your sinful tongue

Distraction*

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Mature
Summary: Reader is bored and wants to cure it by distracting her boyfriend.
Word Count: 1.4k
Genre: Mild smut
Warnings: long steamy make out session and it also involves some slight dry humping.

Gifs used below aren’t mine, credit to the rightful owners.

Stepping inside the shared living room of the building, determined to cure your boredom, you spotted your boyfriend sitting on a couch and reading some reports of the last assignment.

Glenn Miller’s soft music - Steve’s favorite - filled the room and relaxed the ambient air while the rest of the Avengers was minding their own business outside the facility and- therefore had left you both. All alone with Steve Rogers.

Walking over the super soldier, you sneaked behind the couch, landing your hands on his shoulders and you massaged the tightness of his muscles, earning some satisfying groans.

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Best Stolen Gift

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 599

Warnins: Implied Smut

A/N: Thanks to my sweet lil sis @mysupernaturalfics for betaing for me. And happy birthday to my absolute favourite actor, Jensen Ackles.

“Best birthday gift ever,” Jensen mumbled against your neck, making you giggle, still high on on him and practically still seeing stars even minutes after he rolled off you and pulled you into his arms.

“You say that every year,” you smiled at him, softly pegging his lips making his grin widen.

“And every year it is true,” Jensen hummed, drawing lazy patterns on your naked back, as you ran your fingers through his hair drawing him closer. “You are the best gift I ever had.” Jensen promised, kissing your neck making you giggle again, enjoying the way his stubbles teased your still sensitive skin.

“I am glad me getting stood up brings you so much joy,” you joked thinking back to your first date or whatever you’d call it, making him chuckle and bury his face in your neck.

“10 years and you still don’t know,” he muttered, making you frown and tug his hair gently, making him look at you.

“Know what?” you asked, with a bewildered expression on your face and Jensen’s green eyes sparkled at you making the golden flakes shine even clearer.

“Promise you won’t divorce me?” Jensen asked, with a smug grin on his face and you rolled your eyes.

“I have gotten kinda attached. Two kids and all. Now spill it Ackles,” you fought to keep a straight face but it was hard to be stern when he looked at you like that. With childlike amusement and so much love, an expression only he could master to perfection.

“You weren’t stood up. Well the guy was late, but he showed,” Jensen averted your gaze a little when he saw your confusion, his hand kept drawing symbols on your back as he spoke. “Jared and I were watching you for the first 30 minutes you were waiting. The red rose on the table made it kinda obvious it was a blind date. I told Jared that you deserved better when you were almost leaving and we saw the guy carrying a red rose in the door. Jared just… well… He told me to show you better and he walked up and spilled his coffee all over the guy.”

You eyes opened wide, but you felt no need to scold him. You just couldn’t believe that Jared and Jensen had been able to keep this from you for 10 years.

“So you walked up to me and asked me to come with you to your birthday party?” you bit your lip to keep from laughing and Jensen blushed slightly, still not looking at you.

“Well it sounds creepy when you put it like that,” Jensen muttered and you could no longer hold back your laughter. You tangled hand in his hair again and wrapped your free arm around his shoulder, pulling his closer and into a tender, passionate kiss.

“But you are my creep,” you teased when you broke the kiss, making Jensen chuckle as you lovingly slapped his arm. “I can’t believe you never told me dude! You got a lot of making up to do.”

“I’ll start right now,” Jensen wiggled his eyebrows at you before ducking under the sheet making you let out a squeal and giggle.

“Jay it’s your birthday not mi… arhhh,” your protest turned into a sultry moan as your husband’s sinful lips and tongue found their target. Your last coherent thought before getting completely lost in your husband and the pleasure he brought you yet again, was to remember to thank Jared tonight, after kicking his ass for not telling you about his little matchmaking game himself.

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[M] Open Up.

Pairing: Yoongi / Reader

Summary: Honesty is the best policy, Yoongi reckons and you…Well, you tend to agree.

Count: 1.4 k

Warning(s): Smut. Also, this gives me CEO!Yoongi vibes so heads up because I’m wrecked by it. 

A/N: I was writing something else then I thought about Yoongi for like two seconds and oops…  (@full-time-dino; suffer) 

Originally posted by yooingi

The silence in the room weighed heavy upon your shoulders, disappearing temporarily with every one of your labored breaths.

“I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn,” He shrugged, the pad of his thumb swiping over the head of his cock to collect a bead of precum, “Just tell me what you want.” He said, pressing the slicked thumb against your bitten lips waiting for them to part obediently so he could press it against your tongue. It was almost generous of him to let you savor the familiar taste, even if it was just for a moment. You knew it was a taunt, a harsh reminder of everything your pride was keeping you from but still, your eyes closed in an effort to concentrate on the faint taste of Yoongi that lingered.

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hate

/hāt/

verb

  1. This is what I stay alive for, godforsaken mortality, blood soaked kisses, barbed wire hugs, splintering rib cages, the ambrosia taste of revenge; I dare you to fall before me, wither in my bloodlust, I am coming for you and you only. 
  2. Cauterize the wound, unheal what your body has stitched back together; I am a river of a bullet hole, visceral, screaming for blood, chanting in ten tongues; I am what awakes in the night, with wide black eyes, these claws are a battle cry.
  3. Monsters become monsters when they are hurt, and I am an oozing festering sore; you took something from me, and I will drag you to hell and back; I will rip apart the galaxy inside me and pull you into my black hole; you will fall to your knees before me and beg for forgiveness, before I cut off your sinful tongue and you will relinquish what you took, what was never yours. 
  4. The child of hope and naïveté; what happens when you let a boy break you, then you break him back; my lifeblood, the inhale and exhale of my lungs; take me back to your bed darling and I’ll rip your throat out in one bite; I am the full moon in all her lust, achingly vulnerable, plumes of smoke escaping from open mouths, fangs for teeth, I bite and you snap, I inject your venom into my veins.
  5. What corrupts and what I love; what makes this body a burning pyre, there is a sun in my veins and she is lionhearted fever, an infection eating me up, she is hungry and you will go up in flames, I swear it so; there is no love in trenches, and this is a war. 
  6. You are the forest I will burn with my rage, and shoot up your ashes until I taste heaven, delirious with love, you are transient and I am all. I am the war wager, I am the original angel that walked this earth, and you are what corrupted me, love.
  7. Wanting to love you but knowing I can’t, so I settle for this, and it burns just as good.
Mortifer - Pt. 1

Video Teaser   |   Part 1   |   Part 2

Summary: Hoseok is what you call a mystery. You don’t know anything about him except for the fact he works at your favourite coffee shop. Until he gets you out of a dangerous situation one day. You want to grow closer to him but in order to find answers, you’ll have to face his demons.

