’m still stuck on the toilet with no toilet paper. Why am I always stuck in this situation, and why do I always drag Tom into them? By this point, he probably doesn’t care, but I always feel so guilty afterwards.

“Tom!” I yell his name, setting my elbows on my knees in an effort to lean closer to the door. No response, “Thomas Stanley!”

Quick footsteps sound and they make their way closer to the door until it swings open, Tom appearing on the doorframe right in front of me, “Sorry love what’s up-“

“Tom! Get out what the fuck!”

The door slams as I grab the hem of the oversized sweater was wearing and tried to hide myself with it. My face burns with embarrassment, knowing all too well that he saw more than either of us wanted. I hold my head in my hands, mortified. Man, I need to start locking the door.

“I am-” Tom sighs from the other side of the door, “so stupid. And so so so sorry, Y/N.”

I breathe out a laugh, letting go of the sweater, “Your not stupid, it’s fine.”

“What did you need, darling?”

“Uhhh, toilet paper. Sorry.” I chuckle, knowing that the last thing he wanted to do was walk back in to the bathroom with me still sitting on the toilet.

“Alright, I’ll close my eyes this time. I promise.” he says, the smile on his face was evident in his voice.

The door handle twists again and I pull my shirt down again, just in case. His entire arm is thrown across his eyeslids this time as he holds out the toilet paper. I snatch it and he quickly turns around, blindly finding the door and walking out. It was a hilariously precious sight, and so nice knowing that I had at least a little dignity left.

“Thank you! I love you!” I call, tearing off some of the paper, the ripping sounding like angels singing.

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to deliver toilet paper to anyone other than you.”

;;

“Arrghhh!” I groan, throwing my arms down at my sides and stomping my foot in frustration, “This is why I should always wear sports bras.”

The clasp on the back of my bra was stuck and wouldn’t come undone. I would try and pull it over my head, but being that this is my nicest one, I wasn’t willing to risk damaging it. I look at the time on the stove and huff before throwing my arms behind my back again and struggling miserably, again. I should probably head back to my bedroom instead of standing in the middle of the kitchen with no shirt. But alas, the flat door opened and in followed Tom.

And like any sensible girl does when she’s only wearing a bra, I collapsed to the ground, hiding behind the kitchen island.

“Tom!”

“Y/N? Why are you broached behind the island?” he laughs, confused by my hiding.

“Uh,” I mumble, trying to think of a reasonable excuse but none are believable, so, i just blurt, “I’m not wearing a shirt and I can’t unhook my bra. Help?”

“My eyes are already closed, love.”

I rise slowly from the ground, watching him navigate his way towards me by touching everything. I guide him, and finally he’s behind me. His fingers cold against my hot skin, causing goosebumps to rise as he fiddles with the clasp.

“Oh, lacey? Who were trying to impress, Y/N?” he hums teasingly, playing with some of the small ruffles on the straps.

“I thought your eyes were closed, hmm? Don’t be a peeping Tom now, Tom.” I laugh at my own pun and can practically sense Tom rolling his eyes at my terrible comment.

“They are love, I’m a man of my word, I can feel the lace though.” He says, his breath hitting the back of my neck, causing a slight shiver to go down my spine, “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Myself.” I state matter-of-factly.

“Atta girl.” he chuckles, finally twisting the clasp free.

“Wow, you must have experience, Holland.” I chuckle, wondering how in the world he unhooked it with his eyes closed.

“Well,” he mumbles, eyes still closed as I start to walk away, “I may have peeked once or twice. And the blue looks nice on you I must say.”

“Thomas!” I squeal, running back to my room and shutting the door behind me.

IT’S GETTING KINDA HOT IN HERE

*I wrote this with the sun and mars signs in mind*

Aries: It was a cool summer night. “You’re crazy.” I said as you pulled me towards an abandoned building. “Don’t be scared, I just wanna check it out.” We wandered through the decaying concrete, graffiti on every wall possible. I was so scared but I was trying hard not to lose my cool. After all you were absolutely loving this. There was a loud creak and I jumped, grabbing your arm. “Babe calm down, look at me.” You said soothingly, rubbing my shoulders. We made out there in the middle of the building; in the middle of the night. Your kisses enthralling, and for a moment I forgot about everything else. The creak came again but louder, “Okay, fuck this.” You laughed, grabbing my hand and we ran as fast as we could out of there and into the summer air.

Taurus: It was pitch black, our kisses growing more urgent as you fumbled around trying to undo my buttons. “I can’t see anything.” you chuckled. I sparked my lighter and you looked around for a candle, finding one and lighting it with my flame; never taking your eyes off me. You undid my pants quickly with a smirk on your face and threw them dramatically across the room. Your lips finding mine again, making up for the loss of contact. “You are so fucking hot” you whispered, running your hands down my body, a trace of goosebumps forming on my skin. You pushed in slowly, moaning as you felt my heat. You buried your face in my hair I lost all focus. I just held on for dear life as the candlelight flickered erratically on the ceiling.

Gemini: Your bedroom was covered with so many posters I couldn’t see what colour it was painted. You had not one, but two lava lamps, one purple and one orange. We were laying on your floor, listening to Frank Ocean on vinyl, “Sometimes I think about faking my own death, and leaving the parts I don’t like about myself behind.” you said somberly, drawing lazy circles on my stomach with your finger. “Where would you go?” I asked. You propped your head up, your adorable face flushed purple in the light from the lamp. “Anywhere but here,” you said pulling me even closer, “only as long as I could take you with me though.” I ran my finger across your bottom lip and you bit it, we giggled quietly, then sighed. You kissed me so deeply, like an ocean tide that ebbs and flows. We made love, slow love right there on your bedroom floor. Every now and then, when things are quiet, parts of that night come back in flashes when I close my eyes.

Cancer: Snow had been coming down like crazy all day and everybody was staying inside. We had made the heroic journey to the store to get the bare necessities. Popcorn, paprika Pringles and those fruity toffees. Now we were cuddled in an abundance of duvets and pillows watching Spirited Away. “Are you cold?” you asked softly. “No I’m actually really warm.” I said adjusting the pillows behind me. Your eyes shot around the room, you bit your lip as your gaze landed on me. “What?” I asked when I noticed you staring. You grinned, “I’m kinda cold.” I couldn’t help but laugh as I lifted my blanket and pulled you into my cocoon. Your hand slipped under my shirt as you got comfortable. “Oh my god, your hand is freezing.” I shrieked. “Warm me up then.” you teased as you kissed me gently.

Leo: “You are such a goddamn hypocrite, why are you being so possessive?” I yelled at you. “Because I fucking love you!” you screamed even louder. My eyes shot wide as the words left your mouth. I felt like I was about to faint. Like everything I’d known for the past two months had been wrong. I put my hand on my forehead and slowly sat down on the sofa. “Since when?” I asked warily. You sat down next to me, leaving a little space between us, not wanting to scare me away. “Since the day I met you.” you said more gently. I shook my head in confusion. All these months I’d been crushing on you, telling myself I was a fool for thinking you could ever feel the same. “Look, I should go.” you said standing up, I grabbed your arm quickly and pulled you to me. I kissed you with my eyes open, I didn’t believe it but my eyes couldn’t lie. You picked me up and put me in your lap. “We can’t do this.” I whispered into your neck. You grabbed me even tighter, not ready to let me go. “Tell me to stop,” you breathed kissing down my collarbone, your finger toying with the band of my panties, “just tell me to stop.” Your eyes searched mine for an answer. Your finger inching further, grazing down the lace in front. I moaned into your mouth, giving you the answer you needed. The one we both needed.

Virgo: My phone buzzed next to my laptop. It was almost midnight and my chemistry notes were making less sense than ever. “Hi baby.” I half sighed as I answered. “Where are you?” you asked. “On my bed, what’s up?” I could hear your breathing through the phone, “Nothing, just thinkin’ about you. ‘Bout us.” you said cheekily. I closed my eyes as that familiar lightness hit my stomach. “Oh really, what are we doing?” I teased. You half groaned on the other line, “Thinking about your skin, running my tongue up your spine, and swirling it around your-” Now I was the one who moaned. “Can you come pick me up?” I panted. You laughed, “Thought you’d never ask.”

Libra: It was my first birthday in the new city and I was feeling more homesick than ever. You knocked on my door and told me to get dressed while you poured two shots of tequila. You took me on an adventure, stumbling through a regal museum slightly tipsy. I was laughing at this modern piece, you asked why I didn’t get it, I said the shape was a bit funky. From behind you wrapped your arms around my waist, pressing yourself up against me, “I think it’s a quite stimulating.” you whispered with a sly grin, and my entire body shivered. Then you took me to dinner, your eyes staring into mine the whole time and I could hear my heart beating in my ears. It was like moving between worlds, reality changing from hour to hour. I don’t even remember what we talked about, only what I was feeling. We couldn’t even last until desert, our minds running away from us. As soon as I opened the door to my place your lips crashed onto mine, and for the first time that night I felt like I could breathe.

Scorpio: “Do you wanna wrestle?” I asked you with a wicked grin on my face. “I’m not gonna wrestle you.” You said not taking your eyes of the TV. I jumped on you and the Xbox controller went flying. “You asked for it.” You growled as you started fighting me back. I knew I had no chance, I just wanted to get you all fired up. Before I knew it I was on my back, hands pinned down above my head and your strong thighs straddling my torso. “Who’s the winner?” you demanded. “You’re the winner daddy.” I purred, reaching up and biting your lip. Your expression shifted, your eyes going from that watery blue to devilish dark in a split second, and I knew I was in for a ride.

