she said come back my heart

First [12]

First

All Rights Reserved

© 2014 Katarina Jones

~*~

“W-what?” Lara stuttered out a moan as his fingers found their way into her mound. She let her head fall backwards as he wiggled another finger in and then pulled it out.

Lucas smirked at her expression and rubbed the tip of his finger against her throbbing clȋt. “You belong to me now, little sister.”

“Mm,” she nodded, biting her bottom lip as he continued teasing her, “yours.”

“Now that you’re mine,” he whispered huskily, “you’re going to have to follow my rules.” Lara nodded, completely lost in her pleasure, “No one is going to touch you the way I touch you, understood?”

Her grip on his shoulder tightened as he slammed his fingers into her with every syllable of the sentence. “No one will touch what’s mine, do you understand, Lara?”

“Yes,” she moaned, “oh shit, yes.”

The sexual beast inside of him took complete control. He was no longer her brother; he was her sexual partner. “Yes, what?”

With each thrust of his fingers, Lara arched her back, unable to keep her pleasured moans hidden. “Oh god yes! I’m yours! No one will touch what’s yours!”

“Good,” he grinned, slowly rubbing her folds and then huskily whispered, “I don’t want anyone else to see this püssy either, do you understand me? This is mine and I get to do whatever the fuck I want with it, yes?”

“Mm,” Lara nodded quickly, gasping as her orgasm came closer. “Whatever…you…want.”

“That’s nice,” he whispered, rubbing her clȋt faster, “does this feel good?” She nodded unable to actually speak to him and he chuckled, “Now that you’re mine,” he sucked her hard nub into his mouth, making Lara throw her head back as he licked at her breast, “you will not wear any underwear.”

Lara frowned, running her tongue over her bottom lip and groaned, “W-what? Why?”

He smirked, sliding his palm up and down her mound. “Easier access, Zee.”

“O-o-okay,” she shuddered against his arms and groaned quietly, “Luc, my legs hurt…I can’t keep—oh!”

She threw her head back and cried out as her climax arrived, taking complete control of her body as she shuddered in his arms. “Oh god, oh god,” Lara dug her nails in his strong shoulders and bucked her hips against his fingers quickly.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered and kissed her forehead, “I have to go to work in an hour, so I’m going to take a shower.”

Lara frowned. “You work? Since when?”

“Well,” he sat her down, admiring her voluptuous body, “Jackson talked to his boss and I have an interview today. Then we’re going out to watch a fight at his house, so I’ll most likely get home late tonight.”

“That’s fine,” she closed her eyes, trying to come off her sexual high and ran her fingers through her blonde hair, “damn, Luc; that took all of me.”

Lucas chuckled, his sexual beast long gone and he knelt down to help her up. He carried her bride-style up the stairs and left her on her bed, kissing her forehead before going to shower.

Lara closed her eyes, a smile forming on her lips as she realized that her dreams were finally coming true. Her brother was slowly adjusting to the idea of making her his bȋtch. No longer did he see her like a little girl, now she was his lover and she loved every moment of it.

Her phone vibrated on her stomach and she groaned; he had honestly taken most of her energy and she didn’t mind it one bit, but she felt too weak to even answer the phone. It was a call from her best friend: Adrianne.

“Hello?” she yawned into the phone.

“Baby!” Adrianne squealed on the other line, making Lara grin, “How are you?”

“I’m good; just lying down on my bed. You?”

“Just got home. I’m in New York for a couple of days! Can we meet up today?”

Lara bit her bottom lip, as much as she loved her best friend; she didn’t exactly want to leave the house. “Dree, I don’t want to go out today.”

“Fine,” Adrianne huffed, “can I go over to yours, then?”

“Sure,” she shrugged, even though she obviously couldn’t see her, “I don’t mind. Lucas is going out with his friends tonight so we’ll have the house all to ourselves.”

“Ooh,” Adrianne cooed, giggling, “I know what I’m bringing over tonight then! Do you still like Dracula’s wine?”

She laughed, “Hell yeah I do!”

“Awesome! Then I’m bringing that over along with some movies.”

Translation: they were going to be watching pörn. Since they became close friends, they loved watching erotica. They never did anything, just watch it and drink a little, but it was their favourite pastime.

“I’ll be here,” Lara laughed, “okay, bye Dree, I’m really tired. Call me whenever you’ll come, alright?”

“Will do, honey. Bye!” She ended the call.

~*~

Adrianne called around three to tell her that she was going to be at her house at seven. By that time, Lara was watching sappy chick flicks because her brother wasn’t there to keep her company.

Although, she usually would spend most of her time doing something sexual, their morning was amazing enough to surprisingly satisfy her. She hadn’t thought about sex the entire time.

Afore leaving, Lucas gave her a soft kiss and then smirked her way before whispering: “Remember, Zee; no panties.” And then closed the door, leaving her alone with red cheeks.

She could not believe how things were turning out in her favour; it was grandiose. Her sexy step-brother, whom she had been fantasizing about for a long time, was finally going to be her first!

The realization made her giddy.

The time surprisingly went by quickly and before she knew it, her best friend was waltzing in her house like she had lived there her entire life. They hugged tightly, squealing about how much they missed each other tried to catch up on each other’s life.

Adrianne was a gorgeous dark haired American beauty. She was literally stunning and if Lara hadn’t been equally beautiful, she might’ve been jealous. Adrianne had bright green eyes that seemed to hypnotize guys and a body worth starting wars over.

She could’ve been a model if she so desired, but she chose to be a nurse. It was strange for people that didn’t know her. She could’ve been a movie star, yet she chose to help others; it was one of her many admirable qualities.

Out of all of her qualities, her best was persuasion. Adrianne made her spill the beans. Lara told her all about her conquest to get her step-brother to use her body in the most sinful ways. And she made sure to know every detail.

Lara had to even describe Lucas’ body—every single part as if she were filing a report to the police.

By the time they caught up, it was already ten and they were ready to watch their movies. Adrianne always chose them and that night she chose a threesome for them to watch.

Two girls and a guy. The girls were fairly attractive and the guy was alright-looking, but the girls seemed to be more into each other than their opposite sex.

They were both sitting on the floor, with their backs leaning on the end of the bed. The lights were off; giving the room a bit of intimacy and the light from the TV was dim as to not blind them.

“Have you ever kissed a girl?” Adrianne asked quietly, taking a sip of their sweet wine.

Lara shook her head, rolling her eyes as the man tried to talk dirty to the girls. For some reason, Lara only found it attractive when Lucas spoke naughty; no other guy could top the way he spoke. It was as if he knew exactly what she wanted and needed to hear.

Adrianne smiled down at her, her soft lips pulling up in a wicked grin. Lara gulped slowly, feeling completely out of her league. Part of her wanted to say no, but the other part; the part that needed sating urged her to let her friend keep going with her sexual advances.

“Come on, Lara,” she purred, “you honestly have never kissed a girl before?”

She shook her head, turning her head back to pay attention to the erotic movie and shrugged. “It’s never crossed my mind; I like guys.”

Adrianne rolled her eyes. “No shit, Sherlock; I like guys too. But…” she placed her hand on Lara’s soft thigh and softly said, “you’ve never thought about…you know? Experimenting?”

If this was how she made Lucas feel, she needed to apologize. Her cheeks were heated; feeling like they were going to melt off and the quick beats of her heart should’ve been unhealthy. “No, Dree, I’ve never thought about ‘experimenting,’” She gave her friend a friendly laugh, trying to avoid further sexual talk.

But Adrianne wasn’t satisfied with the answer. Maybe it was the bit of alcohol in her system, maybe it was the erotic film playing in front of them or maybe; just maybe she had gone to her house to look for this all along.

She crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes and said, “I call bullshit on that.”

Lara chuckled, shaking her head as she took another swig of the wine bottle next to her and said, “Dree, I honestly have never thought about kissing a girl. Yeah, I can say a girl’s attractive but I’ve never been sexually attracted to them. Now will you stop asking me and let me finish watching this damn pörn?!”

Adrianne laughed, settling next to her and nestled her head on her friend’s shoulder. “I’ve thought about it before,” she whispered quietly, playing with Lara’s soft fingers, “I mean, lesbian pörn turns me on the most. Besides, I bet it’s like kissing a guy. My friend said it’s even better, but I don’t have the guts to go up to a girl and ask her to kiss me.”