Word count: 4.1k

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Fallen Angel! AU

A/N: In replacement of the prologue i recently deleted, here’s the real first chapter of the series! Enjoy the feels! 

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Show Me Love 5

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Plot: Professor Barnes takes you home.

Warnings: StudentXProfessor relationship (No minors involved, Reader is a Grad student and completely legal at the age of 25), Language (you all know me by now, I mean c’mon), unprotected sex (you know the drill) This chapter is pure Smut.  That’s it.

A/N: I am so beyond sorry for how long this took.  I’m finally all settled into my dorm (thank GOD) and finally have access to my laptop and wifi again after a straight week of driving (Yes, a week. please kill me.)  I hope you all enjoy, this chapter fought me like crazy but I’m pretty happy with the outcome! (But this is probably the worst porn I’ve ever written, I am so sorry.)

ALSO: If you saw my post about auditioning for a musical, I got a callback for the part I want!! :D Callbacks are in the morning and the cast list is up tomorrow afternoon! PLEASE keep me in your thoughts/prayers/send good juju because lord I love this show!!

Missed something?  Find the beginning HERE

⬅️⬅️PART 4 ||| PART 6➡️➡️

Originally posted by sensualkisses

Everything comes slamming back into reality the second Dr. Bar-Bucky takes his hands off of you.

“I’ll get a cab.” He says, clearing his throat as he stares into your eyes. Somehow you get yourself to nod, saying something about how you need to grab your purse and you only hope that what came out was at least slightly coherent.

Numb legs hobble over to the bar, and you’re surprised you keep completely upright the whole time. Wide eyes greet you as your hands find purchase on the bar itself.

“What the hell just happened?” They screech in unison, flabbergasted at the fact that a few seconds after rutting on the dance floor, the two of you have seemingly parted ways.  You chug the water Wanda has offered out to you, sighing as it slithers down your throat. The cool liquid does nothing to cool you down, and as your eyes meet Bucky’s across the bar once more, the fire inside of you is set ablaze once more.

With a smirk, he nods towards the door. The taxi is waiting outside and your heart is pounding a million miles an hour.

Blowing a breath out your nose to steady yourself, you turn to your best friends and wink. “Don’t wait up, girls.”  

______________

The air in the taxi hangs thick as the two of you sit in silence. You’re sitting close - oh so close - and your heart is racing. You’ve never done something like this before and the thought of it all is incredibly daunting. The apprehension must show on your face, because beside you Dr. Barnes scoots closer. His long fingers curl under your chin, angling your face so that you’re gazing into each other’s eyes.

He’s silent as he looks at you, a small smile playing across his lips. Those very lips brush sweetly over yours a moment later and you melt into him again. Strong arms wind around you, easily pulling you into his lap as his tongue explores your mouth. He tastes divine and you hope to god that you are able to keep up with him.

The taxi lurches suddenly, the driver clearing his throat. The way you scramble off of Bucky’s lap is less than graceful, but he’s too distracted with fishing his cash out to notice.  He all but throws the cash at your driver, snapping out a ‘keep the change’ as his hand wraps around your wrist before yanking you from the car.

Numb legs hobble to the elevator, doing nothing to catch you from slamming into his hard body as Bucky suddenly comes to a stop. He glances down at you as your momentum rocks him, his arm snaking around your waist to support you. You’re both hyper-aware of the fact that there are other people present in the lobby, and it only makes it that much more difficult to keep your hands off of each other.  His eyes are peeking at you from the side as he faces ahead toward the elevators and you daringly lick your lips. His eyes darken.

The glance goes unnoticed by everyone else as his grip flexes against your hip.

That sinful pink tongue peaks out, running quickly across his lip and your legs almost give out.

With perfect timing, the elevator chimes to alert you of its presence and the both of you are almost running into the now open doors.

The second you’re inside, you’re shoved up against the far wall, the metal hand rail digging into your back as kiss chapped lips crash against your own. Hands land on either side of your head, lean waist edging your legs wider so he can rest right against you. He rocks gently as he kisses you, low groans escaping his throat as he generates the friction he so craves. Your chin begins to burn from the way he’s drinking you in with his kisses, but you couldn’t care less.  In fact, you found yourself wondering how that beard burn would feel running up your inner thighs.

The elevator ride is over before it really starts, and while you’re slightly disappointed, you don’t even have a moment to mourn before you’re being scooped up bridal style - yes, bridal style, Christ almighty - and being carried effortlessly through the long hallway.

When he shifts to dig through his pocket for his keys you shriek, your weight being tossed over his shoulder. Your stomach rests against the strong muscle of his shoulder and you giggle as he fishes his keys out and only barely struggles to open the door. Your mirth is met with a sharp smack to your ass and there is no way you could prevent the moan that bubbles up in response.

Bucky smiles darkly, his teeth glimmering in the promising grin before he’s walking over the threshold. His large hand caresses your stinging cheek.  Cupping your weight in his hands, he returns you to standing. You can feel the callouses on his strong hands through the flimsy material of your dress and gulp heavily. Thoughts of how good those fingers will feel between your legs dance behind your lust  filled eyes.  Your clumsy fingers reach up.

You want him naked now.

Well, you wanted him naked the moment you met him, but that’s beside the point.

“Patience, Doll,” Bucky whispers against the shell of your ear as he pulls you flush against him. Heat surges through your veins.

This is happening.

This is really happening.

You’re going to fuck your teacher. Dr. Bucky do-whatever-you-want-with-me Barnes is about to screw your brains out and -

Oh god, what’s he doing?

