why do i always sound like a stalker

Shut up and Kiss Me

 Anon prompt: “Could you do something really fluffy with Cheryl, where the reader is dared to kiss Cheryl at a party and starts to really like her?

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: I’m always a slut for bisexual Cheryl Blossom, fr, fr.

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The rules were simple, everyone had played spin the bottle at some point in their lives. Be it at your first middle school party; everyone gushing over how there’d be the possibility of you kissing your crush or even getting your first kiss.
Or maybe you were like me, a freshman in Highschool, never been kissed and only scraping by with your friends who proudly wore the snarky label “Sad Breakfast Club” that Cheryl Blossom had given them one morning.

I had never been to a party, often choosing to sit curled up in me bedroom watching old Friends re-runs, but this time Veronica had practically dragged me along to Cheryl’s house party.

So, there I was, sitting across from Cheryl, the bottle resting in the middle of the small circle we’d created.
Nerves felt like static electricity, shooting through me every time someone spun the bottle, I felt oddly happy that it never landed on me.

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Lead: Athlete!Luke

Typesmut/dom Luke

PairingLuke Hemmings / [Y/N] 

RatingR

Warning: There’s a spanking scene, a lot of dirty talk, and sexual content.

 Warped dance music flooded my ears, my headphones barely managing to stay in as I moved about. There were a lot of perks to being the captain of the varsity cheer squad. Everyone at school knew who I was, and due to my lack of stereotypical popular bitchiness, everyone liked me. I got in free at all the school sporting events, mainly because I was preforming in them, and leniency when I was in trouble for skipping class or sassing a teacher. But there were just as many drawbacks.

                Like, for example, being stuck in the stinky small gym at my shitty little high school on a Saturday, choreographing a new routine for the state cheer competition. As a senior, I’d made captain three years running, largely in response to being co-captain to the dance team as well, and the pressure was on. Last year’s routine had been as close to perfect as they come, winning us state and moving us up to nationals.

                “Five, six, seven, eight..” I count the steps under my breathe, laying out in my head who would be stunting and where. For the most part, the routine I have in mind is clean and simple, but the stunting has the greatest amount of difficulty. Yet, with enough time on our hands, I think we can get it down.

                With a sigh, I pull my iPhone from the case on my arm band, turning off the annoyingly loud electronic cheer music and checking the time. 2pm. I’ve officially been here four hours. My muscles are already strained, my tendons screaming as I take a step towards the gym doors. With luck and some Epsom salts, they won’t be too sore on Monday at practice.

                I grab my gym bag, taking a long swig from my water bottle before slinging it over my shoulder. The walk to the student parking lot is short, but it feels like miles with the halls empty and my feet echoing against the linoleum. As I pass the big gym, my attention is caught by an angry and anguished sigh. My interest is immediately peaked, and I slip through the doors quietly to see who else would be here on a Saturday.

                My eyes land on a tall and lanky figure, blonde hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. It takes me half a second to recognize him. Luke Hemmings, star point guard to Westview High School’s varsity basketball team. I watch him silently for a few moments as he runs through plays, faking right around an invisible opponent and going for a jump shot. The ball bounces off the net, flying to the side to lay forgotten on the floor. Luke lets out a frustrated groan, racking his hands through his hair and pulling.

                Luke and I have known each other basically our whole lives, from kindergarten all the way on up through senior year, though we’ve never been particularly close. We dated briefly in the eighth grade, mostly just holding hands and exchanging a few awkward kisses before moving on to other people and forgetting all about it. Now I only see him at games and parties, and the occasional AP class we have together. But I’ve always had a thing for him.

                In eight grade he was awkward and lanky, completely uncoordinated and taking an extra bus to a math class here at the high school because he was too advanced for the rest of us. He wore those awful jean shorts that reach just above his knee with flipflops and some sort of brand name t-shirt, and all of us questioned how he managed to pull it off without looking like an idiot. Yet, despite his obvious quirks, he was well liked. But it’s nothing compared to now.

                In the four years since our brief acquaintance, he’s captured my attention exponentially. Though he’s always been tall, in past few years his height has skyrocketed. My normal 5’ 7” stature is nothing compared to his near 6’ 4”. Along with that his shoulders have broadened, sloping down deliciously into  an expertly carved torso and a v-lined hip structure. But he’s never looked hotter than when in his uniform.

