so i decided to play with a shit tone of layers

Originally posted by lethalbarnes



Title: “Can I try on the Suit?” (Reader x Peter Parker)

Summary: A certain spider hero crawls into the confines and comfort of his own bedroom, not even realising that the reader has been waiting for him.

Word Count: 1536

A/N: OK I LOVE THIS A LOT! I’ve been working on it during my free time this week and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! :) 

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Closer

Author: Mikala

Characters: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Word Count: 3,350

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex (please use protection, kiddos). Swearing. I think that’s it. 

Author’s Note: This is my first time writing Loki so I hope it’s good! Let me know what you think!

“Good evening, Loki,” you greeted, taking your usual seat on one of the couches in the living room. You were received with silence, just like you had been every day for the past three weeks. Huffing softly but indignantly, you tucked your legs beneath you, curling up against the arm of the otherwise empty couch. You dropped your attention to your book, opening it to where you’d last left off, but you couldn’t help stealing a few glances at the raven-haired trickster. He sat elegantly in an armchair that he’d pulled close to the glass wall, staring pensively into the distance outside.

Thor had brought his brother to the Tower in hope that the “Earth’s mightiest heroes” would be able to keep him under their watchful eyes, and maybe even have a good influence on him. So far, the latter part was futile; Loki hadn’t acted out at all, but he’d done nothing but brood in silence since he’d gotten here. Although, you could somewhat understand why—everyone else in the tower was either treating him with a cold shoulder, or making snide remarks to him in an attempt to rouse him up. You didn’t really understand what the point of provoking him was. You’d even attempted to break the ice with him, to no avail.

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What’s Mine Is Yours

Originally posted by luisafuchsluisa

Summary: Cas asks reader an interesting question that leads to something surprising…

Pairing: Dean x reader (x Cas)

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: smut (oral, threesome), language

A/N: Look what I found hiding in my drafts. Sharing is caring, am I right?…


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CP bachelor AU: part 7

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

***

Laurent isn’t stupid enough to take someone like Jokaste entirely at her word. He sends Nicaise to talk to Kyrina, for corroboration, and doesn’t act immediately. For a few days he considers his options; there are benefits to knowing something that the person playing on the other side of the board isn’t aware of you knowing. There are ways to use a pawn against its master.

In the end, he decides to deal with it directly. Minimise the damage, and move on.

They’re filming at the house again. The eight remaining suitors are proving their domestic skills in what Laurent expected Damen to declaim as a celebration of archaic gender roles. However, it turns out that Damen has no objections given that four of them are male, and even Damen might be willing to let his taste buds override his conscience when it comes to chocolate cake.

Some of Halvik’s eclectic experience was on a cooking show, back in the nineties, so Laurent lets her handle most of the actual baking segments. When Laurent strides onto the set, Halvik has disappeared and Aimeric is overseeing the aftermath, which largely consists of Damen eating cupcakes while the suitors ‘accidentally’ get icing on their fingers and try to lick it off in Damen’s line of sight.

“Stop,” Laurent commands.

Filming grinds to a halt. Laurent directs his gaze pointedly to the huddle of giggles in the corner of the kitchen nearest the pantry; Kallias looks up from where he is, apparently, sifting icing sugar into Erasmus’s hair. Erasmus is flushed with laughter.

“Aimeric,” Laurent says, into the expectant silence. “You’re fired.”

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Kink

Helloooo! This is in celebration to my 4K followers, which I’ve reached today. New one shots will be coming very soon, stay tuned! Lots of love, B xx

***

Originally posted by prettylittlelarrie

***

Harry was in a mood.

You had first noticed it when you woke up at just about 8 am and found him lying on the living room couch, one hand resting atop his covered cock while he palmed himself in slow strokes that you knew would do nothing for him except work him up until he was painfully hard and feeling needy enough to come find you. A wank for a wank was always good, he said it himself, but nothing could beat having his cock buried balls deep inside of you - be it your mouth or your cunt, maybe both, mouth first, your cunt later, he’d always prefer you. But, when almost an hour later he still hadn’t come find you, you could tell there was something off.

When you emerged again, soft cotton t-shirt of his almost see through from how old and worn out it was being the only thing covering your body except the baby pink boyshorts you wore to bed the night before, Harry was still on the couch, eyes trained on whatever food channel he found, hand still resting atop of his now fully hard cock. The visual confused you - why would he, in a sane state of mind, tease himself to the point of being almost painfully hard just for the sake of it?

You can’t help but giggle when you see him giving himself a squeeze, wheezing when his thumb runs over his tip that was pushing against the loose fabric of his shorts.

“Oi! What are yeh laughing fo’?” He asks, voice breaking from the feeling of his hand on his cock but the sound of your laughter catches his attention and alerts him of your presence.

“Morning wood that won’t go down?” You ask, leaning over the back of the couch to bury your nose in oodles of curls, his hair finally long enough to form the ringlets you love oh so much. Your hand slips down his torso to slide smoothly and expertly along his shaft but he grabs your wrist in a quick movement, turning his head to the side to brush the tip of his nose against yours, eyes lulled and dark while he focuses on your lips as he tuts at you silently.

“No, love. Been waiting for you.” He assures you, smile curling his lips when your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his perfectly pink lips brushing against yours.

“Let me help, then.” You croak, twisting your wrist trying to escape his hold.

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anonymous asked:

think about 18 year old yuuri who still hasn't outgrown all the baby fat, meeting phichit for the first time and phichit thinks he's the CUTEST hamster-cheeked boy ever and having one of those, oh-shit-im-super-gay moments. during finals when yuuri exercises less and eats more junk food he gets fluffier. once they're both done with papers and in that stress-hangover period phichit loves laying on the couch with him, kissing his tummy and thighs to relax and reward them both for surviving finals

Oh gosh imagine a Yuuri who’s in the tail end of puberty, fluffy cheeks and sides with shoulders that haven’t quite broadened yet. He’s soft but solid, a layer of chub protecting a toned abdomen, and softening sparking eyes. Phichit falls for him the moment he meets his roommate, expelling any questions he’d had about his sexuality. Phichit decided to play the long game when it came to Yuuri. No matter how much he liked him, he knew that not having him in his life would be unbearable, so forming a strong friendship came first. He wanted the relationship to form naturally, but Phichit also didn’t have any reservations trying to prod it along a little. Above all, he loved the feeling of Yuuri’s skin, delectably soft and smooth, and couldn’t help seeking contact whenever he could. He could tell Yuuri was in love with the touches as well, relaxing when he felt a hand at his shoulder and melting in to a puddle when Phichit ran his hands through Yuuri’s hair. He gets more daring as the year goes on, moving his hand to Yuuri’s side to run his thumb along the exposed skin there, pulling Yuuri into his lap when they watch movies, placing kisses at his temple and shoulder, casual butt squeezes. By the end of the year they are utterly comfortable with each other, and Phichit can’t help but sign with relief as he crawls between Yuuri’s legs and rests his head on that soft stomach. Phichit loved how Yuuri became just a bit fluffier from the unintentional stress eating, as it just made him all the more cuddly. He let his hands smooth along the skin of Yuuri’s sides, trailing his fingers higher up underneath the cotton of his shirt. Fingertips tracing along residual stretch marks while his lips sought to press kisses into the soft skin as well. A soft hum from Yuuri let Phichit know that he was loving the caresses as much as Phichit was. Phichit let his hands trace along all of his favorite bits of Yuuri, from his wonderfully thick thighs, to the meat of his ass, padded biceps and soft hair. He let his mouth continue to press kisses into Yuuri’s stomach, and found himself wandering higher up his torso as his hands did. After pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s neck, he made to kiss the tip of Yuuri’s nose, but was instead met with lips equally as soft as the rest of him

Works Everytime (Star Lord Reader Insert)

Anon Request: Could I please have a s,tut with y/n and peter quill having a pickup line contest until it starts getting touchy feely. (Ps could you please add a hand job for giggles c: I love your work btw

Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), hand job for giggles, tiny bit of dirty talk, peter calls reader a slut (but only once it’s okay)

Words: 1906

all these pick up lines are extremely cheesy and i want to die but enjoy lol

*****

“Did you sit in a pile of sugar? ‘Cause you have a sweet ass,” Peter comments, still pacing around the bunk like a mad person while you’re sat crisscross on his bed. Surprisingly, it’s not his worst one yet.

“Well, you’re slowly getting better,” you tell him, not looking up from his old, beat up Rubik’s cube that you’re struggling to solve.

