You stared up at the smug King of Hell as he lounged on his
throne, smirking. He slowly rubbed his light stubble as one of his minions
rambled on about soul collections and demons who went rogue. But the King’s
mind was elsewhere. His hazelnut eyes flicked over to you every few minutes,
dark and hungry.
“Get to the point!” He roared, refocusing on the babbling
The minion stammered and scrambled, terrified that he would
end up like the last poor demon who stood before Crowley. “Sir, numbers are
dropping, and we need your guidance.”
Crowley rolled his eyes and snarled. “You want me to fix your incompetence? Ha! Why don’t you go out there and bloody try harder!” With the wave of his
hand, the demon disappeared, leaving the two of you alone.
The King lifted himself from his seat, his eyes locked on
you. He gently tugged on the lapel of his suit jacket as he descended the few
steps and glided over to you.
“Do we have an agreement, or not?” You snapped. You hated
coming to the overly cocky salesman for help, especially since being anywhere
near him made you feel downright sinful.
But, he was your last hope. “What’s in it for you, anyway?” you snapped, trying
to keep your distance. It was hard, feeling how his close proximity made your
entire body tingle.
Crowley chuckled as he moved a straight hair from your face.
“I help you get the boys out of their pickle,” he whispered as his finger
traced your jaw line, “and I can cash in the numerous favors you already owe
me.” He huffed a laugh as his eyes locked on yours. “In exchange for anything.” His eyebrow raised, making
your stomach flutter.
You licked your lips, trying to make it look like it was a
tough decision. But, the truth was, you knew what he was thinking. And all you
wanted him to do was shove you up against the wall and take you as he wanted. “Fine.”
You extended your hand.
Crowley bit his lip as he stared down at your hand. “Oh,
darling, that’s not how it’s done.” The King smirked as he closed in on you. “My
deals are sealed with a kiss.”
“What?” you scoffed. “I’m not selling fucking my soul, Crowley.”
“Protocol, love.” He leaned in, holding his lips just inches
from yours. “If the King doesn’t obey the rules, who will?”
Your eyes shot down to his lips briefly before meeting his
eyes again. “Huh,” was all you could get out before his lips were on yours.
But, this wasn’t a deal sealing kiss. No. This was hungry, demanding. His tongue
dominated your mouth as he slowly walked you backwards, pressing you against
the brick wall behind you.
Crowley lifted his lips from yours, keeping his face close. “I’d
like to cash in on one of those favors.”
Your jaw trembled as heat rose in your core. “I think that
can be arranged,” you breathed as he pressed his erection against your clothed
Crowley’s hand gripped your hip as his lips found the soft
spot on your neck, his stubble causing a sweet burn. His lips traced up your
skin, finding the tender patch of skin just below your ear. “Good.”
“Mmm–” your eyes lit up, satisfied with the thin creamy substance you swiped off your fingers. The sounds you were making with your mouth were obscene. Your tongue drifted along your lip, coated in the white color. Jin cleared his throat, trying hard to tear his eyes off your mouth, trying hard to listen to the tick of the clock over the wet lapping sounds that floated innocently off your tongue.
You dipped two fingers and brought them to your lips, again cleaning them deliciously. Jin clenched his jaw, his dull nails unconsciously curling into his palm. “Can you put that down–” he blurted, sounding angrier than he intended.
Your eyebrows knit together and your lips fell to a pout. “What? It tastes good.” To be fair, you had no idea what he was imagining that you were doing.
“There won’t be any left for the cinnamon rolls,” Jin grumbled, his hands slipping into the pockets of his sweatpants. He winced, wishing he could just relieve himself somehow. He continued to watch you intently. Your pink tongue was so thorough. The thought wouldn’t leave his head.
The three minutes feel a lot like three hours. Scully shifts uncomfortably, pressing her thighs together in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the aching tension, and to protect Leyla’s leather interior from the pool of arousal soaking through her panties – and probably through the slinky material of her dress. When she chances a glance at Leyla, she sees a ticking jaw and knuckles popping white against the steering wheel. She feels a surge of excitement at the knowledge that Leyla is just as impatient as she is.