Sagittarius: It was 3 a.m. I knew I had school in the morning but at this point I didn’t care. Cruising around the city in your parents BMW, the bass in the sound system making our blood vibrate. Like it hadn’t been already. We didn’t say anything, we couldn’t. We couldn’t afford to lose control. Then L$D by A$AP Rocky came on. My hands were shaking in my lap, your knuckles white from squeezing the steering wheel so hard. The engine purred as you drove faster, now with a purpose, pulling into the beach parking lot. The car came to an abrupt stop and I couldn’t take this any longer. You moved your seat back as I jumped over the console. You kissed me like you were drowning and I was air. All that tension finally snapping like firecrackers as the music pumped through our bodies. Your strong arms lifted me up and pushed my dress up my thighs, the windows fogging up. I could feel your biceps trembling under the palm of my hand, and thought how could something that felt so right be so wrong?

Capricorn: The whole day had had a weird, electrifying feel to it. Now I knew why. We were standing out there on the balcony, face to face in the middle of the crowd. “Kiss me.” you said nonchalantly. “You kiss me.” I incited. You took a long drag of the joint, gently pressing your lips to mine as you blew the smoke into my mouth. I just stared back at you, blowing the smoke out again calmly, your fingers still caressing the back of my neck. You almost smiled but stopped it midway by biting your lip. I grabbed the your shirt and pulled you to me. I kissed you like it was the last time. You pulled back slightly to catch your breath, “Wanna get out of here?”

Aquarius: The night I first met you. I didn’t wanna go out but my friends convinced me. The bar was so packed but somehow I got to the front of the stage. There you were, and that cherry red guitar, in your own world. I remember I couldn’t take my eyes of your fingers when you played. I didn’t even notice you were looking at me until the song was over. You laughed and playfully tugged on your shirt. I didn’t get why but then I noticed we were both wearing the same Led Zeppelin shirt. When the show was over you found me so quickly I knew you had been watching me. “I feel like this was meant to be.” you said leaning up against the bar. I took you in, your knuckles had little cuts on them and your black jeans were splattered with green paint. “I’m not really in the mood to make friends tonight.” I said, taking a sip of my beer. You ran your hand teasingly through that dirty blonde DiCaprio hair, “How ‘bout we just stay strangers then?” I knew I’d already lost this fight. The next thing I remember is literally falling into your foyer, your lips on my neck as I moaned in your ear. You held me so tight, pulling my shirt up ever so slightly just to put your skin on mine. I pushed you down, taking my shirt all they way off while I straddled your hips, and you looked at me like I had just discovered fire. When it was all over you grabbed my face with both your hands, “What’s your name?” you breathed. I smirked as I put my clothes back on, “I thought we were gonna stay strangers.” I was halfway home when I realized that the shirt I was wearing wasn’t mine, it was yours.

Pisces: The record had finished all the way through. That needle scratch sound from the record player filled the silence in the room. I was in your arms, tangled in bedsheets and your sticky bodyparts. You grazing my back lightly with your fingers. “I need to pee.” I said trying untangle myself limb by limb. Your arms tightened around me, “No, you can’t go.” you pouted. I giggled and wiggled around in your embrace. “I have to pee, I’ll be quick.” You pressed your forehead against mine. “Promise?” you said softly. I pecked your lips three times. “I promise.”

Bad Match- Part 8/?

Series Summary: Bucky and the Reader are set up on a date, but things don’t go as well as expected.  

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Word Count: 4.5k+ ( Oh, yes!)

Warnings: angst, fighting, swearing, fluffy, slow burn.

A/N: I’m sorry because Part 9 can take a little long to be posted. I haven’t even started writing it and I won’t have any time to do it this week. Things are warming up though! Thank you for having my back @imhereforbvcky

Feedback? Please!!!!

 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 

You woke up feeling a nice warmth coating your face. Yet, there was also a coolness around your back contrasting the heat.  The bright light brought by the sun above you made you squint your eyes as soon as you opened them, but you were able to realize you were still on the rooftop.  Your legs were curled up on the soft cushion of the sofa and your upper-body was resting on a broad structure, which you found to be Bucky’s chest. He was still asleep, leaning back with his head on the sofa’s arm, both legs at your sides, one falling to the floor, the other straightened in front of him on the cushion, flesh hand behind his head, left arm holding you securely against him.

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Boss

Negan x reader

Words: 3400

Warnings: this is a grown up story for grown ups only, smut, rough and dominant Negan (just the way I like him), no cuddles here folks, hairpulling.

Beta: the amazingly talented @manawhaat

AN: So I started writing this a million years ago for a challenge @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash held, but alas life got the better of me and it never made it to the finish line. My prompt was hairpulling.

Originally posted by puhhleaseyouknowmysteez

Negan stood behind you as you tried your hardest at keeping focus on the task at hand, polishing your firearm. He was close enough to smell over the odour of the gun oil in your hand. You’d thought he’d smell different, that he’d be all walker stench and worn leather, but no. He smelled nice, clean, which was a rare commodity in this day and age. It juxtaposed nicely to the darkness in him, that very darkness you were trying not to get pulled into and seduced by. Why did he have to be so damn charming? The flirtation between the two of you had gone from timid and playful to intense and all consuming over the span of the last few weeks. Needless to say, going on runs with him had grown to be quite difficult because of it. Especially since you’d never gone all the way and released the bottled up tension and electricity.

“You have any idea how fucking sexy you look doing that?” He was close enough now for you to feel his warm breath ghost across your cheek as he spoke.

“Keep it in you pants, boss.” You chuckled and screwed the top on the oil, shooting him half a glance as to say don’t be a dick. You were flattered, but this was no time for him to be hitting on you. You both had a job to do and you did not need to get even more flustered before heading out there to kill walkers.

“Be my wife,” he hissed in your ear, the deep rasp of his voice sending shivers down your spine. “I’m sick of these fucking games.”

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3 Billion Dollars [Part 17] - G Dragon Mafia!AU

Originally posted by marikaa977

Summary: When your father owes 3 billion dollars to the mafia, he must repay his debt. Although things don’t exactly go the way he hoped.

Genre: FLUFFY STUFF MAN FLUFFY STUFF

Warnings: swearing and suggestive thoughts

{part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4} {part 5} {part 6} {part 7} {part 8} {part 9} {part 10} {part 11} {part 12} {part 13} {part 14} {part 15} {part 16} {part 17} {part 18} {part 19} {part 20} {part 21} {part 22}

Masterlist

A/N: Sorry, this is extremely late.So part 18 will be out Monday, cause I apparently work better at night. I hope you guys like today’s Sin Sunday! It was my third attempt at smut and the first one that I have ever posted! I have another one, unholier one, on the way. Inbox is always open, please tell me what you think! Enjoy the chapter!

~ Admin Brooklyn

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ji Yong hadn’t left your side since then. He always held onto some part of you, and after what had happened, you didn’t care. You had stayed by his side, the grip on his hand tight as he led you down the comforting hallways you’ve grown to know. The now comforting walls of the hallway welcomed you back, and relief flooded your tense mind. You were home again.

“You’re gonna be sleeping in my room,” Ji Yong said. You looked up at him and nodded your head in understanding. He smiles down at you and pulls you closer to him. You lean into his chest, breathing in his scent. God, you missed it.

“I’m gonna stay with you too okay?” His hand cupped your cheek, running his thumb over your skin lightly. You nod your head, not finding your voice at the moment. He kissed your forehead, bringing you a sense of security. He pushed open his bedroom door, walking in with you. You sat down the bed, Ji Yong standing right in front of you. “I’ll be right back baby girl, I’m just gonna grab an extra towel and stuff. I’m pretty sure you’ll want to shower.”

You nodded your head and watched as he left the room. It took a minute, but you let everything that happened soak in. You were drugged, sexually harassed twice, starved, beat, and threatened. People touched you in places you didn’t want to be touched, and you hated yourself for it. You couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop them the first time they came in. You couldn’t protect yourself. All that training, for nothing.

Ji Yong opened the door, holding up a towel and a toothbrush. A small smile was on his face. “I got your tooth brush too-”

He stopped talking as he saw you crying. He rushed over to you, setting down the supplies on the side of the bed. He held your hand and cupped your cheek, trying to get you to look at him. “Baby girl, what’s wrong?”

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anonymous asked:

Do you know anything that could help calm ptsd?

My friend, I have so much advice for you. These are of course things I’ve learned from therapy, personal experience, and from what I’ve learned working on my degree thus far.💞

  • Okay, so let’s say you’re having a flashback or really vivid trigger. Get yourself an icecube or something cold to hold. The cold is painful enough that it brings your senses back to reality and out of your flashback, but it isn’t too damaging to you physically.
  • NO self blaming. I’m not sure what your situation is but in the beginning for me anytime I had a flashback I would blame myself for what happened. I would then spiral down a much darker path, if you catch yourself self blaming, talk to yourself and talk about why it can’t be your fault.
  • I’m super big on soundscapes when I’m having an episode. Rain On Leaves is my personal favorite, put it on and darken the room to give your senses a small break.
  • Focus on one of the five senses, i.e. slowly look at what’s around you and notice the details; take a deep breath and smell the air; chew a piece of gum and taste the fresh flavor; put your hands together and feel the skin; listen to the sound of traffic.
    • Alternatively play the five sense game; count five things you can see, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, one thing you can taste.
  • Smelling (any)mint oil or chewing on mint leaves (helps with head-aches, nausea, and jolts the senses).
  • Count from one to ten slowly and then backwards, repeat until the flashback or panic attacks end. This honestly works and I’m not ashamed in saying I still do it.
  • Have a glass of tea, I know I suggest for this literally everything but tea can be really good for calming the nerves. Chamomile, lavender, and mint are all good for dealing with nausea/pain that might come with a trigger but also for calming you down.
  • If you want some witchy tips I can suggest some crystals I like to have/use for PTSD!  Carnelian is great for self confidence, anger, apathy, obsessive thoughts, and self esteem. Rose Quartz can be used for balancing emotions, nightmares, self care, guilt, irrationality, and intrusive thoughts/memories. Onyx is known for sucking up negative energies and neutralizing them, calming panic attacks, anger, aggression, and stress. Amethyst can be used for anxiety, grief, hopelessness, insomnia, intrusive thoughts/memories, stress, and poor focus.