                The baggy basketball shorts have always hung low on his hips, exposing his toned stomach when he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe sweat from his forehead. His normal quiffed hair is slicked flat against his forehead with sweat, his eyes always focused solely on the ball. But that fucking jersey, hanging loosely from wide shoulders and framing his swollen biceps. And then there’s that stupid lip ring… Just looking at him is enough to turn me on.

                “Are you just going to stand there and stare at me or were you planning on saying something?” Luke’s gruff tone pulls me from my thoughts. His blue eyes stare at me with hard glint, almost like he’s daring me to say something to set him off.

                “I was observing.” I say nonchalantly, removing myself from the doorway and moving towards him. My head tilts to the side, gesturing to the net. “Having some trouble with your jump shot?”

                He glares briefly before nodding. “I’ve always been kind of shit at them, but this season is when it really counts. My grades alone aren’t enough to get me into a good college. I’ve gotta get scholarships, and no scout is going to recruit me if I can’t even make a fucking jump shot.” The look on his face makes my stomach twist in knots; he’s always been confident in school and basketball, but the boy looks nearly petrified.

                With a shake of my head, I sigh and gesture for him to follow me. “C’mon, Luke. Let’s go ice your ankle.”

                “Why would I do that?”

                My heart beat quickens dramatically. My mind runs at a thousand miles a minute, racing to come up with an explanation for knowing so much about him without a) letting on that I’ve been mildly obsessed with him for several years and b) sounds like a complete stalker. “You broke your ankle in eighth grade.” I shrug, glancing back for a moment to make sure he’s following me towards the locker rooms. “I’m at all the games, Luke. I notice it bothering you when you’ve been moving around a lot, and judging from the looks of your hair, you’ve been in this gym for at least three hours.”

                He doesn’t say anything, and I can’t decide whether to be relieved or my apprehensive. The locker room is unlocked, thank god, and I force Luke onto one of the benches while I gimmy the lock to the coaches office in order to get an ice pack from him mini fridge.

                “Your ass looks great in those yoga pants by the way.” He smirks as I return, curling his knee to his chest and placing the ice pack to his ankle with a slight wince.

                I grin sheepishly. I’d totally forgotten I was wearing them, but I’m glad I did. My attraction to Luke is unfathomable, and it’s comforting to know that he finds at least some part of my aesthetically appealing. Though my body is physically fit, I’ve always been self-conscious of my gymnast’s thighs and dirt brown hair.

                My eyes focus on the wall, pretending to read the names of all the award winning athletes who’ve been through our small school. I’m apprehensive to leave, mostly because I want to admire a sweaty and uniformed Luke for just a bit longer.

                Luke’s deep sigh pulls me from my thoughts and I turn to him with a frown. His face is set in a tight grimace, eyes on the floor. Just by looking at him I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his body hunches in on itself from his tight muscles. Without thinking through it, I  toss my bag to the floor and take the final step towards him. My hands work without my permission, massaging his shoulders and rubbing at the knots beneath his shoulder blades.

                “What are you – ow!” He flinches, but leans back against my hands. I grin to myself, watching the look of pleasure spread across his face as some of the tension subsides. If only something different was causing it…  

                “You need to relax, Hemmings.” I whisper, voice low with lust as he clenches his jaw and the vein in his neck shows prominently. My legs cross involuntarily, desperate to relieve some of the tension growing between my thighs.

                Luke snorts, leaning his head back against me while my fingers work deeper into his shoulders. “Oh yeah, and what would you suggest?”

                With an uncharacteristically bold move, I lean forward, letting a hand slither down his chest until I reach the elastic band of his basketball shorts, pulling on it and letting it snap back playfully. My lips press just below his ear, biting down on the lobe softly before speaking. “I think, maybe, a little recreational activity would be good for you.”

                A low groan slips past his lips as my hand dips into his pants, palming him over the thin material of his boxers. “Oh really now?” He growls, dropping the ice pack to the floor and grabbing my arm, pulling me swiftly on top of him as he lies back against the bench. “Why don’t you lead the way then?”

                “Okay.” I whisper, sitting up and swinging my leg over to straddle him. My lips meet his in a hungry kiss, biting down on his lip ring and pulling back on it to elicit a moan from deep in his throat. The sound alone only dampens the space between my thighs.

                My hands travel underneath his jersey, exploring the toned skin before pulling the material over his head. I place chaste kisses down his stomach, shimmying his shorts down his legs when I reach them. With deliberately slow movements, I mouth his clothed member, feeling it stiffen instantly under my touch. My impatience is stronger than his, and before long I find myself hurriedly pulling down the suffocating tight material of his briefs. My eyes widen as his erection slips free, already seeping precum.