Your eyes roll back at the sensation of his warm tongue tracing your ear before dipping to the sensitive skin behind it. Fingers knot in the buttery leather draped on his strong frame and you’re singing his praises as his fingers inch up the hem of your skirt.

As the scratchy sparkles reach your stomach, he stops, callouses dancing over the ticklish skin there and his lips close around your pulse point.

Giggles that become sighs surge forward as he plays you like a god damn violin and you vaguely think that you want to do the exact same to him.

Daring hands surge forward and shove the leather jacket down his arms, tugging harshly and only keeping his touch from you for a matter of seconds. The shirt comes next, but he’s far too impatient to let you get any further.  He attacks again, a new fever consuming him as he abandons your neck, lips capturing your own.

With your hem pushed so high, his hands come up to cup the backs of your bare thighs and suddenly you’re in the air. Instinctively, you wrap your arms and legs around him and the second you do, he’s moving down the hall.  The movement is blurred, shaky as he rushes to the bedroom.

Your back meets the bed, body bouncing as Bucky drops you to tear his shirt off over his head. Your jaw drops and like a damn idiot you gape at him, eyes washing over every contour and crevice in his perfect abdomen. Suddenly, you’re very aware of the way he’s looking at you and you know he wants you to lose the dress.

There was only one problem.

You had no idea how to get it off.

God bless Natasha for lending you such a sexy number, but God damn her for choosing the one that requires a second set of hands to get on and off.

Coming up to rest back on your arms, you bat your eyelashes at the sex god staring down at you and bite your lip. Your foot even ventures to brush up the outside of his thigh, hooking around his hip as you speak.

“Want to give me a hand, big boy?” That same devilish grin breaks across Bucky’s face and before you can comprehend what’s happening, you’re on your stomach.

Large hands creep up your calves, dipping as they run over the back of your knees and you giggle at the sensation. A breathy chuckle blows over the back of your throat as hands travel further upward, squeezing the backs of your thighs. Unexpectedly, his fingers brush over your cloth covered center in his accession and you sigh quietly, your hips jolting off the bed.

Bucky’s low chuckle rings in your ears again as his fingers knot in the hem and tug up. Somehow he gets the skintight garment off and tosses it off somewhere in the room. As soon as it’s gone, his hands are on the bare skin of your back.  He admires you quietly, letting his skin run over the dips of your back before he’s rolling you over again.  He settles on his knees between your spread legs, groaning as he cups your lace covered breasts in his hands. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers into your cleavage as he descends on you, laving at the soft skin of your breasts.

Heat follows the path he traces on your soft skin, goosebumps exploding beneath his hands as he kneads your breasts.  His eyes are glued to the lace adorning them, his thumbs rolling your nipples as he watches pleasure dance over your face.  Reaching inside, he brings a breast out to the cool air, blowing over the sensitive bud before taking it into his mouth.

Your whines split the air as he laps at you, teeth grazing and pulling gently, just enough that your legs dance in response of their own accord.  His hand pays the same attention to the other breast each time he switches off but his blue eyes are always locked on your face.

Then his lips travel lower, tracing every detail of your stomach.

Then lower…

Then lower…

Feather light touches drift down your stomach, curling over your hips and the garments hugging them as his mouth explores.  Those talented fingers pluck at the elastic of your panties, and you’re sure that if he doesn’t get them off soon, you’re going to lose your mind.  Thankfully, he hooks his fingers in the fabric, dragging them down and tossing them over your shoulder before he’s licking at the skin of your pelvic bone again.

Then, at the last second, he’s pulling to the side, nipping the sensitive skin where your hip meets your pelvis.  You shudder, not quite expecting it, and your legs pull closer of their own accord.

But that won’t do.

Callouses brush against the skin behind your thighs, tracing the shape of your ass, before pushing your legs apart.  You gasp at how exposed you suddenly are, sighing when that focused tongue dances on the skin of your pubic bone, then your hip.  The stubble peppering that strong chin leaves fire in its wake but you don’t fucking care.  If anything the sting pulls your strings tighter and so when he finally inches closer, circling your pussy a few times before he’s tripping over your clit, you arch off the bed.

“There we go.”  He rumbles lowly against your core, the vibrations pulling a whine from your chest.  He’s using every tool he’s got to take you higher and higher, brushing that delicious stubble over your most sensitive skin, fingers teasing at your folds, all while his breath is blowing over you.  His eyes are locked on you, memorizing every reaction he pulls from you.  Your body bows as he repeats every action that has you chanting his name, and soon enough you’re tripping over the edge.

Your first orgasm catches you off guard when his stubble is brushing over your clit again as he devours you.  He notices, because as you’ve experienced thus far - this man misses nothing - and he does it again, elongating your orgasm as he presses with his tongue, his nose, his chin.  Anything and everything that has you burning in his hands.  Then his fingers slide home and you’re not sure how much more you can take.

Bucky’s eyes watch hungrily as he thrusts his fingers in and out, spreading your slick all over as you flutter around the curling digits.  

You collapse against the bed as you come down, chest rising and falling as you pant and desperately try to catch your breath.  Your eyes flutter shut, your energy failing you.

Bucky chuckles above you, his weight coming to rest on you.  When you open your eyes, his beautiful smiling face is staring back and you and you can’t help but giggle.

“What’s so funny?”  He asks, brushing your damp hair from your forehead.  You reach up, brushing a finger through his damp stubble.

“You’ve got a little…something, right there.”  You tease, bringing the slick finger to your mouth and sucking it into your mouth all while maintaining eye contact.  Blue eyes grow dark as you lick your juice from your finger and as soon as you’ve pulled it from your mouth, he’s on you.

The kiss is bruising, the energy flowing through the two of you anew.  His hands clamp down heavily on your hips, pulling them up as he grinds down.  You whine, grinding back against him and tug at the denim keeping him from you.  Taking the hint, he rocks back on his haunches and rids himself of both pants and boxers in almost one fluid motion.

Your eyes grow wide, jaw dropping, and Bucky merely chuckles.  The man is gifted, there’s no doubt about that.  Hell, he’ll probably tear you in two.  But fuck, he’s absolutely stunning.  That strong, taut body all hard and ready - for you.  The thought has a shiver running up your spine and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down again.  His weight lands on his forearms at either side of your head and he begins to rub his bare skin against you.