I hope this helped a little dear! May good things come to you.🌿

Tattooed Heart

Characters: tom holland x reader

Concept: tom as a tattoo artist… or is he?

Notes: I really loved writing this and even started plotting of what will happen next because it became something that has a potential of becoming an official fanfic but… who knows. Tom in this imagine is still Tom but he is not an actor, his character is different but his personality is still the same (if that makes any sense?) 

Please tell me what you think as this is one imagine I’m really proud of writing, especially in only just a day.

Song: As You Are - The Weeknd

P.S.: I’ll be making a masterlist soon, so keep an eye out for that!

———————————————————————————-

“You’re done.”

“Bullshit,” you reply.

“We’re closing already, miss,” the bartender tells you as he takes away your unfinished bottle.

“I’m not even halfway drunk yet,” you whine but pull out your wallet and hand him a tip anyway. “Thanks.”

You hop down from the stool and notice that only you and a couple of other people being dragged outside are left in the bar. You take out your phone to let your friend know you are on your way home as you make your way to the exit.

The air is cool and comforting but it does nothing to cease the pain that you wished to drown out with alcohol. You hail a taxi and get inside, announcing your address to the driver as you sit back.

Your plan to lose yourself had failed tonight and now you’re left to deal with your misery. You were never the type to hate anyone but you hate the one guy you thought you trusted the most.

Fuck him.

No, you know what? Fuck anyone who has ever cheated.

At this thought, your throat constricts and you start to feel the tears start to form behind your eyes. You blink rapidly to try to keep them from falling but fail. You wipe them off right away and start hating yourself for not being able to get yourself drunk enough to forget.

You needed at least one night, one moment, where your head and heart aren’t fully invested in the pain that you’ve suffered for the past hours. You needed a distraction, something-

And then you see it…

“Stop the car!”

The taxi skids to a stop and a flustered driver turns to you, completely shaken up. You reach into your wallet and hand him a couple of bills before you step out of the vehicle. You stand on the wet sidewalk, in front of a small building with neon signs declaring it as a tattoo shop.

You incline your head to try to get a look inside through the window but see nothing. Is it even open?

You start to have second thoughts but the taxi has already left and you really don’t want to be out in the streets alone. You walk forward and pull on the door which swings towards you easily. You step inside and soft rock music is playing from somewhere farther down. The walls are painted red, furniture and decor compliment them in black. Leather chairs sit at one end of the floor, below a huge wall plastered with nothing but pictures and designs of tattoos.

You step closer to the wall and start to admire one tattoo that looks like a dragon being born from a rose. The colors, the details from the veins of the flower’s petals to the scales of the dragon, have you wondering if you didn’t accidentally step into a museum.

“What do you have in mind?”

“What the fu-!” You jump as your hand flies to your chest to somehow calm your now frantic heart. You turn slowly and a guy is leaning on the clear, glass counter that sits in the middle of the room; separating the waiting area to the rest of the shop.

The guy seems to be in his twenties, although his face has a certain boyish look to it. He’s definitely attractive, you have no doubt about that. He’s wearing a leather jacket with a black v-neck underneath. Usually, you would run away from someone so good looking but the bit of alcohol you drank gives you little confidence enough to stay.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles and it’s then that you notice his english accent.

He has an accent, for fuck’s sakes!

“Uh, no, it’s fine,” you turn to look at the wall of tattoos again. “I actually don’t know what I want to get.”

“You like Rosy?” He says and you look to see him walk around the counter and make his way to stand next to you.

His fragrance hits your nostrils and you have to refrain from moaning. He smells exactly how a man should smell; husky and sexy at the same time.

“Who’s Rosy?” You ask, your voice wavering a little.

He points at the design of the dragon and the rose. “Get it? She was born from a rose.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I get it. It’s beautiful.”

You feel him glance at you as you stare at the design. Your cheeks burn from the intense attention he’s giving you.

“What brings you here?” He asks.

You shake your head and shrug. “Needed to get away-”

“-from reality,” he finishes for you.

You look at him and nod, smiling. “I bet you get a lot of those around here, huh?”

This time, he’s the one who shrugs. “I get a lot of stories. It’s one of the reasons I love the job.”

“So these are all your designs?” You ask, pointing at the wall. He nods and says nothing more. “Then why is it so empty?”

You both look around the room. Then he starts to chuckle, “I barely opened a few minutes ago, love. It doesn’t get crazy until much later.”

He called you ‘love’.

“Do you have an idea of what you want to get?”

“Yes. The word ‘DUMBASS’ on my forehead, please?”

“Sure, follow me,” he simply replies.

Your eyes go wide as they watch him start walking towards the back. “Hey, wait! I wasn’t actually being serious!”

“You weren’t?” He continues walking, forcing you to follow him anyway.

“I don’t want that as my first tattoo!” You insist.

“Then why are you following me?” He turns to look at you, his eyebrow raised and a smirk playing at his lips.

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips and you realize that it’s the first genuine smile you’ve had since you found out-

“Take a seat,” he tells you once he leads you into a vast room. A black leather chair sits in the middle of the room, the kind of chair that dentists have in their office.

You sit down and watch as he walks around the room, picking up instruments and small bottles of colored ink.

“I haven’t even told you what I want,” you tell him as your nerves start to take over.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his back facing you as he fumbles with something.

“I don’t really think I have enough trust to give out to anybody anymore,” you sigh. “Especially to someone I don’t even know.”

He pauses what he’s doing and doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. You try to remember if you said anything that might have caused him to be offended. He then starts to remove his jacket and places it on the counter. Even from here you can tell he’s toned underneath his shirt and his exposed arms confirm it. He turns around slowly and takes a seat on the individual chair set up next to the one you’re sitting in.

“I’m Tom,” he says and reaches out with his hand.

You stare at his hand and then at him and then back down to his hand.

“I’m y/n,” you reply and slide your hand into his. It’s unexpectedly warm but smooth and he seems to hold your own hand for a while before he lets go.

“We know each other now, don’t we? Will you trust me?”

“It’s not that simple…” you start and he gives you a small smile.

“Will you let me tattoo you?” And the way he asks that question, the softness of his voice and the way his eyes stay glued on yours, makes you feel like that’s not really the question he wanted to ask. “I already have some things in mind… I can put one here,” he touches the inside of your wrist, “or here.” He slides his fingers up your arm until they reach the crease of your elbow, your whole arm erupting into goosebumps. He notices and glances quickly up at you before he continues, “A lot of people get small ones here,” he tells you and he’s leaning forward now. He pushes your hair back behind your shoulder and then touches your neck, just below your ear. His proximity and that intoxicating smell of his has you almost swooning.

“Will it hurt?” You ask breathlessly.

He’s so close to your face and he doesn’t seem to want to retreat anytime soon and it’s starting to make you feel lightheaded.

“It’s less painful than being heartbroken,” he states and finally sits back. He grabs the small gun where he attaches a black ink bottle.

You’re staring at him, completely shocked at what just came out of his mouth. “How- how did you know?”

“Your eyes,” he states as he squirts some ink onto a tray until the ink comes out. He glances up at you before taking your hand and pulling it towards him. He places your arm on the armrest of the chair and turns it so that your palm is facing up. “Do you trust me?”

Here’s this guy you barely met, with an tattoo gun in his hand, ready to permanently draw on your skin. Just a few hours ago, you swore to never trust any guy again.

“I trust you,” you murmur and you’re surprised when your words don’t carry regret in them.

He grins, “Good. You can’t look until I’m finished, though.”

You roll your eyes but lean back in the chair anyway. You hear the buzz of the gun as he powers it on and your heart stops. He senses your tension and you feel his hand lay on top of yours. You grip it tightly.

“Relax, love. I got you,” he says softly.

You take a deep breath and let it out and then feel the needle penetrate your skin. Again and again and again. Repeatedly.

“Who’s the asshole?” Tom asks as he continues to work and hold your hand.

“My boyf- my ex-boyfriend,” you reply and your thoughts drift to that moment you walked in on him in bed with someone else.

Tom was right. The needle poking your skin over and over is nothing compared to the ache you feel in your chest.

“What a dumbass,” is all Tom says but it makes you smile.

“How come you don’t have any tattoos?” You ask him as you recall not seeing any on him.

He stops tattooing you and then his face appears in your line of vision. “How do you know I don’t have any that you can’t see?” He smirks a playful smirk before disappearing once again and continuing your tattoo.

“When you’re done, can I see them?” You don’t even know what made you ask that but you were curious.

He doesn’t respond right away. “I’ll think about it.”

You continue to have small conversation and you learn that he dropped out of art school to pursue the dream of being a tattoo artist. He tells you that even though he doesn’t earn as much as a heart surgeon, creating art on someone’s body is much more satisfying.

