and took care of me when i was too drunk to function

anonymous asked:

How about a semi angsty fight with the rfa+V but they make up because HAPPY ENDINGS ARE NICE

I’m a slut for angst don’t give me this power 

Yoosung: 

✮ you had accidentally knocked the power cord to his computer while you were cleaning and he was playing LOLOL 
✮ he screamed 
✮ he was ranting and raving about how he was in the middle of an important raid and he was so close to levelling up 
✮ and you’re kinda standing there with a laundry basket and a pile of clothes almost over your head 
✮ and you don’t know what to do 
✮ you kind of want to cry 
✮ you kind of want to throw the laundry at his head 
✮ until 
✮ “rika never did things like this!!”
✮ oh 
✮ of course
✮ it somehow always got back to this point. comparing you with rika 
✮ sometimes he didn’t mean it or even realise he’d done it. but this was different 
✮ you remain eerily calm, putting the laundry down before turning to glare at yoosung 
✮ a wave of realisation hits him and he’s just full of guilt 
✮ you very calmly tell him you’re going to spend the night with jaehee, and ask him not to contact you 
✮ he begins crying and pleading with you to stop and stay 
✮ he’s so sorry and he’s just hating himself while you pack an overnight bag
✮ he’s practically on his knees and following you, begging you to stay 
✮ you kind of pause when you see the raw sorrow in his face 
✮ you sigh and stop for a moment 
✮ you’re hurt but you know that you have to talk it out with yoosung for it to get better 
✮ you both talk for a few hours, and he completely understands your viewpoint and he apologises 18923475829 times 
✮ he stays off of LOLOL for a few weeks, and even after that he tries not to get too obsessed– because that’s how the whole problem started 
✮ he just doesn’t want to lose you 

Jaehee: 

✎ you just wanted her to stop working so much 
✎ she was working overtime at the cafe 
✎ so much that she practically lived there 
✎ she was there after-hours and before-hours 
✎ sometimes she slept there and wouldn’t come home 
✎ so you book a holiday for her in secret, making plans behind her back for the cafe so it can function without her
✎ you tell all the employees and the deliverers who are close with the shop 
✎ but when you sit jaehee down and announce your plan 
✎ she gets so cold 
✎ she wants none of it 
✎ she’s not overworking herself dammit 
✎ she’s just doing what needs to be done 
✎ you try telling her that she doesn’t need to coddle the cafe, that you and the other emplyees were fully capable of running it 
✎ but she’s so worked up 
✎ and she says that you can’t 
✎ you’re clearly offended and you’re upset that your hard work planning this holiday for her is being pushed aside 
✎ somehow, you get her to take the holiday and see how it pans out 
✎ she’s calling you constantly 
✎ eventually you start ignoring her calls and texts 
✎ she gets so freaked out that the cafe is literally crumbling with you in charge so she rushes home 
✎ and you’re so mad when she rushes into the cafe, only to stop when she sees everything is going as usual 
✎ “b-but you weren’t answering my calls! I thought something happened!” 
✎ “jaehee i was ignoring you because you have no trust in me and I was busy making sure you could enjoy your holiday!” you were screaming 
✎ she felt so bad 
✎ she took her vacation and came back a lot better 
✎ you two made up, and she explained that her problem came from being jumin’s assistant for so long (if she didn’t do her job everything fucked up bc jumin is horrible at his job lmao) 
✎ she was a lot more calm after that and took breaks when she needed to (even took some time off on every second weekend- when you took care of the cafe) 

Zen: 

✿ he was working 
✿ of course 
✿ his job was the root of most of your arguments as a couple 
✿ but this time he had gone out for drinks with the cast 
✿ while you were standing outside of a restaurant waiting for him- you were going to have a date since filming was wrapping up that day (which is why the cast was having drinks in the first place) 
✿ you had faith in him, and stayed there until the restaurant closed 
✿ which was very, very late in the evening, seeing as it was part bar 
✿ as you were walking home, upset 
✿ zen came stumbling out of the bar with his castmates 
✿ he doesn’t notice you at first 
✿ until one of his acting buddies points at you, not recognising you, and laughs about how you’re soaked in rain and look like you’ve had that worst day of your life 
✿ you hear him 
✿ zen chuckles slightly before looking closer and realising who it is 
✿ swears up a storm as he pushes away everyone- muttering out something like ‘ssss my girlfirendddd’ 
✿ he tries to grab you because you’re storming away 
✿ he’s trying to coo and ask you why you were out so late because he’s drunk and doesn’t remember 
✿ you slap his hands away before screaming at him 
✿ “I was waiting for you! Our date for celebrating the end of filming?! Guess you had other plans, huh?!” 
✿ he’s so shocked like 
✿ it looks like he’s been smacked in the face 
✿ he follows you all the way home, apologising profusely 
✿ you make him sleep on the couch and lock yourself in the bedroom 
✿ when he wakes up the next morning he remembers, even through his wicked hangover 
✿ he cooks an amazing breakfast and waits for you to come out 
✿ when you do he hands you flowers with a card about how sorry he is
✿ he swears that he’ll make it up to you- and never let it happen ever again 

Jumin: 