For the past few days, Quill has been “testing” his infamous pick-up lines on you. They were all extremely lame and you’re honestly quite amazed that they worked on anyone ever.

It all goes back to when you guys were hitting up the local bar. Peter was doing his usual business of being completely skeevy. He’d spotted a girl he’d found particularly attractive and, keep in mind that these were from his tellings, apparently she was eyeing him pretty hard too. However, when he’d finally gone up to her and delved into his inner library of lines, she threw a drink in his face. You felt more bad that you weren’t there to see it rather than for the man himself. Although, you didn’t hesitate to bust out laughing when he came up to you drenched in pungent alcohol with a tiny, pink umbrella stuck in his hair and a sour expression.

Peter tried his luck again a day or so later and, while there were no tossing of drinks, he was deafeningly bitched out by a girl to the point where he physically had to leave the bar so she would stop. That was pretty awesome too.

Only thing was, it had completely crushed the deep faith he had in himself to be able to pick up chicks. That combined with him being sex-deprived was making him 10x more annoying and bitchy than usual. He would rant about how he swore he was cursed or something, but you reminded him that not every woman is always dumb and/or drunk enough to fall for his shit. Yet, that didn’t satisfy him and back in reality, he was still being just a tiny bit deranged.

“That’s bullshit. These are golden, like, you should really be writing these down,” he declares, half serious about his statement.

“Uh-huh, anyways…” You’re more focused on completing the cube to care about this whole situation. Any other person would be able to move on with their life but, for men with an ego like Peter’s, this was an utter travesty.

“I’m serious, (Y/N), these are great.”

“Mhmm.”

“What?” he asks incredulously, “You think you could do better?”

“Honestly? Yes.” Anything you could churn out would be better than what he’s delivering.

“Alright, go ahead. Hit me with one,” he eggs you on. Since Quill is obviously hellbent on not letting this go, you toss the cube to the side. You pause for a moment before meeting his eyes in what you hoped resembled a sexy gaze.

“Are you a racehorse? ‘Cause when I ride you, you’ll always finish first.” You want to cringe at your own words, but you remain confident.

“Not bad for a rookie,” he shrugs, moving to sit next to you on the bed. “But, (Y/N), lemme ask you a question: do you have a mirror in your pocket?”

“I don’t think so, why?” you say sarcastically, indulging him. Peter leans in close, his face only inches from yours. He lowers his eyes sinfully and lets his voice drop an octave as he speaks.

“Because I see myself in your pants.” There something in the air that shifts and tells you to push it further, so you let your hand rest high on his upper thigh, feeling his body heat radiating through his pant leg. His eyebrow quirks and his stare is hard, almost entirely not blinking. Your faces are incredibly close to the point where you suddenly have the urge to feel his mouth on yours. However, you’re more desperate to win this little contest.

“What are you doing tonight? Besides me?”

“Your clothes would look even better on my floor,” he shoots back.

“I wish you were soap so I could feel you all over me,” you remark slyly.

“Babe, are you an elevator? ‘Cause I want to go down on you.”

This back and forth goes on for a little longer until you decide to kick it up a notch. Your warm hand drifts slowly from his thigh to his slight bulge, letting your hand massage it gently. He maintains eye contact, but his eyes flutter slightly and you feel a puff of air fan against your face from his soft exhale. Your eyes automatically follow his tongue as it swipes at the corner of his mouth.

“Are you the delivery man?” you whisper, snapping the button open on his pants and dragging the zipper down slowly. Your fingers trace the v-line that’s etched into his hips before letting them slip past the waistband of his boxers, ultimately closing them around his undeniably hard cock. “Cause I think you have a package for me.”

Peter barely has time to smirk at your stupid words because you’ve begun stroking him mildly. Freeing him from his pants and underwear, you run your thumb over his tip, collecting the glistening pearl of pre-cum as a lubricant. His chest heaves up and down at a steady pace, his muscles clearly defined through the fabric of his shirt.

“You dirty cheater,” he says with a breathy chuckle. You bite down on your bottom lip, doing your best to hide your satisfaction. The light, almost whiny curses that fall from his lips are foreign and new to you. It wasn’t like you’d never heard him say “fuck” before, but it was either in an angry or joking tone. The way he muttered it under his breath followed by a low grunt spoke a thousand more words and they all said sex. “Shit, (Y/N).”

Picking up the speed, he groans and throws his head back. You take the opportunity to kiss his neck, leaving small bites and licks on his skin. With your free hand, you run your fingers through his hair and watch his fists clench in the sheets beneath you, his knuckles almost white and his eyebrows knit together. He’s a panting mess and, within moments, you feel him thicken in your palm. His jaw clenches and a grunt erupts from the back of his throat. Hot, stickiness coats the back of your hand and wrist and you feel yourself grow heated at the sight of him so unraveled.  

The hand of his that isn’t tangled in the sheets is balled in the fabric of your shirt that covers your lower back. When he finally relaxes, he slumps back against the bed with his cheeks a lovely shade of crimson. You kiss his jaw sweetly, get up to grab a random piece of cloth off the floor to wipe the sign of his pleasure off your skin. In some way, you feel victorious and smirk to yourself as the image of him coming undone replays in your mind. But that feeling of triumph is replaced with a slight fear as your hips are rapidly gripped and you’re thrown onto the bed like a football through a field goal.

“You wanna play nasty, huh?” Peter asks, gritting the words through his teeth as he tears through your layers. Your cotton shorts are ripped past your thighs so fast it leaves a bit of a burning sensation. He’s quick to remove your panties as well, the action taking mere seconds and spreads your legs aggressively. There’s something about his primal assertiveness that drives you 50 shades of crazy and you shiver as the cool air hits your core.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he mutters more to himself than you, for you can barely hear the words.

With one final, sinful wink, he buries his face between your legs. Your back immediately arches off the mattress as you take a sharp intake of breath. His tongue rolls against your core like a wave crashing against the shore, then slips it inside your heat forcing you to pull at your own messed hair. All you can manage are incoherent whimpers and whines and you could swear your eyes almost cross. His own devilish eyes meet yours, holding your gaze until you give up to throw your head against the pillow. It feels incredible, your body already beginning to twitch. Your legs threaten to close but he’s stronger and holds them in place, letting his fingers dig deep into your skin in order to do so.

“Fuck, just like that… Oh my God,” you groan, licking your lips.

Peter works you over a little longer until your body tightens, then you shudder all together. A warmth runs through your veins and an explosion is set off in your lower stomach. But he isn’t done with you yet.

Quill deftly pushes two fingers inside your wetness, filling you to his knuckle and wraps his lips around your clit. Your hips threaten to buck upwards, but he somehow manages to hold you still. Curling another finger inside you, he holds your leg up over his shoulder to get a better angle on your g-spot and strokes it with each pump of his fingers. You come again, a lot quicker than last time and you can’t help thinking ‘damn, he’s good.’

“You like that? Like me fucking you with my fingers?” he asks, knowing the answer by your pleasantly contorted expression. “Bet you want my cock instead.” You nod, letting your nails dig into his shoulder and your fingers pull at his hair.

Your calling his name over and over like it’s a damn prayer. Even though you probably should, you don’t care who hears it. Because now, you’re working on your third orgasm. Your body’s a quivering mess and every nerve ending feels like it’s on fire. And- oh! There it is again!

He helps you ride it out, letting you roll yourself against his face and you’re breathless once you’ve returned from your high. Your body feels like goo, as if you could melt right into the mattress. You don’t feel Quill slide up next to you until you feel his lips press against the corner of your jaw and, without looking at him, you can feel that his cockiness is back in full effect.

“Little slut likes her pussy eaten, huh? How many times did you come, baby?” he asks, arrogance dripping with each word. His grin is especially evident against your skin and you almost want to smack it off of him. But, for some reason, you’re grinning too.

“Shut up,” you order breathlessly whilst trying to manage the mass of mess that is your hair.  His hands wander under your shirt, trailing up to cup your breast. If it was even possible, he grins even wider when he feels you have no bra on and rolls your sensitive nipple between his fingers. Your back raises ever so slightly as he pulls at the soft bud, heat threatening to pool between your legs once more.

“C’mon, tell me.”

“Three,” you answer, you voice much more breathier and whiny than you anticipated. “You happy now, Star Lord?”

“Mhmm, told you those lines are golden,” he brags, not too long after sucking a deep mark on the spot below your ear that you know someone will blatantly point out later. “Works everytime.”