The both of you moan at the new found friction, Bucky’s head falling to the crook of your neck as he continues his assault.  You’re sure if he keeps it up, you’ll cum again all too quickly.  But you need him inside of you.

Desperately.

“Bucky,”  You sigh, your legs wrapping around his wide waist and pulling him closer to you.

“What do you want, beautiful?”  He asks gently, smacking your ass lightly when you don’t answer him quickly enough.  “C’mon, Doll.”

“I want to ride you.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

As soon as the words are out of your mouth, Bucky’s on his back and pulling you on top of him.  His dark eyes drink you in, no doubt lost in the way you look above him.  After all, you’re admiring him as well.  The way his hair is splayed out like a crown, chest rising and falling, proud cock curled up to his stomach as he aches for you.

By now, your liquor has completely worn off. Now you’re intoxicated by nothing but Bucky.  You find him easily enough, never breaking the eye contact as you ease him into your entrance and your heart hammers at the way his eyes flutter and he groans.  The thick head pushes in easily enough, stretching you with a pleasant sting and you can’t help but moan as well.

Loudly.

It’s downright pornographic, in fact.

“Fuck, you’re tight.”  He moans high in the back of his throat.

“It’s been a while.”  You admit sheepishly, shifting so you can rock against him comfortably.

“Me too.”  He utters out, on the verge of insanity at the slow pace you’ve set.  The admission sends your heart speeding out of your chest, your pride soaring that such a handsome man would choose you to break his dry spell, and him - yours.

You don’t bounce on him yet, don’t slowly rise up and down, you just rock slowly, letting the fur low on his abdomen tickle your clit as you memorize the way he feels inside you.  The way he fills you so completely.  He does the same for a moment, eyes rolling back at the way your walls constrict around him every time a shock shoots through your clitoris.  The warm vice around him slowly drives him to break, and when he does you’re done for.

Strong hands clamp on your hips, blue eyes narrowing before he pulls you up, only to slam you right back down.

Your moans harmonize, yours high and desperate while his are low and satisfied.

He controls it then, letting making you ride him as he controls the way you bounce above him.  His thumb angles down as you bounce, finding your clit, the friction you so desperately need is hitting it perfectly.

“Come on, doll.”  Bucky coaxes you, thumb forming circles around your little nub.

“On what?”  You tease breathlessly, shocked that you’re coherent enough through your pleasure to make a joke.  But it’s not a joke to him, apparently, and his tongue sweeps over his lips as his eyes dart to the place where the two of you are meeting over and over again.

“On me, doll.  All over my cock.”  His voice is low, dangerous, and it’s enough to almost have you reeling.

“Fucking hell.”  You mutter, picking up the pace and grinding yourself against his pelvic bone every time the two of you meet. “Bucky, I’m s-so close.  Fuck, I’m gonna-gon-oh!”

His hands tighten on your hips, keeping the pace going as you come apart on top of him, legs shaking as your walls grip at him.  Those perfect teeth grind as his jaw flexes and you know he can’t last much longer, not with the way you’re milking him.

He howls, not letting his pace falter, that gruff voice and the way he’s spilling his seed inside of you elongating your own climax until you’re both collapsing.

The air is thick and reeks of sex as you fall atop your panting partner.  Not a word is said as kisses are pressed to each other’s temples, bodies shifting so that you’re laying on your back as he rises to his feet.

Before you can wonder what he’s doing, your eyes shut gently.  You’re completely content.  Hell, you’re beyond content.  You’re ellated.  You came twice in one night, at the hands of the man of your dreams and just when you think he couldn’t be more perfect, he’s returned with a wet washcloth to clean you up.

He presses kisses to your lips as he wipes his mess from you, taking care to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible before he gets rid of it and returns to your side.

His heavy frame causes the bed to dip as he slips under the covers.  His strong arms wrap around you, pulling your back flush with his front as he settles onto his pillow.  Lazy kisses are pressed to your bare shoulder blades and you can feel the smile growing against your skin as he presses a particularly long kiss to your skin.

“Goodnight, doll.”  He murmurs sleepily and you can feel sleep pulling at you as well.  Just as you drift off, you respond quietly, not quite catching yourself.

“Goodnight, professor.”

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BOLD ANY FEARS WHICH APPLY TO YOUR MUSE. ITALICIZE WHAT MAKES THEM UNCOMFORTABLE.

tagged by: @paramounticebound

the dark ⋆ fire ⋆ open waterdeep water ⋆ being alone ⋆ crowded spaces ⋆ confined spaces⋆ change ⋆ failure ⋆ war ⋆ loss of control powerlessness ⋆ prison ⋆ blood ⋆ drowningsuffocation ⋆ public speaking ⋆ natural animals ⋆ the supernatural ⋆ heights ⋆ death ⋆ dying⋆ intimacy ⋆ rejectionabandonment ⋆ loss ⋆ the unknown ⋆ the future ⋆ not being good enough ⋆ scary stories ⋆ speaking to new people ⋆ poverty ⋆ loud noisesbeing touched

[ Please REPOST. DO NOT REBLOG. ]

tagging: @imcsoldiergirl | @steeledwill | @motherofwolvcs | @aldrnaari | @unhclybeast | @sxnsibleheart | & literally anyone else that would like to do this! 

More About Anniversaries - It’s About Balance One Shot REQUEST

So, this is the oldest request in my inbox at the moment: 

So I’ve been mulling this over and I’d really like to see Y/N take control in the It’s About Balance series. Harry always seems to be the one to initiate, the one coaxing moans and reactions, talking dirty and in control. And I’d like to see the roles reversed. Not necessarily dom/sub (although that’s another idea) but just the one that becomes the whimpering, writhing mess because of her. I still want him to talk dirty as well though cause he’s so damn good at it. Thanks. You’re a peach :)

I had to think about it for awhile, and then work on it for awhile longer to get the motivation just right. Why is y/n taking control? The young punk IS good at dirty talking and getting his way. But hell hath no fury like a woman whose idiot boyfriend makes the mistake of believing he’s the one who seduced her, and somehow this spun into a nearly 6,000 word short one shot. I do hope that it fits the bill. Enjoy, dear! x. 

