this is my first time drawing him be gentle

First Time With Them: DEAN

/ Jay Park // Kris Wu // Dean /

/ ASTRO // B.A.P // BIGBANG // BLOCK B // BtoB // BTS // EXO // GOT7 // KActor // PENTAGON // SF9// WINNER // iKON // CNBLUE // MONSTA X // NCT // SEVENTEEN /

  • Dude. ;
  • Dean is like;
  • Wow. ;
  • That’s all there is to describe him;
  • Like there’s just something about this boy that draws you in unconsciously;
  • Which is freaky but at the same time like yeah i’d sell my soul for him pft;
  • Now let’s talk about Dean;
  • He’s cute
  • Has a great voice;
  • Seems to be gentle;
  • Maybe thoughtful;
  • Perfect looks;
  • A man that can take care of you, you know? ;
  • Basically a whole namja;
  • Love him and never let him go;
  • But;
  • As much as my heart swells for the prospect of Dean being this whole macho dude in bed;
  • I don’t fully believe it;
  • Lemme say this clear: Dean is not a dominant in bed;
  • Now, I don’t really believe that he’s a submissive, either;
  • There’s a big chance of him being a switch which, let’s admit it, is always fun;
  • You get to tease him and be teased back;
  • Heaven;
  • I may even wander and say that he might be a bit clumsy with his actions;
  • But totally well experienced;
  • His kisses…. ;
  • I can’t even begin describing;
  • So much love, and passion and lusts and everything that’s good and makes your legs wobble;
  • His thrusts;
  • Oh lawd his thrusts;
  • Have you seen this boy’s waves? ;
  • fUCk;
  • These types of people are very fucking dangerous- having this face of an innocent sheep but being totally wicked in the bed;
  • Never thought I’d say this but cutie in the streets, daddy in the sheets- or whatever version you know… ;
  • To sum everything up- Dean is definitely one of a kind;
  • The best sex partner you could ever wish for.
wait for me to come home | isaac lahey one-shot

Originally posted by itsbecauseteenwolf

prompt: (nonsexual acts) slow dancing with isaac & adjusting his tie

pairing: isaac lahey x oc

rating: is angsty!isaac a rating? also fluff 

requested by anon

a/n: i was inspired to write this while listening to “photograph” by ed sheeran and it’s advisable that you do the same. :)

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Preference Ⅰ. Making Out:

{A/N: On my wattpad, I write for both Roman, Dwayne & Jason Momoa so that’s what I’ll be doing here.}

Roman Reigns:

Roman’s kisses were always long and passionate, making every single kiss feel like the very first one.

Every time he crashes his soft lips to yours, he draws moans from your throat, making him smirk against your mouth.

Roman could definitely be rough, but he always made sure to be gentle with you. When he wasn’t fast, urgent and rough with you, Roman made sure to take his time.

His hands would snake down your back before threading around your waist, holding you close to him. Whenever you two made out, whether it was rough or gentle, his hands were always on you, keeping you close to him.

↣↣↣

Dwayne Johnson:

Making out with Dwayne was so rough, but it was the rough you learned to crave.  Along with being rough, he was always passionate and savored every moment, worshipping your body.

Making out with him, depending on the situation, would almost always end up in sex. His rough, large hands would caress your skin as his deep husky voice whispered in your ear. This alone would make you terribly wet, but then his mouth went to work.

His lips would latch onto your neck, automatically directing all of his attention to your weak spot. He would draw moans from your lips with every bite and kiss to your neck.

Throughout all of this, his hands would’ve explored to your waist, before moving to cup your ass.

↣↣↣

Jason Momoa:

Whenever you made out with Jason, he was almost always rough, but never rushed. He always took his time with you, whether he was teasing you and prolonging your pleasure, or giving you all of his attention.

Nearly every time he kissed you, it turned even more heated between you two, as his lips trailed down to your neck.

Jason wasn’t as rough in the beginning of your relationship, as strange as it seems. He was scared to hurt you, but the second you reassured him that you could handle it, Jason never held back.

Other than kissing you, Jason’s hands would usually trail down your back before taking their place at your ass and squeezing. He would then easily lift you by your waist, leading to you wrapping your legs around his thick waist.

↣↣↣

Tag List: @m-a-t-91 @roman-reigns-princess @luceromma4403 @thebanksempire @damnbuvky @blessingz2x2 @x-fivefoot @mrsamberlopezgoodanoai @caramara3 @lilmisscrisis @queenmaryseouellet @wwe-trash2005 @puppycat523 .