Wake Me Up [Viktuuri]

Summary: AU where Yuuri and Viktor are still figure skaters, but instead of being Yuuri’s love interest and Coach, Viktor is his friend and another skater who competes against him, like Christophe and Phichit. After a casual ‘friends with benefits’ kind of hook up, Viktor starts to see Yuuri in a different light, and questions whether he just wants to be his friend, or something more.

Word Count: 3,759

Read Here: [x]

They’re tangled together – limb entwined with limb as they strip each other of their clothes. There’s the occasional drunken giggle and the knocking of teeth and suddenly their clothes are gone, and they’re kissing and sucking on skin and gasping each others names. Short, breathless gasps of Yuuri and Viktor. The only sounds you’d hear is slapping of skin and gasps and moans as they melt into each other.

There aren’t any feelings here. It’s only platonic passion and emotion and desperate need for some sort of release. However, Viktor let’s himself forget among the desperate pants and moans.

The platonic emotions are back, though, and it’s all over when Yuuri wakes him up.


He’s naked, drowsy and in pain from a hangover. He keeps the sheets over him, and realizes that he’s not in his or Yuuri’s homes, but a very expensive looking hotel room. Viktor remembers last night, but only parts. He’s not naive – he knows what happened with Yuuri. He knows that they slept together. He knows that it was entirely casual and he knows that Yuuri thinks nothing more of Viktor than he would of a friend.

He only faintly hears Yuuri’s voice as he wakes up. His eyes are slowly adjusting to the seeping light but he can see Yuuri’s shape as it wanders around the room. As he adjusts, he can see the exposed muscles in Yuuri’s back flex.
Yuuri isn’t particularly muscular, nor is he tall or typically attractive. But Viktor notices, as the light hits his face in a certain way, that he is unusually beautiful. His face is rounded, slightly, but his jaw is strong enough. His eyes are plain brown, but they’re also a lovely brown, and they look gorgeous behind his glasses.

Yuuri’s voice is barely above a whisper when he sits on the bed beside Viktor. “You need to get up, Viktor.” His hand rests on Viktor’s thigh and he offers a warm smile. “You promised Chris that you’d help him prepare for the party tonight.”

Viktor grumbles and sits up straight, his hand flying to his head as he grimaces. He’s never been his normal giddy self in the mornings. “Why do we need another party? Isn’t the Banquet enough?”

“It’s not an official official,” Yuuri shrugs as he hurries on a shirt. His drawstring pants are loose and start to slip down his waist as he gets up. He fixes them and tightens the string. “It’s just a party that Chris wants to throw in celebration. I don’t know why he’d be celebrating, though. This is the first time he hasn’t placed second in a long time.”

Viktor giggles like a schoolgirl. “Or first,” he reminds the dark haired skater. “Don’t forget, Yuuri, you placed second.”

“Yeah, and you placed first.” Yuuri rolls is eyes. “Like you have every year.” He sighs at Viktor’s mumbled, not every year, and runs his fingers through his hair. “You know, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. In case you’ve forgotten, you were my inspiration since I was a kid.”

“And I’ve admired you since before we met last year.” Viktor grins. He finally pulls himself out of bed and shrugs on a night gown. “You’re too hard on yourself, as well, Yuuri.”

They get dressed in silence. Viktor’s eyes wander to Yuuri again and again, and he sighs. He hates this feeling. Yuuri is one of his best friend’s – to think of him like this is selfish. He hates that his stomach l fills with butterflies every time he looks at him, and he hates that he can’t help but smile whenever Yuuri fixes his glasses or a strand of hair. He hates it.

Viktor has never felt like this about Yuuri before. Sure, he admired him for a good year or so, and he’s definitely thought about how good his ass looks in his costumes, but he’s never really thought about him like this.

Before either of them say anything, Yuuri’s hand is on the doorknob and he’s twisting it and it’s open, he turns back to Viktor and smiles timidly. “I’ll see you at the party tonight.” And he’s gone. Viktor looks around. So this is my hotel room, he thinks. They all look the same, don’t they?



“Yurio~” Viktor singsongs to the 16 year old blond as he walks into Chris’ party. His face is flustered and it’s clear that he’s just been with Otabek. “You look awfully dishevelled!”

Yurio’s eyes are wide as he turns his gaze to the floor, and Otabek walks in behind him. They’ve done this before, Viktor knows it. “Shut up, shit head.” He turns bright red as Otabek stops at his side. “What would you know?” he bumps his hand against his taller friend’s and the older bumps Yurio’s Back.

“I know that whenever your face is that red, you’ve been up to no good.” Viktor hums knowingly with a shit eating grin he knows Yurio hates. “And that your lips are swollen.”

It’s Otabek’s turn to flush, his eyes growing wide as he looks down at Yurio. Victor’s grin doesn’t falter as they both make their way to the bathrooms in a rush. They’re only in there for ten minutes, and return to Viktor telling a dad joke to Yuuri, who’s eyes wander to the pair and greets them with a grin that almost splits his face in two. “Fancy seeing you two here,” he hums. “I thought you’d avoid a party put together by Chris like the Plague, Yurio.”

“Don’t call me that, piggy.” Yurio spits, no venom in his tone. “Beka forced me to come. He said it’d be rude if I didn’t.”

“He was right!” a voice comes from behind the blond, louder than the music playing over the bustling conversations, and they all recognise the voice to be none other than Chris’. He decided to play all of this seasons music for the party, even the songs from the skaters who didn’t make it to the Grand Prix Final. “You wouldn’t want to be so rude as to not come to your dear friend’s party, would you?”

Yurio scoffs. He grabs a drink from a platter one of the volunteers is carrying around and pretty much downs it in one go. “The fucking Banquet is enough, I only go to it because I have to.” He ignores Otabek bending down to whisper, you don’t actually have to go. “This is bullshit. Especially the fucking butlers.”

“Oh, Yurio!” Viktor sighs dramatically. “Such a foul mouth for such a small boy!”

“Shut up, old man.”

They all burst out in laughter, other than Yurio, of course. Viktor gives Yuuri a sideways glance and his face is fixed on his. His eyes wander across Yuuri’s features and he takes in every wrinkle and curve in the younger man’s face as he laughs.

Yurio notices Viktor staring, and a grin similar to the one Viktor wore earlier splits his lips. “I noticed the piggy leaving your hotel room this morning.” At Viktor and Yuuri’s sputters and coughs, Yurio rolls his eyes. “Did you forget that our rooms are on the same floor, dumbass? What was Yuuri doing in your room last night?” his voice is demanding as he gives the pair an impatient glare.

Viktor starts to panic as he swallows the lump in his throat. He’s about to sputter out some kind of lie before Yuuri speaks up. “I was having a panic attack.” He lies awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with anyone. “I… Uh, drank a bit too much at the Banquet last night, so… I get anxious when I’m tipsy. When I started sobering up I started getting all weird and panicky so I found Viktor’s room and he helped me out.”

Yurio doesn’t seem to notice Yuuri’s lie, which is strange for thim considering he’s far more observant than most people realize. He murmurs under his breath. “With sex,” but they all pretend not to hear. They all do.

Viktor gives Yuuri a look that the brunette definitely notices. He looks down at the Japanese skater and furrows his eyebrows, as if asking, why lie? Yuuri shrugs and smiles warmly at Phichit as he enters the room, leaving Viktor behind with tinted cheeks.



Viktor has never understood the idea of a tattoo. Perhaps it’s because of his appreciation of the human body, or just the idea of something so permanent and painful. He’s just always found them distasteful.

Well – until now. He’s standing in front of an expensive looking tattoo parlour – one about half way between his apartment and the rink he trains at. He was walking home, but stopped at the sight of it.

He looks down at his bare wrist and shivers. It’s autumn, almost winter, and the cold is slowly creeping into the air. He thinks of what it would be like to have something so terrifyingly permanent as a tattoo against his complexion, and thinks about what he’d even have inked into his skin.

A name. A specific name. With a fancy ‘Y’ and two cursive ‘u’s and an ‘r’ and an ‘i’. Or would he have it in Russian? Or Japanese? English seems most appropriate, considering its the second most common language in the world.

Viktor sighs.



When winter finally arrives, Viktor realises something he wishes he hadn’t.
He sits beside Yuuri at an outdoor cafe, both covered in layers of warm clothing and scarves and jackets. It’s a warmer day, still below ten degrees Celsius. They share a large bowl of chips (they’re both a bit tight on money) and their fingers brush against one another’s. Yuuri’s cheeks turn pink, and Viktor’s eyes widen as he observes his best friend’s face.