Lara stayed silent. She had honestly never thought about it, but the further Adrianne pressed, the more she found her curiosity sparking. What if kissing a girl was as soft as people said? Lesbian pörn was nice to watch, especially the way they did oral sex

A couple of minutes later, the erotic scene ended. Adrianne felt her püssy drenched, but it wasn’t from watching the film. It was from thinking of her best friend’s mouth on hers. She always thought Lara was gorgeous, but seeing her so close to her, with her hands softly caressing her breasts, was such a turn on to Adrianne.

Of course, Lara was completely oblivious; she was too busy thinking of Lucas’ return. She wanted him to please her for all the time he had been gone. Her naked püssy called for attention and after watching the erotic films, not only was her püssy begging to be touched, but it was dripping wet.

“Lara?” Adrianne whispered, turning the TV off.

“Mm?” she responded after taking another swig of alcohol.

Adrianne cleared her throat, sitting in front of her and whispered, “Do you think that I could…you know? Try it with you?”

Her blue eyes slowly widened in confusion. “Try what with me?”

“You know?” Adrianne smiled, shyly, “Kiss you.”

“Like on my mouth?” Lara blurted out, feeling awkward as all hell.

She nodded, watching her best friend with dark eyes. The lights were off and now that the TV was off, she could only see her silhouette thanks to the light coming from the moonlight. It only made the scene more appealing than ever before and Adrianne couldn’t help herself.

“I don’t know, Dree,” she whispered uncomfortably, yet her püssy hummed in anticipation, “won’t that like…what if we don’t like it? Won’t that mess up our friendship?”

Adrianne laughed, her silky brown hair falling behind her shoulders. “Of course not, silly! It’ll be like…you’re helping me with something. I want to try it out and you’ll help me. I don’t trust anyone else; I feel like they’ll just laugh. But you’re my closest friend; I can trust you.”

After seconds of consideration, Lara sighed, caving in. “Fine…”

“Yay,” she giggled, sitting forward. Adrianne placed both of her hands against the bed on either side of Lara’s face, and took a deep breath as she leaned into her best friend.

Lara gulped, staring intently as Adrianne closed her glistening green eyes and inched closer to her face. She kept her eyes open, watching her every move until they began to cross. The kiss was a featherlike touch; simple and sweet.

But Adrianne wanted more.

She slowly opened her mouth, taking Lara’s bottom lip into hers and swiped her tongue across it softly. Lara’s eyes snapped open, staring at her best friend in disbelief as she continued to urge forward and found herself giving in.

Lara parted her mouth, allowing Adrianne to suck on her tongue sensually and kiss her sweetly. The kisses were nothing compared to what Lucas did to her, but it was still pretty damned amazing.

Adrianne shifted, moving so that Lara’s legs were in between hers and she pulled her closer, entwining her fingers in her soft blond hair. She tugged on her lip, eliciting a moan from Lara and slowly moved her hands up to her breasts.

The sudden touch made Lara pull away abruptly. She was flushed with embarrassment and excitement, but she tried to control her breathing and whispered, “I thought you just wanted to kiss me.”

“I did,” Adrianne admitted sheepishly, “but…I don’t know! It just,” she ran her fingers through her hair, still sitting above Lara and eyed her red lips, “I’m just so damn horny and you smell so good.”

Lara blinked slowly, trying to wrap her mind around everything that was happening and whispered, “But…we like guys.” She sounded like she was trying to convince her to stop making moves on her, but her eyes told a different story.

They both wanted release.

“Babe,” Adrianne ran her fingers down Lara’s face gently, tucking back a strand of blonde hair, “we’re best friends; we help each other. There are no guys here and I don’t know about you, but I sure as hell can’t wait for some dumbass to get here and fuck me senseless.”

Slowly, Lara nodded, liking the idea more and more. The reality of the situation was that her head was clouded with alcohol and the lust was driving her mad. Whatever they did would stay behind closed doors, no one needed to know what they were going to do.

“W-what,” she stuttered and blushed embarrassingly, “what do we do?”

Dree shrugged, “I don’t know,” she let out a giggle, “what those girls do in pörn.” She scooted closer, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth and began brushing her lips down her collarbone, “I can…kiss you,” she began running her fingers down her thighs, “touch you,” Adrianne suckled gently on her neck, “Whatever I’ll do to you; you can be guaranteed that it’ll feel good.”

“Okay,” Lara nodded, “what do I do to you?”

She shook her head in response, her voice deepening with desire. “Nothing; just letting me touch you is enough. I promise.”

Lara nodded again, taking a deep breath and closed her eyes as Adrianne leaned forward and kissed her again. Their hearts thudded quickly as their kiss deepened. Adrianne tilted her head, biting Lara’s lips teasingly as her hand lowered to her treasure.

She widened her eyes slightly, as her fingers came into contact with Lara’s bare püssy. Then a devious smirk grew on her lips and she pulled away from her lips, to kiss her jawline. “Mm,” her sultry voice whispered, “someone’s eager; why don’t you have any panties on, honey?”

Lara gasped at the electric sensation that buzzed throughout her once Adrianne parted her püssy lips and breathlessly said, “Lucas…he said…not to wear…oh…them.”

Adrianne’s grin widened as she suckled on her friend’s earlobe, rubbing her slȋt a bit faster. “Oh what a naughty little boy he is…and you too, baby. Walking around the house with no underwear; going all commando.”

She nodded, closing her eyes as Adrianne soaked her index finger with her juices, just teasing. “But you know what turns me on the most?”

“W-what?” Lara gasped.

Slowly, Adrianne slid her finger inside her heat, earning quick moans and whispered, “That you actually listened; you submitted to him. That is so hot, baby. God, the way you described his cȯck earlier got me all wet. Can you imagine how good it would feel, if instead of my fingers inside your tight little püssy, you had Lucas’ fat big cȯck?”

“Shit,” Lara moaned, arching her back away from the end of the bed and widened her legs. “Goddamn, how I want him.”

She stopped pumping her fingers once she felt Lara’s hymen; she didn’t want her fingers to be the cause of her lost virginity. That was strictly for Lucas and Adrianne knew how important that was for Lara.

“I know, baby,” Adrianne whispered quickening her handy work, “I know how much you want him. I can feel it; your püssy’s so wet. I’m actually surprised you haven’t cummed.”

“Mm,” was Lara’s groaned reply. She somehow managed to slip her oversized t-shirt off and arched her back closer to the girl.

“Lara?” She whispered softly, her lips brushing against her earlobe. “Can I taste it? Can I taste your tight little püssy?” Lara widened her eyes unable to respond and Adrianne kept speaking as if she were in a trance, “It’s just so wet and it smells so good; I’ve never tasted one either. So will you let me?”

With every plead, Adrianne hardened her touch on Lara’s clȋt, making sure to get her point across. “Will you let me shove my tongue deep inside you and suck your püssy dry?”

“Yes,” Lara moaned, “oh shit; go ahead, Dree, you can eat me out.”

“Mm,” Adrianne smiled sexually, “just what I wanted to hear.” She bowed, taking Lara’s hard nipples in her mouth and stimulated them each until they were hard enough to burst. She kept rubbing her fingers in Lara’s wet cünt as she lowered her mouth closer to her treasure.

Lara’s body ached with hunger; she needed Adrianne’s mouth against her cünt and she needed them soon. Otherwise she was going to die from all of the lust going through her. It surprised her how shy Adrianne had started and now she was smirking down at her bare püssy lips.

“They’re so soft,” she murmured, “and you have no hair. I love looking at shaved püssies and yours is the best, baby.”

A nervous giggle escaped Lara’s lips as Adrianne propped herself on her elbows and slowly parted her slȋt apart. She breathed in deeply, the air tickling Lara as it escaped her body and she mumbled, “Goddamn, you smell so good; like pineapples and wine.”

Lara looked down, biting her bottom lip as Adrianne gazed at her treasure hungrily and then gasped as she rubbed her nose along, simply savouring her scent.

“That feels so good,” she moaned.

Adrianne smirked, “Yeah,” Lara nodded in response, unable to speak. “Well,” she grinned deviously leaning in closer to her püssy, “imagine how good you’ll feel when I lick you clean.”

“Oh god, Dree; stop talking and actually do it!”

At her desperation, Adrianne giggled and finally caved in. She darted her tongue out and licked her slȋt all the way up to her clȋt. Lara gasped, widening her legs and squeezed her breasts.

Adrianne suckled her püssy hungrily, feeling unbelievably voracious for her best friend’s cünt. She couldn’t believe how one moment they were talking about how good it must’ve felt to feel Lucas’ cȯck , to the next sucking her friend’s mound.