GENTLE REMINDER: Requests are closed – you can send things, and maybe I’ll feel inspired in the moment, but other than that I’ll keep them in my inbox for a rainy day/publish them to keep for safekeeping. 

“D’you know what, angel?”

“Hmm?”

Harry has bullied his way into a cuddle with his head is on your lap and you’re running your fingers easily through unruly chestnut ringlets while balancing your computer on the arm of the couch.

“S’been a year.”

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i know it’s looking like a knife fight out there and all you’ve got is your bare hands and that pretty mouth and ennui enough to strip you clean of any feeling:

but i wanna make you remember wind chimes. i want to stand outside and help you count the reasons that the sky feels endless. i want to point out the flowers you miss in all of that darkness. give me your hand, give me everything, i’ll be your guide dog and i’ll lead you out of the emptiness.

listen, i know under all those nightmares there’s something in you that would make my mother laugh. i know that despite all the whiskey, you’d still rather take up dancing. sometimes gardens do a good job at being graveyards. they stacked you in skeletons. you grew willow trees instead.

i’m gonna play god, i’m gonna cause you a miracle. even if i have to use the electricity in my own palms like bodies are crash carts, i’ll restart all of the places of you that have shut down and fizzled out. i’ll forgive you even if your sins burn my tongue off. i’ll kiss you even if you’re a river waiting to swallow me whole. please, please, swallow me whole.

it’s a knife fight, but i’ll be your loaded gun. take me, take me. let me be your one.

—  r.i.d
Loving you is blasphemous. (Quicksilver x Reader)

Pairing: Quicksilver x Reader

Warnings: ANGST, extremely light smut but I’m still going to warn you.

Word count: 1500

Summary:

Being part of the X-men puts quite a strain on Y/N’s life in numerous ways, one being on hers and Peter’s relationship, and she thinks that maybe it’s time to chanfe that. Out of fear of their relationship ending abruptly because of how dangerous their jobs are, and how either them can die on any mission, she decides maybe it’s best to leave.

No matter how badly it hurts both her, and Peter.


EDIT: I edited the summary because the previous one had been written at 3am and made me cringe so hard.

I hope this is better.

A/N:

I have no idea why I can’t go without writing a sad angsty fic for my favorite characters I need help.

No need to cry, next chapter will hopefully be less heart-wrenching and more fluffy. Enjoy!

****

The sun is setting right outside the frosty glass of the window, peaking in oranges and purples and pinks from behind the outline of round green hills.You can feel your chest rise and fall with each heavy breath you take, laying the in mangled crisp white sheets of your bed with a burly pale arm draped over your side. Peter’s snores are almost inaudible, mere takes of small sharp breaths slipping from his nose, but still, you can hear them. You can feel them. They dance on the outline of your backbone climbing up against his warm chest as you two lay molded together, naked, under the comfort of a thin sheet of white.

You blink at the hues of orange seeping into the room, barely enough to reach just past the leg of your bedside table. Winter is coming. You’re going to need to buy yourself and Peter a set of new scarves and socks soon so that you don’t freeze to death like you almost did last year. Your fingernails are still brittle from last year’s case of frostbite, and to this day, the silver-haired boy still complains about how ashy his palms are, despite your constant apologies. But that’s the last thing you’re thinking about right now. Because you’re not thinking.

You’re feeling.

You’re feeling everything—his skin on yours. His breaths. Brief and sharp as he cradles you flush against his nude body. You can feel his heart beating slow and stable like the steps of a marching band; certain, firm.  Your heartbeat is far from that—it’s ragged and rapid and uncoordinated as it thuds within your hollow chest, pounding so hard it feels like it’s going to shatter you.

And you’re not yet certain it won’t.

A break of sunlight hits your eyes, and you squint to shield from its viscous beam, draping a hand across your forehead. You don’t want to get out of bed today—you don’t ever want to get out of bed. You just want to lay here, forever, with your eyes shut tight and your mind finally at bay. It’s only a matter of time before the sun shoots out fully from behind the far off hills, and Charles will burst in asking you and Peter to tag along on yet another life threatening mission. It’s only a matter of time before you’re hauled out of bed, out of your comfort and tranquility, and tossed into your usual nervous mindset that takes hold of you as soon as you’re sent out into the world.For the past few weeks that’s all you’ve been. Jittery. Anxious. A bundle of nerves roaming the halls of the X-mansion, with your fingers intertwined with the only thing keeping you sane.

Peter.

Peter, Peter, Peter.

His name rolls off of your lips like a mantra, words too familiar for your sinful tongue, in an almost a religious manner that leaves you feeling on top of the world. And it’s ironic, because the way you say his name is far from holy.
It’s far from any prayer, or litany or any proclamation to a god made under the confines of a holy building.

And yet, it carries the same weight.

Because in church they will say amen, but in the sheets, nails digging into his flesh, skin pulsing, you will call out his name, and tug once more on his silver hair, and break, begging him to move faster.

This is the last night you say his name with such worship and such reverence. The last time you’ll scream out Peter’s name, sweat dripping from the curve of your hairline as you ride out the euphoria ringing out through your body. And it’s done. Finished. Between your thighs is slicked with pleasure, and your nude body lays limp beside Peter’s. The moment of making love is over. And despite the enjoyment, and the pleasure, and the god-damn completion that comes with having had him inside you, loving you, you’re fighting back tears as you watch the sun rise outside the window. And you know exactly why this time. It’s him and you; together in a relationship that can end in the blink of an eye as soon as the monsters in your head get the best of you.

A relationship dangling by a very thin string that is on the verge of tearing, because of how badly you’ve been feeling of late, because you worry. God, every night, you go to sleep and worry that if you or Peter dies on the next mission you go on, then that will be the end for the other.  Because those are the kinds of thoughts a hero is supposed to have. Because they put their life on the line everyday when you go out to save people from monsters. And it’s gotten too far. You can’t handle it.