The thoughts of your ex cheating on you completely disappear as you listen to his stories and he listens to yours. The hole in your chest is still there but the needle Tom uses to ink your skin seems to help ease the feeling.

“Almost done,” he tells you as he swipes your wrist with a damp towel several times. “I think that’s it. Ready to see it?”

You sit up straight and he lets go of your hand. He watches you as you look down at your wrist; where your skin used to be vacant, it is now embellished with a beautiful flower. Small dots decorated its shadows and all around it, creating depth. Blue ink outlined its petals while pink ink colored them in.

“Wow,” you breathe out. “What kind of flower is it?”

“A lotus flower,” he tells you. “They say that lotus flowers bloom no matter the bad or good weather. It made me think of you. Beautiful, no matter the situation you’re going through.”

At this, you look up at him and he’s staring at you so intently, it feels like your whole body is on fire.

“Now it’s your turn,” you tell him.

He chuckles as he stands up and walks towards a cabinet where he takes out some materials. “My turn for what? You’re going to tattoo me?”

“No, why would I scar you like that? Show me your tattoos!”

He sits back down next to you and pulls your arm towards him once again. He starts to bandage your wrist, placing a clear cover over your tattoo and taping it down. He then stands up and with his eyes glued to yours, he reaches behind him and pulls his shirt over his head.

Your jaw probably hits the floor because the sight in front of you is absolutely mesmerizing. His abs stand out immediately and everywhere your eyes roam, there is nothing but muscle and firmness.

“I just have a quote on my shoulder,” he points out to you.

“Well I can’t see it from down here,” you say and stand up. He’s still a little too tall for you to tell what it says. “Sit,” you order and he gives you a smirk before he sits on the chair.

You stand behind him and look at the lettering that spell out words you cannot comprehend. “What does it say?”

“Try to sound it out,” he replies.

Non accipiet sed facilisis,” you say slowly.

He suddenly stands up and faces you. He towers a bit over you and the fact that he’s half naked makes you feel a bit intimidated. He’s grinning sweetly down at you as he speaks, “It means ‘take it easy but take it’ in Latin.”

“Why did you want me to sound it out?” Your voice comes out shakily.

“I wanted to hear it said in your voice. It sounded better than I expected.” He’s standing so close, his body heat can be felt even through the layers of your own clothing. “Did it help?”

“Did what help?”

“Getting your first tattoo to help you forget about your ex?”

“That,” you can’t help but smirk, “and some other things.”

“Hmm.” His lifts his hand and uses his fingers to push your hair back behind your ear. He continues his path down to your neck and then up to hold your chin. “Would you let me tattoo you again?”

His eyes stare straight at your lips and you know exactly what’s going to happen next. You can hear your own heart beating so fast, you think that maybe you’ve gone deaf.

“At this point, I’ll let you tattoo anything anywhere you want,” you whisper.

He smirks. “Good girl,” and then he’s leaning down, slowly, and you close your eyes and-

“TOM! YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

The shouts come from outside the room and you take a step back, completely startled.

“Fuck,” Tom spits out and then puts his shirt back on. He shoots you an apologetic look, “I’ll be right back, just stay here, okay?”

“Are you sure? I can go-”

“No. Please, stay,” he holds his hand up to stop you. “Just wait for me here.” He turns towards the door but before he steps out, he looks over his shoulder, “Trust me?”

“I do,” you respond immediately, and it’s true, you do trust him for some reason.

He opens the door and closes it after him but your curious self walks towards it and you press your ear against the door.

Their voices sound muffled but you can tell that the one who shouted is pissed. Is it an angry customer? Maybe you should call the police in case things got physical.

Before you make any hasty decisions, you decide to make sure Tom actually has everything handled. You turn the doorknob slowly and open the door and their voices finally are clear enough to understand.

“- respect you enough to know that sometimes you can’t stop shit from happening but this came from one of your guys, Tom. This is business we’re talking about.”

Tom’s back is facing you and you can barely make out the face of the booming voice yelling at Tom. “I know what the fuck we’re talking about, Dave. I’ll get Luke to sort it out and I’ll have your money ready by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow morning,” Mean Man shoves a pudgy finger in Tom’s chest before he his eyes find you. His round face relaxes but it turns quickly into a sneaky stare. “Having yourself a little snack before the drop, I see.”

Tom follows his eyesight and his eyes almost bulge out of his sockets when he sees you staring. He turns away and points at the door, “Fuck off, Dave. We’re done here.”

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” Dave sneers at Tom and then speaks at you. “Ask Tom for my number if he doesn’t, uh,” he chuckles, “satisfy you.”

“Fuck you,” you reply.

Dave didn’t expect that at all and he’s rendered speechless. Tom laughs and shakes his head, “I think the lady’s said enough. Now get the fuck out of my shop.”

“Tomorrow, british boy.” And with that, Dave leaves, slamming the door behind him.

Tom goes to the door and locks it. He places his palms against it, his head hanging down between his shoulders. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” you tell him and step forward slowly.

He lifts his head but stays in the same position. He finds you standing behind the counter but says nothing. “You have some balls to be able to talk to Dave that way.”

“I think there was something in that ink you tattooed on me,” you say, showing him your wrist.

This earns you a soft laugh from him. He finally drops his arms and sighs. He walks in your direction and stands across from you, on the other side of the counter. You both say nothing for a while, just gazing at each other’s faces.

You’re not sure if you have feelings for someone you barely know- well, someone you thought you barely knew. Now you’re not even sure who he is. This dark, secret side of him somehow makes you want to know more about him and you don’t know why.

“You don’t want to get involved with me, y/n,” he whispers to you and there’s a sort of sadness in his stare.

It’s also the first time he’s said your name and you wish you could’ve recorded it just to hear it over and over again. A lullaby.

“Why not?” You ask.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“Somehow, I do,” you reply genuinely.

“Then trust me when I say that I’m no good for you,” he states.

You bite your lip as you feel the hole in your chest start to open up again. Why is this guy making you feel this way?

“Okay,” you force yourself to say. Maybe this is the right thing to do. Right?

“What?” He seems surprised.

“Fine, I won’t get involved with you,” you say, sounding pissed off. You make sure you have everything you need, avoiding his eyes and make your way around the counter. You feel slightly disappointed and you hate that you do because after everything that’s happened, you really didn’t want to get involved with a guy any time soon.

But Tom…

“You’re unbelievable,” he says and you turn to talk back but are completely taken by surprise when Tom’s hands are on either side of your face and his lips crashes on yours. The impact of his body on yours sends you tumbling back until your back hits the wall. His mouth is unforgiving; completely taking control in the way his lips move around yours.

Your hands fist around his shirt, pulling him closer. He pushes himself on you and you can’t help the small moan that escapes from the back of your throat and loses itself into his mouth.

The kiss is too passionate, making your head swoon, but you don’t mind; it’s a high you can never get enough of. After a few minutes, he lets go of your lips but leans his forehead against yours. You’re both completely breathless and you lick your lips, trying to get any taste of him that you can.

You open your eyes but his remain closed. You tilt your head slightly so that the tip of your nose rubs his and he grins. He finally opens his eyes and looks so deeply into yours, your knees turn weak. He leans forward and pecks your lips softly, over and over again, making you giggle softly.

“How much do I owe you?” You ask in between the kisses.

“For?”

“The tattoo,” you reply.

“This is enough,” he breathes out.

You both smile into your next kiss and you continue to kiss until you can no longer think straight.

Even though you could stay there forever if you wanted to, you place your hand on his chest to push him back. “As fun as this is, I gotta go. My friend might be worried.”

“Understandable. When will I see you again?” He isn’t as close as he was a few seconds ago but he remains close enough so that his hand is against the wall above your head.

“Uh, I need to come back here every now and then so you can check that it’s healing properly, right?” You ask, lifting your bandaged wrist.

He chuckles. “Yeah, that’s required. Here,” he pushes off the wall and goes to the counter and comes back to you. He hands you a small card, “Here’s my number in case if you have any questions or an… emergency.”

He has on a sly smirk that makes you believe the word ‘emergency’ has a different inuendo to it.

“Will do,” you reply and turn towards the exit.

“Did it help?” You hear him ask behind you.

You turn your head and nod, “Yep, most definitely.”

A little vampire Hannibal thing because I needed a change of pace tonight. There may be more of this if anyone wants it? IDK? 

Hannibal’s eyes shot open in the dark. He pressed his palms flat against the lid of his coffin and pushed it open. Rising from his velvet-lined box, his bare feet padded across the stone floor and carried him up the stairs and into the kitchen.

Hannibal smelled him before finding him there, his back turned at the counter. He turned to Hannibal, clutching a crudely sharpened wooden rod in one hand.

“I was so blind,” Will said. “But I see you now.”

Hannibal crossed to the fridge, his back turned to Will now as he tugged the door open. “Would you care for a drink?”

“That’s what gave it away, you know. At first. You stopped drinking the wine.”

Hannibal pulled out a bottle of beer and poured it into a chilled glass. He set it on the counter in front of Will. “I brewed it myself,” he said.

“And then you started seeing patients only at night. Stopped answering your phone during the day.” Will took a long swig from the beer and set it back on the counter, still gripping the thing intended for Hannibal’s heart. “It’s been three months now, maybe a little more.”

Hannibal stood close enough to Will now to feel his breath move upon the air, hear the ticking of his pulse beneath his skin. “Very good. I’ve been expecting such a visit from you since the night it happened.”

“How did it happen?”