How has he never noticed it?

Normally, Yuuri’s eyes are brown. A deep brown that you can get lost the in if you stare long enough. But today? Viktor’s gaze doesn’t stray or falter as he stares and notices them – little flecks of caramel and golden.

It happens again, not a week later. They sit inside on a colder day, beneath blankets as they watch Shrek for the third time that month. Rather than paying attention to the movie (he can probably recite the entire script, by now), he’s paying attention to Yuuri’s eyes as they flicker back and forth across the TV, and he notices them again. Little flecks of golden and caramel hiding in the deep chocolate brown that Viktor can get lost in.

He keeps seeing them. He sees them in the mornings they’re together and the nights they share at each others sides. He sees them when he closes his eyes.
When Spring comes bounding, blinding, they’re gone, and Viktor realises that they’re only there in cold air.

Viktor wishes he had never noticed the golden caramel flecks in chocolate brown, because he selfishly decides that he wants nothing more than to hold Yuuri in a cold place for the rest of their lives



That night, at Chris’ party, when Yuuri told everyone that whenever he has a panic attack he goes straight to Viktor and that was why he was there the night before – he wasn’t telling a complete lie. He does have panic attacks and when he has them, who’s the first person he thinks to go to?

Viktor.

He’s sitting on Viktor’s love seat in his living room now, his head in between his bouncing knees and cradled by his own hands. Viktor’s hand is against Yuuri’s back, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades as he whispers to him.

“Are you alright?” Viktor’s voice is soft and soothing to Yuuri as he continues rubbing his back. When Yuuri slowly nods his head, the silver haired Russian frowns because he knows that his friend is lying. He always knows when he’s lying. “I know you like hot baths. I’ll run you one, alright?” When Yuuri doesn’t move, Viktor smirks. “I’ll fill it with scented bubbles~”

Yuuri tenses and hesitates before he finally nods.

As Viktor fills up the bath he sits and stares and wonders. He watches the bubbles fill the bath and pictures Yuuri lying there, giving Viktor the look he always gives him. Losing himself in Viktor’s eyes like the Russian got lost in his.

Viktor imagines a future. He imagines a child in the bathtub in a home far away from the city. He pictures Yuuri trying to cook and failing miserably and he pictures the two of them at one another’s side on the lounge in the living room, looking down at a child grinning up at them from the carpeted floor.

Viktor has to shake his head to get the picture of it out of his head.

When he returns to the living room, Yuuri stares at him with wide, anxious eyes, and his fingers are tangled and fiddling. Viktor sighs and sits beside him, and Yuuri wraps his arms around Viktor’s torso straight away.

“Yuuri,” Viktor’s voice is small, unlike his normal, boisterous tone. “What set you off?”

Yuuri’s reply is so small, Viktor almost doesn’t hear it. He does, though, and once the brunette has mumbled out the small, timid “You,” he’s holding on to him like his life depends on it without giving a single care about the hot bath turning cold. He can draw another one later.



They’re walking along a beach when Viktor finally does something.

His eyes are fixed on the sand as they dawdle along the beach at each others sides. Yuuri is smiling at Viktor and telling a story about the friend of his from Hasetsu who used to help him with his skating, but Viktor isn’t listening.

He notices a pebble that kind of resembles a heart shape, and he closes his eyes as he stops completely. Yuuri looks back at him. “Viktor, are you alright?”
The Russian doesn’t reply. He reaches for the pebble and stares at it in his hand. He has a rock in his other hand, suddenly, and starts chipping at the pebble. Yuuri’s eyes are fixed between Viktor and the pebble in his hand and he narrows them. “Viktor. What are you doing?”

Viktor looks down at the pebble in his hand, satisfied, and hands it to Yuuri. “If you can, use some string and make it into a necklace. You could wear it, if you want. I think it’d look nice on you.”

He doesn’t notice the tear rolling down Yuuri’s right cheek until he really looks, and suddenly, he feels one trickle down his own cheek – hot and barely even there.

And now Yuuri’s smiling up at Viktor, lopsided, awkward and nervous, just like all of his beautiful smiles. They’re contagious – Viktor noticed this a long time ago, so he smiles down a got Yuuri, and suddenly their fingers are tangled and they’re both silent.

They stay like that until they’re both going home.



Viktor isn’t entirely sure how, but it happens again.

For a second time, they’re a mess of limbs and lust but this time, they aren’t drunk. They’re completely sober as they dance through the routine another time – kisses and gasps shared. They cling to each other, pulling one another closer with each passing moment. Yuuri lies beneath Viktor and moans his name, over and over. He’s never been particularly crude – profanities aren’t his style.

Viktor is the same. His mouth only let’s sweet pants and gasps tumble out and he’s looking down at his best friend with adoration in his eyes and admiration in his features.

For a second time, it’s all over when Yuuri wakes him up.

This time, they’re in Viktor’s apartment, and Yuuri isn’t wandering around the room without a shirt on and only drawstring pants. Yuuri lies beside Viktor, just as naked as the Russian. His snores are loud and he understands how he woke up.

He treads lightly into the kitchen once he’s dressed and makes two cups of tea. Yuuri’s is a Japanese herbal tea that Viktor knows he loves. He tiptoes into his room, and gives a small smile when he sees Yuuri, sitting up in his bed. “Good morning,” the brunette mumbles. “Did you make tea?”

Viktor nods and hands him his mug, sitting beside him to drink his own.

“It’s the herbal one I told you about.” Yuuri notices as he inhales the scent. “I can’t believe you remembered.” He sips at his tea, his face lighting up as it warms his face and body.

Viktor watches him. He watches how his lips wrap over the edge of the tea cup and how his fingers are long and slim. He watches Yuuri’s eyes, too, and notices the wrinkles at either side of his face when he closes them. He watches him and stares at every part of his face, and looks down to his own hand.

His hands are kind of pale, like the rest of him. His fingers are slim and bony, and his hands are thin and you can see a few veins. He looks at his finger – his forth finger – and sighs. He thinks to himself, wouldn’t a ring look nice there?

His exhale wavers as it leaves his lips and he looks at Yuuri. He’s been doing a lot of that lately. Looking at Yuuri. “I’ll be back,” Viktor snaps suddenly, wincing at his tone as he makes his way to the balcony. He grabs a pack of cigarettes and grimaces at the photo on the packaging .

He hates the feeling of smoking. He feels gross and he hates himself for it but he can’t stop. He started about three years ago, just after he cut his hair – he was going through a kind of phase. An existential crisis when he’d questioned his skill and career and he decided then to say fuck you to his health and his iconic hair.

He doesn’t smoke very often, so he’s never done it in front of Yuuri or any of his friends other than Chris. He supposes that’s why he grimaces and frowns when Yuuri pads onto the balcony, giving Viktor a disappointed stare.

“You didn’t tell me you smoked.”

“I don’t do it very often,” Viktor sighs, taking a long, soothing drag from the cigarette. “I’m not like one of those chain-smokers who can smoke a pack a day.”

Yuuri’s face twists into a cringe when he smells the smoke, and he turns his nose away. “I hate the smell.” He says. “My sister smokes and I’ve been trying to get her to stop but she won’t listen to me.”

“Mm,” Viktor takes another drag, then puts it out in an ashtray he’s hidden so no one can find it without looking for it. “I’ll try and quit. For you.”

Yuuri stays silent.

For some reason, Viktor opens his mouth again. “Yuuri, how do you feel about marriage?”

Yuuri’s eyes were wide as they snapped up to meet Viktor’s, and he stars stuttering as his fingers automatically fiddle. “Well… Technically, I can’t get married, but it seems nice…” He alerts his intense, nervous gaze from Viktor’s eyes to the floor.

The silver haired Russian frowns, silently cursing at himself for being the reason that saddened gaze sets upon Yuuri’s expression. He nods and hums solemnly, and jumps when Yuuri asks, “Why?”

Viktor is caught off guard with how close Yuuri suddenly is to him, which makes him want to laugh. He looks down at the brunette and heaves a great sigh from his lungs before looking away.

Being this close to Yuuri is like being in the eye of a storm. It’s calm, quiet and seemingly peaceful, but something always happens to get Yuuri out of this shy, nervous state and into his Eros persona – the storm.

Viktor knows that he feels something for Yuuri beyond a sexual attraction; he’s not naive. He knows that the feeling he gets whenever he looks at Yuuri is something far more. The feeling of overwhelming affection seeping through his chest and enveloping his heart – it was almost suffocating and he needed to do something about it.