₩ he was planning on properly introducing you to his father 
₩ but he was getting so controlling 
₩ he literally dressed you and did your hair and practically gave you a lecture on how to act and what to say 
₩ you’re kind of pissed at him but try to understand that he’s just stressed about how his father will react 
₩ his father loves you, and you loosen up- begin to be yourself 
₩ his father leaves after blessing your relationship together 
₩ but jumin is fuming 
₩ ‘what were you doing?! I told you not to say this or that’ blah blah 
₩ you’re just so shocked 
₩ “jumin that’s not who I am!” 
₩ “that’s who you should be!” 
₩ silence. 
₩ jumin has never been afraid of anything 
₩ but he’s afraid of this silence and the tears that are slipping down your cheeks 
₩ he’s afraid of what he said. he’s afraid of himself 
₩ he stumbles over his words as he tries to apologise, saying that isn’t what he meant 
₩ you can’t hear him though, all you can hear is his previous words echoing through your head 
₩ you tell him you’re sleeping in the guest room that night- the only thing you said before locking him out 
₩ when you get up the next morning 
₩ you open the door and see jumin sitting on the ground agains the wall next to your door, elizabeth pulled to his chest 
₩ his eyes were puffy and his cheeks and nose red 
₩ he had a note next to him that he hadn’t finished 
₩ it read ‘I’m sorry’ over and over, tear stains smudging some of the letters 
₩ you sigh, and kneel down to wake him up 
₩ he explains that he thought his father wouldn’t accept you unless you were like the other women and he didn’t want his father to come between your relationship anymore than he already had with the Sarah bullshit 
₩ and you make up but he spends so long reassuring you that he loves you so much, just the way you are 

Seven/Saeyoung: 

✞ he was doing it again
✞ he was trying to push you away 
✞ someone had approached you while you were on the street, asking about a ‘707′ 
✞ when you told saeyoung he got so scared and reverted back to his old ways 
✞ trying to push you away so that you ‘wouldn’t get hurt’ 
✞ when you try to kiss his cheek he physically pushes you away (after acting hostile all day) 
✞ and you trip over his wires and fall- hitting your head on the ground 
✞ he’s shocked, you’re shocked 
✞ he reaches forward to try and help you but freezes when you flinch away 
✞ he feels like less than shit 
✞ he feels like death himself. the grim reaper- that’s him. 
✞ he watches helplessly as you stumble to your feet and rush off to the bedroom, locking yourself inside (even though Saeyoung had control over the locks) 
✞ he spends about an hour just leaning over his desk with his head in his hands, thinking over how terrible he had been 
✞ how you deserve so much better 
✞ he was unstable. he was dangerous. 
✞ you were the light. you were everything 
✞ after a while he unlocks the door and sends your robot-cat in with flowers and a note in his mouth 
✞ it’s a handwritten letter from saeyoung, telling you he was just scared 
✞ that he was so sorry. that he loved you more than he could ever understand and he didn’t know how to deal with that yet 
✞ you slowly walk out, seeing him sitting on the ground somewhere, surrounded by the mess that he’d made 
✞ he had thrown all the cushions and pillows on the couch. ripped up the first drafts of the note. he’d even knocked one of his monitors to the ground, shattering it.
✞ you sit with him and talk together 
✞ you make a plan for how you can both deal with these times better 
✞ he promises to spend his life making sure you’re as happy as you can be 

V/Jihyun:

☼ i’m so sorry but i don’t want to hurt this precious roll 

I am going to submit a random headcanon to you:  

Stiles dragging the pack to play Laser Tag.

Stiles that played once, when he was twelve. He asked it as his birthday present, and John and Melissa drove them to the nearest place from Beacon Hills. Stiles was absolutely delighted, until they learned that they would be put with strangers to form a team. It all went downhill from there. 

They were left alone to be shot at fifteen seconds in, and had to hide under a ramp. Scott had an asthma attack when the fog machines started and Stiles, terrified, had to drag both of them out. He then fell into a full blown panic attack in the changing rooms.

So, not their best memory.

But fast forward seven years later. They are nineteen now, Scott is a werewolf and Stiles has been tortured and shot at. Laser tag is gonna be easy. Stiles is so ready to avenge their younger selves.

He only need a team.

Stiles prudently presents the idea during pack night. He’s not worried for most of them, he knows that most of his friends have an unhealthy love for violence and winning. He’s also ready to make Scott cry in order to convince Isaac.


The only unknown variable is their taciturn alpha. Somehow, convincing him to play with lasers in a room reeking of teenager’s hormones and sweat seems like a difficult task. But Stiles has prepared his speech, he has perfectly reasonable arguments, and he will bullshit about pack unity and trust exercises if need be.

Of course, because this is Derek and he likes to fuck up with Stiles’ expectations, he’s only finished the first sentence of his passionate plea when Derek raises one hand in the air to stop him.

Yes,” he breathes, and smiles. They all blink at him a little. Derek keeps smiling, bunny teeth showing and looking almost… excited.

So.

Derek’s family apparently used to throw their kids into the woods to pitch them against each other for fun.

Stiles is not surprised.

Stiles is awfully not surprised.

This was the family whose genes created Peter Hale.

Not noticing their stunned silence, Derek describes his childhood memories. During their monthly run under the full moon, adults used to hide colored pieces of tissue everywhere. The next day, Derek, his sisters and cousins were all let loose, in several teams, into the wood. At dusk, the team that was able to bring back the more targets to their home base while protecting said home base from enemy raids won. The prize was some old trophy, bragging rights and first crack at every dish during the huge dinner.

Derek is trying so hard to communicate his enthusiasm for his claws-and-fangs-allowed, hunger-game version of catch the flag that his hands are moving a little bit in the air. It’s adorable.

When Scott tries to get back on the subject of laser tag (Stiles glares at him, because Derek was sharing things), Derek immediately nods and explains helpfully that there is a place supernatural-friendly just 45 minutes away from Beacon Hills. There is no protest in the pack. Stiles bats the air with his fist in victory.

Their first game together teaches Stiles a lot of things.

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Word Count: 2031
Author’s Note: So I have this personal headcanon that Bones loves filthy limericks, but he’s too much of a gentleman to share them unless he’s really, really intoxicated. This, coupled with his horrible flirting in Into Darkness, gave me this fic to share with you. tagging @youre-on-a-starship​ and @outside-the-government​ because they both expressed such interest in the idea.