“Shit,” Lara moaned, bucking her hips slowly as Adrianne slowly teased her cünt, sucking on her püssy lips as she avoided her clȋt at all cost. “Damn, fuck, that feels so fucking good, Dree; we should’ve done this a long time ago—oh!”

Adrianne chuckled lowly, enjoying her friend’s reaction as she began to suckle her little clȋt into her mouth. It slowly grew, getting harder with all the stimulation it received and Lara cried out, biting down unto her finger.

She looked up at her friend, smiling as she drank her püssy juices as if they were water and then moaned at the expression on Lara’s face. “Damn, baby,” she breathed, making Lara moan at the cold gush of air on her exposed heat, “you look so hot doing that.”

Lara gave a small giggle, quickly moaning once Adrianne continued her assault on her lower lips and ran her fingers through her hair, arching her back in pleasure. “Damn, Dree I wish you had a cȯck so you could fuck me right now.”

“Mm,” Adrianne grinned, grazing her teeth on her folds, “I’d fuck you so hard.”

“A cȯck like Lucas’; so big and meaty. Ugh, I want him to fuck me so hard, I want him to take all of me,” she gasped as if in a trance.

Adrianne slipped her finger in Lara’s cünt, grinning up at her and whispered, “You’re so naughty; Lucas will have to punish you tomorrow. Look at me, baby.” Lara tried looking down, but the pleasure was overbearing, making it hard to abide to her request.

“Tell me what I’m doing,” Adrianne whispered huskily.

Lara gasped; groaning once Adrianne slid her tongue as far as her püssy would let her. “Y-you’re fucking…my p-püssy with your…tongue.”

“Yeah,” Adrianne nodded, bobbing her head up and down as she slid her flat tongue on her entire mound, “and what am I?” Lara frowned. “Like what’s my gender?”

She didn’t understand what she was trying to get at, but she still tried to answer her. “Y-you’re a girl…”

Again, Adrianne nodded, practically making out with her püssy and then whispered, “A girl’s eating your püssy, baby. How do you feel? Do you like it? Do you like me sucking on your tightly little püssy?”

“Mm,” Lara nodded, the familiar clenching in her stomach made her gasp and blurt out words that held no meaning to her emotionally, “I love that you’re sucking my tight little püssy; it feels so good.”

“You’re so bad,” she giggled, pressing a soft kiss to her slȋt and then suckled on it hungrily once Lara’s climax began to break through. It felt like electricity was rushing all throughout her body; she couldn’t stop it. It was glorious.

She came loud and hard, panting for air as sweat dripped down her face and moaned, shoving Adrianne’s face into her cünt to prolong the amazing feeling.

Both of them so into their sexual desires, that they didn’t notice their one-man audience; Lucas.

He had been standing there long enough to hear his step-sister cry out how she liked what her friend was doing and the anger coursing through his body was wild. He was jealous as all hell; that treasure was his.

Lucas clenched his jaw, along with his fists at the sight before him. Most males would’ve been thrilled about having two gorgeous girls touching each other; but he wasn’t most males. Lara was his—and he was not fond of anyone touching what was his.

~*~

All the gifs that I have used so far are not mine. Look at the watermark and if you like it, y'all should follow the owners. This is the last chapter I’m posting today. Hope y'all enjoyed so far.

“Why do you love me?”

“Because I have no choice.” He said with a sigh

Her wry smile turned to a frown as she frantically attempted to let go of his hand.

He calmly pat her in the head before continuing…

“Like how the rain helplessly falls to kiss the earth. How the waves can’t resist coming back to hug the shore. I have no choice, it is my very nature to love you.

My mind filled with holes so it drowns oh so easily in the depths of your eyes. My heart molded like a flute so it always sings your name. My soul hollowed out so it would always seek you as if you’re the only thing in this world that can fill it. I have no choice when every inch of my being is drawn to your perfections.”

He glanced at her birth mark and smiled, “and to your imperfections.”

“Because love” he held her chin and slowly leaned forward “the first time my lips pressed on yours I decided there will never be a better choice”.

—  kfroy 
*watches entire kdrama within a day*

*googles lead and second lead and entire cast*

*searches for hashtag of said drama on tumblr*

*reblogs favorite moments for the rest of the life*

*watches every drama of pretty flower boy lead*

*repeats*

Marichat Day 14: Aged-Up Chat Noir

“Marinette, stay behind me,” Chat Noir warned, keeping one arm thrown back behind him in her direction.

Older Chat leaned against the balcony railing, arms crossed and an amused expression on his face. “This really isn’t necessary. I’m literally you.”

Marinette peeked around Chat Noir’s back to study the older man. “Why are you here?”

“To see you, of course, Princess,” he winked. Chat Noir growled and the older man laughed, waving a hand. “Paon is learning how to use his powers of time travel. I’m the guinea pig. Don’t worry, my Lady will have me back in her arms  within an hour or so.”

“How do you know?” Marinette bypassed Chat Noir’s outstretched arm to his exasperated huff. 

Older Chat smiled at her. “Because it’s already happened for me.” He tilted his head in his younger version’s direction. “I remember it.”

Chat Noir furrowed his brow. “Why come here though? Why visit Marinette?”

“She knows why.” Older Chat gave her a knowing look. 

Marinette’s eyes widened and she blushed. Chat Noir looked at her incredulously. “What does that mean?!”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I think it’s okay. Do you mind if I talk to him alone?”

“What?!” he sputtered. “No. Absolutely not!”

“He’s you, kitty. There’s no one I trust more.” She cupped his cheek and smiled. “You can sit on my bed so you can still see us through the skylight.”

Chat Noir pushed out his bottom lip. “Fine, but I’m coming back up in five minutes no matter what.” He glared at his future self before dropping down through the skylight.

“I forgot how stubborn I could be,” Older Chat remarked, giving himself a finger wave.

“You know who I am,” Marinette said softly, stepping closer to him.

“You’re my Lady,” he whispered back. “I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see you like this again.”

“Like this?”

“Softer.”

“I don’t understand,” she confessed.

“I wouldn’t expect you to. Just know it does me good to see you like this…to see you with him.”

“Do I tell you…him…” she shook her head. “Am I the one who tells Chat who I am first?”

Older Chat pursed his lips. “I really shouldn’t say anything. You warned me not mess anything up when I came back…”

“Can’t you give me one itty bitty hint, kitty?” she begged with a pleading smile.

Older Chat put a hand to his heart. “Low blow, my Lady. You know I can’t say no to you.”

“My Lady? D-did you just call her…” Marinette spun to see Chat Noir’s head poking out of the skylight. “Marinette?”

Marinette looked at Older Chat in terror. He winked. “You bast–”

A glowing blue light erupted from behind Older Chat, cutting off Marinette. “Come on, love. It’s time to come back home,” a familar voice said as a slender arm reached through the blue light. 

Older Chat kissed the hand reaching for him and turned back to the young pair. “See you in a few years, my Lady,” he said with a grin to Marinette. “Enjoy tonight, Adrien,” he finished with a wink before disappearing into the blue light.

Marinette spun on Chat Noir. “Adrien?!” 

Confession - Peter Parker

request -  hey! I love your blog and the writing’s are great and super fluffy and so cute AHHH. Could you please write a fic in which peter and the reader have been friends for a long time and when they finally go to Liz;s party peter confesses his feelings for the reader and could you make it super fluffy? THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR RUNNING THIS BLOG!

a/n - i’m so sorry if this fic seems rushed i went back and forth so many times with different ideas and hopefully it turned out okay :) thank you so much for all the love, don’t forget to request a peter parker/spider-man fic if you’d like!

The bass of the speakers boomed around the house as I poured some soda for Michelle and I. The continuous chatter of teenagers was the only sound I could hear from the music, almost running around the kitchen to collect snacks. I gathered a plate and was ready to share with Michelle, but she seemed to have a piece of toast in her hand, spreading butter on it.

“Where’d you find that?” I asked, eating a pretzel.

“Second cabinet from the left.” She answered, turning to me. “Want a bite?”

“No thanks.” I took a step back, chuckling. She shrugged and continued to eat the bread, taking a sip of her soda. We both continued to talk with one another until we heard Flash’s voice echo off the walls.

“When I say Penis, you say Parker!” He yelled into the microphone, attempting to start the mediocre chant that got really old after five minutes. But, in an unfortunate way, it let me know that Peter arrived. I headed to the door to look for him, catching him in a heartbeat.