The car finally comes to a stop in front of an apartment building, which Scully vaguely recognizes as being a couple thousand rent dollars out of her budget. She opens her own door and is stepping out of the car when Leyla appears in front of her.
Scully groans helplessly as Leyla’s fingers push into the dip of her lower back, bringing their bodies together. Their lips connect, and Leyla catches Scully’s bottom lip roughly between her teeth. “Inside,” Scully gasps against Leyla’s mouth as she struggles for air.
Sun-kissed shoulders and golden strands of hair lightly blowing with the wind. Tiny freckles painting the small tender patch of skin on her shoulders.
He feels like reaching out to brush his fingers over it ever so slowly, smiling at the simple thought of her softness and warmth beneath his lips. Of the wonderful sigh of surprise she’d let out at the mere contact, just a whisper of a touch but so much more for him.
Yes, basked in this sunset glow, the now-comfortably warm sand beneath his skin, Oliver allows himself to admit he has a thing for her shoulders. That his eyes gravitate towards the way she navigates a room, so petite yet commanding with her ever-present strength that is as inspiring as terrifyingly scary at times. That he’s maybe purposely reached out to her that way, a tap so fast that could go unnoticed –except it didn’t, by her, as anything does–, but that leaves an echoing effect to his whole being.
In the calm surrounding this moment, his eyes are focused on them, on her, on everything before his eyes that helps him breathe a little easier.
You huffed rolling over on your side, trying desperately to
ignore the throbbing between your legs. This had been happening a lot more than
usual. You’d be ready to fall asleep until this overwhelming intense throbbing
sensation took its place between your legs. You’d be left all hot and bothered
all night long, you’d gotten zero sleep because of it this week. You were too embarrassed
to say something to anyone, and you didn’t know the first thing when it came to
fixing the problem yourself.
You were so innocent, and you’d never pleasured yourself.
Let alone thought about pleasuring yourself. You clamped your legs tightly
together hoping the feeling would waver away, but that didn’t help it only made
the situation worse. You sighed and got under your covers prepared to just bear
with the new feeling and head to bed until you heard tapping on your bedroom
Already knowing it was your best friend Ethan you unlocked
the window and raised it allowing him to climb in. His parents had been arguing
a lot lately and even mentioned divorce. With his twin brother away for sports,
and his sister off at college Ethan was stuck dealing with it alone. So he
started coming over on nights when it was really bad and just slept on your
floor. It didn’t bother you, because you were so close.
“Hey.” You mumbled tiredly as you handed him a pillow and a
“Hey.” He mumbled under his breath trying to hide the
emotion behind his stone expression.
“You want to talk about it?” You asked plopping back down
on your bed.
“It’s fine.” He said laying down on the floor.
You accepted that he didn’t want to talk and just laid back
That night that feeling between your legs kept you up all
night. You had been tossing and turning all night trying to find a comfortable
position. You had really soft sheets so the noise was keeping Ethan up with
you. You groaned in frustration as you mushed your face in your pillow.
“Y/N?” Ethan called out.
“Hmph?” You asked sitting up a little.
“Are you okay, you’re moving around a lot?” He questioned.
You sighed and turned on your lamp and sat up completely.
“Promise you won’t laugh?” You asked looking straight at
He chuckled “Of course.” He answered concerned.
“Lately…Lately I’ve been having this weird feeling.” You
“Elaborate.” He said rubbing at his eyes.
“I um…I’ve been having this feeling down there.” You
He stared at you for a second before realizing what you
He put a hand over his mouth silencing his laughs and
You threw your pillow at him and crossed your arms.
“You said you wouldn’t laugh.” You whined.
“Wait…Wait I’m sorry.” He said between laughs.
“Ethan, I’m worried. What if there’s something wrong with
me?” You said worriedly.
“Don’t worry it’s natural.” He said standing and walking
over to you and sitting next to you on the bed.
“This is embarrassing.” You said putting your head down your
cheeks turning rosy.
He lifts your chin up and smiles.
“Nothing’s wrong with you, it’s perfectly normal to feel
this way from time to time.” He smiles stroking your cheek with his thumb.
“Thanks Ethan.” You smiled.
“Let me help you.” He said with a serious face.
“E-Ethan we’re friends.” You stuttered.