You’d heard about the legendary shore leave shenanigans of the Enterprise crew, even before you’d been assigned to her. Rumour had it things got absolutely crazy on the first night, and tapered off from there, depending on your division. Operations was rumoured to party the hardest, partly to remind themselves they were alive, you guessed. You’d been told they remembered to toast their absent friends individually every night. Science was the next most likely to go on a prolonged tear, but you didn’t find that difficult to believe. Science held within it the Medical Corp, and you’d never met a nurse who wasn’t just a little bit wild. Additionally, the science labs were full of the kind of equipment that allowed bored officers to brew moonshine. That left Command as the Cinderella squad, destined to leave before the party really got started. But it was a comparative scale, really, and you suspected with a captain like Jim Kirk, the Command division wasn’t going to be leaving the ball before the fun started.

You’d been aboard for about six months when shore leave was announced, and you hoped your liver was up to the task. The gleam in Christine Chapel’s eye suggested it might not be.

“Come on, Doc,” she gestured to you. “We should find out what they’ve been cooking in the back of the lab.”

“I don’t know about this,” you replied, hesitant. She laughed and linked her arm in yours.

“First shore leave is always the worst. Just plan to alternate booze and water, and put a hypo at your bedside. You can step whoever you wake up with through giving it to you,” she winked.

“Whoever I wake up with?” You gaped. You hadn’t been on the ship long enough to make those types of connections.

“Think of it like a rite of passage, Y/N. Eventually, you’ll make a mistake and sleep with someone on this boat. You’re better off doing it sooner than later. And better to do it drunk on shore leave. Because then you can blame not knowing people better, and too much booze,” she explained. You shook your head.

“I don’t know, Chris, that seems pretty calculated.” You couldn’t help but blush just thinking about trying to seduce any of the crew you’ve met so far. There wasn’t really anyone who did anything for you. Well, there was one person. Who was completely off limits.

“You’ll thank me for this wisdom later, Doc.” She winked, and continued to lead you through the maze of the lab until you reached the very back. “Hey, Jameson, what’s cooking back here?”

“Would you believe I’ve managed a completely flavourless 100 proof coming out of the still right now?” Lt. Jameson grinned. “We’ll have to be very careful with it.” She offered a beaker to Christine who took a sip and tipped her head, her eyes wide.

“Oh, wow. That’s smooth,” she breathed, her eyes wide. “Try it, Y/N.” She pressed the beaker into your hand and you gave her a worried look as you tilted the glass to take a sip. It tasted like water, but it burned going down.

“Oh, that’s trouble,” you commented, garnering a laugh from both women. Christine clapped you on the back.

“Stick with me, Doc. I’ll make sure you survive,” she promised.


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Special Instructions (1/?)

Summary: Drunk Emma really likes pizza. She also really happens to like the cute delivery guy who seems content to carry out all of her wishes via the “Special Instructions” box on the website.  (AO3)
Rating: M (eventually)
Word Count: ~1700

This has been burning a hole on my desktop for a couple months now and I just really felt like if I didn’t start posting it would probably never get finished… I’m a couple chapters in with the writing but I think this is going to end up being like between 10 and 15 chapters, all roughly the same length if I can pull it. We’ll see how that goes. Anyway, this was gonna just be like a cheesy smut fic originally but I apparently like to overthink things and it became slightly cuter of an idea…

@stubble-sandwich THANKS FOR LETTING ME GUSH ABOUT THIS STUPID IDEA WITH YOU. Look at me, finally posting the fuckin pizza guy au… christ…

Special instructions: pls make smiley face with pepperoni, i could use something happy right now

She’d typically have left the box blank but Emma was currently full of self-pity and a little too drunk to really care how she appeared to the rest of the world.

Two years she’d spent with Walsh. Two years of warm embraces and whispered I love you’s and sweet kisses and integrating him into her close-knit group of friends despite some heavy resistance – especially from David; she reminded herself to give her brother a hug later for trying – and for what? 

For him to just “reconnect” with his ex at what was supposed to be their engagement party?

“I’m so sorry, Em. I never meant to hurt you like this. It just… happened. I can’t help how I feel.”

She scoffed in disgust. What an asshole. A total prick.

She finished off her fifth – sixth? – bottle of beer and popped open another. Maybe after another few she’d forget the sight of him with his tongue down that other woman’s throat. Maybe she’d forget the shock and guilt on his face when she’d dropped her glass of champagne at seeing them together, stunned to see her betrothed blatantly cheating on her by the bathrooms while their party guests mulled about in the main room, completely clueless.

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May I have this drink?

Request: Your Archie imagine is seriously so cute! Could I request another Archie x Reader where the reader, a river vixen, gets drunk at a party and Archie takes care of her? If you’re comfortable with writing about alcohol, that is! I completely understand if it’s something you don’t want to write about! Thank you :)

A/N: Stop this is so cute.  This is gendered (fem!) because I assumed based on the request.  If you want a gender neutral version feel free to message me.  I also got a lil bit carried away with this one omg.  Also lowkey based on a true to life party experience. wild time.  Also, god, am I sorry about the number of times I had to post this and delete it to get into the tag.  If you follow me, sorry. Thank you for requesting, and feel free to hit up my inbox with any ideas for imagines!

Word count: 1655

Warnings: cursing, alcohol mention, vomit mention, parties?  I don’t know if I’m doing this right.

Originally posted by jane-foster

Alcohol had never really been your thing.  You could tolerate it, but a coke was much more up your alley.  You just had an issue with control, and alcohol took that control from you.  

So you didn’t drink.  Big whoop.

However, with your boyfriend Archie being a big popular quarterback and you being a big popular River Vixen now, you frequently found yourself being dragged along to post-win parties where most people in your school were shit faced by eleven.  

This was a routine you found yourself slipping into: getting dragged along, pouring a soda for yourself, and finding a wall to lean on until it was time to drive your boyfriend home.  However tonight, the routine had been broken.  Reggie for some reason wouldn’t leave you alone, and Archie was off making friends somewhere, leaving you to deal with him on your own.  Not that you couldn’t just… what a waste of your time.  