Keep reading

The Pawns And The Kings

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Originally posted by bangtanbtsmut



Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Smut

Plot: The reader is kidnapped, left alone in utter darkness. Once the day of her auctioning comes, she’s given to the head of one of the worlds most powerful gangs, Jungkook. She was nothing but a gift to him. But her little soul turns out to have the power to turn the tides in the worlds angriest ocean. And it turns out, Jungkook isn’t the only man whom eyes have settled upon her.

Keep reading

Monsters

Requested: Please do some daddy Shawn.

A/N: I don’t know why I try writing fluffy things, because they’re awful most times. I also changed the lyrics of LOFP a little, sorry.

Word count: 2,066

A faint noise rang in my ears, but not nearly loud enough to pulled me out of my heavy sleep. Only seconds later, I felt the faint squeezes on my arms. When I finally managed to open them, the room was too dark for me to see anything properly.

I rubbed my sleepy eyes, feeling just how sore they were. I blinked a few times, before finally being able to see shadows in the dark bedroom.

“Daddy, daddy” she cried again, forcing down my gaze.

Keep reading

marino-kun  asked:

Do you take prompt? What about Stiles having a secret crush on Derek but when saw him, taking care Scott's son, he fell in love.

I’m not much of a kid fic person, so this took me a while, but I tried. Hopefully it’s kind of what you were angling for!

*

“Do you think I’m ready for fatherhood?” Stiles asks, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. He’s not freaking out about this. He’s not.

Boyd says flatly, “Stilinski, you’re twenty-one years old. You’re supposed to know how to use a condom by now.“

Stiles’ hand spasms and he accidentally squirts a huge glob of ketchup on his mound of curly fries. Fuck. He has the ideal ketchup-to-curly-fry ratio down to a science, and this is not it. “No, absolutely not what I meant. It’s just. Did you know Derek had a kid?”

Boyd meditatively takes a bite of his burger. “No. But the nice thing about Derek is that he doesn’t go in for personal talk.”

Stiles shoots him a weird look. Of course Boyd would think that was nice. Stiles, though, has been trying to break down Derek’s walls even just a little bit for months now—sitting with him in class, sharing his notes, studying with him in the library and getting late-night waffles together afterwards, little by little pulling Derek out of his shell. He’d thought he was getting somewhere, but obviously not, not if Derek failed to mention this kid even existed.

Which he does. Stiles knows, because he can see him right now, over by Prof. Martin’s pool. Apparently his name is Jamie.

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sourcatsmiles  asked:

"You love me, right?" For Ladynoir

It was not the way he expected it to go down. Which, honestly, was rather impressive because in the past two years of their partnership Chat Noir must have plotted out at least 50 different possible scenarios in which he finally heard the coveted words. 

They had been joking around, legs swinging off the edge of of the parapet and laughing, enjoying the warm breeze. 

“Come on, you can’t tell me that your birthday is this week and not let me get you a present,” Chat whined, “what sort of partner would I be.” 

“The last thing I need for my birthday is a dead rat on my doorstep,” Ladybug teased as she once again failed to do a Jacob’s ladder with her Yo-yo. She scowled down at her weapon and Chat had to bite back a laugh. There was something incredibly endearing about the fact that for all the truly amazing things she had done with the magical item, she couldn’t seem to get the hang of a simple trick. 

“Ah, but you know that I won’t be giving you that, because I don’t know where your doorway is,” Chat grinned, “so your argument against my giving you a gift is invalid.” 

She rolled her eyes, but he could see her fighting back a smile. 

“Come on,” he whispered, dropping his chin onto her shoulder, “I’ll get you anything you want.” 

“Anything?” she asked, twisting her head to look at him and causing their noses to brush together. 

“Cross my heart and swear not to die, because I already promised you I wouldn’t after what happened last month.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twisting into the disapproving pout that had become one of his favorite expressions. Not that he had a lack of those where she was concerned. Still, this particular look of fond annoyance was easily in the top 20. 

“Please?” he cajoled, stretching out the vowels like a hopeful child asking for a new toy. 

She looked away and Chat smiled. If she couldn’t meet his eyes it meant she was caving. 

“If Mayor Bourgeois is allowed to give you a statue, the least I should be allowed to do is get you a birthday present,” he whispered, trying not to fist pump as he saw her bite her lower lip. Victory was almost assured at this point. “Please?” he said again. 

“Anything?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Anything,” he assured her in the same quiet voice while internally he screamed in triumph. In fact he would probably be annoying Plagg later with his obligatory victory dance. 

Ladybug said nothing, continuing to stare out into the night, but Chat had learned patience was the key to these sorts of moods, so he simply waited, his head continuing to lull against her shoulder. 

“Chat?”

“Yes My Lady?”

“You love me right?” 

He felt his breath catch in his throat. He knew she didn’t mean it the way he wanted her to. It was a friendly statement, a joking lead-in to a request that usually meant she was insecure about something. It wasn’t the first time she had said it, but he still couldn’t help but be affected by the words. 

“Of course, to the end of my nine lives and beyond,” he said, his tone light despite the rapid pounding of his heart. 

“And you won’t make fun of me?” she said, with just enough of a tremor in her voice to belie her playful smile. 

“Never. Cat’s honor.” 

She took a deep breath and reached her hand up to pull at the collar of her suit. 

“What are you doing?” Chat squawked his face turning beet red as her fingers slide beneath the fabric and down towards her collar bone. 

She gave him a bemused smirk as she pulled out a carefully folded note, much to Chat’s simultaneous relief and dismay. 

“Never figured you for a prude,” she said tapping him on the nose with the paper. 

“What is so important that you felt the need to carry it around under your suit?” he grumbled, then instantly regretted his outburst when her shoulders hunched slightly. “Is it a picture of me? Admit it you pull it out to stare at it when I am not around.” He gave her his most salacious smirk and she gave him a playful shove, the momentary flash of doubt replaced with amusement. He mentally high fived himself on the nice save. Another thing to brag to Plagg about when they got home. 

“No. It’s a letter.” 

“I assume you are either going to elaborate, or you have decided to pursue a lifelong dream of becoming the world’s greatest calligrapher.” 

“What?”

“Never mind, you never did appreciate my sense of humor.” 

“It’s a letter for my crush.” 

His heart sank. 

“It’s stupid,” she said hurriedly, “it’s not even signed. I don’t know what is wrong with me that I can’t even bring myself to give him an anonymous love letter. I stupidly thought that maybe I would get lucky and could run in to him as Ladybug and maybe then I could…” she trailed off with a miserable laugh that broke his heart far worse than her infatuation with someone else. 

“My Lady-” 

“It’s horrible,” she cried, scooting back just enough so that she could look at him, “seriously, you have no idea how pathetic I have been.” 

“Come on it can’t be that bad.”

“For months I couldn’t even speak a complete sentence in front of him,” she wailed, “much less tell him how I feel!” 

“That’s totally normal.” 

“Oh, it get’s better. Because I wasn’t just content to make a fool of myself. No then I compensated by getting worse! My room is plastered with pictures of him. I have one framed on my nightstand!” 

“You are hardly the first person alive to go overboard about a crush,” Chat said thinking of his own hoard of fangirls that had only increased as he edged closer to adulthood.” 

“I wrote down his schedule on my calendar. In detail! Every time I learned something new, up it would go in big swirly cursive with little hearts and everything.” 

“OK, that’s admittedly a little weirder,” Chat winced, although he was somewhat amused at the image of her dotting little hearts all over the place, “still it could be-” 

“I stole his phone!”

“OK yeah, you’re crazy.”

“I told you. Instead of just confessing to him like a normal person I turned into,” she gestured helplessly at herself, “this.” 

“But at least you admit it,” he said kindly. “and if need be I can get you the name of an excellent therapist.” 

She gave him a weak smile, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a gentle hug. 

“I thought if I could just give him this letter, even if he didn’t know it was from me, then I could… I donnow, not move on exactly but, get better, maybe?” 

She fiddled with the piece of paper in her hand and somehow, seeing her like this- relaxed and vulnerable, and just a little bit insane- made him love her even more. 

Maybe they would never amount to anything. Maybe she would end up with this mystery crush, or the next one. But in that moment Chat knew that he would never regret loving this girl. He would be happy to stay by her side in whatever way she needed him. That would be enough. 

“Do you want me to give it to him for you?” he asked, any regret he might have felt vanishing at the hopeful look that sprang to her eyes. 

“Would you?” 

“Of course Bugaboo. Although, if this turns into some sort of wacky rom-com where he thinks that I am the secret admirer and starts chasing after my dazzling good looks and unparalleled charm, you are not allowed to make it my fault.” 