“And friends help each other let me help you.” He said
scooting closer to you.
Without answering his question you swung your leg over his and
straddled his lap.
He pressed his lips against yours snaking his strong arms around
your waist. He pulled you onto the bed and flipped you both over so he was on
top. He looked down at you taking in your beauty, admiring your features. He
moved your hair out of the way and he kissed you again before working on your
neck. You took the opportunity of tangling your fingers in his hair. He grabbed
your thighs and wrapped them around his waist as he left a trail of kisses from
your neck to the valley of your breasts. He pushed himself off of you
momentarily to take his shirt off. That encouraged you to mimic him and pull
your shirt off.
You reached behind you to take off your bra but he removed
your hands and mumbled sweet nothings in your ear as he unlatched your bra
clasp allowing your breasts to fall free. You moved your hands to his belt
buckle and he kicked his pants off the rest of the way. He gently pushed you on
your back and came up to kiss you again. He left a trail of kisses from your
lips to the hem of your black spandex shorts.
He looked up at you searching your eyes for any sign of
hesitation. You nodded your head and he looped his thumbs in both your shorts
and underwear. He pulled them both down in one swift motion. He pushed your
legs back and spread them. You sat up a little, craning your neck to watch. He
reached up and held your hand before giving your bundle of sensitive nerves
soft kitten licks. You threw your head back as a wave of pleasure shook your
whole body. You wanted to clamp your legs together the pleasure becoming too
much for you all at once. But his strong arms held them back.
“Oh…my god…Ethan.” You moaned your body moving in sync
with his movements.
“Let go princess.” He said pushing two fingers into your
His deep raspy voice alone was enough to send you over the
“Oh…fuck Ethan..I-I’m.,” You couldn’t finish your
sentence because a feeling of pure euphoria swept through as all of the blood
in your body rushed to your core. You curled your toes and came on his fingers.
You panted heavily as he climbed back on top of you
He held both of your hands above your head as he aligned
himself up with your entrance. You’d been with one other person before and that
was almost a year ago so the feelings you were experiencing felt new. He carefully
pushed in allowing you to adjust. You let out a big sigh before motioning for
him to move. He rolled his hips into yours filling you up. It didn’t take long
for him to find the rough patch of tender muscles inside of you. You clamped a
hand over your mouth to silence your moans but he removed your hands and hushed
you with a kiss. You gripped onto his bicep as you writhed beneath him. His
thrusts were becoming sloppy and rougher and you knew he was close.
“Ethan…I’m close.” You whined.
“Cum for me Princess.” He encouraged.
He watched as your mouth formed and ‘o’ shape as you
He pulled out and came on the sheets beneath you before he
collapsed beside you.
“That was amazing Ethan.” You said panting.
“Anything for you Princess.” He mumbled tiredly.
You rolled over on your side and covered your naked bodies
with the duvet.
He pulled you into his arms the soft thump of his heart
beat against your skin lulling you to sleep.
“…So what’s the plan? Do we even have a plan?” You rubbed the grip of your sword, palms sweaty.
Loki leaned against the massive, mossy boot of a scowling dwarven statue flanking Erebor. “I will distract him, and you drive your sword through that fleshy bit on the beast’s chest.”
“We are not prepared. There are too many variables, too many unknowns-”
“I’m sure we will improvise as needed.”
Loki, ever the optimist.
A line of elven soldiers stood high on the mountains away from Erebor, their leader astride a white Elk. Thranduil and his men would be here to witness the deed, but not intervene. The thought of them abandoning you if ever there was a time of need irked you, but it was the terms Loki and Thranduil had agreed upon. Without you present.
You could have said no. Walked away from this ludicrous mission. You supposed Loki could have commanded you to do it regardless, but he had never forced his will upon you before.
Even if he would have no shot at killing the beast without you, he gave you a choice. And the promise of freedom.
Slay the dragon for me, and I will release you from your life-debt.
You sighed. Then you drew your sword, and stepped into the gaping crevice in the side of the mountain. You felt an invisible hand squeeze your shoulder, then the warmth of Loki’s breath near your ear.
“My talents are better hidden in shadow; even if you cannot see me, know that I am always near.”