                Luke props himself up on his elbows, watching me as I take his shaft in my hand and offer a few quick pumps before licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. He groans loudly, involuntarily bucking his hips in his desperation for more contact. The needy look on his face is turning me on more and more, and just to toy with him, I keep my eyes on his as I take him into my mouth. My right hand works what I can’t fit, my left splayed across his stomach to support myself.

                “Fuck. Gonna fuck that pretty little mouth.”  He groans, placing a hand on my head and pulling me off him. The dampness between my thighs is nearly dripping as he pushes me to my knees on the floor, standing before me with his fingers wrapped tightly in my hair. “Open your mouth.”

                I comply instantly, nearly gagging as he slams roughly into my mouth. My eyes water as he holds my head in place, thrusting into my mouth repeatedly, hitting the back of my throat each time. Strings of curses leave his mouth, his head leaning back as my own moans at the look on his face provide him further pleasure.

                Without warning, he pulls back, allowing me to take a full breath. I stare up at him in confusion, wondering why he stopped before he could finish. “You left the coach’s office unlocked, right?” I nod at his question, watching a near devilish grin spread across his face. “Come with me.”

                I follow the naked boy as he leads me quickly into the office, pushing the few papers and pens that litter the small desk to the floor. “We’ll clean it up later.” He mutters, lifting me up briefly so I sit on the desk.

The space between my legs is burning with desire as he takes the lead, quickly removing my shirt and my sports bra. His large hands palm my breasts, calloused fingers hardening my nipples with a few slight pinches. I moan as he takes one into his mouth, sucking and biting harshly before soothing the pain with a swipe of his tongue.

His lips migrate up to my collarbones as he shoves a hand beneath the tight fabric of my yoga pants, pressing hard figure eights into my clit. When I moan, he stops, offering me a sharp glare. “You don’t make a sound unless I tell you to.”

The darkness in his eyes surprises me. “Wait but I –”

I’m cut off quickly as Luke pulls me from the desk, pulling my yoga pants and the thin lace of my thong down in one swift movement before pushing my bare chest flat against the hard wood. The cold wood soothes the bite marks he left along my chest, but I don’t have long to enjoy it before a hard slap lands on my right cheek. I cry out and another one follows it.

“Not a sound, or you’ll be punished.” Luke growls, the tone of his voice telling me he’s smiling. His figure dip between my thighs, finding the moisture dripping down my leg. “But you like it don’t you?”

I nod, remembering what he said about not speaking. His roughness is a total turn on for me, and completely unexpected. When he told me to take the lead earlier, I assumed he would want me to ride him, which of course I was up for, but this is much more fun.

A finger dips into me without warning, and I struggle to keep quiet. It’s been a whole three months of summer since I’ve had any sort of sexual contact, and his roughness is near painful in the best way. “You like that.” Luke mutters, rolling his thumb across my clit as he slides in another digit and scissors them inside me before halting completely. Feeling him inside me but not moving is driving me positively mad, and I buck my hips backwards into him, earning another hard slap to my ass.

“Someone’s eager.” Two more slaps meet my right cheek before his hand begins to massage the red and puffy skin. His cock presses against the back of my thigh as he removes his fingers, running teasingly along my slit. “Tell me what you want, in detail.

With a desperate whine, I push myself back against his member, desperate for some sort of contact. “I want you.” I whimper, wincing as he pulls roughly on my hair. His request for detail is turning me on more, and I can barely force the words from my mouth. “I want you to fuck me so hard I’m sore for days.” I groan out, biting my lip as he pushes in his tip and halts again. “Please, baby, I need you.”

That’s all it takes before he slams into me, going alarmingly deep. I bite my tongue, trying desperately to keep quiet, before his latest demand greets me. “Don’t hold back. I want you to scream for me.” I moan loudly just from his words alone, earning me another particularly deep thrust.

He sets a fast but shallow pace, most definitely intentional. Luke wants me to beg, and my pride won’t get in the way of me doing so. “Fuck, baby.” I whimper before grinning, grabbing onto the sides of the desk as I prepare myself for the repercussions of what I am about to say. “Is this the best you’ve got?”

“You’re going to regret that.” Luke yells, grabbing onto my hair and slapping my ass one last time before thrusting hard and filling me up completely. A scream of pleasure rips past my lips, and my mouth forms a constant ‘O’ shape as he pulls all the way out and goes back in balls deep with every thrust. His rough behavior causes the desk to slide along the linoleum floor, letting out a loud screech.