“Ok,” she laughed, leaning her head back against his shoulder with a sigh that he could swear reverberated in his very soul. 

“So who am I delivering this to anyways?” he asked a little shakily carefully plucking the letter from her and slipping into into the pocket of his suit. “Who is this dashing rogue who has turned you into a literal lovesick schoolgirl?” 

“Adrien Agreste,” she confessed with a blush. “I’m in love with Adrien Agreste.” 

It was definitely not how he had expected things to go down. Never in a million years would he have dreamed up this scenario when he finally heard the coveted words- his name on her tongue, her voice saying that she loved him, HIM, of all people. 

It was not what he expected- but damn if it still wasn’t the greatest moment in his life. 



Look who’s back to her 4 word prompts! On to the next one! (Not taking any new ones just finishing up the ones I have.

and i’ll ask for the sea

Pairing: Jon Snow x Daenerys Targaryen
Summary: The morning after boatsex. (Can be read as a follow-up to this drabble.) Written for Jonerys Week, Day 5: Smut.
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 6,079 (yikes sorry)


A soft knock on the cabin door roused Jon from a surprisingly restful sleep. He remembered where he was when the weight compressing his chest lightened as Daenerys lifted her head, also awakened by the sound. Even half-asleep, Jon’s battle instincts stirred, honed by too many nights of sleep sacrificed while on watch, wary of an ambush. He shifted underneath her, ready to lunge off the bed for his clothes and a sword that wasn’t there, but he stilled at the touch of her fingers on his shoulder. Stay, they said.

“Come back later,” the queen called to her visitor. Her voice was thick with sleep and honeyed by an easy contentment he’d never heard from her before.

A moment passed, then, “Of course, your grace.”

Missandei. Was that laughter he heard in the Naathi woman’s voice? Jon told himself he was being paranoid. Still, he only relaxed down into the featherbed when it became apparent that Missandei wasn’t going to enter—and that Daenerys had no intention of moving, either.

Without looking at him, she laid her head down on his chest, where it’d been resting all night, apparently. Jon remembered holding her against him, just like this, after they’d lain together. Their light, aimless conversation—for once not fraught with talk of politics and battle strategy and the dead—had waned at some point in the night, and they must have drifted off to sleep. He was warm beneath her, the two of them cocooned in silk sheets and fur.

Actually, he was sweltering. Her bare skin was sticky-hot everywhere it touched his. For Jon, someone used to the frigid nights of the North, he couldn’t recall a single morning during his time on the Night’s Watch where he hadn’t awoken with limbs nearly frozen stiff. Only on the nights he’d curled up with Ghost had he’d been close to this warm, and even then, the direwolf’s body heat didn’t compare to the warmth radiating from Daenerys now.

How hot did the Dragon Queen’s blood run, he wondered.

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Summary: Sansa is sent as an emissary instead of Jon to meet with the Dragon Queen [Season 7 Spoilers - some of the dialogue is word for word from the script]

Dedicated to the lovely @qinaliel for the prompt!! 


“Then send an emissary!”

Jon paused, turned towards her and sighed. In the few short months since they’d been reunited, Sansa had come to learn his sigh’s and this one said that she had won. He was finally beginning to listen to her.

“Sansa,” he said slowly, coming to stand before her. They had been arguing in his solar for most of the afternoon. “Who will I send? You?”

Without hesitation, she nodded. “Yes.” She didn’t want to leave Winterfell, not after everything they’d done to get it back, but for Jon? For their home? She would face down Cersei if she had to. What was a Dragon Queen to that woman?

Immediately, Jon shook his head, stepping closer, until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “No. No. I will not send you. She is a queen, only a king can get through to her.”

“You are more needed here than I am,” Sansa said. She reached for his wrist, circling her fingers delicately around it. “Jon, let me do this for you. I know women like her. And I am not merely anybody you’re sending. I am the Lady of Winterfell. She will listen to me.”

He twisted his hand from her grasp only to retrieve it back in his own. “I can’t protect you in the south.”

“No one can protect me anywhere,” she reminded him. “I will have Brienne with me. And Podrick. I will not be alone.”

Jon furrowed his brows. They both knew there was sense in her words, but she could see the struggle, the conflict warring in his mind. He was so noble, always so honourable, and it made her heart ache for him, fear and love mingling like the warmth of her breath fogging in the cold winter air.

He turned away from her, dropping down in his chair. Jon rubbed his face. “How can I plan a war when all I’ll be doing is worrying about you?”

Sansa let out a soft breath, a half-hearted laugh, as she came to kneel before him. “If it is any comfort to you, at least I will be far away from Littlefinger.”

His head snapped up at that and a small rueful smile broke over his face. “You heard then?”

“There is not much that happens in Winterfell that I don’t hear, Jon Snow,” Sansa grinned. “Although if you must wring Littlefinger’s neck, try not to do it in full view of the guards. You know they like to talk.”

He laughed. “I appreciate your counsel, my lady.”

Sansa made to stand up, but this time, Jon wrapped his hand around her wrist, the hard callouses grazing over her soft skin. It made her heartbeat spike unbiddenly. “You will be careful, won’t you? You will go, say our peace and come home?”

“I don’t want to be away from Winterfell more than I need to,” Sansa answered him, keeping his gaze, so he knew the words she didn’t wish to say out loud, that it was him she didn’t want to part with most.

Jon nodded once and let go. “Get some sleep, Sansa.”

That night, she tossed and turned, dreams of Winterfell lit on fire, blazing orange and red against the blinding white of winter. She dreamed of dragons screeching overhead as her people screamed for mercy, for reprieve from this slaughter, and then, just as she could feel the flames licking her own skin, she heard the keening howl of a wolf, as big as a mountain.

Jon, she whispered, reaching for him. Jon

Sansa woke with a start, sweat matting her hair to her forehead. She was warm, so much warmer than she had been in the night, but when she turned, she found the reason for the heat. Ghost lifted his head, blinked at her, something like concern shining in his eyes. She carded her fingers through his fur and pressed a soft kiss to his head. “You came to save me, didn’t you, boy?” His tongue lolled out from his mouth and Sansa laughed. “My hero.”

It was the day she would leave Winterfell. Sansa never thought that she would have to again after winning it back from Ramsay, but soon when the winds burned like fire and the sun refused to shine, her people, her Jon, would have to pick up their swords and fight, and Sansa needed to ensure they survived the Long Night. If this Dragon Queen could be reasoned with, then she would go and speak to her. Never mind that a Targaryen could never be trusted; never mind that this woman had stolen into their lands with a foreign army and three dragons. Sansa could understand the necessity of her alliance – although the feeling of trepidation did not ease, not when she broke fast sitting beside Jon as he watched her carefully and not when she sat with her maids to pack her belongings.

“I thought I would find you here.”

She didn’t turn, only wrapped her arms tighter around her body. He came up behind her. She could hear the crunching of his boots on the soft powdered ground.

“You don’t have to go.”

Sansa made a noise and he sighed in response.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he amended instead, his voice low, barely audible above the whistling wind. “Some days I think…” Jon paused and gave a soft chuckle. “I think, what if we had just run? Gone south and never looked back.”

“This is our home,” she murmured to him.

“Aye, and I will fight with my last breath for it,” he said firmly. “But maybe it keeps me sane to imagine what our lives would be like if we had run.”

Sansa turned then, eyes sweeping over his face. “And?”

“We would have a house,” Jon answered immediately. “Maybe by the sea.” He averted his gaze, staring up at the heart tree. “We’d be safe.”

She reached for his hand. “I’ll come home.”

“Promise me,” he said softly, squeezing her back.

“I promise, Jon.”

But promises were meant to be broken and Sansa would soon realise that the Dragon Queen would not be so easy to persuade.

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains,” the woman spoke.

Sansa refrained from grimacing. She had met another once who liked to shout his titles at anyone who would listen and he had been a monster. She desperately hoped this Daenerys was different.

“This is Sansa Stark of House Stark, eldest daughter of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, blood of the First Men, Lady of Winterfell and Sister to the King in the North, Jon Snow,” Brienne immediately replied, standing tall and proud, Podrick a step behind her.

“Forgive me. I never did receive a formal education, but I could have sworn the last King in the North was Torren Stark who bent the knee to my ancestor Aegon Targaryen in exchange for his life and the lives of the northmen. Torren Stark swore fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity. But do I have my facts wrong?” Daenerys asked, poison hidden in her polite words, but Sansa had lived with lions. A dragon did not scare her.

