and come on! you did not think i would let this pass me by right

Roommates (M)

Originally posted by bwipsul

╳ Pairing: Jimin x Reader 

╳ Genre: (one shot) smut and kinda fluff & angst ??

╳ Summary: Being roommates with your best friend can be fun until one day you look at him differently. 

(this is something that I found that I had written months ago and just decided to post it!!)


The day you looked at your best friend as more than a friend, you knew you were screwed. It happened out of nowhere. You just woke up one morning and looked at him differently. You were never going to tell anyone, you weren’t stupid. That would just lead to Jimin being freaked out and nothing being the same. Risking your friendship with Jimin was not worth the little crush you had on him.

Deciding that you couldn’t fall back asleep, you got up to start the morning. Walking into the kitchen to get some breakfast, you didn’t notice your best friend standing there.

“Holy shit! Jimin, you scared me!” You yelled, clutching your chest.

“What’s gotten you so jumpy?” Jimin asks, laughing while opening the refrigerator

Keep reading

I’ve compiled a list of bughead fanfiction I’ve really liked for everyone in the bughead fam! don’t worry if your fic isn’t on here! this is a pretty small list(i read a lot) and i’ll probably make a p2, hope you enjoy xox. 

  • all in english.
  • most of the fics are on ao3 and some on tumblr. 
  • non completed fics will have *.  

smut 

  • you taste like strawberries by aplaceformyshipstoanchor -  Betty gets a job waitressing at Pop’s Diner and Jughead has no problem watching her work. When a situation at work gets sticky, Jughead has no problem helping Betty clean up. 
  • goldilocks by lusterrdust -  Her hair just does something to him.
  • touch me, tease me by lusterrdust -  Jughead is enamored with her, her blonde hair spilling over them like a lustrous curtain and enhancing the sounds of their breathing. He wants to declare his eternal love. He wants to pour out sonnets and ballads and write novels about every freckle on her skin, every blue shade in her eye. He wants to trace his fingers over every inch of her body until there’s no part he hasn’t memorized.
  • friends with benefits by heytherejones * 
  • third time’s the charm by septemberbeauty13 - “Oh God, get a room!” Cheryl said in passing, pushing past them to get to her locker. That was enough to push Betty into a fit of giggles, burying her head into Jughead’s chest. “You know,” Jughead whispered. “I don’t normally take advice from redheads but this is sound advice.”or Jughead and Betty try very hard to get a room. 
  • resplendent by lusterrdust - A bright light all her own, his shadows are drenched in her radiance. 
  • three words by lusterrdust - Betty is an addiction Jughead never wants to be rid of. 
  • stars by lusterrdust - Despite the gritty, gravelly exterior he presents to the world, Jughead is the epitome of sweet toward her. He’s tender and considerate and just the right amount of reticent to be endearing. And though she loves that about him, Betty’s not in the mood for slow and sweet. 
  • in distance by lusterrdust -  It’s the little things he notices that make him ache for her to come back home. 
  • camp stories by jugandbettsdetectiveagency -  Betty and Jughead end up sharing a tent when the core four go camping. 
  • close calls and getting caught by wordsonpages1 - four times Betty and Jug didn’t get caught doing inappropriate *things* and then the one time they did. 
  • up close and personal (part 1, part 2) by wordsonpages1 
  • they suck at being quiet by heytherejones

angst 

  • fall in light by sylwrites - She moved to New York to find herself, but as the saying goes: wherever you go, there you are. 
  • hotdog by burgerheadjones - “Easy, Hotdog! He’s family.” How Hotdog becomes Betty and Jughead’s family in every sense. Or, where we trace the life of Hotdog with Bughead.
  • the stacks by malmo722 * - After a senior prank goes wrong, River Vixen Betty Cooper is forced to complete community service at the Riverdale Public Library with high school outcast, Jughead Jones. Romance ensues. 
  • the unexpected by spxcewvlker - "She loved that she had found peace in his arms, and comfort in his glittering blue eyes. She loved him.“ In which Jughead helps Betty with her anxiety. 
  • beanie boy by bugheadandjughead * -  “You were lonely, homeless, broken. I just gave you a place to stay.” Beanie Boy Jughead and Good Girl Betty are in it together… until romantic feelings for each other bloom between them.
  • self conclusion by nopleasestayhere - Betty Cooper is sitting at the edge of a cliff, thinking about jumping, when Jughead Jones comes to do the same thing. Betty tries to talk him down. He gives her 48 hours to change his mind. Can they help each other? 
  • drown by lusterrdust - Loss… injustice…unfairness… it’s the ugly truth of life. There doesn’t have to be a reason or a person to blame. Sometimes, misfortune just is. 
  • i’ll wait for you by AGirlNamedWhiskey * - Betty Cooper just wanted to survive her Senior year, but after being coerced into covering an underground racing competition, against a rival school, she knew her life would never be the same. Especially, when she meets the infamous street racer, Jughead Jones. 
  • space and time by agirlnamedwhiskey * - After their abrupt breakup, Jughead Jones is on a mission to win back Betty Cooper. 
  • living with betty cooper by believe_that_you_can_my_friend  - Jughead Jones, facing the reality of having nowhere to stay anymore after the Drive-In gets shut down, finds temporary shelter at the Blue & Gold office. But what happens when an upset Betty Cooper catches him on the act? 
  • red sunrise by lusterrdust -  Lifting her hand up, her thumb twirls the band on her ring finger until the diamond digs into her pinky. She pushes the jewel against the skin until it stings, redirecting her emotional pain into the physical.

fluff 

  • once upon a coffee shop by javajunkie * -  Betty works at a coffee shop where Jughead is a regular customer. 
  • your eyes look like coming home by ariquitecontrary - Betty Cooper and Jughead Jones who have both seen the world in color since they met each other when they were two years old. Everyone always says that they’re so lucky to have met when they were so young, that they have their whole lives to be together and in love. There’s just one teeny tiny problem. Betty and Jughead hate each other. 
  • foldin’ clothes by birdlovesafish -  Jughead contemplates he and Betty’s situation and he does laundry. 
  • it happened one starry night by one_starry_night 
  • skin to skin by burgerheadjones * - Jughead Jones doesn’t know how the crimson crescents ended up on his palms.Betty Cooper is clueless when it comes to the messages on her arms.Soulmate AU where all the little marks and injuries belonging to Betty and Jughead start finding themselves on each other’s skin. 
  • drop in the ocean by lusterrdust - She can feel the tickle and scrape of coarse sand against their bare legs, but pays it no mind. Her focus is consumed with her boyfriend’s touch and the trail of heat his fingers leave against her skin. 
  • the exception to the rule by ShirlyGallagher 
  • do you believe in fate? by Jennimisk * - Is there such a thing as a coincidence? Or do we create our own reality because of the choices we make and the people that we let into our lives? Regardless of what you believe, sometimes you just need to be open to what the universe is throwing your way.This is a non-canon AU work based on Jughead and Betty during their college years. They have no prior relationship before meeting in Rome, Italy. 
  • dry run by Naoko Asakura - She drew a line and offered to let him cross it. 
  • lost and found by lusterrdust - Maybe as a seventeen-year-old, sneaking kisses with the blonde he’d been in love with at the time—maybe he’d had a thought or two of her as a mother; a boy’s fantasy of the blissful domesticity he never had. 
  • red lipstick by lusterrdust -  She pulls the passenger mirror down and wipes her red lipstick off, smudging the color across her skin and marking it in a way that reminds Jughead of bee stung lips after a kiss. 
  • to the first of many by jugandbettsdetectiveagency - Betty’s first Mother’s Day begins with a not-so-welcome wake up from Hot Dog. 
  • first apartment by peacelovebughead - A short series of one-shots of Bughead in their first apartment

series

  • break free and run by sylwrites - A Bughead college AU set in Boston; featuring Veronica and Betty as roommates, and Jughead living off campus with his dad. 
  • fall in light by sylwrites * 
  • like home by lusterrdust * 
  • bizarre love triangle by ficmuse * - When Jughead stumbles upon the yearbook from the Class of 1991, secrets are revealed that will forever alter how the teens of Riverdale view their parents.
You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt

Masterlist linked in bio


If there’s one thing Y/n can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.

Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.

Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”

It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. Y/n provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question, “how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve been okay” filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be unsuccessful.

And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new girlfriend.

It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel blogger.

She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him, especially at the height of his career.

Y/n’s heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.

Y/n hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.

She believed him, too. That with maybe some time apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.

She should have never been so gullible. After they broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut, leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. Y/n never got over him. How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.

But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing, leaving Y/n on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it had happened so soon.