“Viktor?” Yuuri’s voice brings him back to where he’s standing; on his balcony, the brunette’s hand comforting on his own. “Did you hear me? I want to know why you asked that – you know what? Never mind.”

For a second, Viktor thinks Yuuri’s going to kiss him. He’s close enough – just another inch and their lips would be slotted together, sending sparks along their spines. But Viktor thinks, if he’s going to kiss me, he’s really taking his time. Because Yuuri is close, but not moving, and it’s driving the Russian mad.

So, to put them both out of their misery, though he believes it’s only his, Viktor finally jerks his head forward, and finds himself a mess of affection, dancing tongues, saliva and an oddly excessive amount of fireworks.

The first time they kissed, there wasn’t nearly as much boom to the display of sexual tension. It was nice – but it was messy. The first time they kissed, they were both drunk and giddy from the aftermath of the Grand Prix Final.

Now, barely a year later, they’re sober and giddy from the aftermath of a second ‘casual’ hook-up, lips pretty much glued together as they whimper and moan at the feeling of one another’s hands running along their bare skin below the fabric of the little clothing they were wearing.

Unlike their kisses shared before, this one isn’t heated and rushed. It’s sensual and slow, and Viktor brings his hands to cup Yuuri’s face and to bring the brunette closer. Yuuri’s hands are on Viktor’s waist and he’s pulling the Russian closer and now they’re pressed against each other and their lips are joined with tongues dancing between them.

Viktor has never felt so alive.

Now Viktor’s hand is exploring the brunettes chest and he feels it – the pebble from the beach. Attached to a string, it sits perfectly against the part of Yuuri’s chest where his heart would be and Viktor feels his eyes watering.

He decides, suddenly, that he’s in love.

He doesn’t realize he’s pulled away until he’s gasping for breath and struggling to keep tears from trickling down his cheeks. Yuuri looks at him, aghast, gives a lopsided smile. There’s a look in the brunettes eye and Viktor knows it’s one of understanding. It’s saying, you don’t need to tell me. I already know.

Viktor gives a look back. What about you?

I do.

?

Title: Have Mercy on Me

Genre: Romance, Friendship, future Smut

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x Reader

part one | part two | part three | part four

_____________________________________________________________

It was a ramen shop.

You concluded as you took a seat, shrugging your coat off and hanging it on the back of your chair.

Still angry, you hadn’t even looked at him. However, he didn’t seem like that bothered him much.

Keep reading

||❥ out of the woods (m)

j u n ! s c e n a r i o

v a m p i r e ! a u

words: 5k

genre: ye old smut, some fluff, the usual lol

synopsis: jun has been restricted from the pure taste of blood for too long, and decides that on halloween night should he actually do something about it. also in memory of the vamp!jun series i never finished,, r.i.p


It was during the time of Halloween that a certain perilous vampire would turn his fangs of white ice upon the town streets, fingers curling unbridledly in his pockets and eyes so smoulderingly black they could be a blanket for the stars. He would untuck himself from whereabouts never revealed and slick back his soft ashy hair, parted lips allowing his tongue to taste the fresh dew that was lathered everywhere.

He could let his fangs unsheathe and gingerly poke into his mouth, he could languidly step behind a clump of children and let his irises cloud a frosty white. They thought he was just taking interest in the eventful night, like he was dressing up to resemble some ancient book character, when really this vampire wasn’t made from silvery contacts or plastic teeth, he was more than real and his desire for blood had struck like a bolt of lightning.

The only reason the vampire could walk around on a night like Halloween and not want to sink his jagged pearls into someone’s flesh was due to the fact he’d already gotten his fix. He’d consumed enough liquid copper to last up to a week, a week where he could be among human life and not want to lacerate into their delicate tissue. Yet a certain incident left the boy in a state of complete opposition. His desire for blood was skyrocketing, and it was a challenging task to keep his solid pace and not lash out at the little folk around him.

Usually Halloween was one of the only days in a year that he let himself walk fully exposed up and down the streets, nobody would suspect him, nobody would try to stab a stake of wood through his chest. He got a lot of crooned compliments whenever he hovered in one corner of town for too long, leaning against a thick oak trunk while fluttering his glittery stare toward the moon.

Your fangs look so real! Are they really plastic?

Jesus, those contacts look like they’re your actual eyes.

That’s a pretty simple yet convincing costume you got there.


And the vampire would just grin toothily and wind his way through the conversation with nothing but the wholehearted truth. Of course not a single soul would ever believe the words rolling off his tongue, not when his lips quirked into that deceitful smirk after their faces momentarily grew stiff. It was Halloween, people liked to dress up as things that didn’t exist, and according to them, he was as much as a real vampire as that one girl down the street was a fluffy purple unicorn.

Yet there happened to be one individual in town that this darkened boy was well aquatinted with, and they knew perfectly well what he was, and what he so often craved.

“I’m sorry, I turned off all my lights cause I don’t have any candy-”

A pause, the process, and then the reaction.

“Jun? What are you doing here- and holy shit why are you walking around with your fangs out and eyes all glowey?”

You couldn’t be more appalled as to why this hunk of shadows was letting every man, woman, and child be coveted to his appearance, and more importantly why his leader was letting him frolic around as such. But Jun, not to your complete surprise, just stifled a yawn that pressed up from his throat and let himself into your house, the distant squeals of mirthful children now becoming mute as the door kicked shut. You could have cloaked him in your sighs and questions that always traveled like a spool of thread, yet you decided to let him wander.

Jun rarely approached you unless he wanted something.

Keep reading

Lighten Up

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,334

Summary: Dean and the reader’s relationship is strained because of the Mark of Cain. He decides to make the reader have some Winter fun. 

Request by: @chaos-and-the-calm67


“Who ate all my Oreos?” You whine moping into the library.

“Guilty.” Sam chuckles making you smile and roll your eyes at the handsome dork.

You then glare at Dean who’s purposely ignoring you as he plays some stupid game on his iPhone.

“Not cool, Dean!” You say loudly making his head snap in your direction.

Keep reading

Sammy Hates His Life

I like writing Sammy, so I decided to take a crack at @yunisverse‘s version. The one where he isn’t dead, here, and Henry’s a formless blob of ink. 

Rubberhose AU belongs to @yunisverse


Sammy wasn’t sure why he’d come back. He didn’t even like working at Sillyvision, not really. So why had he decided to answer Joey’s letter? Why had he decided to come back to the studio? He wasn’t about to admit to himself that he missed his job. He’d liked being around people like Susie and Henry, and even Joey to a certain extent. Susie had been a good coworker, always respectful of his space, but concerned enough to drag him out when the need arose. Henry had been a good boss, generally keeping to himself. He’d understood Sammy’s need to be alone when it came to his work. Joey had been…something special. He’d paid well at the very least, and he’d even left Sammy alone most of the time. The one thing he hadn’t missed though, was the ink. The second he entered the studio, he groaned. There was ink everywhere. He couldn’t take a single step without stepping in some kind of puddle of ink.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi:) Can you write a scenario where you use a vibrator on DK??

I really hope this is at least close to what you wanted omg + rip this was my first smut in a while I hope it’s okay (this is a great way to start a new year)

I tried to keep this a bit more gender neutral - hopefully that’s welcome and I succeeded at least to some extent! and because I wasn’t sure which way to go, this includes >>both external and internal use of the vibrator<<, so if you’re not into the latter one, you might want to stop reading when the external use comes to an end!


The sight in front of you was absolutely marvellous, and all you could do was part your lips in appreciation as your fingertips dragged down your boyfriend’s toned torso. He writhed a little under your touch, his breath heavy and his eyes glassy and desperate, and your lips stretched into a smirk.

“Are you getting sensitive?” you asked, voice just that teasing, and got a rapid nod from Seokmin, accompanied by a needy whine when your finger stopped right below his belly button. Clearly, he’d rather had it go further down. Your smirk only got more prominent at that. “Good.”

Now, back to the beautiful sight in front of you, which was was your boyfriend. But not just that: his wrists were bound together and held up with a rope that was tied to the top of the headboard, his ankles held down by scarves that were fastened to the bed posts at the foot of the bed, and his cock was hard and leaking against his abdomen as the result of all the time you had spent teasing him while whispering dirty things right into his ear.

His mind had been and still was full of the mental images of how hard you’d make him cum, how you were desperate to have him deep inside of you and how you’d let him do almost anything to you. But not that night, except for the part where you’d make him cum hard.