“No, your grace,” Sansa answered, keeping her tone equally as polite. “You are well-versed in your history, but mayhaps you have forgotten that House Targaryen was overthrown during Robert’s Rebellion when your brother kidnapped my aunt and your father had my uncle and grandfather burned alive.” She paused to let this sink in. “House Stark has not been loyal to a Targaryen in many years.”

Daenerys’ lips twitched as her brows furrowed infinitesimally. “My father was an evil man. On behalf of House Targaryen I ask your forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family. And I ask you not to judge a daughter by the sins of her father. Our two houses were allies for centuries. Those were the best centuries the kingdom’s ever known. Centuries of peace and prosperity with the Targaryens sitting on the Iron Throne and a Stark serving as Warden of the North. I am the last Targaryen, Sansa Stark. Honour the pledge your ancestor made to mine. Bend the knee and I will name your king Warden of the North. Together we will save this country from those who would destroy it.”

She couldn’t help think that peace was the farthest thing this woman wanted. A Targaryen’s house words were not ‘fire and blood’ for nothing, but she could hear Jon’s voice in her mind, reminding her of how important it was to ally with the Dragon Queen.

“I cannot judge you for your father’s crimes any more than you can hold me to my ancestor’s vows,” Sansa told her. “The North will not bend the knee, your grace.”

“Then why are you here?” Daenerys demanded, the politeness fading from her tone.

“Because we need each other,” she said easily. “To survive, House Stark and House Targaryen must form an alliance.”

The Dragon Queen turned, smirking at Tyrion. When Daenerys finally returned her gaze back onto Sansa, she caught her former husband’s apologetic glance. So it would seem even the Hand of the Queen was aware of her arrogance, but it was hardly surprising to Sansa. Those with power tended to believe they deserved it. The only king or queen Sansa had ever met who wished for less power was the one she had left behind, the one of whom she missed so achingly she would turn around right this moment and swim back to him if the survival of her people didn’t rest in her hands. With an inward sigh, Sansa steeled herself as the Dragon Queen spoke once more.

“Did you see three dragons flying overhead when you arrived?”

“I did.”

“And did you see the Dothraki, all of whom have sworn to kill for me?”

“Yes, your grace.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“But still, I need your help?” Daenerys asked, looking amused and patronising, but Sansa had learned to weather all manners of insult, those personal and evasive, and those from arrogant rulers.

“Yes,” Sansa answered simply. “My…” she paused for a fraction of a second, “king has seen unspeakable horrors beyond the Wall and there is an army marching towards us at this very moment. If we do not band together, there will not be a kingdom for anyone to rule.”

“And what is this army you speak of?”

She sighed. It was impossible to imagine the kind of army that Jon spoke so fearfully of and yet she knew his words to be true. It didn’t, however, make convincing Daenerys Stormborn any easier. “The Army of the Dead.” Sansa straightened her shoulders. “I know how it may sound, but my king is no liar. If he says they are coming then it is true.”

“I have no reason to believe in a man who wishes to oppose me –”

“Jon does not wish to oppose you,” Sansa interjected. “He does not wish to sit on the Iron Throne, not now, not ever. Your grace, you are not grasping the severity of the situation. Cersei is a formidable foe, but the Dead will kill us all if we don’t work together.”

Daenerys let out a scoff. “You will have me place my trust in a man I have never met?”

“Do you trust your Hand?” Sansa asked, looking to Tyrion. “Because he will tell you that neither Jon nor I have any reason to lie to you. Nothing good comes from a Stark leaving the North, but I am here because it is necessary.”

Tyrion sighed. “Your grace, I trust Lady Sansa and I trust Jon Snow. They are honourable people.”

There’s a long pause that fills the room, so tangible Sansa could feel it crowding her, pushing up against the cloak she still wore. Daenerys stood up and began to descend down the stairs, eyes unwaveringly locked onto Sansa’s, but she refused to be intimidated by a woman not much older than her.

“I was born at Dragonstone. Not that I can remember it. We fled before Robert’s assassins could find us. Robert was your father’s best friend, no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib. Not that it matters now of course. I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me. I don’t remember all of their names. I have been sold like a brood mare. I have been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled,” she said, the emotions making her voice rise. It was the first time since they had arrived that Sansa saw something more than just pure arrogance. She saw defiance and strength, but if Daenerys thought she was the only woman to have ever been violated, she was mistaken. Cersei was defiant and she was strong, but she was as bad as the men who underestimated her, if not worse. Sansa won’t be swayed so easily by sad stories; she’s had her fair share.

“Do you know what kept me standing through all those years in exile?” The Dragon Queen paused, only a few feet away from Sansa now. “Faith. Not in any gods. Not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn’t seen a dragon in centuries until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn’t crossed the sea. Any sea. They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms. And I will.”

Brienne shifted behind her, but Sansa was not here to trade trauma for trauma. Her pain was her own and no one else’s, not even Jon knew the full extent of what she had gone through. She didn’t need to sink so low for this alliance, but she did need to get through to Daenerys somehow.

“The world is not a kind place for any woman,” Sansa said slowly, evenly, while observing the queen for a reaction. “For many men, we are no more than a womb for their seed to grow and that is if we’re lucky. But this war cares not if you are a man or a woman, Daenerys Stormborn. It will devour us all if we don’t act.”

“My lady,” Tyrion spoke up, his eyes were soft, kind and pleading. “I understand your brother may believe that he saw something beyond the Wall –”

“He did,” she reaffirmed.

“Yes, but you cannot expect us to halt hostilities and join him in fighting in the North,” he continued. “If Jon bends the knee, swears fealty to Daenerys, then we can defeat Cersei and take up arms together in your war.” Tyrion moved forward. “Sansa, you know what my sister is capable of. You know you will never be safe while she’s on the throne.”

“With respect, my lord,” Sansa said through gritted teeth. “I do not need reminding of what Cersei is capable of. As you said, I know far too well, but I also know when there is a far greater threat and that is the one in the North. You may believe me or you may not, but the Long Night is coming. Winter is here.”

“Then bend the knee,” Daenerys demanded once more. “Do it now and we can cease with this squabbling.”

“The North has suffered too long under southron rulers. We will not bend the knee,” she said confidently. “Jon will not bend the knee. The people have put their trust in his hands and he will lead them for as long as he can.”

“That’s fair. It’s also fair to point out that I’m the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms. By declaring himself King of the northern most kingdom, House Stark is in open rebellion,” she concluded, eyes narrowed.

That night, she dreamed of fire, bright and orange, flickering up the walls of Winterfell as screams pierced through the air. She could feel the heat on her skin and she wanted it to stop. She tried to remove her cloak but the heat persisted. Sansa opened her mouth to scream, to beg for mercy, for anything that could stop the pain running through her, but her voice would not work.

The thundering flap of wings had Sansa peering up into the ashen sky. There amidst the clouds, she saw two of the most fearsome creatures circling her home. Fire rained from their mouths, turning stone walls to pebbles and people to nothing more than dust. When Sansa could feel the skin peeling away from her bones, she felt it, looming great and big over her, its shadow turning day into night. Sansa moved, whirling around to face it, and immediately, she was struck, jaw gaping open, as she stared into the grey eyes of a pure white dragon. It looked back, sentient like it knew her, and flapped its large wings. The gust of air cooled the fire away and soothed the pain running through her body.

Sansa dropped to the ground and wrapped her arms around her legs. “Just kill me,” she whispered. “Kill me.” It bent its neck towards her like it was bowing, eyes cast down. Confused, Sansa shouted at it, angry and hysterical, “what do you want from me!”

Before it could respond, Sansa woke with a start, her chest pounding loudly in her ears, and the overwhelming feeling that washed through her was that she missed Jon. It was not the first time since arriving at Dragonstone that she thought this, but now knowing that Daenerys was holding them prisoner on this godsforsaken island, she missed him all the more. The thought of never seeing him again made her ache down to her very bones. She had to find a way back to him; she refused to let that moment at the gate be their last moment together.

“I should be going,” Jon said, touching a hand to her cheek. “It is not too late to change your mind.”

Sansa leaned into his touch, uncaring that Brienne, Podrick and Ser Davos were only a few feet away. “We cannot have this argument again, Jon. You’re king. The people need you here.”

“You would do just as well leading them,” he countered, thumb stroking the curve of her cheekbone. “I may be king, but you’re their lady. They love you. They trust you just as well as they trust me.”

“It’s better this way,” Sansa said with a small smile. “Smarter.”