“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of Y/n’s hand; a small gesture that Gabby has been giving Y/n nearly every day for the past four months.

Y/n wishes she found it as comfortable as it intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since the breakup. Everything was because of pity.

She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.

“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”

Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, Y/n’s sleep schedule has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for Y/n whenever she had the chance.

“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks. “It’s on me if you want anything.”

Y/n shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her mouth as she shakes her head.

“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of milk and flour the other day.”

“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting quite full, anyways.”

“Yeah, sure” Y/n nods, “sounds fine.”


The entrance doors chime when Y/n and Gabby enter the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the necessary ingredients Y/n needs for when she gets home.

When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, Y/n bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for “mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and spend the rest of her day in bed.

When she stands back up from her squatting position, her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying fall onto the floor.

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” Y/n gasps, scrambling to pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.

When Y/n stands back up to return her fallen items, it was as if every nightmare Y/n has ever had was standing right in front of her.

She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her wellbeing. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.

It’s when Y/n’s eyes drift down to the shirt she’s wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.

The word Lover printed inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest. It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.

That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to Y/n and Harry.

Lover.

It was a nickname Y/n always gave Harry. She would have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how unique and rare their relationship was, too.

Harry had never been called that before, but there was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that, he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and Y/n wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.

And the more she said it, the more she realized that there was no other name to describe him.

She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary. She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her. But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.

The shirt became sentimental to their relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them. The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.

This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from his tongue.

Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to their relationship. And every time Y/n saw him wearing it, she found it irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.

My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect on you.

She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting that she should be the one to take it.


He looked down at the shirt all crinkled in his hands, the last compromise they had to make before Y/n officially moved out of their home. Her suitcases were packed neatly by the front door, the darkened sky from the storm waiting to approach making the house feel colder than it already had turned.

Y/n’s body was slumped against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes red with inevitable tears as they were forced to face the harsh reality of what was to come.

After three years of a relationship neither of them expected to end, Harry had insisted that they take a break from each other. With his career coming to its peak and Y/n spending most of her time in the office, their relationship was going through a rough patch that lasted far too long.

“You paid for this, you know,” Harry whispered, obstructing the silence that seemed to make the air around them thicker and harder to breathe, “this is yours, always has been.”

Y/n shook her head, a few loose tears falling from her face as she did so. In all honesty, she didn’t want to be reminded of it after this. It’s held so much meaning between the two of them throughout a majority of their years being together that she couldn’t stomach the thought of looking at it in her selection of wardrobe. Not when Harry won’t be by her side, not when Harry won’t be apart of her life anymore.

She placed her hand on top of his softly, stroking the knuckles of his clenched fingers with her thumb.

“It was ours. But when it comes down to it, I bought it for you. It was a gift, you should keep it.”

Harry clenched his fingers harsher against the fabric, his quivered lips attempting a small smile as he lifted it to his chest. His thumb traced the heart above the pocket, watching as one of his tears soak into the material.

“It looks better on you anyways.” Y/n tried to laugh through the silent cries, but neither of them had the heart to make light of the situation they were facing.

Harry’s eyes narrowed down at her while a small sigh fell from his lips.

“You know I’d never wear this again, right? Not until we find our way back to each other.”

Y/n’s shaken hands wiped the tears from her cheeks, her lips pursed together to ensure her broken sobs wouldn’t surface until she was alone in her car.

“Yeah, until we find our way back.”

She stood on her toes to reach his cheek, where she tentatively placed a kiss on the flushed skin.

“You’ll always be my lover.”


But looking back at it now, she wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a grocery store, crying pathetically in front of a complete stranger if she had just taken the damn thing.

How could he do this to me?

“Babe, are these eggs alr—“

Harry’s words get caught in his throat when he sees Y/n standing in front of Jessica with tears streaming down her face and cries shaking her body.

At first, his instinct is to reach his hand out to her. But as his eyes follow her tearful gaze to Jessica’s shirt, which is far too large for her frame, but still being worn on her body, the realization hits him that it’s probably the last thing she would want.

He flutters his eyes shut as an unbearable feeling starts to rise in his stomach. This is the most unfortunate time to see Y/n again, and he can’t imagine how much hatred flowing through Y/n’s system as he stands there, cowardly silenced.

Not a word comes out of his mouth. Not even a pathetic stutter of her name, or even a lift of his lips to greet her in the most minimal of ways.

The only thought swirling through Y/n’s mind is how could you not say anything to me? After everything you did, after what I’m witnessing now, how is there not one word to say?

He watches as pain settles in her eyes as she looks at him. It’s as if she’s begging for an explanation, or even an apology he doesn’t really mean. She’s just looking for something, and knowing that she’s not getting anything is taking all the remaining life out of her.  

But he has so much to say. There are so many apologies, so many thoughts all scrambling in his head that everything becomes incoherent. He wants to tell her how sorry he is, and how hard it is to live with himself after all that he’s done to her. He wants to tell her that he never gave her that fucking shirt, that Jessica found it in one of his drawers and put it on while he was still sleeping from the night before. He wants to tell her that it isn’t what it looks like, that it isn’t what everybody thinks this is. But his throat tightens and his tongue suddenly becomes numb, completely preventing him from saying all the things he wishes to say.

“Y/n, is everything alr—”

Gabby halts when she discovers Y/n’s crying body being watched by the very two people that broke her heart. She’s breaking, so evidently breaking and neither one of them are doing anything about it.

“I w—want to go home.” Y/n’s voice cracks, face twisting as Harry still doesn’t find anything to say to her. “Let’s just go home.”

If Gabby hadn’t witnessed her best friend go through so much pain within the last four months, she would have been able to contain all the rage she’s held toward Harry. But something inside of her snaps when she sees the shirt Jessica’s wearing.

“No!” Gabby spits.

Before anybody sees it happening, Gabby slams her fists against Harry’s chest. Jessica begins to scream while Y/n jumps in an attempt to remove Gabby’s wild arms away from him.

Harry doesn’t do anything to defend himself, though, as he allows her to keep swinging her arms at him. All he can think about it how much he deserves it—how much he deserves all of what’s coming at him.

“You’re such a fucking jerk, Harry!” Gabby roars. “You ruined her! Who the fuck do you think you are?!“

“Gab, stop.” Y/n mumbles, finally able to capture her arms.

Gabby squirms as she tries to escape Y/n’s harsh hold on her, but against Y/n’s anger mixed with all her overwhelming emotions, there is no match.

Y/n starts to push Gabby toward the doors, and it takes every bit of strength left in her to not turn around to look at him one last time. 

“You’re her biggest mistake! I hope you know that!”

BTS as Roommates

Jin:

  • ”hey, Third Guy From The Left, pass the remote”
  • cleans up after you, cooks for you, nags a lot; he’s basically your second mom
  • your friends coming over to hit on him
  • which he’s totally down with; “I’m worldwide handsome, what do you expect?”
  • your parents wishing you two would get together
  • you two cuddle sometimes and it’s fine, it’s nothing romantic. just two friends chilling in each others arms,, move along ppl, nothing to see here
  • you’re his taste tester
  • so he often makes you stand by while he cooks, so he can spoon boiling hot sauce from the pot into your mouth to ask if he needs more salt
  • buys you BTS merch
  • “I better be your ultimate bias” “look at me, I’m everyone’s bias and bias wrecker” “the real visual of BTS taehyung better back off”

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

Suga:

  • you joke that he’s basically a ghost
  • he’s usually not there, since he’s at the studio or doing promotions, concerts, etc. and when he is there, he’s sleeping
  • whenever he’s there and actually awake you’re like “who are you? I didn’t know you lived here” “shut up and tell me what there is to eat in this house. are there any lamb skewers?”
  • like I said, he’s mostly not there but when he is, he wants to spend some time hanging with you. the boys are fine but he’s so Tired of their antics that time with you is like a breath of fresh air
  • you don’t do much, just watch tv and order take out but it suites you both just fine. he usually shit talks other celebs during that time, so you know all the inside gossip
  • “wait, he’s cheating on her with the model??” you gasp
  • “yeah, I caught them fucking backstage”
  • “well, damn :( he was my bias”

Originally posted by sugastoungetechonawlogy

J-Hope:

  • so f*cking loud omg u wonder why you still live with him
  • he’s energetic and loud (I can’t stress the loud part) for the most part, even waking you up with pans banging or singing in your ear
  • insists on “roommate bonding time” which is just an excuse to go out, get drunk & bring back f*ck buddies
  • has the LOUDEST sex
  • and walls are thin
  • but he apologizes w pizza so,, there’s perks to that
  • walks around half naked
  • flirts w your hot friends/family members but always asks you if it’s okay to make a serious move on any of them. he doesn’t want to cross any lines that would leave tension between you two
  • keeps trynna hook you up with one of the boys “except Joonie he’s gross” “he’s exactly like you” “exactly”
  • always texts & snaps you, sometimes about roommate stuff (”did I leave the stove on?” “which brand of popcorn should I pick up?” “did I leave my keys in the apartment?”) and sometimes just to chat
  • he likes to send you updates about BTS
  • he facetimed you at the BBMAS and does so just in general, so you get to see what idol life is really like … lots of sitting backstage, tired but running on adreneline, being hungry, etc

Originally posted by btsarekings

Rap Monster:

  • your place is the hangout spot. the guys always come over whether it’s to chill or hold house parties where you’re like “let’s not get twisted and ruin the furniture” but uh,, let’s just say you two aren’t getting your deposits back
  • refuses to let the guys even hit on you; “you’re too good for them. I’d rather hook you up with someone better. do you like Jackson? wait, nvm he’s worse than us”
  • totally cool w you bringing back one night stands
  • hell, he slips you protection too if you need it
  • is also very aware of you when you’re both out, that no one tries to slip you something or take advantage of you
  • takes you home if you’re too drunk
  • nurses you as you throw up but gives you hell for it the next day
  • he’s basically more like your chill cousin than a roommate

Originally posted by snowmons

Jimin: 

  • proTECT PROTECT Protect at ALL Costs
  • he denies this but he loves having you dote on him
  • it’s a nice feeling, to come back after a long day to your food, a warm home and just chill on the couch with you
  • he feels comfortable around you, talking about his worries or about his day
  • turns into Big Brother mode if you’re going to a party or if you start dating. no guy/gal even sets foot into that apartment unless they’re 100% Jimin approved
  • you’re both protective of each other, like siblings, so living together is a joy

Originally posted by bwipsul

V: 

  • super touchy,, everyone thinks you’re dating but nah man it’s just friends kissing friends, how’s that not normal?
  • will crawl into your bed quite often
  • brings home food
  • insists on late night “adventures” to the convenience store, where you just buy junk food and movies on sale
  • jungkook practically lives there
  • you keep “joking” that he needs to pay rent but it’s not a joke anymore like seriously u use up all our hot water give us money
  • he loves having ppl over, not just jungkook lol, but your friends and his other friends,, your place is usually busy and always a warm environment
  • buys you matching “friendship” outfits and bracelets that legit are just friendship stuff, no dating
  • he tells you about his crushes (even before jungkook but don’t tell him)
  • and you two stay up some nights, stalking yours and his crushes, on their social media accounts, having panic attacks when you accidentally like shit from 38 weeks ago

Originally posted by bwipsul

Jungkook:

  • watching anime 25/8
  • offering him protection when jimin stays over; “but we’re just friends” “yeah right sure. just hmu if you need them”
  • it took him a whole year to warm up to you though
  • he was so awkward and shy, often keeping his distance
  • he walked in on you pooping once and it took two months for him to walk back into the apartment (he’d been sleeping on jin’s couch lol)
  • now he farts around you
  • you two rank the fart based on sound, funniness and smell
  • *choking* *tearing up* “good one (y/n) that’s a solid 11/10″
  • will blush himself to death if you bring home someone
  • doesn’t really bring anyone over himself. he’s too uncomfortable w the fact that you’re there to try anything.
  • doing childish shit like pranks and eating each others sweets
  • “kook did u eat my green sweets?”
  • jk, with green tongue: “no, how could u accuse me??”

Originally posted by nnochu

Lazy

Summary: Pure porn without plot. You wake up and spend a morning with Sam and Dean.

Warnings: Smut, threesome (no Wincest), anal sex

Word Count: 2650ish

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy! XOXO

Too hot. Too bright. Everything feels heavy and suffocating, like you’re trapped or tied down. Leg muscles twitch, but you can’t move them as you force your brain to swim toward the surface, try to break your mind out of its haze.

And then you wake up.

For just a moment, you focus only on your breath. You wake up like this two or three times a week, have ever since you started hunting, and it will only take your body a few seconds to calm down.

Keep reading

Twister (M)

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3,009

Summary: You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t expected a game of Twister with your boyfriend Jungkook to turn into something much less innocent.

Requested by @0bluewater2

Keep reading

Baseball (M)

(I can’t get over baseball Jungkook so I had to write something)

╳ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader 

╳ Genre: smut | One shot

╳ Summary: You hated being dragged to baseball games because your best friends boyfriend was on the team. But maybe this time wasn’t going to be so bad.


“You know I hate baseball” You said, your arm being dragged as your friend pulled you across your lawn.

“Yes, and basically any sport” Your friend Rylee said, unlocking her car door. “But today is his big game and I really want you to come along!”

Keep reading

Trust Fall

Langst/Klance short fic

Trust is a weird thing, isn’t it? It’s something people take so seriously, yet they also turned it into a game. Lance just falls, and sees what happens.

-

“Oof!”

Lance made a grunt sound as he hit the ground in front of Pidge. Pidge shook her head slowly, gripping her laptop closer to her body.

“I trusted you.” Lance narrowed his eyes up to her. He laid there, arms splayed on his sides, a pout playing on his face. “I even gave you a warning.”

Pidge rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Do you think I’m just gonna drop my laptop to catch you for your dumb game? I’m sorry, Lance, but I’m really busy right now.”

Lance pout deepens, but nodded his head in understanding as Pidge lowered her face to give him a smile.

“Next time buddy, okay?”

-

Lance wanted to try it again, but this time it was with Hunk.

Lance walked a slow pace towards Hunk, humming innocently and tunefully, his arms at his sides until he was a close enough to Hunk for him to make the catch.

“Trust fall!” Lance shouted, turning his back and letting gravity take him down, falling, hoping a pair of arms would catch him.

Sadly, there weren’t.

“Oh, Lance!!” Hunk shouted in surprise, almost dropping, his plates, “Stop doing that! I can’t catch you with my hands full!!”

Hunk set the plates he was going to use for the food later down, holding out his hand for Lance to take, which he does.

“I trusted you.” Lance chuckled jokingly, narrowing his eyes as he did with Pidge. He grabbed the plates down and handed them back to Hunk.

“Sorry, dude,” Hunk frowned as soon as his hands was full of the plates again. He shifted his arms for a better position for the plates, and smiled. “Just kinda caught me off guard.”

“Ahh, don’t worry, it’s just fun and games,” Lance shrugged, “Don’t drop me next time, butterfingers.” He chuckled, and Hunk gave him a smile and shook his head, nudging Lance’s arm with his own.

“Next time, buddy, okay?”

-

Keith was next on his list.

It was after training of course. Lance had waited for Keith to be done with the bot, as it fell hard to the ground in pieces, Keith ended the session and moved out of the training area, where Lance waits for him near the entrance.

Lance was a little nervous for this one, considering that he would expect Keith to be the last person to catch him. But reality is, Lance doesn’t care if Keith catched him or not.

Because he already trusts Keith with his life.

Lance cracked a smirk, his arms ready to be stretched out, falling back on either against the cold floor of the castle, or the warmth of Keith’s arms and body.

He popped out, seeing the surprise in Keith’s purple eyes, and fell back.

“Trust fall!!!” He yelled.

Gravity took him, but instead of a pair of arms catching him, it was the whole body instead, taking both Keith and himself to the ground.

Whoops.

“Agh, LANCE!!” Keith groaned, “Get your dead weight off of me!!”

Lance laughed playfully, like a puppy looking for attention.

“Keeeeeith,” he pouted, sitting up and straddling his hips purposely, “I trusted you!”

Lance could’ve sworn he saw a quick pink flush on Keith’s cheeks, but he let that thought out of his mind.

Keith pursed his lips, not knowing what to do as if Lance straddling his hips was a once in a life kind of thing.

Keith gritted his teeth. “Get. Off.”

Lance would be hurt by this, but he caught the flicker of a smile on the corner of Keith’s mouth, knowing he was enjoying this as much as he was.

“I swear to God, LANCE!!” Keith whined, “You’re crushing me!!”

Lance grinned widely, and crossed his arms, a thought running across his mind.

“Promise me you’ll catch me next time, then.” Lance smirked.

“Lance-”

Lance smiled again, taking his hands and tickling Keith’s sides, causing him to laugh uncontrollably. A laugh that could save his life, a sound that he finds the most comfort in when the days were dark.

Lance laughed wildly too. “Promise me!”