“It would seem my senses failed me. I should have been more careful about what I was putting in my mouth.”

“Shouldn’t that be who?”

Hannibal smirked. “Your senses certainly haven’t failed you.”

“You were feeding them to us.”

“Yes.”

“Why are you the only one who turned?”

“I was the only one to consume the flesh of the afflicted.”

Will scoffed, turning the stake over in his hand, tightening his hold. “Afflicted,” he said, pressing the stake to Hannibal’s sternum, gently, just enough to pucker the fabric of his shirt. “Is that what you consider yourself?”

“I have become what I am now through no fault of my own.”

Will laughed from his belly, a rich sound that filled the kitchen. “I’d say consuming human flesh is a fault, Hannibal.”

Hannibal smiled. Had he a pulse any longer, perhaps it would be racing now. Not from any fear, but from the fire brimming in Will’s eyes. “Waiting for daylight to end my life would be much simpler. I cannot rise from my slumber until the sun goes down.”

“I’m not here to end your life,” Will said through clenched teeth. He pressed the stake harder into Hannibal’s sternum. “I want you to make me like you.”

“To do so, you would have to consume some part of me.”

“Open a vein. Your blood should be enough.”

Hannibal scented the air. Will’s anticipation was palpable. A heady taste on his tongue. “You come here with a stake to my heart so certain I won’t open one of yours.”

“If you were going to kill me, you would have done it months ago.”

“I’ve yet to feed tonight.”

“You have plenty of blood in the pantry.”

Hannibal bared his teeth. “Blood is best fresh. Warm. The scent of you alone is intoxicating,” he said, leaning into the press of Will’s stake “Imagine how you would taste.”

Will let the stake fall from his hand to the floor. From the block on the counter he pulled Hannibal’s chef’s knife, and without hesitation used it to delicately open his wrist. “Taste me, then,” he said. “I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

Hannibal gripped Will’s wrist, the blood flowing freely there, and brought it to his mouth. The taste of Will was just as he knew it would be, decadent, like honey dripping fresh from the comb into his belly.

Their eyes stayed locked together as Hannibal drank, Will’s face twisting into a snarl. It took all of Hannibal’s willpower to pull away, to wipe his mouth delicately with a tea towel, then use it to wrap Will’s wrist.

Had he a pulse any longer, certainly it would be racing.

“My turn,” Will said, panting, presenting Hannibal with the knife.

“How can you be certain this is what you want?”

“I’m tired, Hannibal,” Will said, his eyes wet and shining. “Please.”

Will’s hand was trembling as Hannibal took the knife. Blade met wrist and blood flowed, red with new life. Will brought it to his mouth.

Between his empty lungs, Hannibal was certain he felt his heart, beating once again.

Couldn’t Help Myself (Samoa Joe x Reader)

A/N: OK SO I MADE THIS ???? Listen, I’ve been thirsting over Samoa Joe for quite a while, actually, but I had no one to share it with. Now though, after tonight’s RAW, everyone seems to FINALLY GET IT. So, I thought I’d write this to celebrate. I’ve legit never read Samoa Joe fanfiction before, so I have no stand point, just my horny self. I hope you guys enjoy it, I know he’s not for everyone and that’s just fine! Laters! xx

Side note: There are no good Samoa Joe gifs ???? 

Warnings: Slight dom mal/sub female. Swearing, teasing, shy reader. unprotected sex, smut without plot.

Word count: 4108 lolol

Tagging my usuals and some more: @hardcorewwetrash @imagines–assemble @imagineall-the-fandoms @blondekel77 @thiickreigns @m-a-t-91 @valeonmars @littlemissava13 @nuroxic @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @superrezzy00 @momis30 @laochbaineann @alexispoo @taryndbiase @reigns420 @horcruxhunter5972 @xfirespritex @wrestlewriting @heelcharlie @archiveseb @wwefangirl69 @oreillyskyle @gingertalksshit @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @princess3733 @ridingmoxley @panic-angel3314 @wrestlingnoob @sunflowers-and-swear-words @wwe-rollins-lover @baeckyshorsewomen @the-greekgoddess @metabalaba @roaring-storm

Originally posted by totaldivasepisodes

You didn’t know exactly how it happened.

One second, you were talking to this guy at the bar, shyly pushing away his advances; the second, you and him were separated by a large body, your hands clutching to the counter like your life depended on it.

Truth be told, you weren’t particularly upset about being interrupted, seeing as the guy in question had been really insistent and was making things more uncomfortable by the minute. Hell, his innuendos were barely hidden, and you did not enjoy the way his eyes kept ghosting over you like you were nothing but a piece of meat waiting to be bitten into.

You were, however, extremely surprised about who had stepped in.

Samoa Joe, of all people.

Keep reading

Map of the World

Molly can’t understand it.

The bigger her belly gets, the more fascinated Sherlock becomes with it.

The baby was a shock, not something she thought he’d want. When she first told him he’d stared at her for a full five minutes- screen-saver mode, John calls it- and then this beautiful, wide, delighted smile had split his face.

It had almost made him look a different man.

He’d picked her up and spun her around, demented, it seemed, with joy at the thought of her having his child.

He’d dropped to his knees and pressed his ear to her stomach. Listening. Kissing. Crooning. Grinning.

He’d splayed his fingers around her still-flat belly and a love affair had begun. A love affair which grew deeper and more passionate the larger, the rounder she became. 

It seems he loves her bump; the bigger it grows the more it fascinates him.

His devotion is single-minded and ardent- Something which for Molly is both bemusing and surprising in equal measure.

She asks him one night, when she’s sore and tired, and feels the size of a whale, what the big deal is? Why he’s so taken with it, when she often feels it embarrassing and unsightly. When she has to waddle, and she can no longer see her feet, and using the toilet has become a gymnastic event.

For once, he looks at her like she’s mad.

“Your body’s so lovely, Molly,” he tells her. “And now it’s changing, and I get to watch.

What man with sense wouldn’t want to witness that?”

And he leans down, kisses her bare, rounded stomach. Runs his tongue and fingers along the grooves and callouses of her pregnant skin. He calls them rivers and ravines, his tone hushed. Worshipful. They are proof of topography, he says, and of a life lived well. They’re proof that she’s, well, her, and that she’s chosen him.

“My world is here now,” he tells her. “Never doubt it.” He kisses her belly, breathes in her scent. “And you in there, little bean, you never doubt it either.”

Though she feels the size of a planet, Molly can’t help but smile.

So she winds her fingers through his curls and lets his voice lull her to sleep.

We say we’re simply friends but when we hold each other under the falling light of late summer the warmth in my chest tells the truth my thoughts tremble to. The truth is this. My mind is a highway leading back to the earth that is the color of your skin, my lips are drunk men hooked on the taste of you. And goodness, I wish I could tell you. I wish I could tell you how worth it you are to me. I wish I could look you in the eyes and say that yes, I know it’d be hard to make this work but I swear to the gaps in your heartbeat that I’d do everything I could to have you in my arms and my fingers intertwined with yours like satin thread that is impossible to untie. The emotional barriers we place between our eager bodies are simply shielding hearts that are so irrevocably frightened of the way they beat for each other. I feel the heat of your skin and the pressure of your chest in the bottom of my fucking lungs as if you are a breath I cannot, and would not want to exhale out into the world of those who do not know what loving you feels like. Maybe it’s only the fleeting sense that everything I love will one day slip away from fingers that are too human to hold them but I want to take your face in both of my hands, lean close enough to you to smell your skin again, and know we are the only kiss our lips will ever be satisfied with. I never expected to feel this strongly for you but I don’t think anyone could feel your body that is as soft and warm and strong as August sunlight, hear your laugh that is so unexpected and feral, feel your arms around them that are as powerful as they are tender, like rain that never floods, and come away unscathed by the very sight of you. You always say I’ll make someone lucky one day, but goodness, I’m willing to dive headfirst into that complicated, messy, magnificent soul of yours for that someone to be you.

-ap (9.5.17) friends don’t hold each other like this

Part Eight // Somebody Else [A Stiles Stilinski Story]

Prompt: Stiles broke her heart and now she can never look at him the same. They remained friends, but she can’t exactly find it in herself to truly forgive Stiles and he doesn’t know how to accept her new relationship with the one person he can’t stand. Overtime, they both eventually got over each other… or have they?

Series (collab with @sarcasticallystilinski): Prologue Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven -

Relationship: Stiles Stilinski x Reader/ Stiles Stilinski x OFC

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Oral (female on male), Fingering, and Swearing.

Word Count: 2,908

A/N: Well, guys this is it. I know I can speak on behalf of my partner in crime throughout all of this and myself that we are so happy with how much everyone seemed to like this story. We love it so much and to see people actually love it too is amazing. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this finale (also if you haven’t followed @sarcasticallystilinski yet you really should because she’s fucking awesome)!

“Katalina?”

It was as if the entire world stopped moving around, except for the floor that suddenly shook and fell beneath her feet the moment her eyes landed on his. The same warm honey colored ones, with also a hint of curiosity in them, that never ceased to take her breath away. Stiles stared at her with confusion on his face at her sudden appearance on his doorstep, his heart now beating faster with her here.

All of the thoughts and words she once had planned to confess to him immediately flushed away from her mind and all Katalina could do was gaze in awe at him. The boy who she missed so dearly and wanted back in her life more than anything. The boy who had her completely wrapped around his finger.

“Katalina?” Stiles repeated to the completely still girl with wide eyes as he snapped his fingers in front of her face, hoping to somehow bring her back to the real world. “Hello?”