Seokmin’s hips were starting to buck up restlessly, so you leaned down to kiss his chest slowly and finally allowed your fingertips travel low enough to wrap them around his cock. He hissed and screwed his eyes shut, your name slipping through his lips when he finally got the touch he so much needed. You almost chuckled while sucking a light hickey to his chest, a bit above his right nipple.

With him succumbing to pleasure under your ministrations and a series of soft yeses slipping through his lips, you moved your eyes to the silver-colored bullet vibrator that you had by your side. The memory of Seokmin finding your toy stash replayed in your mind, and it had you biting your lower lip a little.

His eyes had glinted in excitement when he had rummaged through them all, some of the toys making him raise his eyebrows and some making him gasp. He had accidentally turned on the particular bullet vibrator that was now next to you on the bed, and you’d never forget his voice when he had spoken, his eyes sparkling when he had turned to look at you. His voice had been so shaky yet determined, like he was already imagining more than a few things.

“Can we use this on me sometime?”

And so the sometime had come, and you were both embracing the moment. Seokmin had been rather impatient all day, and had quite likely never hardened as fast as he did when you stroked him while making out, and told him just what you’d do with the vibrator. It fed your own imagination just as much as it did Seokmin’s, and the way he had grunted at some parts of your description had only made the knot in the pit of your stomach tighter.

You ran your palm over the very tip of Seokmin’s length, which made his hips buck up and a strangled groan rip from his throat. A grin spread to your lips. “Are you ready?”

His smirk was painfully hot, like it always was, and he gave you a meaningful raise of his eyebrow. “Never been readier.”

Even when tied up, you felt like he had a sense of authority to him. With a quick nibble on your lower lip, you decided that you’d have to do something about that, and let go of his cock. The pre-cum soon disappeared from your hand when you ran your tongue across your palm, your eyes locked with Seokmin’s as you withdrew your tongue back into your mouth, the string of pre-cum connecting it to your hand breaking in the process.

His gasp at your action made you feel triumphant - at least you knew his weaknesses.

Seokmin eyed you in interest when you took your underwear off before taking the vibrator into your hand. You stroked it slowly, as if inspecting it, and let out a content sound when you turned it on. Seokmin swallowed hard, his cock twitching at the mere thought of how the vibrator would feel against himself.

Moving your playful eyes from the toy to your boyfriend’s pair of glassy eyes, you smirked. “It’s time for some fun.”

While you might have set the vibrator on its lowest, even those gentle vibrations felt almost painfully strong to Seokmin.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped when the toy met his cock at the base, vibrating lightly against his shaft and balls. The knot in your stomach tightened at his reaction, and you brought the toy higher on him in curiosity: you wanted to see every last reaction of his.

“Do you like it?” you said, although it was almost obvious, your voice teasing yet easily giving away your own, gradually increasing lust. Not that you hadn’t been annoyingly turned on for a good while already, of course. Seokmin was shaking all over, his eyebrows furrowing and lips opening into one gasp after another as he moved his gaze between you and his length.

“Is that even a–” He groaned before he was able to finish his sentence when you pressed the vibrator to the sensitive head of his cock lightly. With his hips bucking up and you pressing them back down into the bed with a small grin tugging at your lips, Seokmin panted heavily. His voice was as shaky as his body when he finally managed to answer you. “Is that even a question, holy shit.”

The smirk wouldn’t leave your face, but you didn’t mind. The sight was getting a bit too much, though, so rather than just being on your knees next to Seokmin, you sat on his left thigh and leaned down to kiss his chest. Being so close to his head, you could hear just how heavy yet shallow his breath was, although the quivering and heaving of his chest was quite a good indicator, too.

Allowing your tongue to glide on Seokmin’s toned chest, you took the vibrator off his cock and turned the power a bit higher. It wasn’t much stronger - you weren’t sure how much he could handle, so you didn’t dare to put it too high - but you could immediately hear and see the difference.

First you just dragged the toy up his inner thigh, which had both of his legs shaking. Considering that you were snugly sitting on one, it was quite an experience for you, too, with his leg stimulating your most sensitive parts in a way that almost got you distracted from the task at hand. Once you had collected yourself again, you pressed the vibrator back against Seokmin’s cock, ripping a strangled moan from him.

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he whimpered, his legs still shaking and his arms writhing as he struggled to keep his hips pressed to the mattress. It did impress you how well he was able to do that either way. You sat back up and licked your lips, adoring the sight in front of you. It had been quite a while since the last time you had seen him as such a desperate mess. If you weren’t mistaken, the last time had been when you had played around with his hands tied and a cock ring at the base of his length, and you had taken your sweet time bringing him to what you knew to be the most intense orgasm of his life, at least up til then.

“Please what?” you asked, the faux innocence of your voice in conflict with how you were starting to move your hips on his thigh, or how you teased the head of his cock with the merest tip of the vibrator. It was starting to get a bit sticky with his pre-cum, which only turned you on more.

“I don’t even know,” Seokmin admitted with another hiss as his hips bucked up, which alone almost made you moan, too.

You didn’t say anything back to him, and instead just continued moving the toy around his cock. You went up and down slowly, each and every reaction and noise coming from Seokmin registering in your senses. The shaking of his legs, the quietly uttered profanities, the thin layer of sweat that was starting to gather on his neck, the gradually increasing restlessness of his hips…

It was perfect.

With your fingers moving on Seokmin’s toned upper body again, you brought your fingers that were on the vibrator to the bottom, where you could adjust the settings. Seokmin was grunting quietly almost at a regular pace now, and you cleared your throat. “Do you still want to try stronger?”

He lifted his head from the soft pillow he had buried it into, panting, and nodded.

“Remember not to come until I give you the permission,” you mumbled with a smile and leaned down to kiss your boyfriend at the same time as you turned the power even higher. His loud moan was caught by your lips, and the contracting of his abs didn’t go unnoticed by your fingers.

Oh, how you were enjoying the situation, and definitely not only because his thigh proved out to be almost better than a vibrator, still continuously shaking underneath you and rubbing against you. “I’m not sure if I say this enough, but god do I love your thighs.”

Seokmin chuckled at your mumbled words against his lips, and you pulled back from the kiss. Before you were able to retreat too much, Seokmin called your name. Raising your eyebrows in question, you brought the vibrator to the base of his cock.

“I’m… could we…” It was obvious he was trying to find the strength to both form a full sentence without his voice giving in too much and to say something. You kissed his neck lightly, and in an attempt to help him out a little, moved the toy away from him altogether. At that, Seokmin let out an almost relieved sigh. “Do you think we could try that inside, too?”

To say you were a bit blown away by the question would be an understatement, but judging by the pleading look on Seokmin’s face, he was not kidding.

“Like–”

“I’ve heard it feels good, especially if you find the right spot,” he explained quickly, still appearing as determined and serious as ever. You nodded slowly and played with the thought a little, and as soon as the image of Seokmin riding out an orgasm like that, you were sold - not that you would’ve rejected the idea otherwise, either.

“Yeah, sure,” you said hurriedly and turned the toy off before putting it aside for a while. You leaned down to kiss him again, one of your hands cupping his cheek and your tongue tickling his lips. “I’ll untie your ankles.”

He kissed you back hungrily, visibly frustrated that he couldn’t have his hands on you while doing so, but nodded either way. The kiss didn’t end too soon, though, as you took your time calming him down a little while enjoying the passionate kisses, where you got to be the more dominant party with your tongue dancing with his and your hands moving on his body.

“Alright,” you said dazedly when you had broken away from the kiss, and although you were hesitant to leave his thigh, you stood up and untied Seokmin’s ankles and got lube from the very same box where you kept your toys. You knew Seokmin had some somewhere, too, but you thought it was easier to just get your own than look for his.

Within the short time you had spent getting the lube, Seokmin had gotten his feet pressed on the mattress and his knees bent, legs open. While the sight was on the rarer side, it was definitely inviting, and you felt blood rushing to your lower body as you returned to the bed.

“Do you think two fingers is enough?” you asked while opening the cap of the tube of lube and eyeing the vibrator on the bed, trying to figure out how much prepping was necessary; the toy was by no means big, but then again you also knew that there was no such thing as too much prepping. Seokmin looked thoughtful, and you smiled at how thrilled he seemed about the prospect of having something tickling his prostate.

“Ah, uh,” he muttered, and laughed a bit nervously. You stroked his knee gently in an attempt to reassure him. “Let’s go with two, but if it looks like it, add a third?”