“I-haha!!-I-sTOP IT!!” Lance caught tears in Keith’s eyes from laughing too hard, clutching his sides and wiggling underneath Lance, his body warm from the contact.

“I PROMISE!!”

-

Lance decided that his next target shall be Shiro.

But hey, what other ways can he spend his time around the castle without having a little fun for himself?

He peered around the corridor wher he saw Shiro talking to Allura about what move they shall proceed next with Zarkon and his army at hand on one of the screens, dragging their hands across it as they make the plans.

Lance wonders if even Shiro would drop everything just to catch him.

Lance made a small smile to himself, and walked in unnoticed, not listening to the talk exchanges between Shiro and Allura.

“Trust fall!!” Lance smiled widely, confident that maybe he would be caught.

Instead, he had his trust back on the floor.

Allura yelped in surprise and confusion, and Shiro just groaned with frustration.

“Ahh, Lance!” He raised his voice, “Not now!!”

Lance felt his heart break just a little, but it was alright. It was only fun and games, anyways.

“I trusted you.” Lance pouted, chuckling again. His arms at his sides, his head tilted up to look at Shiro and Allura, who both towered over him like his parents would when he was about to get -dun dun dun- la chancla.

Lance’s chuckle turned more into a light hearted laugh. It was enough for Shiro to lower his gaze to a more calm expression, cracking a small smile as he helped Lance back up.

Allura raised an eyebrow, still confused. “Is this ‘trust fall’ an earth thing?”

“Kind of,” Shiro chucked, “Hey, Lance, maybe you should stop doing this to everyone. We’re not always gonna be prepared, you’re always catching us off guard.”

Lance felt a small frown forming on his mouth when looked down, staring the ground where he was just laying. He felt a little guilty annoying everyone.

That “trust fall” thing was only something that he would do with his siblings, who no matter what they were doing or how annoyed they were, they would drop everything just to catch the boy in their arms.

It was all just fun and games, right?

“Sorry, Shiro,” Lance chuckled sheepishly, “I was just trying to pass the time.”

Allura grinned, “Well, you’re in luck Lance. Shiro and I have just finished our plan for when we infiltrate the Galra. Get the others, too. Are you ready?”

Lance’s eyes went up, a small smile finding its way back on his face.

-

He decided to do it just one last time.

-Run.-

-Run.-

-Run.-

That’s all that came to his mind. That’s all he wanted to do. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

Lance was the one who drew the attention. He drew the attention away from Shiro and Pidge, so that they could get closer to what they needed.

Lance felt himself cornered, surrounded by the Galra.

He lifted his gun, ready to fire when they did.

And when they did, he just wasn’t quick enough to avoid all four guns aiming and firing him.

He remembers hearing the blast ricochet from all four.

He remembers their taunting words, how -useless- he was and how -irritating- he must be for his teammates to leave him all alone.

He remembers the aching pain from his chest to his leg, a burning sensation that his grandchildren could’ve felt.

He remembers seeing the Galra fall back, leading themselves to believe that they have killed one.

He remembers standing on his two, thinking of the first time he walked his first steps towards his older brother, now thinking of how these were him possibly taking his last few steps.

He remembers hearing echoes of voices and blasts coming from the end of the corridor of the Galra ship.

He remembers hearing Keith’s shouts stand out from the rest.

He remembers Keith’s laugh and his smile, which urges him forward.

Holding his sides, cracking his smile possibly for the last time, he takes bigger steps to get closer to Keith, who was crouching down behind a busted machine, a good hideaway from the Galra’s blasts.

As Lance got closer, he took smaller steps, croaking out his next words.

“Trust fall.”

Although, instead of falling back, he fell forward, gravity pulling him down, expecting to feel the cold ground of the Galra ship.

Instead he felt a pair of arms in front of him, and when he looked up, he saw a sight of someone, an expression he hopes to never see on his face again. The expression of pain and concern, eyes wide in panic. Brows furrowed worriedly, and mouth tightened as if trying to hold in the sobs. He saw the tears prickling his face.

Lance didn’t want to see that. He didn’t want to see Keith like that ever again.

“I trust you,” Lance chuckled, feeling Keith adjusting him in his arms, cradling him close to his own body, despite the fact that he was being drenched in Lance’s blood.

“S-Shut up, Lance, j-just-shut-,” Keith choked, trying to get a hold of himself. “You’re gonna be alright, you’re gonna-you have to-”

Lance lifted his hand and tangled it in Keith’s hair. He just wanted to see Keith smile one more time. He saw Keith shout something into his intercom of his helmet frantically.

Lance felt Keith tighten his grip on him when he felt himself drift away, as if he believes that the tighter he held on, the longer Lance will stay.

“I’m..not going a-anywhere Keith, but you..don’t n-need me,” Lance just laughed, “I’m just the s-seventh wheel.”

Lance was so close to Keith that he could hear the breath caught in Keith’s mouth.

“No, y-you’re not, you idiot,” Keith’s tears rolled down his cheeks, “Y-You weren’t supposed to go out like this. You -aren’t- supposed to–We were just getting-,” he sniffled, laughing like him crying was so stupid, “getting started.”

Lance laughed, and hugged himself closer to Keith, taking in his scent, even if his blood spilled over him.

Finally, he heard other voices, other hands trying to help him up. But all he did was held onto Keith tighter.

All Lance wanted to do was just lay there, knowing that his silly little trust fall wasn’t all stupid. He wanted to lay there, with Keith holding him close as if he was precious cargo. The longer Keith held on, the longer Lance will hold on.

Trust is a precious cargo that Lance likes to hold on. It’s funny, you know. The way it’s been made into a kind of game he held on as a kid? The way he trusts Keith with his own life. The kind of trust that turns a certain bond into something more than one person hoping the other will catch them.

It’s funny, the way he believes that falling is just like flying, except there’s a more permanent destination. Whether it’s the cold floor of a castle or a ship, or the warmth of someone who cares about him.

It all was just fun and games, right?

squint at where you’re from

oops sometimes you gotta

spoilers for 413, bellamy/clarke, 1600 words, gen. AO3!


Even though it’s not really the same as coming down in the first time, Bellamy still has this strange sense of deja vu as he looks at the door. The ship is smaller, he has fewer people with him, he feels both more and less sure of what he’ll find. They tried to hit the only spot of green they could see, but the controls are a mess, so he’s not sure they got to it. The whole fucking ship is a mess, built out of whatever scrap they could salvage. Even with six years to perfect it, the thing is still held together with spit and prayer, according to Raven.

But it got them to the ground. They’re back.

“Just open the fucking door!” says Raven, and Bellamy lets out a long breath and finally hits the release.

He knows what he’s hoping for: clean air, plants, blue sky. And he gets all of those.

He just also gets a girl, maybe ten or eleven, with brown hair in braids, pointing a gun at him. Which is honestly fairly encouraging; someone survived, and they have firearms. So she probably came out of the bunker.

He puts his hands up on reflex.

“Hey, uh–we come in peace,” he tries, and then says it again in Trig, for good measure. He doesn’t recognize her, but that doesn’t mean anything. She could be from another clan; there are plenty of them he doesn’t know. Or–his heart trips on the thought–she could be a nightblood. She could have survived because of that, and if she survived–

The girl pulls her gun back and looks at him critically. “Are you Bellamy Blake?”

He blinks a few times. “Um, yeah. I’m Bellamy Blake.”

“Really?”

She sounds skeptical, which doesn’t make any fucking sense. She’s the one who brought it up. There’s no reason for her not to believe him.

“Yeah, really. Did you come out of the bunker? Is my sister with you? Octavia?”

You’re Bellamy?” she says, like she didn’t hear him. She’s making a face like something smells odd. “I thought you’d be taller.”

Taller?” he asks.

Raven pokes her head out. “It’s been five minutes and you’re already being held at gunpoint? You sure have a way with people, Bellamy.”

“Look, we don’t want to hurt you,” he tells the girl. “Just–”

“I know,” she says. “You just want to see Clarke.”

Keep reading

Then it’s quiet again, but as always this luxury doesn’t last more than a few minutes, because they’ve taken to a highway and there’s a long stretch of road ahead of them, and Harry starts talking again, “So are we g'na ignore how you were drooling over me?”

Y/N scoffs, affronted by the accusation that was 100% corrected, “Was not drooling  over you, jesus, get your head out of your ass.” She grumps at him, “Not everyone on this planet gets wet at the sight of your biceps.”

She wishes it was ruffling him, but she can tell it isn’t. He merely grins sneakily and leans back into his seat, “Yeah, what ever you say, Pet.”

or

Y/N and Harry don’t really mesh well, until they do

Keep reading

our little family pt.6 | park jimin

Pairing: Father! Jimin + Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst + parent au

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: You were just a pre-school teacher, a simple dream that came true as you always adored children. But what you didn’t know, was how one child and her very special father would change you dream forever.