“As opposed astral-projecting from a safe distance outside the mountain?” You snapped. Loki didn’t answer.
The stench of mold and decay hung ripe in the bowels of Erebor. You silently stepped past the charred, crumbling husks of dead dwarves down the ashen stone stairs to the treasure room. Gold gleamed and glittered, piled high and shimmered low like rolling hills far as the eye could see. For a moment you stood gaping at the hoard.
Such staggering wealth. Such insatiable greed.
The gold began to sweep and swell, like a rolling ocean of dazzling light, the clinking and tinkling growing louder and louder, until it was thunderous waterfall of gems and jewels and gold, revealing a puckered, leathery beast of burnt rust and blood, speckled with glints of melted gold. Its wings fanned out, wide and billowy like sails. Its talons were black and wickedly curved. Its jaws were the gates of hell; a yawn was all it took to melt the glitter of gold into a steeping pool of molten death.
You knew then, why the elves stayed far, far from the mountain.
You felt the shiver of adrenaline rush through your veins, let it wash over you and ignite your core. You felt your senses heighten, your entire flesh wound tight and ready. You grinned, feeling delicious. You had found your greatest adversary. If you died tonight, it would be worth the fight.
THIEF! It rumbled, its voice like the grating of iron. ASSASSIN!
You danced across the slick quicksand of cascading gold, and leapt onto the dragon’s tail. You could feel the radiating fury from his glowing scales. The creature was brutality and death encased in armor. As it twisted, you grabbed ahold of one of its bony spines, wrapping your legs around it tight and slamming your blade in the jagged spaced between its scales. It glanced off in a shower of sparks and snapped in half between shifting scales, the pieces clattering uselessly down the side of the beast and swallowed by the rush of gold below.
The tender spot at the serpent’s breast, then.
You leapt from one spine to the next, clinging for dear life as the monster writhed and roared, wings conjuring winds so fierce they threatened to rip you away.
THERE WILL BE NOTHING OF YOUR REMAINS BUT DUST!
You crawled down towards its shoulder as you would scale the side of a volcano. The world shook about you, your ears ringing from its bellows. Finally, you see it. A tender, pale patch nestled between two scales the size of palace gates. You only had one sword left; you had to make it count.
As you raised your blade, the beast screeched and smashed its claws down upon you, closing you in an iron grip.
I WILL POP YOU LIKE A TICK! It hissed, its claws bearing down and crushing you. You felt your shoulder crack, your left arm folding in on itself in a sickening crunch.
Valhalla, you thought. But you knew the gates would be closed for you. The traitor. The dishonored.
“Let’s make a trade, shall we?” Came a familiar voice. Then the beast bellowed. Through the crimson haze of pain, you are vaguely aware that all the treasure, the mountains of gold, were suddenly gone. All that was left was the bare, grey stone of the empty treasure chamber.
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! Smaug shrieked, its voice cracking. THIEF! The thought of losing all its treasure at once would likely drive it mad.
“Release the Valkyrie, and I shall restore your gold,” Loki said calming, his voice echoing in the empty chamber. It was Loki’s magic, you realized. Merely a mirage.
Suddenly you were tumbling through the air, down into darkness, fire, and stone. Landing in the warm, open arms of a familiar figure.
In your haze, you reached and touched his cheek. Then you blacked out.
you guys have been waiting for 3 weeks now so i think you deserve a little more than a snippet or a scant few lines. so heres the first scene from the chapter. im comfortable sharing it bcs theres like fucking 20 more pages lmao
A/N: Okay, so I saw this text post about forcing someone shy about saying the t-word to say “stop tickling me” to end a relentless tickle attack and I thought it was SUPER CUTE and we all know Dean is the dork who can’t say that word so this happened. And it’s Marina’s birthday!! Happy birthday, I hope you like this gift! ^.^ ~evanescent!anon
It’s the world’s worst-kept secret: Dean Winchester has a very ticklish tummy, and, though he’d never admit, loves having it—as well as the rest of him—tickled.
When Cas first discovered tickling, Dean futilely tried to conceal is excitement, demonstrating on Cas and all the while dropping subtle teases and hints in hopes of retaliation. He wasn’t disappointed. As it turned out, Cas was an expert tickler, and wasn’t above using his grace to torment Dean, though it was deemed ‘cheating’ long ago.