The snapping seemed to work because the second he did, her mind seemed to function again and she slightly jumped back to life. Shaking her head, Katalina nervously tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

“I-I had a whole speech planned. B-But then I saw you again and I-I lost every train of thought I’ve ever had.” She confessed and Stiles’ eyebrows quirked in response.

“I guess I still have lingering effect on you, huh?” He chuckled light-heartedly, scratching the back of his neck.

The comment was just a small and simple remark to make the tension between them a little less awkward but Katalina took it more seriously than Stiles expected.

“Of course you still have an effect on me.” She stated and the pace of his heartbeat increased considerably. “Because sure I can delete your number on my phone and unfriend you on Facebook to try to forget you or even erase photos of us. But, what the hell do I do about your husky voice still ringing in my ears? Or the feeling of your igniting touch lingering on my skin? Tell me, what do I do about all of the memories we share together and the burning image of your breath-taking smile I see every damn time I close my eyes?”

Stiles’ eyes were wide at how much he didn’t expect Katalina’s words. He knew that at one point she loved him but he had no idea that, even after everything, she still loved him with such passion and fire. It made his heart feel warm and a sense of peace he hasn’t felt in years.

“T-That was amazing for someone who forgot their speech.” Stiles stuttered, not knowing how to respond in a non-sarcastic way. “You should really get into improv.”

Katalina let out a sudden laugh and the beautiful sound was music to Stiles’ ears as it mended his broken heart back together. And the gorgeous smile on his face was what put her back together as well. All of the ice that was in both of their wounded hearts was being repaired with warmth which melted away all of the cold.

“Huh, I guess I should.” Katalina giggled.

“I missed the sound of your laugh.” Stiles smiled and a heated blush crept up her cheeks at the confession.

“I missed you.” Katalina pushed loose hair behind her ear and Stiles couldn’t hide the way he swooned.

“You did?”

“How could I not? You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more.” She grinned, quoting his own words from the letter he wrote to her.

Stiles’ heart stopped when she did and there isn’t a single doubt in him that his soul is connected to hers and that he only belonged to the beautiful girl standing at his doorstep.

“So, I take it that you read my letter?” Stiles smiled with a blush and Katalina nodded, smiling back at him without second thought.

“I definitely did. And it’s funny because ever since I finished it, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She stated. “Which actually made me wonder just how long you’ve been on mind.

"And then it occured to me: Stiles, ever since I met you,” Katalina continued. “You’ve never left.”

The boy whose heart was destroyed and ruined beyond repair felt it come back to life along with the girl whose heart was once mangled and weighing heavily beneath her ribs. The words and confessions they shared with each other took out those shattered hearts, stitched them back up and returned them whole.

“I love you, Stiles Stilinski.” Katalina said the words he has been dying to hear for the longest time. “Always have, always will.”

“If you really think that I’m going to just run back into your arms after everything that happened,” Stiles began to say and Katalina’s face immediately fell, knowing that it couldn’t possibly end well. But, Stiles suddenly placed his finger under her chin and lifted her face to look back up at him. His eyes were warm and he had a soft smile on as he placed his hand against her cheek. “Then, you’re absolutely right.”

Neither one of them needed to say anything else to know that all of the tension, the anger, the hurt and awkwardness between them left both of their bodies to never again return. The two gazed lovingly into each other’s eyes before Stiles glanced down at her lips and Katalina’s breath hitched in her throat at the knowledge of what was about to come. Butterflies made their way into her stomach as Stiles closed his eyes and leaned in closer to her. She shut her own eyes in preparation and a feeling of happiness sparked in her heart the second his soft lips touched hers.

The kiss was calm and smooth, both desperately wanting to show their passion through slow movements. Stiles’ and Katalina’s lips meshed together in an addictive pace, both groaning when they needed to breathe.

“I love you, too.” Stiles breathed, his forehead resting on hers. “And I have to say, you look absolutely beautiful with that sweater on.”

“I had a feeling you’d like it.” She smirked.

“Did you now?”

“Yeah, but wouldn’t you like it better if it wasn’t on me anymore?” Katalina grinned, feeling a need to be closer to him than just by their lips touching. “Is your dad home?”

“No.” He smiled. “He’s working the whole night shift.”

“Really?” Katalina smiled back.

“Really. Do you want to come in?” Stiles asked and the young girl felt no need to hold back her smirk.

In a matter of seconds, their mouths crashed together again and this time the kiss was hard and desperate. Stiles, suddenly, pulled her into his house and she let out a laugh at the unexpected move. Once they were both inside, he slammed the door shut  and pulled her lips back on his. He didn’t even wait before lowering his hand from her cheek and placing both of them on her ass.

“Jump.” Stiles commanded with a husky voice and Katalina shivered at just how sexy he was.

She followed his directions and thrusted herself up into his arms, letting out a small yelp when Stiles squeezed her ass. However, she took this opportunity of accidentally breaking their kiss to grab the hem of his lacrosse sweatshirt she was wearing and pull it off her body. Katalina couldn’t find a worry in her bones as she threw it on the floor and Stiles turned them around to walk up the stairs. Their lips were back together and Stiles successfully managed to climb the staircase with Katalina tight in his arms. With every step he took, both teenagers became more and more excited to be joined together again after everything terrible that happened.

Careful not to drop her, one of Stiles’ hands let go of her to open his bedroom door. After they were inside, without breaking their kiss, he put his hand back and closed the door shut with his foot. Katalina’s body bounced on the mattress the second he dropped her on the bed and, with lust rushing in the both of them, Stiles reached behind his back to gab his shirt and yank it off of him. A jolt of desire sparked inside of him at the sight of Katalina biting down on her lip and pulling of the shorts she was wearing. Both pieces of clothing fell on the ground at the same time and Stiles excitedly dropped his sweatpants. His eyebrows quirked when he stepped out of the pants and just as he was about to remove his boxers, Katalina scooched to the edge of the bed and swatted his hands away.

The sight of his bulge straining against his blue underwear and a little wet from his increasing amount of precum was what made Katalina jump into action, completely turned on from how much he was. Stiles’ body shuddered when she lightly played with the dark hair above his briefs before snapping the hem of his boxers against his hips. She pulled it down his legs and audibly moaned when his erection appeared in front of her which made Stiles moan in response.

“You don’t have to-” He began to suggest even though lust was clouding his mind and thoughts.

“Oh, Stiles, I want to.” Katalina interrupted as she wrapped her dominant hand around his base and the other grasped his thigh for stability.

She licked her lips in excitement and Stiles felt as if he would melt from how hot the girl he loved was. The second her warm and wet mouth wrapped around his swollen tip, Stiles couldn’t hold back the animalistic groan that came from deep within him. That exact sound, however, made the amount of wetness already pooling in Katalina’s panties to grow even more. Stiles’ hands made their way into her hair as she gently sucked his head, swirling her tongue on his slit and collecting the salty precum.

“Fuck, Kat.” He moaned, massaging her scalp and making her moan in response. Stiles, suddenly, bucking his hips at the vibration. “That feels so good.”

Katalina removed her hand from his base and placed it on his thigh. Stiles’ eyes rolled to the back of his head and he twitched immediately the second she took all of him in, his tip touching the back of her throat.

Stiles’ grip on her tightened when he couldn’t hold back anymore and thrusted into her mouth, which to be honest, Katalina didn’t even mind. She loves the way his face contorts in complete pleasure and, even though tears are now watering in her eyes at how intense this was, Katalina’s enjoying it just as much as he is.

“O-Okay, stop stop stop.” Stiles groaned, pulling her off of him.

Her lips detached from Stiles’ shaft, a small string of spit taking her place, and she pouted at the sudden loss of contact. Stiles was breathing heavily as he reluctantly opened his eyes and let go of Katalina’s hair. He looked at her and never has she looked more beautiful. Her lips were red and swollen, but her eyes were sparkling up at him.

“I don’t want to cum unless it’s in you.”

“Well, then what are you waiting for?” Katalina smirked, both of their pupils immediately dilating.

Those words snapped something in Stiles like never before and he immediately dove into action. He kicked his boxers completely off of his legs as Katalina backed up on the bed and he gently pushed her down onto the mattress. His lips were back on hers with such need and desperation that their teeth were now clashing as they kissed but neither one of them truly cared enough to stop. Stiles’ hands slid behind her back and unclasped her bra with ease. He broke their kiss to plant wet ones on her skin as he slipped the straps down her shoulders. The bra soon met the rest of their clothes on the floor and Stiles instinctively placed his mouth on one of her breasts.

Stiles’ hand trailed down her body until they reached the hem of her panties and, without even feeling like teasing her since he too desperately wanted more, he pulled it off her legs and dropped them elsewhere. He sucked lightly on her pulse point and the increasing ache in her core was interrupted when he unexpectedly skimmed his middle finger inbetween her soaking wet folds.

“Holy shit.” Stiles moaned and Katalina’s hips bucked from how badly she wanted more friction.

Stiles complied and slipped his middle finger into her warmth, earning a loud and shameless moan from her lips. He gently hooked his finger inside of her and moved against her walls, the delicious feeling stimulating intense pleasure in her which provoked sudden desire for more than just his sexy hands.

“Stiles,” Katalina moaned, her voice breathless as she leans her head back into his pillow. “I need more.”

He thought she meant more of his hands and began to slip another finger inside of her only to be stopped by Katalina’s hand grasping on his wrist. Stiles immediately removed his face from her nipple to look up at her with curious eyes.

“I need more of you.”