One evening, sitting here in this very room, with the lights off, you thought back to the night you nearly died. Peter had been in tears, thinking that you were going to die in his arms; cradling your nimble body against his. You remember exactly how shocked you were, despite the gaping hole in your chest–it was rarity to see him ever let anything get to him—however, this was one of those times and since then, you’ve come to realize how fleeting life is. How, in but a mere second, everything can be ripped from you just like that. How the man you love, currently snaking his arm around your waist, is so terrified of losing you.

And how everyday that you work here at the X-mansion, you’re only leaving room to break his heart more and more. And you can’t do that.

You can’t break Peter’s heart yet again. You can’t—won’t—bring him any sense of anxiety ever again. You won’t have him worry before every mission whether or not you’ll make it back alive, and you won’t worry the same thing for him.
The thought of leaving makes you clamp your eyes shut and wiggling closer into the silver-haired boy’s grasp, but it’s something you’ve been thinking about for months now. Instinctively you feel him wrap  his arm tighter around you, and the action only drives the tears welling in your eyes to spill onto your pillow case, because you can feel the desperation in his clutch, you feel that he doesn’t want to lose you, even in sleep.

It’s not the first time you’ve had these moments—take the hundredth. But each one is more and more painful than the previous. Being with Peter has been the best thing to happen to two messed up people such as yourself, but its toxic.

You’re toxic.

He’s holding you, but you have to leave.

You hold your breath, carefully lifting Peter’s arm off your body and try not to make too much noise as you slide out from his grasp. The sheets beneath you rumple as your feet meet the ground, and you gingerly place Peter’s arm back onto the bed.  At that moment, he shifts a little in his sleep, scrunching up his nose, and your breath catches, but that’s as far as his actions go. He’s still asleep as you sigh in relief and tip toe away from the bed, and go to get your things.

You move around the room, clutching your jeans to your nude body as you look around for your discarded top. The buckle on your belt produces a fluent chime as you bend over, and collect both of your socks littering the floor, and then you move to get your jacket somewhere off to the left. You hear the sheets rustle as soon as you bend down to pick the leather cloth, and your head immediately pipes up. You turn your head to the bed. Peter stirs in his sleep, breathing in deeply as he clutches the blankets to his chest—he thinks it’s you he’s holding, caressing it and dipping his head into it.

Tears spring to your eyes.

You look away, and go to put on your shoes. Once you’ve shimmied into your jeans, and both boots are set on your un-socked feet, you shrug on your top, not bothering with a bra. You’ve decided that beneath your clothing, you’re going to stay naked. At least until you get to your apartment where all your belongings await you, packed in beige and brown cardboard boxes that smell like the remains a dead parent leaves a child in their will, and a lover walking out on their other half.

You’re at the door with your jackets pressed firmly against your chest when you turn your head around for one last time. You see the bumpy outline of Peter’s body alone in the bed, a mere silhouette from how dark the room stands. The moonlight seeps in on the other side of the room, and with it comes the shadow of the tree outside, it’s branches drawn onto the carpeted floor in a dark film.

Your eyes sting with tears, and your lips are quivering. You don’t want go. But you have to.

Your hand reaches for the door knob, and with a violent sob bubbling up your throat, you quickly slide out of the room, delicately shutting the door behind you. You hear it close with an almost silent click, but…

No.

To Peter, whose eyes are now wide open, it’s a bang.

To Peter, whose heart is beating ten-twenty, thirty times faster, it’s a shout.

To Peter, who is trying his hardest to not run to the door and stop you, it’s louder than the pounding of his unhinged heart as he hears the click of your boots fade down the hallway.

His eyes flutter open immediately, irises dilated, whites glazed over by red veins, and sodden.

He was awake.

He had been awake for the past few minutes, but you didn’t know that. You didn’t need to. It would only make things harder for you- make it harder for you to leave, and that’s not what Peter wanted. He turns his head to check the door; you’re gone. Good.

He wanted you to go, to be happy, even if it meant without him.

Peter moves to sit, the sheets crumpling with his movements, and turns his head to look to the door.It takes all he has to hold down the scream within him as he stares at the hard-wood door. Because you’re gone; for real now. And he’s alone.

And you might think you gingerly shut the door on him, but to Peter, laying bed, cold, naked, and invaded; to Peter feeling warm tears slip from his cheeks; to Peter trying his best to suppress a gut-wrenching sob….

you slammed it in his face.

***

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing! If you did, please show some love and like/ reblog. I’ll be posting Part 2 sometime this week, so follow me to keep updated, or, if you just want to read some Quicksilver/ Supernatural oneshots because I have a ton of those lined up.

Have a nice day! :)

i. The summer after i tried to kill myself, i played hangman on the apple tree in our backyard / so Mama strung together a chrysanthemum necklace / to hide the claw-like marks on my neck / i envisioned a Picasso art piece / and tried to chop myself into chunks / so Mama dipped my cuts into salt water / and cupped my mouth when i whimpered / Papa shook his head / not again / i am one part sadness / two parts disappointment / five thousand and twenty-seven parts i wish she wasn’t our daughter

ii. HERE IS WHAT THEY SAY: THEY SAY GO TO WAR QUIETLY / FIGHT YOUR BATTLES IN SILENCE / EVEN WITH A GUN UP YOUR THROAT / PULL THE TRIGGER WITHOUT A SOUND / BECOME A NOISELESS TRAGEDY / THEY SAY WEAR YOUR PAIN LIKE A SUNDAY DRESS / IRONED AND CLEANED / DRINK BLEACH AND RID YOURSELF OF YOUR SINS / BITE YOUR TONGUE / CLENCH YOUR FISTS / DON’T SCREAM / DON’T CRY / DON’T CRY / HIDE YOUR PAIN / BIG GIRLS DON’T CRY

iii. Mama asks me: what is wrong? / but she doesn’t want to know / she stuffs my mouth with yellow flowers / coats me in yellow paint / YELLOW IS THE COLOUR OF HAPPINESS / she sews my mouth shut / that way i won’t speak / jagged upper lip to chapped lower lip / she pulls apart the blinds / and Mama tells me / some sunlight will do me good / she lets the sun burn me / scorch me / sear me / CREMATE ME / yew trees grow in my lungs / wingless crows take flight

iv. So curl me up in an urn, or a coffin / so drown me in yellow / so hide my pain for me / so lock up your shame / NOT MINE / so i am dishonour / SO I AM DISGRACE / so stifle my screams / so scratch out my wounds / so be blind / BE DEAF

SO THEY RUN PITCHFORKS DOWN MY BODY, SO I BLEED IN SILENCE by laetitia k.