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6

AN: Ah…the final part. I just want to say thank you for all those who have read and stayed with me through this lovely journey of writing OLF and being super supportive of the story. I tried my absolute best to wrap it up in the nicest way possible (but just a tad disappointed with my writing :/ ) however again thank you so much and enjoy! 

You tied your messy hair up into a ponytail, attempting to get the small, distracting hairs out of your face as you started to take out things from the refrigerator to make Jieun and yourself some lunch.

Hearing small footsteps behind you and a voice call out your name, you turned around from the countertop to see Jieun standing in the middle of the kitchen, her hands rubbing her droopy eyes as she stared up at you, resembling that of a long, lost puppy.

A warm smile spread across your face as you exclaimed, “Hey, look at you, you’re up!” as you lifted the little girl into your arms and spun her around, eliciting small giggles from her mouth before setting her down on the kitchen countertop.

Your eyes glanced towards the time before looking back at Jieun, “Do you feel hungry? It’s almost lunch time.”

She nodded quickly, a big smile spreading across her face when she asked, “Can we eat cookies? I really liked your cookies last time!”

You giggled as you pinched her nose softly, “Uh-huh, you can’t eat cookies for lunch now, can you?! How about we make some macaroni and cheese and then we’ll bake cookies for snack time later? Does that sound like a good idea?”

Her eyes lit up at that as she grinned, “Mac and cheese?! That’s my favorite! Daddy makes it for me all the time.”

“Well then it’s up to you to pick who’s Mac and cheese you like better okay?” you teased, as she nodded happily before whispering to you, “I think you might win Ms. L/N. Daddy sometimes burns the cheese and it turns all black and gooey.”

You laughed at that before saying, “Well, I guess it’s time to teach him how to properly cook huh?”

“Or Ms.L/N could come live with us? Then you can cook delicious food for me and daddy!” Jieun exclaimed, an innocent smile on her face.

Keep reading

A Lesson in Love (A Different Perspective)

Summary: (College!AU) In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 4,431

A/N: The tag list for this story is CLOSED. 

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - You are the forever best for editing for me.

Originally posted by skylerlockerbie

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to a track meet before.”

“I’ve never had a reason to come to one,” you say, defending yourself against Wanda’s accusatory tone and disapproving gaze.

“That’s no excuse,” she responds with a click of her tongue. “Now hurry up, we need to secure a good spot.”

You follow her blindly, not knowing what qualifies as a ‘good spot’. Unlike Wanda who has spent years attending track meets with her brother, you’ve never been to one. Like you told her, you never had a reason to attend one. Not until today.

Not until T'Challa.

Keep reading

A thieving roommate and a "haunted" Xbox.

Warning:Long, but totally worth it!

During freshman year of college I roomed with my cousin and our friend Dan. The three of us happened to be quite the marijuana enthusiasts and enjoyed smoking…a lot. As great a luxury cannabis is, it wasn’t cheap, especially to three college kids. So naturally, when we wanted to smoke together we’d all chip in an equal sized nug so no one ended up getting short-changed and to obviously save a little cash here and there. As time went on, Dan began to run out of money due to his constant smoking. No money=no weed. So what went from rolling a spliffs everyday suddenly became smashing bowls and scraping resin off the shards of glass and mixing it with tobacco to get high. In our very small and cramped room, I had a mason jar filled with a baggie of my weed hidden in a spot that NO ONE (I thought) knew about. After class one day, I wanted to sit back and enjoy a smoke when I pulled my stash out of the hiding spot to find that the weed was missing. Instantly, I knew Dan did the dirty deed. My cousin wasn’t struggling too bad financially at the time so it couldn’t have been him. But before I pointed any fingers, I decided to wait it out and be 100% positive.

Keep reading

Lava

Based off this video because I cannot stop laughing


It had started out as a simple enough dare, Dean and Cas would each get a total of 3 tries per person to try and “kill” the other by telling the other that “the floor is lava.” They would then have five seconds before they had to find a way to get off the ground and scream that the floor was lava to any unsuspecting passerby if there were anyway. There was no prize, not really. Dean just really wanted to beat Cas at something, and Cas didn’t mind if he got bragging rights.

Cas had been first, during a walk in the park between their two college classes on campus. “The floor is lava,” he’d casually said. Dean had not understood until he did, and at which point he only had 3 seconds left and nothing that he could use to get off the ground. Nothing, except, for a trashcan just up the trail. He’d made it with one second to spare.

“The floor is lava!” Dean screamed triumphantly, balancing precariously on the poor trashcan below him. He had managed to get into a crouch before the inevitable happened––when Dean went to get down back onto the ground and rejoin Cas he slipped and wound up wedging his butt straight into the trashcan. Castiel wouldn’t let him forget it for a week.

The next turn had been Dean’s, choosing to wait until Cas and he were on a grocery run to enact his plan.

“Hey, Cas,” he called the other’s attention while they were in the toilet paper aisle. 

“Hm?”

“The floor is lava.” 

Keep reading

he held me, thinks sherlock, looking at john across the pillows in some kind of wonderment. john’s fringe is growing long again. his eyelashes lay blue-violet shadows on his cheeks. he’s been asleep now for the better part of half an hour. is that the word for it? that’s how it felt, i think. like being. protected, even though there’s no danger here. like he was gathering me up with all my pieces, keeping me together. 

does he know that’s what he did? held me, i mean. that way. 

john snuffles in his sleep, rubbing his cheek along the pillowcase almost in response. he had been fiercely respectful of sherlock’s privacy since moving back in, as though castigating himself at every near-cross of a boundary, and it had made his movements around the flat stilted and unsure, like every time he went to put a foot down, he had to first draw it back and double-check that he was allowed. you’re allowed, sherlock had told him, just that morning. whatever you’re worried about doing or not doing - you’re allowed. 

maybe, john had responded, quite easily, as if he’d been expecting sherlock to do it, but that still doesn’t mean i should. 

but then, the realisation, passing between them like an electrical current, the closed circuit of knowing flowing between them as visibly as lightning, had stopped them both where they stood. and sherlock had said, you know i want you to, then. 

yes, john had said, very, very quietly, i think so. you know why i’m hesitating, too.

sherlock had looked at him for a long minute, not deducing, not deciding. just seeing. yes. you’re afraid.

john had laughed. laughed, actually. aren’t you? 

petrified, which was true, but i think you should do it anyway, which was less true, in fact, but still worth saying. sherlock hoped he’d always say the things worth saying. he doubted he would, or that he even could, but it was a good thing to hope for, he thought. 

and so john had stepped forward. breathed. slipped one hand around the back of sherlock’s elbow, steadying him. had, so so slowly, so so softly, leaned in and brushed his mouth across sherlock’s. not a kiss - not really. that had come after. it was john, going to put a foot down and drawing back, double-checking that he was allowed. you’re allowed, sherlock had repeated, breathing against his cheek. i - i want you to. 

i - i want you to, too, john had said, more like a gasp than anything, like the strength of that admission had to be wrenched forward from somewhere he’d been keeping secret, i want you to be allowed, too. 

which had lead them here, to john’s sleepy heartbeat wearing into sherlock’s sheets and john’s hand on the coverlet, fingers curled in easy relaxation, those same fingers that had clutched and smoothed and held, and held, and held, and even though the fingers were there, now, on the coverlet instead of on sherlock’s hips and shoulders and neck and jaw and ribs and thighs and hands, there was the distinct sense of not having been let go. 

sherlock, john whispers, not opening his eyes. his fingers turn, reach, find, clasp. sherlock thinks his heart is going to burst right out of his wrist where it beats against john’s palm. you all right? 

yes, sherlock whispers back. did you know you held me?

john’s smile, lazy in the dark. sherlock wants to trace it with a fingertip. he thinks, probably, he’d be allowed to do that, if he tried, but it can wait until morning. was that okay? 

he shrugs. the covers shift. john’s thumb swipes back and forth across the smooth skin of his arm. i think so. i just. didn’t know if you knew. that that’s what that was, i think. 

it was, john confirms. the smile doesn’t fade. he tugs on sherlock’s wrist, gently, encouragingly. come here, and i’ll do it again, if you like.

sherlock inches forward, and john raises an arm to welcome him in until his head settles on john’s chest, with one arm draped over his back. he can hear the steady-slow thump of john’s heart. he can feel the smooth-shallow rise of john’s belly under his hand. i like holding you, sherlock, he says, rumbling and gruff through sleep and the saying of something that is difficult and daring to say, i’d like to keep doing it, if that’s okay. 

okay, sherlock says, and it is.

anonymous asked:

I hate you, now fuck me

How Until My Feet Bleed by @kazliin Should Have Ended

Part of him still couldn’t believe that Yuuri was finally here with him, that this was real and not just another dream….