“You know, you kind of come across to me as a rum girl.  You a rum girl?”  You imitated a buzzer noise at his guess, eyes straight ahead, trying to give him as little attention as possible.  “Tequila?  No.  You’re classier than that.”  He continued making his judgements based on what alcohol he guessed you must have been drinking.  “Vodka?  Is there even vodka here?”

“There’s always vodka, but you’re still wrong.” He seemed confused for a moment, but a sneaky grin soon stretched across his face in realization.

“So miss cheerleader badass doesn’t even drink?” You rolled your eyes, letting out a sarcastic ding, ding, ding!  “Wow.  Now I always picked you as kind of hard to read, but I was sure I had you down as a rum girl.  Really?  What is that just coke?” Unamused, you nodded.  “Interesting.  So no way you’re getting messy drunk tonight?”  Not wanting to say something you may regret, you sucked in a deep breath.  “Shame.  Was looking forward to that fun.” He winked, and then pushed off into the crowd, leaving you at your wall.

An hour or so passed, and you drank a few more cups of your sugary soda.  Around the third, you started to feel different.  Passing it off as just being tired, you kept yourself hydrated through your profuse sweating at the temperature of the room.  However, a few cups later you found yourself really noticing a difference in how you felt.  Your stomach started to churn a little bit, and it was almost like the room was spinning.

You noticed someone’s eyes on you from across the room, and hesitantly you met them, finding Reggie staring right at you.  The churning in your stomach turned vicious as you felt a disoriented anger rise in your blood, narrowing your eyes at him.  He had done something.  Presumably, something bad.  He took slow steps toward you, stopping about eight inches from you.  

“You alright Y/N?” He asked, a wide smile on his face.  He inched toward you, but you raised your hand to stop him.  However, your arm felt kind of light, limp almost, and your palm against his chest definitely wouldn’t be much.  “Whoa.  Have you been drinking?  Damn, you smell like rum.” He chuckled, and you let out a noise that almost resembled a growl.

He had been right, you were a rum girl if any, and your neutrality towards the taste of it had allowed you to get drunk off spiked soda.  Presumably, spiked by the devil incarnate.

“You’re a real ass,” you slurred, mentally cursing at your inability to hide the fact that you were inebriated.  This could easily be blamed on the fact that you didn’t drink often, and that you had probably consumed quite a bit of alcohol at this point.  “Where’s Archie?”

Reggie pretended to think for a minute, “Hm, I don’t really know.  He dipped out of the crowd around half an hour ago.”

You tried taking deep breaths to encourage your body to flush this garbage out of your system.  “I’m going to find my boyfriend.”  You took one step forward, and found somebody’s foot where yours was supposed to go, and all your weight went backwards right into a body.  

Reggie’s mocking tone filled your ear as he whispered, “Whoa there, Y/N.  Don’t go so soon.  You’re in no shape to be walking around a party on your own.”

“Get off me, you pig,” you grumbled, using your half-functioning limbs to push against his tight grip around your waist.  When he wouldn’t budge, you found yourself panicking a little, struggling more.  Your eyes searched the living room for Archie, but he was nowhere to be found, this only increasing your nerves.  “I said, get off!” You tried yelling, but your voice was fragile, lacking in the power it normally had.

“Shh… you’ve had too much to drink.  Let’s go find Archie.” He let go of your waist, giving off the impression that you’d be allowed to walk, however a nudge sent to your shoulder sent your unbalanced body tumbling forward.  Before you hit the ground, the boy pulled you into his arms.

“Put me down!  Stop touching me!” You wriggled in his grip, only making him smile more.  

“Reggie!” Archie’s voice suddenly hit your eardrums, and while you weren’t necessarily soothed immediately, it worked wonders on your building anxiety.  “What the hell are you doing, man?”

“Your girlfriend was looking for you.  She’s too drunk to walk.  Figured I’d help you out.” Reggie shrugged, letting you out of his arms, however your moments of being held like that juxtaposed to being vertical all of a sudden was no help for your already terrible equilibrium.  You found yourself free-falling into the chest of your ginger-haired, anger-puffed boyfriend.

“What’d you give her?” He grumbled, the words sending vibrations through his chest that made you giggle, his arm wrapping tightly around your back.  “Did you drug her?”

Reggie smiled fakely.  “Of course I didn’t.  She just confused the coke with the spiked stuff.  Easy mistake.”

“Not for someone ten times smarter than you,” Archie roared.  

“Archie,” you mumbled into the soft material of his shirt.

“If she’s so smart why didn’t she notice before she became full on drunk?” Reggie tossed back.

“Not being able to handle alcohol and intelligence are very different things.”  Archie narrowed his eyes, clearly ready to fight Reggie right here and now.

“Archie,” you tried again to stop him, this time tugging at his collar.

“What, babe?” He asked softly, ducking his head to insure you hear him, but not breaking eye contact with Reggie.

“We should just go.” He frowned at your slurred words but nodded, sending another threatening glare at Reggie before looping his arm under your legs and pulling you to his chest.  He carried you to his car, smiling at your soft ‘thank you’s’ that you whispered into his shirt.  “Hold on,” you said suddenly.  “Put me down.”  Without hesitation, he propped you onto your feet, and then promptly holding your hair behind your shoulders as you emptied the contents of your stomach onto the lawn.  “Wow that was hot,” you grumbled to yourself, leaning back against Archie as he helped you into the passenger seat.

“You feeling okay?”

“I’m doing great.”  You leant your forehead against the cool leatherette dashboard.   Even drunk, your sarcasm came through strong.  “Is this what it always feels like?”