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list & make sure to send in any Roman requests!

Routine

« For the Thirty Days of Beauty and the Beast challenge. »

Available on AO3, too!


LeFou came downstairs at precisely 9:03, as always - and Gaston was waiting for him.

As always.

He shuffled to the pantry, his eyes somewhat red and his hair disheveled, and retrieved a loaf of bread. Then he moved to the counter and cut a piece off, handling the knife with a frail, feeble grip.

“You don’t want the heel,” Gaston said, rising from the table and standing next to him. “Here, let me help you.”

And, as always, LeFou refused to even look at him.

He didn’t end up eating the bread, either. It stayed on a plate on the kitchen table and didn’t budge. Gaston offered to eat it himself so as not to waste it, but LeFou didn’t seem to hear.

His actions were worrisome; he didn’t eat, he didn’t talk, and judging by the prominent bags under his eyes, he didn’t sleep, either. There was nothing Gaston could do to help; his friend didn’t want to be comforted, and he certainly didn’t mind wasting away. Perhaps he was still mad at him for what had happened at the castle, but that had been ages ago.

“You really should be over this by now,” he told LeFou as he followed him through the house to the sitting room. “I’ve apologized a thousand times, darling - you could at least acknowledge me, let alone say anything.”

Despite his pleas, LeFou still ignored him, draping a blanket over his knees as he sat down and resting his hands in his lap. He looked unsure of what to do with them.

“Aren’t you going to go out? Some fresh air might do some good.”

No response.

(There never was.)

So they passed the hours in silence. LeFou seemed content to simply stare at the wall and do nothing, but Gaston was bored out of his mind. He’d reorganized the room a dozen times in his head; antlers there, a blunderbuss above the mantle, and a mounted deer head over on that wall. It would be rustic and perfect, and LeFou would surely love it. He couldn’t seem to find any of his things, though…

At three o'clock, something different happened: Stanley came over for a visit.

“What’s he doing here?” Gaston demanded, rising to his feet at once when the familiar wide-eyed boy stepped inside.

“It’s good to see you,” LeFou said as he shut the door, his normally vibrant voice hoarse from disuse. It pained Gaston to hear it after such a long period of silence. “You’re just in time for tea. Two sugars?”

“Of course,” Stanley smiled. Gaston couldn’t help but notice that his pupils were blown and his cheeks flushed as he followed LeFou into the kitchen.

LeFou slowly prepared the tea, occasionally pausing for a few moments and staring blankly at his fingers as if willing them to work. At one point, Stanley, unaware of Gaston’s displeasure, helped him with the kettle, taking it off of the stove before LeFou burnt himself. The shorter man’s murmured thanks did nothing to sate Gaston’s anger.

“You’ll talk to him, but you won’t say a single word to me?” he said, dangerously close to shouting. Apparently, Stanley had joined LeFou in his game of quietude, for now both of them were pretending that he wasn’t there. Gaston shook his head disgustedly.

“So how are you doing?” Stanley asked when the three of them had finally settled at the kitchen table. He quietly sipped his tea while LeFou’s cup and saucer remained untouched.

“It’s been… difficult,” LeFou said morosely - and oh, how Gaston’s heart ached for him. He wished more than anything that he could hold his friend, pressing kisses to his forehead and drawing his fingers through his hair, but LeFou wouldn’t allow it.

“Have you come to terms with it yet?”

“What, his death?” When LeFou’s bitter laugh caught in his throat, Gaston nearly fell out of his chair; that was the first time he’d heard him laugh since…

Well, he couldn’t remember.

“I never had the chance, did I?” LeFou continued. “One moment, he’s by my side, and the next, he’s gone. Lost before I could say goodbye - before I could forgive him -”

“I’m sure he knew,” said Stanley, his tone gentle and soothing. “He knew you weren’t really mad, he knew that you still… loved him.”

“He never even saw it when he was alive! Gaston was a fool - a vain, arrogant fool -”

Realization hit him like a wall, and then he really did fall out of his chair. Neither of them noticed.

When he somehow pulled himself together and stood up again, Stanley was holding LeFou’s hand and saying, “He loved you, too - really, he did! The whole charade with Belle was just that: a charade. You know how much he cared about you; everyone knew that you two had something else, something beyond just friendship. He really loved you, LeFou.”

“If he loved me, why did he go?”

And that was a question that Gaston himself would never be able to answer - because he was dead.