I’m Into You

Steve x Reader

This is something between a one shot and a drabble, inspired by the song I’m Into You by Chet Faker.  

This is all smut.  Starts and ends with sex.  No foul words, but it’s only sex.

Words: 684

NSFW gifs beneath the cut!  Well, they don’t show anything really. Just use caution if you are iffy about anything like that.

Keep reading

jenothesquish  asked:

neck kisses- jungkook

It started slow, on the lips before it went further down, his cheek and down to his jaw. You felt his soft skin press against your lips, it haunted your lips when you lifted your head up to press another further down.

His neck, fuzzy. You pressed your lips against it and sucked on it, a strained moan rolled off his tongue. You slightly bit down on the tender skin and soothed it with your tongue. Another sinful moan left his lips, they were addictive. “Jagiya it feels so good”.

Sunblind.

Okay. I’m here to tell you guys about Sunblind.


This isn’t really a review, it’s just me gushing about how amazing this piece is. Sunblind is a collection of poems by @ibuzoo / @rmeisel, telling the story of Apollo and Icarus, two mythological figures, as lovers in the modern age. And it is phenomenal.


To give you guys an idea of what ruined me, let me share some of my favorite quotes (I had to cut down the list so I wouldn’t make this too long oops)


“There are no words left in his body so he cuts and punches his way through life. I heard he once woke up in a bathtub full of ice and half of his organs out. Fourteen scars are all over his body. I wonder what made him become such a monster.” (Things overheard about Apollo by passing, Page 8)


“The bitter scent of the sun is all around you, drenches you to the bones and you count the sins on your tongue and dream of a voice that called you crossfire in your sleep.” (Suburbia, Page 22)


“You’re desperate. As if your life depends on me. Selectively blind. Prepare for the kill my dear. This will be ugly.” (I am the Sun, I do not weep, Page 26)


“The twenty-first century leaves nothing of imagination. All burns will heal with time. The rain left scars all over my back. Sometimes the sun shines through the afternoon sky and it looks like falling diamonds. I’ll teach myself to be happy. You stare at me like a criminal right before you kiss me. Falling feels like flying. Nothing spells b r o k e n like f o r e v e r.” (Lies Icarus told recently, Page 30)


“He falls to your feet, knees on the ground, eyes up to the sun, obedient. You watch history repeat itself because you never learnt from your elders and you can’t do anything to stop him from falling. Eventually, you lose count. His name tastes bitter on your tongue now. You blink and he’s gone. You know how this will end. Embrace the flight and kiss the boy goodbye.” (Paperthin, Page 32)


He patches you up in places no one should be allowed to touch. Can’t you see? A strangled shout - Apollo are you even listening? I am, he says, hollow like the echo of an old record, played too often. But I am already his, he doesn’t say but instead thinks of sun kissed backs and the marks on greedy bones.” (Fall of the Sun, Page 38)


“The way he kisses his knuckles right before he wipes away my tears. When he follows every breakdown with a punchline and carries his pain until it consumes him. The act of love that spells murder on his shoulders.” (A collection of things that Icarus loves about Apollo, Page 39)


You’ll get better, they say. You’ll live. Wrong, they’re so wrong. You survive, not live. How brave of you.” (One, Two, Three - Breathe, Page 90)


“When you see him again, don’t say a word. He’s burned and scorched and healed in enough places already. There’s no need to burn him down again…Remember: you’re a God, you’re immortal. You were always meant to lose him to the waves. (On loving the boy with wings, Page 93)


I. Just.


This collection broke my heart. After I finished it I pretty much fell into a coma and I had to go for a walk. (Sounds dramatic, I know. But seriously.) This week at home has been strictly autumn weather, with bright skies but icy wind. I kept squinting in the sun and every time I did I would think about Apollo, his blue eyes glaring in the light, and feel my chest get heavy. Did you think reading just caused emotional pain? No, get ready for Sunblind to sucker punch you and laugh as you slowly bleed out.


I don’t really think I can choose a favorite poem, because every one had me practically crying, but I think the character that I felt most gravitated to was Apollo. He seems so unique to me. The way the author paints him is so mesmerizing and I was immediately attached. So many of the lines from his perspective hit me so hard. (To be honest, he likely reminds me of myself a bit too much.) So thank you, @rmeisel, for ruining me with a boy who used to be vague and one dimensional in my Latin textbooks, but is now very real and smirks at me every time I walk into the sunlight. Also, I adore that Artemis was in a few of the pieces. Thank you for that too. 


Honestly, thank you for everything. Genuinely, thank you for sharing this book with us. It was absolutely shattering, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. 


Also…because I’m a nerd on every facet, if anyone’s interested, here’s some music that I was reminded of while reading: 


Silence - Koven

Intro - Boy Meets Evil - BTS

Can’t Live - Karmin

Wild (Young Bombs Remix) - Troye Sivan

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, igniting every nerve; your skin prickled under his roaming mouth and hands, back arching into his touch.

“Hoseok -”

Your sharp gasp echoed in the otherwise quiet room as his hand connected roughly to your outer thigh.

“What was that, [Y/N]?”

“S-sir,” You hurried to correct yourself, tongue darting out to dampen your dry lips, a bead of perspiration from your upper lip catching on your tongue.

“Good girl.” He muttered the praise against the swell of your breast, pressing a gentle kiss to your sternum. He trailed wet kisses and sharp nips between your breasts and down to your lower ribs, his hands pinching and tugging at the hardened buds of your nipples.

Your body writhed and squirmed under him, hands clenching into tight fists as you wanted nothing more than to entangle your fingers into his thick brown locks, to force his mouth and tongue to where you really wanted - no, needed him.

However the soft silken ties that had been knotted around your wrists kept your hands pinned above you, the ties secured to the beams of the headboard so you were immobile. You could do little else but arch into him and endure the teasing caresses.