Lately, Cas had been noticing something rather peculiar. Dean seemed to be completely unable to utter the word ‘tickle’ or any variation thereupon. He had many clever workarounds—‘sensitive’ in place of ‘ticklish’, ‘it feels funny’ in place of ‘it tickles’, and so on. Upon this realization, Cas also took note of the fact that Dean turned red whenever he or Sam said the word.
A plan was forged in the angel’s mind to force Dean to blush and squirm so adorably. He was positively elated when Dean very intentionally plopped his feet on Cas’s legs during a movie they were watching in lieu of anything better to do. It was a normal habit; Dean knew he was going to be tickled, and Cas knew he knew, and it was a wordless exchange of giggly fun, in a sense.
Only today, Castiel thought, it won’t be wordless.
Cold air nipped at my bare shoulder like small chaste kisses
on a child’s forehead. The clear stained glass window directly across from the
bed was cracked open allowing waves of crisp fresh air to drift in and out. A
pair of lips latched onto my back catching me by surprise. George’s lips
vibrated against my skin as he chuckled. His arm was soon wrapped around my
waist pulling me down towards him so I was lying fully on my back.
“George! I was concentrating!” I mused scrambling away from him and staying
still on the far side of the mattress. George’s brown orbs opened in disappointment
reaching his hands and interlocking it with mine.
“I’m sure you had been. On what might I ask?” The bedsheets
tangled themselves up and all around our bodies molding us as one. I hummed
aimlessly forgetting my train of thought while I lost myself in his graceful
touch. George let his hand travel to my cheek, resting there for a second, brushing
a few loose strands away. Sucking in a deep breath, I resumed to his pervious
“I don’t know, stuff. I was also wondering about how no one
had caught us up here yet and how we managed to squeeze past the protection
spells and shields boarded all around these dorms.” Certain precautious bounds
had been set up by Dumbledore himself to reassure the students and staff that
no students of opposite sex were granted permission in the same bedrooms and dormitory
“Maybe we got lucky, there is a slight chance that there aren’t
any spells put up and Dumbledore only made up the rumor to scare us from trying.”
George offered thinking it through thoroughly. He had a point, I’d give him
that and I could really careless because if anything was up, we got past it so
all was well.
Sighing anxiously, I tossed over with my back to George and
pushed my body so it was firm pressed flat against his sculpted chest. A patch
of tender kisses settled along my neck like a trail of bread crumbs leading
back home, which George soon found as him lips met mine. I was taken aback by
the suddenness of affection and smiled into the kiss, repositioning myself
awkwardly so he could gain full access. George’s hands traced up and down my
side length sending tidal waves of shivers to cover me. I let my hand reach up
to his ginger hair and pulled faintly but harshly enough for a tingling moan to
leave his lips.
“Damn Destany, the things you do to me.” He stated securing
the blanket around the both of us. I laughed snuggling deeper into his side,
but it came out as more of a muffled sound due to the fleecy blanket coating
half of my face. George’s head stayed stationary on my own and his hands
located mine intertwining our fingers. The room no longer felt icy and empty,
in fact more alive than ever before. George spoke sweet nothings throughout the
rest of the evening and my mind drifted in and out of consciousness, his heart
melting words being the only vail to my awaking.
“You can sleep if you want. I don’t mind. I’ll carry you to
your room when Fred returns.” Rubbing my tired eyes I nodded again. The thought
of sleep felt like a long awaited vacation and I was taking the trip to Paris.
Closing my eyes, a gentle hand swept over my hair, drawing various shapes and
words onto my s/c back.
“Mmmhhh…. I love you George.” I made sure to squeak out
before full sleep overtook me. When no response was given I had halfly assumed
he couldn’t hear me and not much energy was left for me to repeat myself so I just
went with it. That was until a smooth voice spoke out,
“I love you too, Destany. Now get some sleep, my darling. I’ll
be here when you wake.”
The camper was dark when Medic arrived. It had taken him longer than he’d liked to finish patching everyone else up, and the last rays of sunlight glinted off the aluminium siding as the campsite finally came into view. The hour wasn’t terribly late as of yet, but Sniper had always been one to follow the rhythm of nature rather than the hands of a clock.