Stanley left an hour later, and the pair lapsed back into silence. LeFou returned to his seat in the parlor and didn’t bother to light the candles when night eventually fell.

Even though he knew that he couldn’t hear him, Gaston knelt at LeFou’s side and said, “He’s right, you know. I… I know I never said it when I had the chance, but I did lo-”

Over the course of his life, he had heard some truly terrible noises: the cry of a great stag struck by one of his bullets; the wail of an infant screaming for its mother; the awful squealing of the Bimbettes whenever he passed.

But Gaston had never heard a sound as horrible as the grave hush that suddenly fell upon the house, punctuated only by LeFou’s hopeless sobs.

And with the terrible silence came the realization that there was absolutely nothing he could do.

5

Unfortunately I can’t count… XD

Meant to make each of these sticky notes their own panel so you could zoom in. But Tumblr has a 10 photo limit and then I realized there were 4 wolves not 3… Anyway wanted to do a few refs I could go back to for the four main silhouette wolves. I’m still debating how much screen time they’ll be getting in the Forgery series since I really don’t want them taking over, but they are becoming increasingly important to Angel, Molly, and their father’s (who I am officially referring as either Angelo or Nicolo until Viv gives us an actual canon name for him XD) story. Also working on a small animated short with them so I wanted to get their final designs down.

Vaggie, Molly, and the original silhouette wolves from the “Mimzy Glam” speed paint before I retooled them into what they are now, all belong to @vivziepop! She and her team are working very hard on getting the legitimate Hazbin Hotel series its first animated pilot right now! So go show her some support! X3

practice!! >///< (*cough* so umm my first digital drawing here… please be gentle with me~~)

gravityprince submitted:

I doodled a thing for you cause I feel u so hard when work is ugh and people are just ugh in general. First time drawing him, omg, I hope it actually looks like him ahhhhhahahaha

You still like this guy right?? Imagine he is in your Joanns, asking you a thing. He is very polite and uses a gentle tone at all times. One of my favorite things to do when I’ve had less than pleasant customers is to imagine my favorite characters coming to my place of work - it always makes me feel better, hopefully it helps you, too!

I had to stare at this and scream on twitter before I could regain my composure enough to post this, it’s so beautiful ooohhHHHHH MY GOD thank you Ace for the beautiful Mink ;____;

I Just Want To Make You Feel Good

Warning: NSFW.


You knew you were going to get pounced on when you got home. The way Sonny kept looking at you, always having at least one hand on you. He either kept his arm around your waist when you were both standing and talking to your friends or a hand on your thigh when you were sitting.

It wasn’t a possessive move; it was him wanting to be close to you whenever he could. His unpredictable, hectic work schedule made your time together rare and special. So when you did see each other, you wanted to make up for all the physical intimacy you didn’t get in the days you were apart.

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When You’re Sleeping

Person A knowing that person B does cute things when A is asleep (plays with their hair, gives forehead kisses, tracing lips, gentle snuggling, draws them, etc). One day person A pretends to be asleep, but ends up being unable to hold back a smile as person B begins displaying their rare affection

For my wife-to-be @the-mess-sterek-left-behind. ♥

[ Also on AO3 ]

The first time it happened, it was so quick, it might as well have been an accident.

It was movie night at Erica’s, and there was a heavy weight on Derek’s shoulder, a soft snoring in his ear. He didn’t need to look to know Stiles was fast asleep on him, had been for several minutes now.

Stiles had been yawning from the moment Derek walked into Erica’ apartment, arms full of the extra snacks she had made him buy on the way over. Because apparently they didn’t have enough already, despite the whole living room table being full of bowls and plates with them. Erica went all out to impress everyone though, had been stressing about it for weeks before, so Derek hadn’t thought twice before he’d said he’d do it.

The movie had started and not ten minutes after, Stiles was fast asleep on his shoulder.

Had it happened a few years ago, Derek would have shoved him off with an annoyed grunt and told him to not drool on him. But now – after everything they had been through together, and after they stopped pining and started dating – he just smiled fondly for a second and let him stay there.