Stiles’ erection immediately twitched at her seductive voice and, without missing a single beat, he pulled his fingers out of her and put them into his mouth. Katalina moaned at how sexy he looked and Stiles moaned at how amazing she tasted before he spread her legs further apart and pumped himself a few times at her entrance. Stiles wet himself with her arousal and gazed deep into her eyes when he knew they were both ready.

Katalina’s own warm eyes stared at him as she reached for his free hand and laced it with her own, the small act of tenderness making his heart flutter. With their fingers intertwining together and never breaking their intense but affectionate stare, Stiles carefully slid himself inside of her. Due to how wet and slick she was, moving into her was easy and completely pleasurable. Both of them let out loud moans of appreciation at the fact that they were connected again after everything, but this time in the right way. There was no more guilt, no more pain and no more worries floating over their heads. Stiles and Katalina were finally back where they belonged. They were finally home.

Stiles thrusted into her slowly, feeling no need to make this fast and desperate. He wanted to enjoy every second he had with her and she certainly didn’t complain. The slower Stiles moved, the faster their hearts beat. They both gazed at each other with such love and care in their eyes that Katalina couldn’t hold back the smile on her face. The sight made Stiles’ entire body flood with happiness, the same happiness he hasn’t felt in the longest time.

It’s like what’s said in the 80’s movie they both love so much, St. Elmo’s Fire. “There are several quintessential moments in a man’s life: losing his virginity, getting married, becoming a father, and having the right girl smile at you.” That right girl to Stiles was Katalina and he knew that this image of her smiling up at him adoringly as he made love to her would be burned in his memory forever.

Even though they went slow, the deep thrusting certainly didn’t fail to build up an insane amount of pleasure in them. And before they even knew it, Stiles and Katalina were succumbing to the lust and intense orgasms were crashing down on them with incredible force. Electricity and ecstasy ran through their veins as they cried out each other’s names, her back arching into his chest and her toes curling into the mattress. Stiles’ moans, on the other hand, were muffled when he stuffed his head back into her neck at the same time that his body twitched and released his liquids inside of her heat.

When the pleasure pooling in their bodies was replaced with satisfaction and bliss, Stiles pulled himself out of Katalina and fell beside her on his bed. They were so peaceful from the loving sex they just had that they didn’t even mind the sweat lingering on their skin or the evidence of arousal still on their groins. All they could think about was how in love they were with each other as Stiles wrapped his arms around her naked body and brought Katalina closer into his bare chest. Pushing her damp hair off her face, Stiles left tender kisses on her forehead.

“I’ll never stop loving you, Kat.” He smiled and, even though she was already sleepy, Katalina looked up at him with admiration in her eyes.

“I’ll never stop loving you either, Stiles.”

Stiles leaned in and kissed her deeply, too addicted to her lips to let go. The kiss was so passionate and full of love that it put every other kiss on the planet to shame. Since the invention of the kiss, there have been a few that were rated the most romantic, the most pure. But, this kiss left them all behind.

It didn’t matter how hard Theo or the universe itself tried, these two were inseparable and nothing would ever keep them apart. Even when the odds worked against them, Stiles and Katalina would always find a way back to each other, no matter what.

Etched In Ink- An Ivar Imagine

So this is what I wrote yesterday instead of attending to my responsibilities. I’ve been wanting to write this idea for a while, hope you enjoy!

TW: blood, knife play, tattooing with a needle

******
“Are you sure about this?”

Ivar rolls his eyes, spreading out his tools on the long, well worn table. “I have told you already, woman, I’ve seen it done many times. It does not appear all that difficult.”

You fidget nervously with the neckline of your dress, watching your lover wipe down a very long and very sharp needle. You shiver.

“Yes, but you’ve never actually done it before,” you point out, your voice laced with anxiety. “What if you make a mistake? What if you tap too hard and accidentally kill me? What if-”

Ivar cuts you off with a soft growl. “You said you wanted a tattoo. I said I wanted to be the one to give it to you. Here we are. Are you going to get up on the table or not?”

He gives you a hard look, his beautiful blue eyes burning into your skin. You sigh. You do really want a tattoo. And you trust your body with your lover implicitly. He has taken perfect and reverent care of it since you first offered it to him. So you cross the room and climb up onto the table.

“That’s my good, sweet girl,” he praises you as you lie down. He glides a hand over your face and down your neck, touch light as a feather. You can feel the familiar flush creep up your body as he expertly unties the front laces of your dress. He pushes the fabric down to reveal the skin right over your heart. One calloused finger circles the area, brushing over the top of your left breast teasingly. Shivers shoot down your spine.

“Are you going to tattoo me, or just grope me?” You ask, your voice coming out more breathy that it should. He chuckles darkly, hand covering your breast and squeezing roughly. You shoot him a glare, even though you are half tempted to forget the tattooing and make him put his hand in other places.

“What is if that you want? You never did say,” He asks, removing his hand to prepare the needle.

“A Vegvisir,” you say, and watch as his brow furrows in confusion.

“You want a compass?”

“Yes,” you nod, firm in your decision. “And I will tell you why after this infernal process is over.”

He shrugs. “Whatever you wish.” He looks at the patch of skin again. “I think I will have to lay out a pattern first, so I have something to work off of.” He reaches down to his belt and pulls out his knife. “I will just carve it lightly into your skin with this.” A smirk blooms across his face. “This at least you are well acquainted with.”

Are you ever. Ivar loves to use his knife on you when you are alone and nestled under the furs. He also loves to have it used on him in return. It’s not something you would have foreseen yourself enjoying, but Ivar has a way of drawing out the deepest and darkest parts of you and twisting them to your mutual pleasure.

“Hold still, sweet girl,” he places the blade against your skin, the coolness of the metal familiar and a little thrilling. You wince slightly as he makes the first shallow cut, his brows drawn together in concentration.

“You know, you may have to be more careful with the marks you leave on me,” you try your best to keep perfectly still. “Yesterday the new slave girl who helped me bathe asked if I’d been bitten by a wild animal.”

He continues working but his face splits into a feral grin, no doubt picturing the very red and fresh bite mark he’d left on your inner right thigh the other night. “What did you tell her?”

It’s your turn to grin. “I said yes.”

That makes him bark out a laugh, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners in the way you love. “Naughty thing,” he teases.

It doesn’t take him long to carve out the design. Before you know it he is putting down his knife and leaning forward to press his face into your chest. You suck in a breath, waiting for what you know is coming. Ivar does not wipe away blood. At least not with his hands.

The first stroke of his velvety tongue has you sighing in bliss. The warmth and wet feels wonderful on the sting of the shallow cuts. He licks in long, slow strokes, pausing every once and a while to let out a soft groan of pleasure. You melt to a languid liquid under his ministrations, your bones becoming soft and pliant and ready to bend to his complete will.

He pulls back all too soon, licking his lips like a cat who ate the cream. You watch the last of your crimson blood disappear into his mouth, unable to help but squirm as heat creeps up your spine. Ivar notices, and chides you gently with a wicked smile.

“Not yet, sweet girl,” he coos, picking up the ink and the dye. “Afterwards, if you are very good and keep very still, I will reward you. Now, I must get to work, or we will be here all night.”

You huff in frustration but attempt to calm your body. After all, you do really want this tattoo. You can be patient.

You watch him place the ready needle against your skin. A stab of fear runs trough you. It’s silly really, you’ve had his blade on you more time than you can count and you’ve never felt anything but excitement. This shouldn’t be much different. Except if he makes a mistake, you’ll have to walk around with it on your body for the rest of your life.

Ivar does not coddle you as he senses your fear, however. He simply gives you a broad wink, and taps the needle into your skin.

It hurts, but not as much as you thought it would. It feels like being stabbed with a million little tiny knives, over and over again. Painful, but not unbearable. You decide to focus on Ivar’s face, letting your eyes linger on every handsome feature. The stormy blue eyes, the sharp cheekbones, the soft, pouty lips, the strong jaw. A face you have come to love more dearly than you could have even imagined. You think of the meaning of the ink he is currently etching in to your skin and you feel your heart swell. You hope he will like the symbolism of your tattoo.

You lie on the table for what feels like forever. Ivar barely says anything, his face a mask of concentration. You’d given up trying to talk to him after he’d snapped at you to shut up and let him work. You have tried your best to keep still but you find yourself squirming more than once. Each time, Ivar had hissed through his teeth and you had quickly stilled. But you’d been here for ages. If you were on this table much longer, you’d go mad.

“There,” Ivar says finally, pulling away and removing the needle from your skin. “I think I am finished.”

“How does it look?” You ask anxiously, craning your neck to try to get a glimpse of the ink now permenantly a part of you. Ivar reaches behind him and produces a piece of reflective glass Bjorn had procured on his latest Mediterranean raid. You sit up slowly, wincing at the ache in your chest.

“See for yourself,” he hands you the glass, a self satisfied look on his face. You take it from him, taking a deep breath before looking. You let out a surprised gasp.

It’s beautiful. Pure, midnight black lines, perfectly etched. The shape is even, everything is in its proper place. You smile as you admire it. You had to say, your lover had done an amazing job.

“I love it,” you turn your gaze to Ivar, who gives you a genuine smile in return. “Thank you, Ivar. It’s beautiful.”

“I told you it would be fine,” he takes the reflective glass from you, putting it back where he took it from. “Now will you tell me why you chose a Vegvisir?”

You reach out and take his broad hand. It completely envelops yours, strong, deft fingers covering your own.

“A Vegvisir is a compass, a magical symbol made to help one find their way through rough weather,” you squeeze his hand, suddenly feeling nervous. “You are my compass, my guide through the rough weather. When I touch or see this tattoo, I will be reminded that though life will have storms, as long as I have you, I can get through them.”