Digging one of his hands into the skin of Viktor’s back… slowly taking him apart, Yuuri looked at him, face flushed and staring at Viktor with an intensity that made it impossible to look away.

“I hate you.” Yuuri breathed and his eyes held none of the warmth or joy that Viktor had been feeling just seconds before. “Now fuck me.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut and Viktor felt his fingers still in shock, the words so unexpected and unexpectedly painful that every muscle in his body froze and locked in place….

“What?!”

Victor snapped back, the rush hitting him like he was slamming back down on the ice again. To hear those words spoken outloud was a slap to the face and a plunge off a cliff, straight down the sheer rock face of confusion. Because the last time he was in a hotel room with Yuuri, he had been hearing softly muttered confessions imitating affection, and the sharp twist of reality was too much to ignore.

The chill in Yuuri’s eyes melted at Victor’s outburst, honey brown widening in betrayal of his shock. Whatever haze of lust and alcohol fleeted from them in stark reaction, and Yuuri seemed as frozen as Victor, except for his fingers trembling, curled into the bedsheets.

One breath take in an attempt to calm the mix of emotions threatening to spill forth, and Victor permitted it all burst forward despite himself. “Why are you even here then?”

Just like that, Victor saw all the confidence drain from Yuuri’s face, leaving him pale and then scrambling for shoved aside bedding to cover himself. Victor didn’t bother.

“Yuuri, I don’t-…” Years of questions leapt through every part of his mind, brawling to be the first to fall from his tongue just so he could finally hope to grasp at a single note of understanding. The most and least simple being, “why?”

If emotions and confusion, insistent need to understand were at battle inside himself, it looked like a war was raging through Yuuri. His gaze locked with Victor’s and yet he still looked torn between wanting to cling to it and to flee, clutching at the bedsheets which he brought up to cover himself, suddenly modest. “Why what?”

The tremor in his voice was all that Victor needed. “Why do you… I don’t get you, Yuuri! What the hell did I do to merit you dancing with me one moment and telling me you hate me as you try to sleep with me the next?”

A heartbeat passed. Then two.

Yuuri opened his mouth, no words coming forth, and then shut it. His eyebrows arched high into bangs messed from the heated lead up, and then his expression fell. And hardened. His red, swollen lips pursed into a thin line, and those gorgeous eyes narrowed. It almost startled Victor, to recognize in that moment the contempt he had often seen directed at him when on the podium.

“This! Exactly this!” Yuuri snapped, dropping the bedsheet as he leaned forward, closing the distance Victor placed between them. “The fact that you don’t even care enough to remember!”

“Remember what?!” Every memory of his interaction with Yuuri flashed by, but none of them could account for hate, at least not in Victor’s mind. “What I said to you in the bathroom that one time? That was–”

“No! Before that! You were my idol, Victor, and you broke my heart!”

Before that… Desperately, Victor searched every shred of memory, every hint of an interaction with Yuuri that he had treasured no matter how tense or distant, but there was nothing. “What, Yuuri, I would never–”

“You did!” Yuuri’s words cut in and Victor let him, watching the flush of arousal on Yuuri’s skin turn to one of anger and irritation instead. “I worshipped you and you insulted me. You belittled me. I was just a kid…” Yuuri inhaled a shaky breath and the dam broke. “I went to see you, when you skated your last Junior season. I got tickets as a birthday present, because I wanted nothing more than to see you skate. And after you won, I… I waited outside for you, to get your autograph. And I met you.”

It wasn’t ice in Yuuri’s eyes anymore. It wasn’t fire. It was what Victor had felt so close to, so many times himself, could recognize instantly. Defeat.

“You… you broke my heart, Victor, when I met you…”

Broken did not seem to be enough. Victor shattered, cascading into shards that littered the cold floor beside them. “I… I don’t remember.”

“Of course you don’t. I was just one fan. And you have so many. Why should you?”

He should have. Why didn’t he. “But Yuuri, it’s you. How could I not remember you?” Why would he though. Yuuri was right. He would have just been another face in the crowd. Yet Victor felt like he should. Of all the faces, of people, he should have remembered Yuuri. What had he even said.

“You didn’t. You… I just-… how many other hearts did you break, Victor? How many other dreams did you step on? Or did you forget all of those too?”

The shards fragmented. Stepped on and crushed by each syllable being confessed. He had met Yuuri, broken his heart, and couldn’t even recall how. Couldn’t even begin to guess. “Yuuri, I’m sorry-”

“Whatever,” Yuuri sighed, then shoved off the bed, but Victor reached over and grabbed his hand before Yuuri could grab his clothes off the floor, grateful for when Yuuri stopped and did not jerk away.

“Yuuri, don’t please…” He needed to understand. He would not be content to leave it at that. “You… at the Olympics, you got drunk… you told me that you liked me. Or that you liked my hair, and my eyes. So I know you can’t hate me. Not completely. And Yuuri, I don’t hate you. Please, I just need to understand, so that if I need to spend the rest of my life apologizing to you, I can mean it. So please tell me. Help me remember. Or at least, help me understand.”

Conflict writ itself in bold across Yuuri’s face, but the tension in his shoulders softened and the pull of his wrist in Victor’s hand ebbed away. The digital clock display on the hotel bedstand switched minutes, and Yuuri pulled at his lower lip with his teeth, then nodded. “Okay but… let me put something on first?”

There was a blush tinting Yuuri’s cheeks, softening him into a vision Victor had only seen in Phichit’s photos before, of a delicate Yuuri that Victor had never been permitted to see in the flesh before now. His chest felt too small for his heart as it swelled with the affection Victor had already been so bad at containing.

Without the briefest moment of hesitation, Victor rushed to the corner of the room, grabbing one of his shirts from closet since he had now regrettably torn Yuuri’s. He draped it across Yuuri’s shoulders with a gentleness that Yuuri did not seem to believe.

“I think we probably have a lot to talk about.” Victor tried to smile and felt it bloom into a real one when Yuuri scoffed, a thread of amusement and understatement so clearly wrapped around it.

“Yeah… I think… we really do.”


(The moral of the story: communication can happen, if you behave like a good person and put your dick away for just a hot second)

Why Do You Hate Me?

Bucky x Reader Smut Fic

Warnings: pure smutty teasing


“What’s up, Steve?” You glanced around the interrogation room in the Tower. “Why’d you want to meet up so early?”

“Just wanted to go over our tactic for this guy coming in.” Steve eyed you carefully. “Make sure we’re on the same page.”

“Punch him if he doesn’t talk.” You sat down in what was to be his chair. “Tighten the restraints if he refuses.” Steve nodded, hands behind his back. “Then do whatever we need to get the information out of him.”

“That’s correct.” Steve pulled a switch out of his pocket and flipped it on. “I’m sorry to have to do this.”

Metal restraints folded over your wrists and ankles and held you in place. Your eyes shifted to Steve as you squirmed in the uncomfortable chair. Steve sat the switch on the table and gave you his best apologetic smile. 

“You can’t keep running out of the room when Bucky enters, (Y/N).” Steve bit his lip and smiled wearily. “And when you two are in a room together, you turn your inner air conditioner down and become ice cold.”

“Steve…” You growled and yanked on the restraints. “Let me go.”

“Not until you two talk.” Steve turned on his heels and swung the door open.

Bucky walked, a smirk plastered on his face, and you froze. Your face went dark and your stare hardened; butterflies fluttered in your stomach. Steve left you alone with Bucky. You hated him.

He fiddled with the switch in silence while leaning up against the table. He eyed you carefully, taking in every inch of your body. His smirk grew as he noticed your hardened nipples through your tank top; you were braless. He kept his mouth shut.

“Let me go, Barnes.” You grumbled the words. “Now.”

“No.” He spoke calmly. “I want to know why you hate me.”

“There are a lot of reasons why I hate you.” Your stare didn’t waver. “We would be here all day if I listed them all.”

“Then just summarize.” He continued smiling. “The more we bicker, doll, the longer you’re stuck alone in a room with me.”

“You’re a womanizing, arrogant, old ass, murdering, son of a bitch who walks around like he owns the place.” You spat the words at him. “You get to do whatever the fuck you want because you’re Steve’s best friend and Steve’s word is the highest. You don’t have to fill out paperwork, go on missions you don’t want to, hell, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“So, what I’m hearing is…” Bucky sat the switch down and walked towards you. He rested his hands onto of the metal restraints and leaned down to eye level. “You’re jealous?”