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Taken, Chapter 5: The Space Between (Complete)


Here’s the last chapter of Taken, a DIA AU in which Claire is prevented from returning to the 20th century. If you need to catch up, earlier chapters are located here:

Chapter 1: Craig Na Dun, 

Chapter 2: Dead Man’s Dagger

Chapter 3: Friends and Foes,

Chapter 4: The Greatest Gift


Following Randall’s death, we disguised the bodies as Scots, wrapped them in blankets, and tossed them into the bed of the wagon on top of Jamie, who played the part of his own corpse. If anyone checked the bodies, we hoped they wouldn’t look too closely at the one on the bottom. Gavin and Gregor marched me directly out of Randall’s tent, ropes looped around my wrists for show, and threw me behind them. I sat only inches from Jamie’s prone form and took advantage of his closeness to press my leg against him, eager for any kind of contact. The Mitchell brothers sat on either side of me, ostensibly to prevent my escape, while Aiden drove the wagon in the opposite direction from which they had come, taking care to avoid anyone who had seen them arrive.

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Deal With The Devil - Marvel (Pietro Maximoff aka Quicksilver ft Iron Man and Thor) Part 7

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6


__________________


«How did you know we were here?» I asked my father, still confused as why he had managed to come before Loki disappeared with one of his better suits. 

“Did you really not think JARVIS would notify me of the hulk cage opening? Or the fact that you even stepped into the room?” I stood there for a second, not saying anything. He actually would do it, wouldn’t he?

 "You got a point there.“ I answered looking away from my father’s gaze.

 "And of course this pal came running to me, before storming off to find you.” My father patted Pietro on the back, who had just stood there, not saying a word under the whole thing. 


~

I sat on the rooftop alone, watching the shifting city lights before me. It was silent for a city to be at the moment, just the sound of cars and a shout here and there, but considering how high above I was, it was surprisingly a lot of noise. The door behind me opened, and in less than a second Pietro sat beside me, looking over the same view as me. 

“Here.” He handed me a bottle of something, and I didn’t really question what it was, most human drinks had much effect on me in the end. 

“Thank you.” I smiled over at him, seeing him returning the smile with a slightly nervous one. 

“It’s relaxing isn’t it?” He asked, looking out over the city. 

“Yes, it truly is.” We sat there in silence for a while, before Pietro turned to look at me, the way he looked at me was almost curious.

 "Will you be staying?“ He asked, as if I hadn’t told him the answer to that question a hundred times before. I turned to look at him as well. 

"Yes, haven’t I told you that already?” I asked, seeing the little glimmer in his eyes come back, and a small smile played on his lips, which was a rare sight, normally he would just smirk. 

“Just had to be sure, because then it doesn’t matter if I do this.” He said, leaning in. 

I felt his lips meet mine, careful as first, but as soon as I kissed back, he cupped my chin, keeping me there. His other hand sneaked around myt waist drawing me to him. The kiss was gentle, loving, like nothing I had experienced before. And to think one simple human could make me feel like that was a mystery even to me. We pulled apart, foreheads resting together. 

“It doesn’t matter if you’ll do that at least two times daily as well.” I joked, Pietro letting out a chuckle, at my half joke.

 "Good, because that was what I had in mind.“ He said before pressing his lips to mine again. 


~

We were still on the rooftop, Pietro’s hand around my shoulders as we sipped our drinks, looking out over New York. It was peaceful, just me and him, no words spoken, just enjoying each others company. 

That’s when he came. He flew over to the tower, landing swiftly just two meters from where we sat. 

"Lady Y/N, I’m surprised to see you here.” Thor smiled as he came over to us. 

“Pietro, nice seeing you again.” He nodded over to Pietro who nodded back. Men and their greetings. 

“What are you doing here, Thor?” I asked, looking up at the god.

“Where is my brother? I was told he was making a fuss here.” He spoke, and I let out a little chuckle. 

“I’m afraid you are a little late for that, Thor." 


_______________

That is a wrap or this imagine! 

Just so everybody knows, my request box is open, so free to send in requests!

I had an Anon ask for something about Fenris’s ears. Due to my own carelessness, the ask itself got deleted - I’m so sorry! Uhm. I wrote this yesterday, then hated it, then today thought it wasn’t so bad? So I’ll give it a shot, though I’m still not sure how I feel about it.

The worst of it was, they were with the others when the discovery was made.

A half-drunk, sloppy kiss that missed, that might have completely gone without notice had Fenris, previously slouched and relaxed against Hawke, not suddenly shot up so fast his normal effortless grace was forgotten in the banging of his head against a low hanging lamp.

“Hawke…” Merrill said, tone both measured and scolding amongst the sudden string of frustrated Tevene coming from the other elf. She was quite red, eyes large, hands uneasy on her mug of ale. “It’s very naughty to do that in public!”