You meet his eyes, and the honest surprise and almost child-like hope in them make your heart ache. You have told Ivar you love him before, but from the way he is looking at you now it seems like there was a part of him that never really believed you. Now, with your love for him permanently on your body, he maybe can finally understand and accept the depth of your emotions.

“I am your compass, your way through the storm,” he breathes, his other hand reaching out to gently brush the tender inked area. “I am on your body, in ink and blood.”

You bring the hand holding your own to your lips, kissing his weathered knuckles. “Yes, Ivar. For always.”

His hands are then cradling your face, his breath fanning across your skin as he leans in.

“My sweet girl,” he sighs, “do you even know how perfect you are?”

And then his mouth is devouring yours, tongue hot against your own as he kisses you like a man starving for it. You kiss back eagerly, though with you on the table and him seated beside it’s an awkward angle. But you do not care. You can only think, feel, and taste Ivar. He invades every one of your senses, sinking into your very flesh like the midnight ink shining on your chest. Every fibre of your being cries out for him, and you find yourself whimpering desperately against his lips.

He pulls away, his face once again in the array of arrogant confidence you are used to. “Such a good girl you were under the needle,” he purrs, and you whimper again as his hands slide down to your waist. “You stayed very still for me. I think my sweet girl deserves her reward now, don’t you?”

You can only nod, following his impatient hands as he tugs you off the table and on to his lap. His hungry mouth finds your neck, sucking greedily at the tender flesh. You wriggle against him, the ache from the tattoo being replaced with an ache of a totally different kind.

“Suppose I should get a tattoo for you now,” he groans into your neck as you dig your nails harshly into his shoulders. “Maybe you could even give it to me. Odin above, the thought of you pushing a sharp needle through my skin over and over…” he breaks off with a violent shudder.

You smirk, reaching for his knife still laying upon the table. “Why don’t you let me practice then?” You run the tip of the blade over the shell of his ear, delighting in the animalistic growl that tears from his throat.

“I am supposed to be rewarding you,” his teeth nip harshly at your pulse point. You grab a hold of his luscious hair and pull his head back so you can look into his lust glazed eyes. You trace his parted lips with the knife, and his eyes go almost completely black.

“Oh honey,” you coo, excitement and lust and passion boiling hotly in your veins, “to have you in any way is a reward to me. Now be a good boy and beg.”

Another feral growl, and his hands tighten eagerly on your waist. His head bows slightly, his eyes look down at the floor. He says nothing, but the beginning of his submission has started. It’s rare he lets you take the reins, and you feel like your need for him is about to burst out of your skin.

You grin, your new tattoo throbbing in time with your racing pulse.

This was going to be one hell of a good reward.

****
Happy Monday, sister wives! ❤️❤️

You Have a Bad Sex Life With Him: Part 2

Part 1

Masterlist


The rain pattered against Gemma’s window, my fingers fiddling against the corner of my book. I can just barely see the words on the paper, only the occasional lightning making each word visible. Gemma snores softly beside me, and I almost start to cry wishing I am able to sleep now. But my eyes resisted each flutter, and now here I am, awake and drowning in my thoughts.

My head falls lightly onto the window, the glass leaving a spot of cold against my skin.

“I said don’t be afraid” I sing under my breath, my voice quivering the slightest. “I’m coming home.”

I close my eyes, a single tear drop flowing down my cheek, landing softly on the page of my book. I instantly wipe it away with the pads of my fingers, shaking my head. 

I close my book softly, placing it gently down on the bed before quietly slipping out from under the duvets. I make sure to walk quietly out the door, making sure to not disturb anybody before making my way into the kitchen.

I slide the light, illuminating the room to as dim as it can be. Loneliness consumes me, wraps me up like a cocoon, fighting against the restraints. I’m miserable, spending a night where my thoughts haunt my insides, where I’m alone wondering if this is how every night will be.

A night without Harry is something foreign. I’ve always needed him near, touching me in some sort of way, feeling his skin burn through mine. It’s comforting to me, feeling the effects of a man you love. It’s a drug, an intoxication, burning your insides until you feel the high. That’s how I felt with him every night, in paradise, because it’s just me and him, with no sense of an outside world, no care or thoughts, just us. 

I lean against the counter, tracing the shapes I made out in my head. I take a few deep breaths, hoping to compose the emotions threatening to spill out. I feel like he’s slipped completely out from between my fingers, and he’s so oblivious that he just keeps his hands clenched, as if still holding on.

Tears begin to fall from my eyes, dropping onto the counter. I don’t bother holding them back, choking with each inhale. 

I cry until there’s nothing left inside of me, just an empty void of nothingness. Just a pit of numbness, settling in my stomach. Until my cheeks are dried, and my eyes swollen. I must have been out of it for a while, in a zone of deep thought and self doubt, because suddenly, I feel him. With no warning.

I feel his chest nearly touching my back, the heat radiating off his skin enough to already feel it. His breath is hitting my neck, chills running up my spine and down to the tips of my fingers. His soft hands roam my waist, dancing along the clothed parts of me. The knuckles of my fingers curl against the table. His hands run up my back, gliding against my shoulders and running down my arms, his fingertips on top of mine. 

He leans in, his lips pressing against my shoulder bone. He moans softly, detaching his lips only to kiss my skin again. But suddenly, I can’t feel him anymore, and I almost start to think he left me once again, back to the feeling of lonesome. But his hands reattach to my hips, and his lips meet my shoulder again.

“Marry me.” He whispers, his breath lingering on my skin.

My breath gets caught in my throat, my heart stopping at his words. I forget how to breathe, my lungs collapsing with his words.

He keeps his lips where they are, waiting for me to say something, anything. But I can’t, everything is caught in my throat.

“Please,” he breathes out, “baby girl.”

I let out my held breath, my shoulders slumping forward.

He kisses my shoulders again, almost desperately, just to get me to say something.

“I was waiting until I asked you. You know my reputation, I didn’t want you to think I was only in this relationship so that you can open your legs for me. I just wanted you to understand that I’m in this for you, just for you, not for anything else.”

I turn to look at him, his green eyes glistening with tears. He’s biting on his lip, his hands shaking against my waist. He sighs, bottom lip trembling between his teeth. 

“I’m sorry I put you through this. I didn’t know.” He cries, fingers petting my cheek. “But please, marry me.”

I place my hand on his wrist, making sure his touch didn’t leave me. I have never seen him so vulnerable, where he looks like a single word can destroy his whole world. But he’s never looked so beautiful.

“You don’t have to ask me, Harry, if you don’t want to. I wasn’t asking for that much.”

He shakes his head, looking almost heartbroken that I haven’t said yes.

“But I want to, I want to spend everyday with you. I already have the ring, I’ve had it for weeks. I was waiting until I showed you how serious I was about you so that you didn’t think sex was all I wanted. My reputation it—it’s fucked up. It’s not me, it’s not who I am and I didn’t want you to think I—“

Before he could finish, I lean in so I can kiss him. I make sure he can feel the compassion I hold for him, the flames of fire that burn my skin whenever he touches me. His fingertips press against my skin, sure to leave marks tomorrow morning. 

“Why’d you wait so long, my H?” I mumble, “I wouldn’t want to spend my life with anybody else.“

My nails dig into his skin, tracing the outlines of his tattoos. I rub occasionally on his chest, palms running along his skin. This is the closest I’ve ever been to him, emotionally. I feel like he’s with me now, fully there, not half gone. 

“I love you so, so much, baby girl,” he whispers, head lulling back the more pressure I puncture into his skin, “and I think it’s time I show you how much I do.”

Broken

Title: Broken - If It Can Bleed Part One

Characters/Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader (next part), Sam, Cas (one line, though he’s not seen.)

Word Count: 2300

Warnings: Blood, reader is badly injured, implied violence, maybe a swear word or two.

Series Summary: The reader is a genetically enhanced assassin who’s on the run from her creator, but what will happen when she get’s taken back to the bunker by Sam and Dean? Or falls for one of the Winchesters…

Author’s Note: Okay guys, this is part one of that assassin story I told you about! I’m not 100% sure how long it will be at this point but right now my guess is around 7 parts, not too long, not too short, and I hope you guys are as excited about it as I am! If you want to get tagged in the following parts of this please send me an Ask or add yourself to This List. Feedback is always appreciated, and enjoy!

If you would like to read any of my other fics please check out my Masterlist!

*Gif is not mine, all gifs used on my blog are from Google Images.*

     Light streamed in the in through the glass your cheek was currently pressed against, stinging your eyes in the seconds you managed to keep them from falling shut again and warming your sticky, blood-covered skin. It took you all of one shuttering, raw breath to remember what had happened - the fists and claws, the panic and pain. They’d found you.

     Recognition surged through your thoughts as your heightened sense of hearing picked up on the powerful engine of the vehicle you were in, speeding down the road surely faster than what was legal. You were being taken somewhere - you were being taken back to her. No. You couldn’t allow that, you couldn’t go back.

     Not now, not ever.

     You didn’t have time to formulate a solid plan, didn’t even stop to think about the extent of your injuries and whether or not you were even capable of executing one, and flew solely on fear and the guttural need to get away from the people holding you captive. So with what sorry bit of strength you had left you fumbled for the seatbelt pressing in on your slashed chest, curled your hand under the seat to let your claws discreetly slid free, and then –

     “How much longer ‘till we get to the hospital?”

     You paused at the unfamiliar voice.

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