You nodded and took a comfortable position on the bed between his legs and squeezed some lube onto your fingers. Seokmin shuddered when you smeared some of it around his hole and began teasing his tight rim with the merest tip of your forefinger, which wasn’t all that difficult to slide inside. As soon as you heard his breath hitch, you brought your free hand to his cock and stroked him to distract him from the intrusion.

Little by little, you slid your finger in and wiggled it a little before just keeping it in place while your other hand was on Seokmin’s length. He was tense around the digit, but eventually his contorted features began relaxing, much like his hole relaxed around your finger. The first slow thrusts had him hissing, but you took your time making him relaxed and focusing more on the pleasure by kissing his inner thighs and moving your fingers on his cock.

With the hisses turning into quiet moans, you got some more lube on your fingers and began easing a second finger in slowly once you had stretched him enough. He hissed again, which you only took as a sign to continue stroking him steadily. It took a while, but eventually you had three fingers moving slowly in and out of him, and he was moaning and his toes were curling when your fingertips massaged his prostate.

While dragging your lips on his shaft, you slowly pulled your fingers out of him and wiped them on a tissue you grabbed from your nightstand. Seokmin panted and relaxed on the bed, but got attentive again when he could see you reaching for the vibrator.

“So you’re gonna like, put it in now?” Seokmin asked, his head raised a little so that he could see at least something of what was going on. You smiled and stroked his thigh while nodding.

“Kinda, yeah,” you replied with a soft chuckle, and began teasing his slick hole with the tip of the vibrator, which you had gotten a nice amount of lube on. With the earlier prepping, the conveniently sized vibrator slid in without too much of a problem, although you did see and feel Seokmin tense up. Your hand moved soothingly up and down his thigh, and soon you wrapped your fingers around his cock again, stroking it steadily.

“That feels kinda good,” he grunted, his eyes still shut, and bucked his hips up on instinct. A grin spread to your lips as you ran your thumb over the head of his dick while languidly moving the vibrator, still off, inside of him. The noises that left his pretty, parted lips went straight between your legs.

“Oh, yeah?” you chuckled and turned your head so that you could press a kiss to Seokmin’s right thigh and nibble on the sensitive skin lightly. “Well, baby, it’ll only get better from here.”

The smirk on his face was absolutely beautiful, and you loved the way it quickly transformed into an ‘o’ when you turned the vibrator on and slid it out of him before pushing it back in slowly, searching for his prostate.

“Shit,” Seokmin breathed heavily, his toes curling and legs starting to quiver; when his back arched and he let out a loud groan, you could deduce you had found what you were looking for.

It was fascinating, really, to see the effect it had on him to have a vibrator pressed against his prostate. He was unable to be silent and his body could hardly stay still - even if he was able to keep his hips somewhat down, his chest was heaving and abs contracting, and his cock was occasionally twitching with the stimulation you were giving him.

All in all, you could hardly keep your hands off yourself.

You took your time like that, stroking Seokmin in different places. If your hand wasn’t on his length, it was on his stomach, thigh or ass, while you kept the vibrator mostly still. Seokmin’s cheeks were even more flushed than they had been before, and he could barely be silent for more than a second as his lips continued letting out moans, grunts and hisses.

“You look beautiful like this,” you said, voice almost shaky with lust, and took Seokmin’s cock into your hand to swirl your forefinger on his slit. He had a small pool of pre-cum on his stomach by now, and his hips bucked up immediately when you touched him.

“I-I bet you would, too,” he managed, his lower body tensing with the build-up of his orgasm while he pictured you in his position. He groaned desperately as he held it back, which was gradually getting more difficult with how swollen his prostate was and how damn needy he was for his climax. If nothing else told it, it had to be the way you could start hearing “Please” through his noises.

You bent down and kissed him at the base of his length, your eyes staring at his face intently. “You can cum now, baby.”

With a long groan and his hips bucking up high, Seokmin began releasing onto his stomach and your fingers while you stroked him through it, the toy still vibrating against his spot. He was squirming as pleasure washed all over him, and a blissful smile spread to his lips. You took in the way the cum covered his skin, the way his facial muscles began relaxing little by little but his abs continued to tense, and the way his eyes began fluttering open, only to shut again when he began whimpering with how sensitive he was. Smiling to yourself, you sat up and let the vibrator slide out of him with ease, your hand leaving his sensitive length alone, too.

“Thank you,” Seokmin said breathlessly, his legs falling straight again. You put the toy down on the tissue you had wiped your fingers on earlier and moved up on the bed, freeing Seokmin’s wrists and kissing them before lying down next to him.

“I’m glad to see you enjoyed it,” you purred and leaned down to kiss him while your hand slid between his legs and you circled his clenching hole with your finger lightly. “I assume this won’t be a one-time thing?”

He thought for a while and pecked your lips, an almost sheepish smile climbing to his lips. “Probably not, if that’s fine.”

You nodded with a smile and were about to say something when Seokmin had already flipped you over and was sitting lightly on top of your thighs, looking down at you with intense eyes. His fingers began sliding underneath your shirt. “Would you be in for some experimenting, too?”

Running your hands up and down on Seokmin’s thighs before wrapping them around his neck and pulling him down, you smirked. “Some other time, sure. Right now I just need you to make me cum.”

And he did. Twice.


Admin Scooter

She’s Something Else

Chapter 7
“Not Too Insane For You“

{MasterList}

Word Count: 1,894

Beta: @abbessolute & @idreamofhazel​ [LOVE YA SISTERS!]

WARNING: FLUFF, ANGST, EXPLICIT LANGUAGE, DEATH THREATS

Summary: Reader, despite the voice’s protests and threats, decides to open up to Sam about everything, ready to seek the help that Sam has been desperately offering. Sam starts to sees her in a different light.

A/N: Some of you on my tag list aren’t coming up. I’m not sure if it’s Tumblr being a douchebag again or if it’s more on my end. But I recommend that, if you want to ensure you’re tagged properly, double check your blog name on the list to make sure it’s spelled right. Hoping that fixes it.

To say you were exhausted was an understatement.

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Shape of You

Title : Shape of You

Pairing : Castiel X Reader

Word Count : 2,800

Prompt : based on the song Shape of You by Ed Sheeran. Castiel has been an angel for thousands of eons, having a real vessel is still a little new to him. Not only that, but he has never taken the real opportunity to admire other human’s vessels. When he notices you for the first time, his reaction leads to a pleasant experience for the both of you. (not my gif)

“Oh come on, one more round on me!”

You let out a happy laugh as Dean lifted his now empty shot glass at you. “I think you’ve had enough for one night, Winchester.”

“Nnnope.” Dean drew out his denial with a sloppy grin, setting down his shot glass rather roughly. He wiggled his brows at you, a flirtatious gleam in his green eyes. “I am just getting started.” He turned away from you with an attempt at a charismatic smirk at a hot bartender that sauntered by.

You shook your head hopelessly. You were a bit tipsy yourself, but even in that state you had to admit Dean’s sloppy charisma was still way sexier than most sober men’s.

You looked down at your drink with a blushing smile. The alcohol was burning down in the pit of your chest, making your vision just a tiny bit fuzzy and your fingers just a tiny bit tingly. You looked to Sam for some help, but the younger Winchester was even sloppier than his older brother. Sam tended to avoid drinking on the usual occasion, therefore when he tried to keep up with his brother, he ended up the way he was now, giggling uncontrollably as he laughed with a guy and two girls at the bar a few seats away from you.

You looked around. This bar was one of your usual spots, and it wasn’t so bad, honestly. It was a good place to hang out with the gang on a good day, and after a successful salt and burn yesterday, you and the Winchesters found its glowing neon sign a little hard to resist on the drive back to the motel.

You looked around. The place was packed, and considering it was the only bar in the small town, you weren’t surprised. The air seemed thick with sexual tension and you smirked as you took in the ratio of men to women.

There were bodies everywhere.

A few men were struggling to talk their way into a booth with three younger women behind you, and by the door two other guys were starting to raise their voices as a girl struggled to stop the fight before it started. You turned to the left and stopped when you saw a young man and woman in the far corner, kissing. You tilted your head to the side as you watched them; the man wrapping his hand around her waist pulling her to his hips, his mouth open and passionate on her lips, his other hand tangling in her loose curls. She had her fists knotted in his collar, her neck strained to the side to kiss him back with equal fervor.