In his hand was a worn black bag. A relic of his past life, but one that had been rediscovered in the past few months when he’d somehow fallen in with a man who prefered folk remedies to actual science. Bandages and iodine, swabs and sutures, it had seemed like ages ago since he’d used anything so mundane.
There was a key in his pocket that unlocked the door and he stepped inside to the smell of sweat, dirt, and two day old coffee. Clothes were piled on the floor where they had been lazily discarded as their owner crawled his way to bed. In what little light remained, Medic could see the angles of Sniper’s shoulder and hip as the marksman lay curled up on the bunk.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” Sniper grunted his response, his voice muffled by blankets and pillows.
“Is that so?
Sniper shifted in the bunk, and Medic didn’t miss the stiffness in the movement. Of course, if a few aches and pains were the worst things Sniper had brought off the field, it was a good day.
The black bag was set down on the table to be forgotten until morning as Medic readied himself for bed. His clothes were neatly folded and left on the table as he made his way into the small bunk that had become his second home. Sniper scooted forward just a bit to give him a little more space and Medic settled himself behind. He pulled the blankets back over them both and draped an arm over Sniper’s waist before resting his chin over Sniper’s bony shoulder to nuzzle the dark hair that was somehow untouched by grey and always smelled of campfires.
Silence settled over the camper as both men slowly relaxed. Medic let a foot slip between Sniper’s legs, gently rubbing up and down to feel the sinewy muscle before tangling them up together. His hand felt the slight softness around Sniper’s middle, an endearing trait that spoke more to Sniper’s ability to have stayed alive this long than to any lack of fitness on his part. Fingers ghosted over scars both old and new. There was a soft hiss as they strayed across a tender patch, and Medic knew that he’d be tending to the bruising in the morning.
“Sorry, luv. Not gonna be much fun tonight.” Sniper murmured. He rolled over to face Medic, who rolled over onto his back to let Sniper lay his head on his chest. “Ain’t as young as I used to be.”
“Neither of us are, mein liebe.” He looked down into Sniper’s tired eyes and ran his hand through the thick campfire tinged hair. It was true. Neither of them were getting any younger, and respawn only kept so much of age’s advance at bay. More frequently than not, this was their own comfortable routine; enjoying the stillness of night far from prying eyes. And neither of them would trade it for anything.
Medic removed his glasses and set them on a small shelf. Then he returned his hand to Sniper’s back, gently tracing the line of his spine until the soft beating of the heart so close to his slipped into the easy cadence of sleep.
Merry Christmas everyone! And here’s a gift to you from me hope you guys like this short and simple imagine :) I love Stiles (who doesn’t, right?) here and I love using him to make situations lighter or cheery.
With brows furrowed, your eyes opened and saw the meager brightness the dawning light was shining onto the plain
cream colored walls of the room you were sleeping in. But it wasn’t the only
thing that was troubling you in going back to your comfortable sleep.
“Hey,” a husky voice greeted you that somehow made the
insides of your stomach flutter at the sound of it while a comfortingly warm
hand, the same hand you felt just a few seconds before you groggily woke up to
it drawing circles on your bare arm, caressed your cheek making goose bumps spread
throughout your exposed arm and back.
“What’s wrong?” The tone in his voice wasn’t really of worry
but just of concern.
Not bothering to answer him, you instead snuggled closer to
his side and inhaled his masculine yet soft scent that reminded you of fresh
clean laundry and a small hint of cinnamon. Noticing the goose bumps that
decorated your skin, Isaac only brought you closer to his warm chest with a
smile, one arm circling your shoulders and the other pulling the soft white
comforter up to your neck before the hand rest on the curve of your waist.
It was only after an hour or so you woke up again. A deep
and raspy voice cracked as it greeted you a good morning, making you open your
eyes and be met with beautiful blue orbs looking back at you while a small
smile was playing on his lips before he leaned down and pressed them to yours.
It lingered longer than usual, not that you were complaining or anything, you
quite enjoyed it.