Jon sighed. “I will not convince you otherwise, will I?”

“Have you ever?”

“No,” he said, chuckling softly. He kept his gaze on her, lingering, and drawing out the silence before he finally spoke again. “Be safe.” Without another word, Jon leaned forward to kiss her gently on the forehead, so familiar yet so different, as when he parted, he dropped his forehead to hers, allowing their breaths to swirl in between them. “I’ll miss you, Sansa.”

Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. She ran her hands up his chest to grip onto his furs. “I’ll miss you too.”

Sansa wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand as she stared out unseeingly towards the horizon. The wind blew gently, tossing her hair away from her face and neck, leaving a cool breeze to ease the heat of the south. The sound of footsteps announced his arrival.

“I came out here to brood over my failure to predict the Greyjoy attack, but I can hardly do that in the presence of my lady wife,” Tyrion said, that teasing lilt to his voice.

“I have been a prisoner many times, Lord Tyrion,” Sansa said coolly. “I have been kept against my will at the hands of your family, forced to swear my loyalty to the people who murdered my father, brother and mother. I have been kept and sold by Littlefinger to the Boltons where I was imprisoned in my own home.” Her chest rose up and down rapidly. “But I will not be a prisoner to your queen. Jon is my king and I will make it home to him.”

“Lady Sansa, you are not a prisoner. You are free to roam the beaches and –”

“Do not trifle with me, my lord,” Sansa turned to look at him. “Or have you forgotten how long I spent under your sister’s tutelage?” She pursed her lips tightly. “Your queen does not believe me. It is fair. I hardly believed Jon when he first told me and every rational thought in my mind is saying to look to Cersei. She is our biggest threat, but you don’t know Jon the way I do. Not as he is now.” She returned her gaze to the sea, imagining the man in question and what he must be doing in this moment. “He is a great king, a greater man than you and I ever thought possible in these hellish times, and if he says the Dead are coming, I suggest you heed his warning and act accordingly.”

“My lady, it is not a question of belief,” Tyrion said. “Daenerys could have sailed for Westeros long ago but she didn’t. Instead she stayed where she was and saved many people from horrible fates, some of whom are on this island with us right now. While you’re our guest here you might consider asking them what they think of the Mad King’s daughter. She protects people from monsters, just as you do. That’s why she came here. And she’s not about to head north to fight an enemy she’s never seen on a word of a man she doesn’t know after a single meeting. That’s not a reasonable thing to ask.”

Sansa smiled, though it was derived of humour. “You will forgive me if my faith in rulers who believe themselves entitled to a throne is lacking, Lord Tyrion. But I appreciate your advice and will consider your counsel with great thought. May I suggest you listen to mine as well?”

Feeling all at once exhausted and weary of this conversation, Sansa moved past her former husband and went in search of a quill and parchment. If she could not see Jon, she could write him. He’d need to know that Sansa wouldn’t be coming home for awhile yet, and that as long as she was alive, she’d find a way, not just to return to him but to convince the Dragon Queen to help one way or another. He had tasked her with an important mission and Sansa would not fail him.

Sunday Morning

A Shawn Mendes one shot.

A/N: Umm, so this is really fucking cute? Tooting my own horn here, but I’m a sucker for morning Shawn and family man Shawn and older brother Shawn and domestic Shawn and this has all of the above. Hope you enjoy xoxo

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2

“Come with me,” she said. “Come meet them.”
Kaz nodded as if steeling himself, flexed his fingers once more.
“Wait,” he said. The burn of his voice was rougher than usual. “Is my tie straight?”
Inej laughed, her hood falling back from her hair.
“That’s the laugh,” he murmured, but she was already setting off down the quay, her feet barely touching the ground.
“Mama!” she called out. “Papa!” Inej saw them turn, saw her mother grip her father’s arm. They were running toward her.
Her heart was a river that carried her to the sea.

Solicitous // Cheryl

Summary: With Cheryl grieving her brothers death you’re the only one there for her, no one stands by her side. Her parents adore you but they don’t know the truth of your relationship with Cheryl either. With the danger of a killer roaming Riverdale, Cheryl’s ever more jealous and protective.

Characters: Cheryl Blossom x Andrews!Reader, Archie Andrews (mentioned), Jughead Jones (mentioned), Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper,  Penelope Blossom (mentioned), and Cliff Blossom (mentioned)

Words: 978

Disclaimer: I do not own Riverdale or the characters. I do not own the Comics either.

Warnings: Possible swearing, mention of murder, crying/grieving, implied romantic same sex (female) relationship, and allusion to oral sex

Author: Caitsy

Requested: @gemini-indecisiveness

Tagging: At the bottom

Master List

Prompt List

ASK US A QUESTION LIST

Originally posted by riverdales-daily

When you reached adolescence you promised yourself you wouldn’t label yourself anymore. You had a lot of labels growing up in the footsteps of your brother Archie, you were the only female in the house following your mom’s abandonment. You were stamped with labels that you didn’t care for.

The sexual orientation label was the one you hated the most with the words placing you in the world where it deemed fit. That’s why when Veronica had asked if you were straight, you admired her bluntness, you had shrugged not caring.

The next day at lunch after the tryouts for cheerleading you had placed yourself between Betty and Veronica. Cheryl was busy planning new routines and you wanted more friends that weren’t total bitches.

“You’re gorgeous!” Veronica grinned, “How do you get your hair to shine like that?”

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“Ah hey…sorry I’m back…umm…you forgot your fidget spinner”

 I had a dream again.Not about Victuuri actually but me and someone else (tom hiddelston thanks to thor ragnarok) But I couldn’t get the imagine out of my head so I replaced the guy with Victor.
Okay so…there was a guy(that I replaced with Victor so imagine the guy being Victor I being Yuuri) who was really really nice and popular.I didn’t want to talk directly to him because there were many other girls but he noticed me and we started talking and talking..it was nice, cool and fucking cute.But there was a good friend of mine who got really upset because the guy rather talked to me now than to others…that made me feel pretty bad because I had no intention to start something with him, I just thought he was really nice and charming(and also way too popular to get my hopes up I thought).So I tricked him that  he and my friend would be somewhere alone.(it was like watching a movie she attempted to propose to him) 

I then walked to the beach where my family was,(we were in a huge fantasy building btw) but then I saw the guy coming back, (even in clothes) because he really wanted to talk to me more.Geez I swear that made my heart flutter because that somehow made me feel like someone was really interested in me.

Ah yeah and then he said the line above…it was a pokemon fidget spinner, really weird looking

It may sound super cliche but when you actually experience it, it feels like the best feeling in the world.

I remember the first time I heard the word lesbian. I was 7. how another young girl whispered it like a dirty word and everyone giggled, but my laugh caught in my mouth and slid down my throat, sinking like a stone into the bottom of my stomach. it was a filthy word that tasted like stagnant water whenever I tried to wrap my mouth around it. it was spat out acridly by my peers and parents and even myself; only ever as an insult. to be one was to be ugly and undesirable and completely unlovable.

the first time I was called a dyke I was 14. the words were crudely etched into the wall by the back doors of the school with a key. I took notice due to the small group gathered around it, debating it’s truthfulness. they scattered when i approached, which meant it must be serious. I traced the words with my finger, letting the cruelty of the act seep into my body. it burned my eyes as tears threatened to escape and my palms where my nails cut little crescents into the soft skin and later my hip when I pulled the blade across it for the first time.

my first kiss was when I was 16. we said goodbye as we stood on my front porch, neither of us wanting her to go. illuminated by orange light and surrounded by the still air, she was beautiful, and I was nervous. my heart cracked my ribs and my hands shook. I was confetti. I don’t remember going back inside or how long it took for me to do it but I laid in bed that night and thought of her rose petal lips and how her laugh comes out in bursts and bubbles and I knew.

finally, at 21, I’m learning how to say lesbian and have it taste like
how she takes her coffee- sugary sweet and creamy. my mouth is slowly understanding the way it needs to move to hold the syllables with care. it will take time, but I will figure out how to exhale love love love and only love. I’m teaching myself to pack my wounds with flower petals so that when I heal I can maybe be as unyieldingly soft and gentle.

Why The Name?

Okay so about 2 weeks ago my lovely friend @justthatstarboy saw this post Sophia  and he asked me to write a prompt for it. How could I refuse? 

Prompt Written by @rebel-lance

As soon as Lance felt the weight of his gun form in his hands he immediately thought of his mother. She was a pistol of a woman and everything Lance wanted to be. 