Archie tried focusing on the road, but kept turning to see you were doing okay with the bumpy roads.  He found himself swerving to avoid the potholes so you wouldn’t vomit all over your own car, a worried crinkle in his brow at the sight of your now sleeping form in the passenger seat.  He pulled into your driveway, quietly maneuvering out of the car and coming to your side.

He placed a hand on your shoulder.  “Hey, we’re at your house.”

“Are my parents home?” You murmured, eyes open to slits.

“I don’t think so.”  

“Can you carry me?”

“‘F course.”  He once again pulled you into his arms, comfortably carrying you to your door, twisting the handle seemingly with ease despite having his hands full.  “Do you wanna shower?”

“Too tired.” He nodded.  

“Okay, let’s brush your teeth, though.”  

“‘Kay.”  Your lips brushed against his neck as your head lolled against his shoulder, him grinning at having you so close.   He carried you like this up your stairs to the bathroom where he sat you down on the fluffy bath mat with your back leaned against the tub.  

“How are you feeling?”

“Dumb.”

“Why’s that, babe?” He asked softly, squeezing some toothpaste on a toothbrush and handing it to you.  

“He got me drunk.” You frowned to yourself.

“It happens to everyone.” You looked up to him, and he smiled at the ring of white foam around your mouth.  While part of him was still mad at Reggie for getting you in a state like this, he had to say, you were kind of funny drunk.  He held his hand forward, pulling you upright and then leaning you against his chest.  “Spit.”  

He then softly walked you to your bedroom, where he helped you into a pair of his sweatpants that he found in the drawer and a baggy tee.  He laid you down under your covers, kneeling down beside your bed to get to your level.  “How are you doing?”

You smiled, “Why do you keep asking that?”

“I want to make sure you’re doing alright.”

You nodded.  “I’m doing alright.”

“Good.” He grinned as you shut your eyes.  

Without moving you asked, “Are you staying?”

He cocked his head.  “Do you want me to?”

“I’d like it.” His lips cracked into a smile again as he took off his jeans and shirt and gingerly laid down beside you.  You subconsciously turned into his chest, his arms wrapping around your back.  “I hate alcohol.”

He giggled lightly.  “Yeah, I know you do.”

No Sleep Till Brooklyn, Part 2

Heartmate Series: Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Deadpool, Falcon

Warnings: language, violence - Deadpool’s in it guys, it ain’t PG.

A/N: This is my take on the soulmate trope. It’s not necessarily an AU, because technically heartmate is canon in the Marvel world - at least with Wade’s comics. 

Summary: You’re a mutant turned mercenary, working with the best merc around - Wade Fucking Wilson aka Deadpool. You are also someone who doesn’t believe in the whole heartmate crap. How could two people solely be made for each other? Steve Rogers is Captain America,  Avenger extraordinaire. Call him old fashion, but he believed in heartmates and knew he had one out there. The two of you cross paths one day and things get set in motion. Can Steve get passed the jaded wall you built or would things just crash and burn? And will Wade Wilson finally learn to put the seat down after taking a piss? Who knows.

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6 Part 7

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Matty Healy Fic- ‘You’re Cold And I Burn’

Prompt: Can you do a Matty fic where you two grew up together?  Like best friends since birth, and then as you get older the age gap separates you and eventually you drift apart?  But then reconnect in following years?  Thanks so much tay :)) 

Authors note: This took me sooo long to write and I did no proofreading whatsoever, so please pardon the inevitable errors below.  

Trigger Warnings: drug use 

MATTY HEALY FIC

You’d been obligatory friends for years, because when your parents were best mates, surely you had to be too.  Your friendship with Matty was comfortable, genuine, safe, always there, achingly present and solid. You never felt uneasy confiding in Matty, somehow your three year age gap made him seem more worldly, more experienced. You spent the quickly passing school years making one another’s homes your own, your mom called Matty her honorary son, while Matty’s mom doted on you, saying you were the daughter she wished she had. Everyone knew that if they wanted to find Matty, they had to find you first.

The summer that Matty’s ten and you’re seven, is the best in both of your eyes.  All of Matty’s friends think he’s way too old to be hanging out with such a little kid, but you’re convinced that you’re a big kid now too. You don’t need to hold your mum’s hand everywhere you go. Matty had taught you how to swim without floaties and you can ride your bike without training wheels. Besides, you and Matty’s friendship surpassed any of the teasing he might get from the other year five kids.  You two share everything, popsicles, beds, secrets.

When Matty turns thirteen and you’re ten, it’s like a switch has been flipped. Matty’s discovered music and cigarettes and girls. You’re finally old enough to go places on your own, but Matty’s outgrown the movie theater across town and the ice cream place down the street. Your mum tells you it’s called hormones but you don’t care, you just want to watch VCR’s and eat sweets and fall asleep talking to your best friend every night.

It’s a turning point, ten years of friendship nearly right down the drain.

At sixteen and thirteen, your age gap has never seemed wider. Matty stops coming over and eventually trades in his football cleats for a new guitar, candy for cigarettes, and you for older girls.  You feel a bit like you’ve lost part of yourself; a big, important part of yourself that you aren’t sure how to function without. It was bound to happen, your mom tells you, but it still hurts nonetheless. You aren’t really sure that Matty even feels it, not over whatever high he’s chasing next.

By eighteen and fifteen, Matty starts coming around again, but only in the middle of the night, when he’s high out of his mind. You try not to care though. You sneak him in through your bedroom window and let him curl beside you underneath your comforter. Sometimes he’s crying, sometimes he’s shaking so badly he can’t say anything, and sometimes he smells like vodka and cheap perfume. You always hold him and pretend that he isn’t falling apart in front of your very eyes.