You felt a tiny blossom of heat tickle in your ribcage as you watched them kiss for a minute, your fingers tapping on the rim of your bottle.

You hadn’t ever really thought about how intimate a bar could be. In the end, it was better than the club. You looked away as the man’s hands began to roam down the woman’s chest, feeling blush rise to your cheeks for staring. In a bar, people were somehow more approachable.

More welcoming.

You let out a gasp as a man staggered into you with an apologetic smile before he kept walking toward the restrooms. You pushed your hair behind your ear with hot cheeks, trying to hide a smile.

People were more human.

You felt a familiar tingle run down your spine and you turned your head.

Blue eyes were watching you from across the room. You smiled, feeling your heart stutter in your chest. You hopped down from your barstool and headed toward the other end of the bar. You made your way up to the trench-coated figure sitting by himself on the far end of the room, trying to hold his blue gaze as you moved toward him.

The moment he realized you had caught him staring, the blue eyes shot downward.

You almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

You stopped a few feet away from the body at the end of the bar. “Hey, Cas.” Your tongue felt a little heavy in your mouth, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. Your face felt hot, but you didn’t mind.

Castiel didn’t react instantly to your voice. Instead he stared down at the beer that Dean had bought for him when he first arrived. He shifted and slowly dragged his dazzling blue gaze up to yours. “Hello.”

You smiled, trying to hold back a giggle at his serious tone. You gestured to the empty stool next to his. “Mind if I join you?”

Cas stiffened a tiny bit. “No.”

You almost laughed then. “Cas…” Your tone made him look up and into your eyes. You threw back your head with a light laugh. “Why are you always so serious?”

Castiel stared into your eyes for a long moment. You both smiled at the same time, and you had to look away to stifle a giggle. “I am not always serious.” He mumbled, smiling sheepishly down at his drink.

You reached out and lightly tugged his arm, smiling at him with a soft expression. “Are you having fun?”

There was a pause.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

You looked him over. Maybe it was because you had taken one too many sips of your drink, maybe it was the song that just started to play through the joint, or maybe it was just him, but Castiel seemed to glow in that light. Literally. He was glowing.

You cocked your head to one side, looking at him.

He was something else. You had never met another man who captivated you so entirely as he did. It had to be his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes. Maybe it was his body. He had an incredible one, you had to admit. He was gorgeous, even though he was wrapped up into too many layers of clothes.

“What are you doing?”

You blinked, shaken from your day dreaming state by Castiel’s rough, low voice. Only then did you realize he had caught you staring. You cleared your throat and tried to take a drink to divert his attention, but this was Cas. He had the lazer-like focus, and now, all his attention was on your face, his face soft and curious.

“I…I was admiring your…face.” You let out a laugh as your words tumbled out uselessly as a wave of heat flushed to your face. You shook your head. “That sounded stupid.”

You blinked up to see Cas studying your face, his eyes softer than usual.

When he didn’t reply, you looked away, a little embarrassed. “What?”

His lips parted for a moment. “I—” He looked at you with his piercing gaze, his focus curious and contemplative. “I’ve never been told that before.”

You frowned. “Come on, Cas. I have only been hunting with you idiots for a few weeks, but that doesn’t mean I don’t notice how girls stare you down wherever you go.”

Castiel was still. “Girls stare?” He repeated softly, his blue eyes narrowed in confusion.

You blinked at him. “Uh, yeah.” You smirked when he stared at you, dumbfounded. “Wait, you mean to tell me you didn’t notice those girls at the door tonight either?”

Castiel swiveled on his seat to look at the two young women by the door, his eyes wide.

“Don’t look!” You snapped with a giggle, slapping him. He flinched, but his eyes went from confused to pleasant in a fraction of a second.

“They were?”

For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond to the angel. You would have laughed at him, had he not sounded so shocked. Finally you swallowed and shook your head with a smile at your shoes. “I mean, who wouldn’t? You’re hot.”

The moment the words left your lips you felt shock rush to the pit of your stomach with a pang. Shit. Did you seriously just say that?

“I mean…nothing.” You tried to save yourself, but it failed uselessly and you looked down at your drink, trying not to blush. When nothing happened, you dared to sneak a glance at Cas. You found him staring at you, his blue eyes deep and thoughtful and clearly taking in your features in slow precision.

“Why are you staring at me?” You hiccupped, feeling the heat in the pit of your stomach work into a bright red blush on your face.

There was a moment of silence as your eyes met Castiel’s. Finally his perfect lips parted and his voice fell from his chest, low, gruff and thick. “I’ve never looked at you before.”

You frowned at his words. “What?”

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When Showers Fail to Clean You

Author’s Note: I was literally taking a shower, shampooing my hair when I got this idea. Like, I could totally go for some shower loving, but alas, my shower is too tiny! Ah well, a girl can dream. Ignis X fem reader, NSFW, 2817 words.

When the two of you shopped for a new place to live, Ignis had two stipulations: a large bedroom, and a decent-sized shower. The bedroom request made sense. There was no hiding the fact that the two of you tended to spend more time in the bedroom than any other place in the house. Neither of you could keep your hands off each other long enough to occupy any of the other rooms for too long. Sometimes, he took you right then and there, wherever you happened to be, bedroom be damned.

You assumed his other stipulation would be a cavernous kitchen. Aside from the bedroom, Ignis Scientia spent a great deal of time concocting new recipes and whipping up magnificent dinners for the two of you. You were shocked when he mentioned the need for a roomy shower.

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Fingers (Luke smut) DAY 4!

Summary: Luke comes back from the studio and his fingers go for a walk… ;)

Warnings: This is smut! (fingering) 

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Inspired by this blurb! (ALSO THIS GIF I’M FUCKING SOBBING) 

This is one of my favourite smuts that I’ve written for Smutty September so I really hope you enjoy reading it because I’m in love w the concept :)

Originally posted by angelofficals

Luke disappeared to the studio while you were asleep this morning, leaving you slightly irritated and lonely when you woke up. Even though you’re used to his absence, with Luke being a famous musician and all, it doesn’t help the pang that fills your chest every morning you wake up alone.

When you’d checked your phone you found a text from him, apologising for his absence and promising to be back by the afternoon, a string of thoughtful emojis mixed throughout. You’d sighed and gone back to sleep, your plans of having a lazy day with him reduced to a boring day by yourself.

It’s now, around 4pm, that you hear Luke arrive back home. You’re laying on your double bed, phone held between your fingers as you scroll through instagram. A feeling of irreversible boredom has been spread through you for the past few hours, your afternoon drearily lacking excitement. 

“Honey, I’m home!” You can’t hold back the smile that covers your face the moment your hear your boyfriend’s cheerful tone. Listening carefully, you hear Luke unzipping his jacket and hanging it up. 

His heavy footsteps plod towards the bedroom, your body full of happiness as you sit up and toss your phone to the side. “Hey, babe,” You greet, Luke entering the room a moment later. 

The joy written across his face as he sees you is so pure it makes your heart skip a beat. The love you share is so pure- so overwhelmingly passionate it never fails to bring up your mood. 

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Ephemeral

Originally posted by ashtonxbts

Fuckboy!Jimin x reader

Word count: 13K

Angst, smut/ Soulmate AU, Frat boy AU

It was around the time warm layers between summer and fall melted the shades of orange cinnamon and green leaves together, days falling behind and time starts to pack up. School had started, drawing a line of students prepping and studying for future exams, overwhelming majority of the last month of break. A cool, succumbed breeze brushed by when she stepped into his life by a step into a small cafe, welcoming her with a genuine smile from ear to ear as he offered her to sit with him.

Little specks and smears of coffee stain the brown napkins, soaking up the sticky liquid as it absorbs into the thick sheet of tissue from her arm. Apologetic whines and hands caressing her wrist made her throw her head back and laugh at the sincerity of the boy holding the girl. She really thought it was just the smell of coffee draining into her head, blistering her cheeks from her unforgettable smiles and giggles that formed.

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3

Let’s Christmas! 🎄☃

Inspired by @book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure:
2. Sneaking out in the middle of the night with _____ to play in the snow.
Request from @daughterofautumn.

Words: 1699
Warnings: none

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🔷 Studying with Taehyung

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Summary: ”I know! We will undress each other instead of taking shots!“ he screamed like a child and you immediately imagined yourself sitting only in underwear, asking Taehyung what eutrophication was.“ 

Studying gone wrong.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader 

Genre: smut / humour (?)

Words: 4k 

A/N: kinky shit for y’all.  I apologize for any errors.

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