Your hand made its way to his nape where you tugged lightly
at the curls which elicited a light growl from the werewolf as he tugged on
your bottom lip, making you gasp and him deepening the kiss. His plump lips
made their way to your jaw and neck placing kisses and occasionally sucking on
your tender skin, leaving patches of discoloration that you’d hide later on to
hide whatever ministrations you two were doing in the bedroom from the pack.
Earning a moan from the nipping Isaac continues to do on
your neck, his hand slid down on your waist while the other cupped your cheek
before he placed his lips back on your bruised ones and continued the fevered
“Hey guys breakfast is-OH MY GOD!” At the sound of the
voice, the both of you stiffened before Isaac sat back down to his side of the
bed while you sat up with your cheeks reddened.
“STILES,” You yelled while Isaac jumped out of the bed and
opened the door attempting to lock it but not before he had a word with the
other half of the dynamic duo, however the door was already slammed shut and
the loud footsteps that ran down the hallway of the cabin the pack rented was
heard along with Stiles shouting loudly, “I hope it’s a boy!”
“We’re not taking any requests!” Isaac screamed back just as
Because what’s a school year without a couple of distractions?
Word Count: 1.4K
Warning: Contains sexual content.
(a/n): daaaaaamn kim back at it again with the dirty smut. LMAO NOW THAT I CAN WRITE KINDA DECENT SMUT NOW I CANT STOP….IM THIRSTY AND A HOE. anyway, jin is so under appreciated and it’s not fair so here i am to say, i love kim seokjin and you should too dammit. i kinda put two requests together bc someone asked for these three words then someone asked for a college!au so here ya go you two lovely anons. hope i did all right >.<
It’s the way his eyes move behind the lenses of his glasses, first to glance at you then to dart quickly out of your gaze once you catch him staring at you. You hide the giggle that itches at your throat because you saw what he did and it made you blush.
Your friend gave a nudge at your elbow everytime his eyes traced back to you when you weren’t looking. She nudged at you so many times that your elbow was growing tender but like a good tender because cute guy was especially distracted today and it was because of you.
“I counted 18,” your friend hummed as you and the whole class started packing up after being dismissed from lecture.
“18 what?” you asked as you slung your backpack over your shoulder.
“18 times that he’s stared at you in the past hour,” she wiggled her eyebrows and just to hide the slight blush on your face, you shoved her slightly.
“Oh come on, don’t act like you don’t love it. The guy is hot!” she trilled and it got a school-girl giggle out of you.
“Do you think I should talk to him?” you whispered as you hoisted your book bag around your shoulders, standing up with your eyes no doubt on him.
“What the fuck do you think?” she said and before you knew it and before you had the ability to use your motor skills to stop her, she was pushing you towards him before bolting out the room. You shook your head, laughing slightly to yourself before approaching him.
It’s not that Keiji had a good singing voice. In fact if Keiji had any say in the matter (which, Bokuto assures him, he doesn’t) he would say he has an average voice. Mediocre at best, honed only by faint humming on train rides and gentle singing in the shower.
Smut and Fluff, NSFW,
It’s not that Keiji had a good singing voice. In fact if Keiji had any say in the matter (which, Bokuto assures him, he doesn’t) he would say he has an average voice. Mediocre at best, honed only by faint humming on train rides and gentle singing in the shower.
It’s not even something he particularly enjoys. None of the exhilaration of volleyball nor the tiny thrills of satisfaction he gets from solving a particularly nasty puzzle or even the relaxation he gets from gardening. It’s just… something to pass the time.
The fact that his boyfriend treats it like a big deal only makes it even more irritating.
Lips parted, eyes
wide, she stared up at him, a small soft noise echoing from the back of her
throat. The sound was enough to break his soul, but the sight of her seemed to
shatter it. Raven’s cheeks were flushed, her hands had fallen away from him and
gripped the bedspread beneath her with enough force to nearly tear the cotton.
Beast Boy watched with bated breath the sight of her muscles tremble and shake,
her abdomen twist and turn under him, and his fingers stilled over her body as
they simply stared at each other. The only sound in the room was that of their
labored breaths and hearts beating out a strange and frantic rhythm.
fluttered closed and her back arched as a low moan broke through the tension
like a hot knife. It was that sight and that sound that was his undoing.