She was sweet, caring, pretty to look at but if you got on her bad side she would make sure you learn your lesson. Lance looked up to his mother and knew that no matter where he was (Even when he wasn’t on the same planet as her) she was there to protect him. 

Lance immediately named his gun Sophia. 

-

As time moved on with team Voltron and Lance found himself in more battles he would always hold his gun closer and whisper “I’ll be home soon Sophia.” 

Lance didn’t care that the team heard him. He didn’t care that they would give him questioning looks. He didn’t care what his team or anybody thought, he was surviving for his mother. He was going to come home. 

-

Roughly a month or so passed before someone questioned Lance on the name. They were all lounging in the common room and Lance was cleaning his weapon making sure everything was perfect and ready to go. 

“So Lance why the name?” Shiro looked at the boy sitting on the floor with a rag in his hands. 

Lance looked at his hero and cocked his head to the side “Name?” 

“Yeah Sophia.” Everyone turned and looked at Lance, even Hunk despite the fact that he knew where the name came from. 

Lance looked around at his team, gave them a small sigh and place the part he was cleaning on the floor and picked up another part to clean. “Sophia is the name of a pretty lady back home.” 

All of them groan jokingly, Shiro even said that he hopes she waits up for Lance and Lance said he hopes so too. 

-

Lance crouched down behind a desk and listened to the Galra run by the room. He tried to calm his heart down but it was pounding so loud and so fast that Lance was freaking out. 

The mission went bottoms up when somebody accidentally tripped a wire causing the ship to go into complete lockdown. Lance ended up being separated from his group and Pidge was filling him in where the Galra were. 

“Lance I hate to say it but they are closing in on you.” Pidge attempted to hide the panic in their voice but it leaked through enough to send Lance into a panic. 

“Pidge please tell me that I have an escape?” Lance started to shake. 

“Sorry Lance I can’t see one.” Lance could hear his team talking. They wanted to get to him but they couldn’t, it wasn’t possible. 

Lance placed his gun on the ground and put his hands over his ears. Everything was too loud and Lance couldn’t breath. He needed to do something but he didn’t know what to do. He could hear the Galra getting closer and Lance felt tears fall down his face. 

He thought back to everyone he didn’t get to say goodbye too and everything that he missed or will miss. He thought back to his mother and how heartbroken she will be when she gets told of what happened to him. 

“I’m sorry mama I can’t keep my promise.” Lance felt more tears fall from his eyes as more Galrans approached. He had promised her that he would come back home no matter what (This was back when he was in the Garrison). 

Just before Lance was about to completely give up he remember what his mother always said to him. Breaking a promise is like breaking a heart. You must fulfill the promise you made no matter what, or else you will crush someone.

Sophia had never in her entire life broken a promise and neither had Lance. This wasn’t going to be his first promise that he would break. Lance picked up his gun and peered over the desk, he counted the Galrans and looked down at his gun. “Well Sophia want to give it one more go?” Lance started to fire. 

-

It had been 6 years since Lance disappeared and Sophia was sitting in her kitchen staring at the wall with a cup of tea in her hands. She was still determined that, even after all these years, her son would come home. Even when everyone told her to just accept it she would shake her head no and say “Lance would never break a promise, especially one he made to me.” 

People sympathised with her but she didn’t want sympathy or empathy she wanted her son back. 

She heard a knock on the door and stood to answer it. She looked at the family pictures that hung from the wall. She fixed her hair and opened the door. She came face to face with a slightly taller, more buff and more mature Lance. 

He smiled at her wildly through the tears that stained his face “See mama I would never break a promise.” 

Whoops I kinda went on my own at the end. 

I hope you like it Star!!!! I know how much you love happy endings <333333

Little Matchmakers

A/N: I’m getting so many requests and I’m so happy I love writing haha, but this prompt is so great I really really like it hope you enjoy!

Ship: Diana Prince x Reader

-

Originally posted by marvel-flower

You loved your kids. All eighteen of them. You never expected ending up being a kindergarten teacher but you enjoyed your job completely. All your kids were smart and well behaved, not to mention they loved you.

But they were sneaky. Very sneaky.

Not in the classroom unless they were throwing you a surprise party or got you a present, but whenever a certain lady came to see you.. they’d act strange. On occasion you’d let some of your friends come visit you during lunchtime or after school ended, and sometimes the kids would be a bit confused.

“Miss (Y/L/N), is that your girlfriend?” You’d nearly choke on your coffee at the fact they knew what one was and you’d shake your head.

“No sweetie, she just.. A friend of mine.”

“But you hugged! You have cooties so now you have to love each other!” The whole class would giggle and you’d feel yourself turn red. You knew they didn’t mean to make you feel that way but they caught on to your odd behavior whenever she came to visit.

“Well, maybe one day. Everyone take out three crayons while I use that bathroom, I’ll be right back.” They did as told before on student shouted for everyone to come over to his desk.

“What is it Mattie?” All the kids sat around him and he climbed on top of his chair triumphantly.

“We should get Miss (Y/L/N) And Miss Prince together!” The children cheered quietly, sure to not alarm you.

“But how?” The kids quieted down for a moment before a few exclaimed.

“We can ask Miss Prince to kiss her!” A few others nodded in return, a few frowned and mocked kissing noises.

“Kissing is gross Macie. We can draw her a picture of both of them!”

“Or,” one of the shyer children stood on her feet. “We could put flowers on her desk and say they are from Miss Prince.” After a moment of silence, grins spread across their faces and they all nodded.

“Great idea Tess! At recess we can pick some of the pretty white flowers and write a note from Miss Prince!”

You’d think they would forget or not actually do it, but they did. When you came back from the bathroom, all the kids were in their seats as you asked and Caleb was already working on the note in blue crayon. At recess, as predicted all the children grouped up and picked some flowers. When you walked over to try and help, they hid the ones they already had down Mila’s shirt. (She was very itchy at lunch)

At lunch, one set of twins offered to give up their brownies even, so then they had slightly crumpled flowers, two brownies, a very blue note in crayon, and an itchy Mila. It was the end of the day, and before you walked in they had set all the items they’d collected on your chair and rushed back to their seats giggling.

“Alright class, we have a few more minutes until we go home, so you can all talk to each other.” No one turned to face each other or anything, their eyes stayed glued to the chair as you turned around to see it. “What’s this?” You picked up the small note and flowers, along with the two brownies and read it out loud, misspellings and all. It read:

“Dere Miss (Y/L/N), I lov yuou, And yuou are my grlfrend now. I got flowrs, brwnie and leter. Love Miss Prence”

You smiled at the sight of it, instantly recongizing Caleb’s handwriting and feeling your heart melt.

“Miss Prince left it here! We saw her! She said she loves you so now she’s your girlfriend!” A little girl named Emma declared, a few other small heads nodding as well.

“Is this a bad time?” Diana was standing at the door with her hands behind her back and smiling at Emma. “I guess you could say she’s right.” The kids gasped and looked back at you.

“Come on in Diana, you’re fine.” You smiled and walked up to hug her, but before you could she handed you a small bouquet of daisies, similar to the one on your chair.

“Hey, those look like the flowers Mila had in her shirt!” Mila glared at him and you chuckled. You turned back to Diana who had a slight blush and was smiling.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“Looks like they beat you to it.” You handed her the note and she scanned it over, looking at the kids then you.

“As I said before, they aren’t wrong.” You gasped and everything was silent and stood still before you heard a tiny voice shout out.

“HUG!” Soon the rest of the class joined in with a chant and giggling, and you both obliged. Diana kissed you on the side of your cheek where the kids. couldn’t see and you smiled.

“You really want to be together?”

“Of course.”

“Miss (Y/L/N)? I think Mila needs to go to the nurse.”

First of all... Yes

Originally posted by alinok

A/N: This was actually requested by @allipotterhead1 (my first request, may I add) and I got a bit carried away but I didn’t want to miss anything out, I hope you like it, I tried my best!

Request: “Jughead x plus size reader, where their relationship is a secret. In which the reader is Kevin’s sister and one time they have a heavy make out session and Kevin, Veronica, Betty and Archie just walk in on them and Betty and Veronica are losing their shit because they ship it so hard, Kevin is totally sweet but excited and already plans their future but Archie asks him why he would date someone like her? I know it’s really specific but I can’t get this idea out of my head and I’m an awful writer… (And I don’t mean to hate on Archie, I really love him, but I love me some good angst)”

Word Count: 2,761 (jeez, this is long)

Warnings: Angst, Archie’s a bit of a dick, there is a swear word, and some makin’ out.

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