“I’m not jealous.” Your heart rate increased at the close proximity. “I’m angry.”

“See…” His eyes searched yours tentatively. “I don’t think you’re angry, doll. I think you’re confused.”

“About what?” You cocked an eyebrow at him and pouted your lips. “What could I possibly be confused about?”

“I think…” He leaned forward and brought his lips to your ear, just close enough to feel the warmth of his breath and nothing else. “That you might just like me.”

“What the fuck would make you think that?” You squirmed in your seat instinctively. 

“Two nights ago…” He spoke slowly, drawing out each word with precision. “I took a nice midnight stroll around the halls…” You were sure he could hear the rapid pace of your heart in your chest. “And I came to your room.” You gulped, you knew damn well what he was leading up to. “Behind your door, I could hear the almost inaudible sounds of you moaning, whimpering, and begging, something I never thought I’d hear from you.” His lips brushed your ear. “At first, I thought you had a guy over and I started to walk away. I got about two steps passed your door when I heard my name sneak out of those beautiful lips of yours.” You bit your lip and closed your eyes. “You were moaning, whimpering, begging, and chanting my name while you were touching yourself.” He pulled away and stood up straight. “That’s why I think you might just like me.”

You were at a loss for words. Your eyes dropped to the ground and you remained silent. You thought over possible snarky responses, but your mind was blank. He was right, you liked him.

“And what if I did just happen to like you?” You refused to look up from the floor.

“I’d have to punish you for treating me so poorly because you couldn’t admit your feelings.” His words came out cold and you raised your eyes. The smirk was still there. “It’d only be fair, you know, given a number of times you brushed me off and treated me like shit.”

“And what kind of punishment would it be?” You couldn’t stop your words. “If I were to admit, you know, that I might just like you?”

Bucky watched you carefully, his blue eyes piercing your own. He stepped quietly behind you, hands resting in his pockets. He dropped his head and whispered in your ear, “May I touch you?” You nodded.

His hands rested firmly on your shoulders before he began massaging them. You sighed deeply at the contact and dropped your head back, hitting his stomach. Your eyes closed, not wanting to know if he could see the pleasure growing on your face just from a massage. A deep chuckle vibrated his body and his hands lowered to your clavicles. 

“Well, a naughty girl gets a naughty punishment.” His hands dipped lower, hovering over your breasts. “Maybe I’d trap you before a mission, when I know you’ll be stuck with the team.” His fingers brushed your hardened nipples through the fabric of your shirt. “Pin you up against the wall…” He lifted the front of your shirt behind your head, exposing your breasts. “Slip my hand down those tight pants of yours…” His thumbs circled your nipples. “Tease that needing cunt of yours with a few flicks and circles to your clit…”

“Bucky…” You bit your lip to silence yourself.

“What? You like it when I talk about punishing you?” He lowered himself down and buried his face in your neck, drawing hickeys to the surface of your skin. “When I talk about getting you all wet and needy with my fingers?” His hands slithered down to your shorts and unbuttoned them. “Would you like that? Not being able to touch yourself for weeks on end?” His flesh hand traced the waistband of your panties. “Or would you touch yourself? Sneak off and curl two of your delicate fingers inside of yourself? Would you do that with the team members there? Where you could easily get caught fucking yourself?” His hand slipped underneath your panties and grazed your clit. “Could you be quiet enough? Your moaning, the sounds of your fingers working your aching cunt, the scream you want to let loose when you cum…” 

“F-Fuck…” Your eyes opened and you saw Bucky looked at you; he was waiting. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” He spoke quietly. “To dip my fingers inside of you and abuse that throbbing g-spot of yours until you’re begging me to cum?”

“Yes.” You breathed out the word and licked your lips. “Please.” You sounded desperate and you hated it, but, fuck, you wanted him, you wanted him to touch you, to feel just how wet you were, to fuck you. You craved him.

“Then I guess you’re going to have to wait until after you get back from your next mission.” Bucky removed his hand and backed away, flipping the switch to your chair before leaving. 

You sat in a complete mess in the chair; your panties soaked, breasts exposed, hickey’s blatantly visible on your neck. You lowered your shirt and buttoned your shorts, disbelief taking over. No, that couldn’t have just happened. I just imagined the entire thing. I’m just laying in bed asleep right now and I’m going to wake up any second. Yeah, this is just a wet dream. I don’t even have any missions coming up, this has to be a dream. Come on, (Y/N), wake up. 

Sam popped his head in and eyed you carefully. “You ready?”

“For what?” You collected yourself and stood from your chair, praying he couldn’t see how much of a mess you were.

“Barnes cancelled and said you’d take his spot on today’s mission. We’ll only be gone for a few days, a week at the latest.” 

“What?” You furrowed your brows. 

“C’mon, we’re running late as it is.” Sam waved you on.

You stepped out of the room and followed Sam down the hallway. You passed Bucky and Steve standing together. Bucky pulled out his phone and caught your eye; he winked before turning his attention back to his friend. Your phone vibrated.

“I may not have pinned you up against the wall, but leaving you begging works just as well.”


A/N: Lots of people voted for Bucky in my most recent “Pick a Pairing” post and so here you guys go!

Keep reading

Angel in the Darkness (M) pt.4

Originally posted by aestheticvbts

Summary: After a patient urgently pleads you to go and help a friend of his, you naively agree to it. Little did you know, that you would get more than what you agreed to, when he leads you to a brothel, to help a dangerous prostitute named Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (ft. Jin, but not romantically)

Genre: Smut (M), angst, mafia!au, prostitution!au

A/N:This is a dark and filthy story! Graphic descriptions of sex (masturbating, etc), heavy dom/sub undertones, drug use, vulgar language use……(alot of smut comes in later) This is a mature read! You have been warned!

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



“You’re a mistake! You should have never even been born!” the group of nine-year old’s like yourself, taunted you.

You were mindlessly walking outside during recess, until a group of kids from your class cornered you. They formed a circle around you, deciding to remind you of what kind of blasphemy you were.

“Just leave me alone!” you screeched back at them, just wanting to distance yourself. You tried to leave, but there was no escape, as they would just push you back into the middle of the circle.

“Where are you going you little bitch?” a boy who was a bit taller than you mocks.

When you glare at him to try to push past, he shoves you roughly back, making you fall on the cold cement. You cringe when you skid against the ground, layers of skin from your elbows and hands being ripped off.

Each of them laugh at you, as you just sit still on the ground, not daring to look up at them. Why did this always have to happen to you?

Keep reading

Stranded (Part 1)

where Y/N is sorry and Harry is angry.

Harry turned around as soon as he heard the bathroom door open. He could feel his eyes widening at the sight of you. With your blue floor length dress and hair up in a loose bun, you looked unquestionably breathtaking. You were heading for the celebration dinner of Harry’s movie, but Harry felt like he would be nothing there compared to the goddess standing in front of him. He couldn’t help it, he walked towards you with long strides, smashing his lips with yours and whispering,

“Baby, you look absolutely gorgeous.”

Your cheeks glowed with color as heat rushed up your neck. You smiled in gratitude before remarking,

“I think I should be the one saying that.”

Harry jokingly flipped his hair before replying,

“Yeah, I know, I’m very pretty.”

You two let out a laugh before your lips collided once more.

“How ‘bout we ditch the dinner an’ put on some of our own entertainment t’night?” he smirked, proud of his word play.

“Wish we could darling, but everyone’s gonna be there for you, yeah? Can’t leave them hanging.” You replied.

He hummed in response, well aware that he couldn’t ditch the party being thrown for him. You two headed out for the car parked outside. Your hands were tightly intertwined with Harry’s, and the two of you couldn’t have been more content at the moment.

Once you arrived at the destined place, the screams of the crowd and paparazzi increased in volume. The two of you were scurried out of the car by Harry’s event organizer. Harry wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you headed towards the fancy restaurant.

Strutting towards the door, you two looked, and felt, like the ideal couple. However, your little bubble of happiness was soon burst apart as Harry started getting questioned by an interviewer. He seemed nice, and the pair of you didn’t mind.

Yet, soon the questions started getting directed towards you as well. Caught up in the blissful heaven of the situation, you barely noticed as you accidentally spilled out information about Harry working on his solo album.

Harry had previously decided to keep his solo music career a secret for the time being. Lots of conspiracies came along with the rumors, none of which Harry wanted to face. He had instructed you not to inform anyone about it either, and he knew that he could definitely trust you. You had gone to extremes to keep it a secret, there had been several times when it was so close to being revealed but you did one thing or other to safeguard your beloved boyfriend’s clandestine.