On your sixteenth birthday, Matty’s already turned nineteen. He gets you drunk for the first time, even though you swore you’d never touch the stuff, down at the park where Matty taught you how to kick a football around.  As you sit on the scratchy blanket from the trunk of your car, taking another swig from the bottle, you realize that in the past sixteen years, Matty’s taught you a lot of things.  Not all of them good; you gather from the burning feeling in your throat, but that’s besides the point. What you don’t know is that Matty’s come to the same realization, and it terrifies him.  You terrify him. Especially when the moon hangs high above you and Matty’s rambling on about the last song he wrote and you lean over and press your lips smack against his.

In your opinion, the kiss was a long time coming.  You’d imagined it before, countless times actually, but knew you’d never be brave enough to actually act on your feelings.  At least you thought you wouldn’t be brave enough, that was before the alcohol made everything seem so much simpler.  

When you pull back, butterflies rampant in the closed confinements of your stomach, you’re finally able to gage Matty’s reaction.  His eyes have lowered to the ground, like he’s staring intently at his hand picking apart a blade of grass next to the blanket.  You wait a little longer, staring at the thin line Matty’s mouth is forming into.  His lack of response sobers you up.  The buzz that once gave you infinite amounts of courage melts away like a coat of ice, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.  

Finally Matty speaks, his words hanging heavy in the night, “I think maybe it’s time I take you home.”

It’s a subtle rejection.  There’s no boisterous protesting or him telling you you’re disgusting like you’d imagined in all of the worst-case-scenerio reruns in your head.  But somehow, this is infinitely worse.  This can’t be played off as embarrassment or denial.  It was just apathy, disinterest.  

You and Matty don’t speak about it for the next year, when Matty’s twenty and you’re seventeen. And Matty says he’s finally leaving for good. Your first impulse is to cry, to scream and yell and shove.  But ever since Matty turned you down, you’ve been afraid of being honest with him,  afraid of looking weak.  So instead, you scoff, crossing your arms across your chest and leaning against the doorframe of his kitchen.  “I don’t blame you,” you say.  Even though you did.  You blamed him for his unhappiness, and you thought maybe if he didn’t drown himself in alcohol every night, he wouldn’t be so agitated.  Maybe if he didn’t settle for these people who continuously treated him like shit, he wouldn’t be so lonely.  Maybe if he stopped seeing you like a little kid, he wouldn’t feel so unloved.  Everything inside of you blamed him for his own unhappiness, but a part of you was beginning to blame him for yours too.  

He’d made you a promise years ago, that you’d never be alone, best friends forever, through thick and thin. But Matty stands in front of you, talking about how he just can’t take it anymore, his parents or their hometown or the looks he gets when he buys weed in a back alley and picks you up from the high school across the street after his shift at work.

What he doesn’t tell you, is that most of all, he can’t take you. He can’t take the way you’re growing into your own skin and out of your curls. He can’t take the way that you’re still finding yourself, desperately exploring all these outlets and destinations and finding your heart.  Or the way that he holds you back.  He can’t take the way you think you want him, because Matty knows what happens when he lets people in and he knows he really won’t be able to take it when you finally realize you deserve better.  You just were never meant to be, at least not in this lifetime.

He’ll never admit any of it out loud though, instead he’ll pack up in the middle of the night without really saying goodbye and he’ll drive until he hits London. He’ll find a shitty flat and a new best mate and start a band. He’ll get a new job and a new guitar and maybe, hopefully, a new heart.

You hadn’t really realized how much time you’d actually spent with Matty, until he’s gone.  You try to find a semblance, you try to get into your own routine, but it’s harder than you want to admit and you spend the coming months wandering down the same old paths Matty and you used to walk, through the same worn fields, taking photos of the sky, the ground, your shoes, all things that didn’t matter, things that didn’t make you smile.

The following year, you start looking into colleges, applying to just one local, safe school, but the rest of them are far.  Places you only ever dreamed of visiting.  You played it off as wanderlust.  But secretly, although you’d never admit it, you had this dream of Matty coming home to find you, ready to finally settle down, and just expecting you to still be around, but you wouldn’t be.  You’d be gone.  Long gone.  

London is appealing. Bristol is, too.  You get excited at the idea of leaving, at the idea of experiencing life outside of what you’ve always known, and you’re working up the nerve to tell your mom where you want to go when you get a phone call late Thursday night.

“Hello,” you answer on the second ring.

“Y/N—” a voice that you instantly recognize as Matty’s, says after a slight pause. “I didn’t think you’d have the same number,” he murmurs, voice slurred.

You freeze, completely blind sided. “Um. Why did you call it then?”

“I guess I hoped.”

You bite your lip, falling back into the pattern of overthinking everything you say in Matty’s presence.  

He sighs loudly.  

“How’ve you been?”

The question comes out so nonchalantly. Like it’s only been a few days since they reconciled last.  And just like that, a switch flips and the anger you’d been feeling so heavily inside boils to the surface. “How’ve I been?  Since when? Today?  Or the past year?” you snap.

At first you think he’s hung up the phone, because there’s complete silence other than your own heavy breathing.  But then the faint whimper comes across the line.  Matty is crying and suddenly, your heart hurts, your entire chest aches. “‘M sorry,” Matty mumbles incoherently, “I’m sor-sorry..”

The harshness of your words bites back at you with guilt, “It’s okay. Matty, it’s okay. Did something happen? Why’re you calling?”

He’s crying harder now, the obvious influence of alcohol is not helping. “There’s a girl here and she likes me and she keeps asking me to ask her out on dates and it just— it felt wrong, because I haven’t been with anyone since I left— and I don’t know why… but I got drunk.  I got drunk and realized she reminded me of you and suddenly it didn’t feel wrong anymore so I slept with her—.” He coughs, taking shaky breaths.

You hear his words.  You do.  You listen with every intent that you’ve always shown your friend.  But you don’t let yourself feel them.  “It’s okay, Matty,” you say, with utmost sincerity.  

“But she’s not you—“ he chokes out, “She’s in my bed and she’s got dark hair like you, but it’s not the same shade and it doesn’t smell like your shampoo.  She’s not you.”