The pace he’s set has us both close to release in only a few moments. Luke’s hand slips between my legs to play with my clit as my walls tighten around him. It only takes a few more sloppy thrusts, aimed more toward his pleasure than my own, before I release around him with a scream of his name. He follows shortly after, collapsing on top of my back for a few moments on top of my back, still inside of me.

After a few minutes of labored breathing, he pulls out and steps back, gently turning me around. Concern floods his eyes as he eyes the already purple lines forming across my ribs from repetitive blows to the desk. “I – I’m sorry.” He mutters, leaning down and placing a soft kiss against the dark bruising. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”

“It’s okay.” I giggle, standing up and reaching for the clothing he cast aside. “I liked it.”

His familiar grin spread across his face  and he nods instead of replying to my statement. We dress in a comfortable silence. A silent exchange goes on between us as we look at the papers littering the floor, deciding to leave them there just for shits and giggles. As we exit the locker room, Luke grabs my arm.

When I turn to him, he rubs the back of his neck nervously before regaining his confidence and leaning into me against the doorframe. “Maybe you could help me relax before every game.” He mutters, kissing me briefly.

I smile broadly, both at the gesture of the small kiss and the thought of all the fun we could have. “Of course.” I whisper. “But next time, I’m taking the lead.”

Original Imagine: Imagine being on a fancy date at an Italian restaurant and Kol’s fingers slip between your thighs under the table.

Author: puellaigmotum

Reader Gender: Female

Word Count: 2,126

Warning: Smut, blood drinking.

           It was the Founders Day celebration and the whole town was filled with excitement. Apart from Bonnie, Elena and myself. Caroline had us setting up the town square, decorating it with streamers and other pointless things that no one would care about.

‘Why are we even doing this?’ asked Bonnie as she tried to untangle herself from a streamer.

‘Because we were the stupid ones that said that we had nothing better to do on a Friday night,’ I laughed as I tried to jump to place a lantern in a tree. ‘Well, of course, Elena didn’t have to do this,’ I said as I walked back to the table nearby where the girls were. ‘She had a romantic evening with a certain Salvatore,’ I smirked as she laughed and rolled her eyes. ‘Remind me, which one was it again?’

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Loving Lucy

Summary: It took Natsu 147 days to realize he was in love with Lucy.

On FF.net


The first day he had liked Lucy, it had been sweet—like the Georgia Peach Tea that she had been drinking the first time he saw her.

 Natsu had been leaving his friend Gray’s room after studying together for their Chemistry midterm when he passed by the dorm’s lounge. Even though the room was surrounded by glass, its tinted shade made it hard to see anyone inside. He could, however, hear the faintest, sweetest hum drifting through the propped open door. It was his favorite song. Before he knew what he was doing, his feet were walking him inside the lounge, and he was laying eyes on a beautiful blond sitting at the study table nearest the window looking out on the street.

 He sat in one of the stiff loveseats with a dull geometric pattern on it that was close enough to her to hear the Twenty One Pilots drifting out from her headphones as she continued to hum along. The steady beats hammered into him, right against the temples, as he studied the way her tongue flicked out and gathered up the last droplets of Georgia Peach Tea swimming on the rim of her can. Her hands were wrinkled, thin, and stained with ink. He imagined how they would have danced through her thick blond locks, weaving in and out to produce the braid that trailed down her spine and tickled the back of her arm.

 She was bobbing her head from side to side, lashes casting a smudge of a shadow on the underbellies of her eyes. Those eyes, nearly absent of the pupil, flickered up, golden as honey. She saw him looking at her, but merely scratched at a freckle on her arm and went back to smoothing out the pages of her pink notebook. The air conditioning vent beside her turned on, blowing a particular wisp of bangs up and away from her pale face. Wrinkles were furrowed into her forehead, growing deeper the longer she stared at the page she was studying.

 The red, plastic chair she had been leaning up on snapped back down, and upon impact she stood, glanced at Natsu, then left. His gaze lingered on that can of peach tea, the curly strand of her headphones dangling from the table.

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Finn Fancies the Bus Girl

A Rae and Finn fic. Inspired by a cute boy I see on the bus, but as I missed it I wondered if he wondered where I was. (He probably didn’t but I would like to think he did) Half canon half au. Let me know what you think! (Also I may have only given Rae blue in her hair because I have blue in mine…)

EDIT! Fixed the point of view change;D

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