But this once, caught up in the happiness of the situation, and the feeling of being in Harry’s arms, you hadn’t even noticed the words tumbling out of your mouth. As soon as the words escaped you, the two of you immediately halted to a stop. Harry’s arm tightened around your waist warningly, to the point where it almost hurt. The interviewer was as shocked as could be, and continued on trying to dig out more details from either of you.

You tried to make it better, you really did, but the damage had been done.

Harry hurriedly excused you two from the press and continued walking towards the main hall. You knew he was mad, the tense way his shoulders were situated, was an obvious sign of that.

Once reality settled in, you felt like you could cry. You had revealed his secret, broken his trust. He had confided in you and trusted you to not tell a soul about something that he didn’t yet want to share.

However, before you could let out a word, Harry was whisked away by his manager, and you had been left alone to fend for yourself. Usually, Harry would be the one to hold your hand tightly and pull you along with him, but you knew that after this, the last thing he wanted was to be anywhere near you.

You were soon given company by Gigi, Eleanor and Cheryl. All of the boys were there to support Harry, and you felt horrible that you had messed up the night for him. You felt your heart ache when you saw that Harry had opted to take the seat farthest away from you at the dinner table. The night passed on with you barely touching your food and trying your best to be as social as you could in the given circumstances.

Harry was nowhere to be seen, probably he had gone somewhere with his friends, and Eleanor and Cheryl had went off to mingle with their own boyfriends, while Gigi had stayed with you. She claimed that she wanted your advice on some show that she was preparing for, but you knew that she felt bad for you. She knew what had happened, and didn’t want for you to be alone.

While you were grateful for the company that she provided, you hadn’t failed to notice Harry’s absence throughout the night. You knew that he was upset with you, but you didn’t think that he would actually ignore you the whole night through. As it was nearing midnight and Gigi was going on about her upcoming Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, a text message from Harry interrupted the both of you. Hope sprang through you as you looked down at your phone, but it was quick to die down as soon as you read the cold words that had been sent to you.

“We’re leaving.”

As you looked up, you saw Harry’s manager waving to you to come to the front door. You informed Gigi, who stood up with you.

“We’ll be leaving soon too. Just need to say goodbye to some people before we’re on our way.”

“Okay, thank you so much for today. I’ll see you soon.”

“Anytime, babe. I’m sure Harry will cool off soon. Just give him some time and space, yeah? Call me if you need anything.” She said, rubbing your arm comfortingly.

“Yeah, thank you, Gigi. I love you.”

The both of you hugged goodbye before you hurried off to where Harry’s manager was standing. She informed you that Harry was already in the car. Your heart sank a little, realizing that he was still mad. You hadn’t expected him to just forget about the whole thing, but you were hoping that his mood would be uplifted after spending some time with his friends.

Nonetheless, you knew that you had made a mistake and that you would have to pay the consequences now.

As you walked outside, you noticed the drizzle going on. It wasn’t much, but the dark clouds in the night sky made it obvious that it wasn’t long before it would start raining heavily. You opened the car door, and skid into the passenger seat. Harry already had the car started, and before you had time to buckle up your seat belt, he scurried off without a word. The tires of the car produced a sharp screech due to the force of the sudden turn.

You didn’t say anything, only adjusting yourself in your seat.

Harry continued driving towards the house that the both of you shared. But you couldn’t help but notice the death grip he had on the steering wheel. After a while, the awkward tension became too much and you felt like you were going to choke. You decided to face the consequences of your mistake as soon as possible, since procrastinating was clearly going to get you nowhere.

“Harry, I really am sorry about what happened-” You started, before he cut you off.

“Don’t Y/N, just don’t.”

He sounded so angry, unlike you had ever heard before. You had heard from a lot of people that Harry was the worst when angry. Though you had yet to encounter a seriously mad Harry, since he always made sure to control his temper around you.

It had started to rain harder outside, with heavy raindrops falling down on the wind screen. His knuckles had begun to turn whiter due to his extremely tight grip on the steering wheel. His face was set in a mad frown that was deadly to even look at.

“Harry, I promise that this wasn’t my intension. I was only answering their question and it just slipped out. I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry won’t cut it. I trusted you with my secret and you totally ruined it. I’m never telling you anything again. Now shut your mouth before I decide to kick you out of the car right now.”

This was so unlike him, the Harry that you knew would never, ever speak to you like how he just did.

Harry was known to be one of the most respectful people out there, and he had proved himself to you as a gentleman several times. Always treating you with intense care, feeding you chocolates during your period, opening the doors for you anywhere you went; he did everything to make sure that you were happy with him.

“Harry, please try to under-” Your sentence was left unfinished as the car halted to a stop.

“Get out.” He commanded.

“What?” Your voice was timid, compared to his. You had absolutely no idea about what Harry could do in his rage of anger, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to find out.

“Get out of the fucking car, Y/N. Or so help me I’ll do it myself.”

“Harry, it’s almost midnight and it’s raining so hard outside. Please don’t do this. I said I’m sorry.” You practically begged.

He wasn’t having any of it, though. In the blink of an eye, he unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. He threw open your side of the door and grabbed your wrists. You tried to resist his grip, and he almost threw you to the ground. Your ankle twisted due to the heels you were wearing, and a painful yelp came out of your mouth. You were lying there in pain, with a ruined dress, spoiled make-up and sore wrists.

You tried to refrain him one last time.

“Harry, please stop.”

He shrugged off your hold on his wrist and went over to the driver’s side. He proceeded to sit in and drive away, leaving you a crying and broken mess in the middle of the road with darkness surrounding you and rain water pouring down on you heavily.

To some outsider, it may have looked like a scene freshly out of some movie. To you though, it was like your world had been torn apart. Yes, you had made a mistake, a horrible one at that. Harry had trusted you with one of his most sacred secrets and as his significant other, it was your duty to protect it at all costs. However, you had gotten caught up in the blissful moment and gone ahead and done the exact opposite.

In spite of that, you didn’t think that you deserved to be thrown out so harshly; in the middle of the night with strangers lurking around and rain falling hard on you.

Yes, you had broken his trust and knew that it wasn’t going to be easy to gain it back, but he had done the exact same thing, maybe worse. Your boyfriend, the very guy who was supposed to keep you safe and protect you from all the harm in the world, was himself the guy who had thrown you out in the streets, with absolutely no concern of what could happen to you.

And as you sat broken in the right middle of the street, with black tears staining your face and wet hair matted to your forehead, dress ripped and ankle twisted, you couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever be alright between you two again.

My darling @blacktofade‘s birthday was, uh, two months ago, so here I am, ten years late with her birthday present. ILU BB!! If this lil au seems like it should be a full-length fic, that’s because it desperately tried to be, and I had to keep chopping at it to keep it under control, like some kind of rouge hedge on meth. (Now on AO3!)

In the hours after the fight, Stiles drives and drives and drives. At first it’s late, and then it’s so late that it’s early, but he keeps on driving, fueled by anger, mostly in silence, though somewhere around the middle of Pennsylvania he thaws enough to put on some music. He stops at a rest stop just past the Ohio border to get a breakfast sandwich, and as he sits at a dirty table and eats, he thinks: shit.

Doubt begins creeping into his thoughts; maybe he’d been too hasty. Maybe he should have given Jay a chance to explain - but no, no, fuck that. He’d always made it really fucking clear that if their relationship ever got to the point where cheating seemed like a good option, he’d rather just be broken up with and yet look what fucking happened. Stiles scoffs scornfully, chucking the wrapper to his sandwich in a nearby trash can. Two and a half years down the drain.

Refreshed by a new wave of anger, Stiles heads back to his car and gets back on the highway. He manages to wrangle his phone from his pocket and, ignoring the multiple text and missed call notifications, he calls his dad, who picks up with a sigh.

“You know what time it is?” his dad asks, and Stiles looks at his dash guiltily. He’s been so worked up that he forgot about the time difference - or the fact that even on the east coast, it’s early, the sun barely above the horizon.

“Sorry,” Stiles says with a wince. “I’ll call back later.”

“It’s fine,” Dad says with another sigh. “I just got home from an overnight shift. Everything all right? You’re not usually up before ten.”

Stiles opens his mouth and then closes his mouth, startled by the raw ache in his eyes.

“Stiles?” his dad presses, somehow gentle and sharp at the same time; Stiles is worrying him.

“I’m - ” Stiles clears his throat, tapping his fingers against the wheel. “Um. How would you feel about me moving home for a while?”

Keep reading