“Shh.” you coo, burying the tears threatening to surface deep inside of you, “It’s okay.  Matty, it’s okay.  Take a deep breath.  How much did you have to drink?” you ask softly.

You hear a grunted protest on the other end, but no response.

“Take your deep breathes, Matty.  You know that always helps.  I’ll count with you if you want.  Or try running cold water over your hands.”

He breathes through the receiver for a beat too long. “I miss you.”

You let your head fall, chin to your chest, trying not to think about the girl in Matty’s bed, who she is or what she looks like. “I miss you, too.”

When the line fills with Matty’s deep breathing, you realize he’s drunkenly fallen asleep and you can finally hang up.  You wonder if he’ll even remember he called in the morning.

It’s a Wednesday and the vending machine in the hall are broken.  It’s a sign, an omen, you’re sure, because you know how to kick it in just the right way, so that as many bags of crisps as your pack can hold dump out.  But today, there’s nothing.

You have two choices, you think to yourself.  You could wander back to your own floor with a grumbling stomach, or you could venture down to the ground floor and check out those vending machines.  Your hunger outweighs your laziness and you decide to head downstairs.  

Once you’ve come to the first floor, and all stairs are evaded for now, you hold the change out in the palm of your hand and begin counting it again.  In the midst of your distracted state, you find yourself colliding with someone, head on.  

You gasp loudly, stumbling back and tightening your fist around your money so it didn’t all go flying.  But after you ground yourself, and get a chance to look up at who you ran into, is when the breath really leaves your lungs. Dressed in a ratty white t-shirt, a worn leather jacket, and jeans ripped in the knee is absolute heartbreak.  And then Matty’s eyes land on yours.

You think the world has just about stopped spinning, it feels like slow motion. Both of your eyes meet and both of your expressions fall. You’re secretly glad the vending machine was out of food, because you think if you’d had anything to eat in the last five hours, you would’ve been sick.

“Y/N—”

It isn’t a question, it’s a realization. One that makes your stomach churn. Somewhere in the back of your head, you remind yourself to keep it together.

London is a big city, you knew that before Matty left for it. You convinced yourself when you left for school that their paths would never cross again simply because they weren’t destined to. Matty had fucked off to do God only knows what with a guitar and only one suitcase. And you had waited it out, graduated, gotten into uni and done everything right. You and Matty were two different people now, moving in two different directions. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You can’t even identify what emotion you’re really feeling or what’s bubbling underneath your skin.  There was anger, sure.  Frustration and aggression.  You wanted to punch Matty right in the nose, although you weren’t sure that counted as an emotion.  But there was also this wave of nostalgia that hit you unexpectedly.  Because no matter how much you wished this was ten year old Matty standing in front of you, waiting to go grab an ice cream cone or ride bikes, you knew it would never be that simple ever again.  And that made your chest ache.  

“What’re you doing here?” is all you can think to say.

But before he can answer, a girl you recognize from your floor comes stumbling behind you, giggling loudly.

“There you are, Matthew!  You texted me like five minutes ago saying you were here— I thought you got locked out or something!”

You knew the jealousy you felt inside was unjust.  It wasn’t fair of you to stare daggers at this poor girl that Matty was inevitably using for one reason or another.  It really was your fault for expecting anything more out of the boy who’d only ever broken your heart.  

He turns his head to look back at you as the girl pulls him down the hall towards the stairs.  

“Bye Matthew,” you spit sarcastically to yourself once he’s out of earshot and you can finally let your shoulders slump and eyes fall.  

You walk all the way around the building just to take the opposite staircase and forget all about the bag of crisps.  

No deadline or piling amount of stress could give you the incentive to focus on homework.  Not with the knowledge that Matty was in the same floor as you this very moment.  Living, breathing, kissing another girl.  You feel that familiar pressure in the bridge of your nose, evidence that tears were starting to surface.  You punched the pillow on your bed, sniffling loudly.  It wasn’t fair.  It wasn’t fucking fair. You hadn’t seen him for three years.  Hadn’t spoken in two.  And yet, just like that, at the drop of a hat, one fucking glance and he had you once again.  You needed a distraction.  Something to pretend he wasn’t fucking Clara or Carissa or whatever her fucking name was, just down the hall.

You grab your keys and a jacket hanging from the back of your door before deciding you just needed to be somewhere, anywhere, away from him.

You let your door slam shut before turning around to lock it.  You fumble with it at first, your hands shake as you try to fit the key in.  In retrospect, you wished you’d just left it unlocked, risking a robbery.  You would have preferred it to Matty approaching you in the hallway.  

“Please go,” you manage to say while still keeping your eyes trained on locking your door.

“Y/N, I-I had no idea-”

“I don’t really care,” you will Matty to give up. To just fucking leave again. But Matty could never just leave, he could never let you have a clean break. He had to feel blameless first. A fucking martyr, is what he is.

“Do you really think if I had any idea, I would’ve come?!”

And there it is, just what you’d been expecting, Matty proving to you that he hasn’t changed at all. All he cares about is proving his innocence, his victimization, and if anything comes in the way of that, he caves.

“Dunno,” you sneer, “Depends on how cruel you’re feeling on any given day, I suppose.”

“Don’t be like this,” he sounds older, frustrated. Like he’s talking down to a child. Your blood run hot.

“I think you should leave.”

“I think you should let me take you out for some drinks.”

You’re sure there’s steam coming out of your ears as you spins in your spot, staring him down, “I think you’re out of your mind.”

Matty grins, that same crooked smile with the same crooked teeth that still does something to your stomach that you aren’t proud of.

“My treat?” Matty asks with a smile.

As you sit in the back booth of a pub that smells like piss, you tell yourself that you couldn’t have said no, because you were being offered free alcohol, not because you knees felt weak when Matty flashed his teeth your way.  And hell, you knew the minute you decided to leave your room you’d end up at a bar anyway.