It took a while to sort out just what had been done. Merrill didn’t quite believe he didn’t know, and thought his questions and confusion mere attempts to trick her into saying something dirty – which was a game some of the companions played, but, granted, not usually Hawke. Fenris himself was no help, turned from the group, still cursing, his hands on his head. Isabela seemed to know, but was disinclined to share, voicing a preference to hear it from Merrill.

Eventually the combined confusion of their friends persuaded the little mage of Hawke’s sincerity, and she reluctantly explained, halting and crimson-faced. The errant kiss, which had missed and landed so innocently in the merest brush of lip against the outer lobe of a delicately pointed ear, was something considered so intimate by elves universally that his doing so in public would come across as incredibly crude. Even the Dalish, normally so much more open and casual about matters of sex and intimacy than the rest of Thedas, had societal restrictions about touching another’s ears.

“Well,” Merrill said, “You wouldn’t play with his nipples in public, would you?”

“Why not?” Isabela asked with a wicked grin, earning a squeal of protest as she, quite playfully, made a grab for the other woman.

When they were alone, later, in Fenris’s mansion, Hawke apologized for his mistake – both for the social gaff, as well as for being completely unaware of an important erogenous zone for the elf. They had only recently agreed to begin exploring their feelings for one another, and had not slept together yet. The last thing Hawke wanted was for Fenris to feel disrespected or pressured.

“I didn’t know,” Hawke finished, lamely, feeling his apology to be largely insufficient.

“I didn’t either,” Fenris admitted.

It would be more than three years before Fenris would tell him, hesitantly, how an elf’s sensitive ears were used in the Imperium – not for pleasure, but for punishment. How a disobedient slave would have theirs cropped, or nailed to boards. How common it was for Danarius, in a fit of pique, to reach out and twist them until he howled. Fenris, without memory of a time before his marks, had lived with no other association for it.

It took time and trust to allow Hawke to touch them. The first few times, it was hard not to shudder and flinch away from pain he even now expected to endure.

But Hawke was gentle, and Hawke was kind, and Hawke was patient. Hawke, as always, stopped when Fenris needed him to, drawing back with those soft amber eyes anxious and cautious. His hands, so big and rough and strong, were always impossibly gentle.

Killian thought he had known pain, before.

He’d been whipped enough times as a boy on that God-forsaken ship where his father left him, for faults both real and imagined. Poisoned in Neverland. Countless cuts and bruises, part and parcel of being a pirate captain. Beaten by the bloody Crocodile and run over by a car, his ribs shattered.

Having his hand taken had been the worst. Not so much the amputation as the cauterization it took to keep him from bleeding out and the weeks of fever and infection that followed. He’d longed for death then, sweating and shivering in his cabin with only the crudest of care from his crew.

He would not have wished for it if he knew what awaited him on the other side.

It is not just his ribs this time, no – if every bone in his body were not cracked it certainly feels that way, each breath and involuntary twitch causing waves of pain that turn his vision white at the edges. In the real world, he would have passed out by now.

But there is no sleep for him here, no blissful drift in unconsciousness to grant him a reprieve. He is awake for every agonizing moment, bruises and broken bones and burns setting fire to his nerves and assuring him that Hell does indeed exist.

He deserves this, he knows. It doesn’t make it any easier.

He loses any sense of time, borne away on endless waves of pain, and loses himself as well. Forgets why he is there, what he has done to deserve this, nothing left but a grim acceptance of a fate he knows he has earned, even if he can’t remember why.

He thinks he is hallucinating when he feels a cool, gentle hand on his forehead. He can’t open his eyes – one being swollen shut and useless, anyway – but for the first time since he can remember he is able to draw in a breath without pain.

And when a soft pair of lips whispers in his ear, every soothing word lost to him except love, a faint scent of cinnamon accompanying them, he thinks, this.

This is what Heaven must feel like.

TEG - Christmas Challenge 2016 - Entry Five!

Title: Comfort and Joy

Rating: T

Character/s & Pairing/s: Everlark

Any Triggers or Warnings: None

Beta/s used: None

Summary: On a snowy Christmas day, Katniss is stranded at her mother’s nursing home. Luckily, her friend, Peeta, is working and stranded, too, and is more than happy to keep her company. Modern AU.

Author’s note/s: Unbeta’d; all mistakes are my own. Happy holidays everyone!


Katniss presses the red button beside the door and rubs her hands together, trying to bring some warmth into her frozen fingers. After a moment, the familiar buzz signals that the door is unlocked. She rushes inside as the doors close quickly behind her.

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