“Sir, please.” You nudged Hoseok with your leg as best as you could, hoping he’d get the hint to stop teasing.

Hoseok chuckled and pulled back, sitting back on his feet between your stretched legs. His predatory gaze swept over your appearance, dark eyes drinking in the sight of your bound wrists, the thick black cloth that covered your pretty eyes and if he bothered to look behind him, he’d see the ropes that kept your legs open and spread.

Hoseok’s attention flickered to your entrance, the tale tell signs of your wetness glistening on your outer lips. Hoseok ran two fingers across your wet slit, skimming over your clit; a guttural groan being ripped from your throat, the action unexpected.

“I’ve barely touched you and you’re practically dripping.” He mused, languidly stroking you a few times, letting your wetness gather on his fingertips. With a sly smirk you couldn’t see, Hoseok placed his fingers into his mouth, sucking at the digits and humming in appreciation at the taste of you.

He released his fingers with a lewd pop and a, “ah, baby girl, you taste so good,” He grinned when your lips parted and a barely audible whimper left you, your body trembling in anticipation of what was to come.

“But, I think, it’d be better to taste from the source, don’t you agree?” He cooed, bending down and wrapping his lips around your entrance, his sinful tongue flicking against your aching clit.

A broken moan of sir tumbled out of your mouth as your body bucked forwards, fingernails leaving half moons into your palms as his teeth grazed against your clit.

His dark eyes flickered up to your covered eyes and a smirk spread across his handsome face, blunt fingernails dragging down your sides.

The promise of more to come when the command of don’t cum was muttered against your inner thigh with a sharp bite that sent a thrill down your spine.

Tease Much?

for subjecta15-thedangerous at th request for a smutty Minho fic.
words: idek
warnings: swearing and smut
-

The teasing started last night and so wasn’t over. Minho was still asleep and it was five in the morning according to your watch. The two of you sleep together, run together, eat together; you’re inseparable. The duty of being a runner meant you had to get up earlier than everyone but you’re lazy boyfriend wouldn’t awake. So, a thought popped into your head. You very carefully pulled down your boyfriend’s pants and underwear, taking his soft cock in your mouth. You began to bob your head up and down, feeling it harden and hearing Minho groan, meaning he’s waking up. You wrapped your hand around the part you couldn’t fit in your mouth since he’s quite big, and swirled your tongue around the tip as you stripped his cock with your hand. Minho bucked his hips up, fucking himself into the heat of your mouth. You knew he’d be coming soon so you pulled off with a wet pop and Minho whined at the loss of contact.
“Get up, big boy, time to get ready.” Jumping off the makeshift mattress, you strip off your shirt as well as your pajama shorts, shucking both items to the side. Stepping back through the door once you’ve grabbed your running gear and clothes, you saw Minho staring.
“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled out and you chuckled, shrugging on your shirt and pulling up your shorts. Your breasts were small, but full, and you didn’t need a bra while running. Minho thought you were insane because of it—he wears special underwear to hold his junk in place.
“C’mon lazy bones. We need to get in that maze and back. I’m going to get breakfast.” with that, you left your boyfriend open-mouthed and by his lonesome.
When done with your breakfast, you returned to your room you share with Minho to find him all read to go. He winked at you and jogged out the door. Quickly shrugging on your backpack, you followed in suit. Minho was waiting for you by the doors, smirking that cocky smirk of his that made you want to jump his bones.
“Ready, Y/n?”
“Hell yeah, hot stuff.” You took off sprinting into the maze with your love.
-
All throughout the morning until lunch you’ve whispered naughty things into Minho’s ear whenever you got the chance.
At a corner you said, “I could suck you off right here and no one would even know.”
He stopped in his tracks and looked at you as if he was a fish out of water, lust sparkling a tiny bit in his eyes.
At the east wall, you shoved him against it and said, “I’d ride you so hard, make you scream my name and mark my back with scratches.” That got you a hard squeeze on the ass.
At the west wall you had said, “Feel you up and strip you down, make you beg for me.” and along with the statement, you palmed his dick before sprinting off into the depths of the maze. Minho groaned loudly and dreaded the slow going time before lunch.
-
Lunch time arrived and your boyfriend couldn’t take it anymore. He pushed you up against the wall, crashing his full lips upon yours. Smirking, you tangled your hand in his hair and grind your hips against his. Minho pushed your hips against the wall, growling a “No.” and he attacked your neck with nips and more rougher bites, making you whimper; need growing in your core, you could already feel your panties growing damp. Minho slid his hand up your shirt, cupping your breasts and flitting his thumb across your nipple. That pulled a moan out of you, being your nipples are super sensitive. His other hand found it’s way down into your bottoms, his fingers brushed back and forth over your clit, driving you to insanity.
“P-please, Minho. I need you.”
“You’re going to wait, princess.”
Minho pulled down your bottoms and panties, sinking to his knees and lined his face up with your core. His sinful tongue teased between your folds. A gasp escaped your mouth. Minho’s tongue swirled in circles and other patterns, toying with you. Thumbs still torturing you by fondling your breasts. It was all so much pleasure.
“Minho, please.”
He slid up your body, hot breath hitting your cold skin which caused you to shiver. Minho crashed his lips to yours in a powerful kiss.
“We didn’t pack anything.” You trusted Minho that he was safe, so you didn’t need protection.
“It’s okay, I trust you.” Minho nodded and kissed you once more before sliding in. You were already so wet that it helped ease the pain. Giving you time to adjust, he watched your face for the go ahead: you gave it. He thrust in while he linked his finger with yours, setting pace. Pleasure coursed your veins and you begged him to go faster, the current slow pace not sufficing your needs. Minho obliged, thrusting harder and faster. Moans and the sound of skin against skin echoed off the walls. His other hand circled against your swollen bud, and that sent you overboard. You shouted out his name and exploded into a white hot bliss, panting. Minho came shortly afterwards, collapsing atop you.
-
Walking out of the maze, your boyfriend and you smelled of sex and sweat. Your best friend, Gally, approached you and his eyes went wide.
“Y/N!” You chuckled and grabbed his arm, dragging him to the map room with you and you give him all the gory details.