You order a beer, and resist from an order of chips, praying to god Matty couldn’t hear the grumbling noises your stomach was angrily producing from where he sat across from you.

It’s awkward, Matty asks short questions and you offer nothing but short answers.  You’re waiting for Matty to take charge of the conversation to steer you wherever he wants you to go so he can ramble about himself and his music and his wonderful new life without you in it. But he doesn’t.

It occurs to you on your fourth beer (still on an empty stomach), that this run in isn’t to Matty what it is to you. To Matty, it’s just coincidence, a chance to catch up with an old friend whose friendship ended on the wrong foot. To you, it’s a living, breathing nightmare, something you’ve fretted over for years.

“Are you going to order chips?” Matty questions after you list off a few of your courses, more focused on the condensation from your drink than Matty in front of you.

Your head whips up, already feeling a bit dizzy, “No.”

“Why not?” he wonders, chin resting in his hands and eyes still looking completely sober, “You always used to. With extra vinegar and salt.”

You shrug, ears burning with shame and annoyance. You won’t give him a real reason, that you’re embarrassed and don’t want to eat in front of him.  Instead you’ll let Matty wonder and think that things have changed, that he doesn’t know you at all anymore.

“Well I’m going to,” he downs the rest of his gin and tonic drink and stands up, patting his jeans, “I’ll be right back, yeah?”

You give him a slight, tense nod and watch him walk away, all confidence and curls and leather.

It’s been just as awful as you imagined it would be. Matty’s not as mean as you had thought up in your head, but the awkward pauses and uncomfortable topics certainly make up for it.  You keep telling yourself that you just needs to get drunk. Once you’re drunk, you’ll be able to pretend that you don’t care so much and then you can just go home and get a long night’s sleep. Then you can wake up, go to economics, and forget it even happened.

Fifteen minutes later, and you’re sure that Matty’s ducked out and left you with the tab.  It’s a very struggling rockstar thing to do and in turn, a very Matty thing to do.  You slap your thigh angrily at the realization that you didn’t even bring your wallet with you, meaning you couldn’t pay the tab either.  You stagger, annoyed and bitter and slightly tipsy up to the bar.  

“Have you seen a curly headed guy?” you ask the bartender, leaning on the counter.  “Leather jacket, this tall-“ you hold your hand up, impersonating Matty’s height.

“Yeah,” the guy answers, rubbing a glass clean.  “Ordered chips, then ran off to the bathroom.”

The men’s room is across the pub and you hesitate slightly before entering.  You’re not sure why you’re worried about Matty.  But that worry is quickly replaced with panic, as you push open the door to the bathroom and spot Matty at the sink.

He’s bent over, curls falling in his face and eyes shut, like he hasn’t even heard you enter. He’s off in his own little drug-induced world. There’s a half empty plastic baggy on the counter and just enough remnants of a line for the pieces to click in your drunk mind.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you say out loud, in complete shock. Your head is spinning a little too fast all of a sudden.

“Y/N—” Matty breathes, eyes still squeezed shut as he straightens up and lets his head tilt back, lets it hit him. It scares you a bit because Matty inhales like he’s done this a thousand times before.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” your voice raises a bit. You feel a little bit outside of your own body. Now that you’ve found a reason to be angry, everything you’ve felt and bottled up all night is hitting you all at once.

“‘S alright,” his eyes open, but only half lidded.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you say in disbelief, shaking your head as you feel the influx of tears falling down your cheeks.  You wipe them away angrily with your hand.

Matty’s eyes widen and he looks so different than the version of him you’d been formulating in your head the past three years. The messy hair, tired eyes, and chapped lips all looked the same.  But there was a sadness about him now.  An aura of tragedy and dismay surrounded him, making you wonder if the three years he spent away were really as outrageous and spectacular as you’d always thought.  Your face softens.

Matty’s absolutely fucked.  And there’s so much you want to say to him, so much you need to say.  But now’s not the time.  Not when there’s snot running down his nose and his pupils were practically bulging out of his skull.

“Let’s just head back, yeah?”

Matty doesn’t protest in the slightest.  In a quick motion, he slings his jacket over his shoulder and sniffs the remainder of cocaine up his nose before following you out of the bathroom.  You’re glad he remembers to slap down some money on the table before letting you drag him back to the dorm rooms.

“Which room’s hers?” you ask once you’ve reached your floor.  You pretend like it didn’t eat away at you to have to drag Matty back to some other girl’s dorm room.

“Hm?” Matty grunted.

“Clara? Which room’s Clara’s?”

“No—“ Matty protested, stopping dead in his tracks near your door.  “Common, she knows I ditched her, she’s not gonna let me sleep in there.  Can’t I just crash with you? Like the old days?” he says with a smirk.  

You nod grudgingly and push by him to unlock your door.  You find yourself trying to remember what state you left your bedroom in, hoping nothing embarrassing was left out for Matty to see.  

Luckily, you’d left it in tact and only swipe up a few articles of clothing once you make your way inside.  You hear Matty already collapsing on your bed before you have time to even take your coat off.  You sigh as you turn around, but notice he’s got one eye propped open, watching you from the mattress.  

“You know that shit’s terrible for you, right?” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, in the most sincere way possible.

Matty shrugged nonchalantly, and sits up on your bed, his eyes bloodshot. “And? We’re all gonna die anyway.”

“How beautifully cryptic of you,” you say sarcastically.

“It’s just coke,” he plays it off.

“Just coke?  Matty, common, I know you’re smarter than this.”

“Why do you care so much?” Matt asked apathetically, though you both know it was a loaded question. Matty was right, why should you care?  You didn’t know Matty, not anymore.  You didn’t owe him anything.  If Matty didn’t care about himself, why should you care?  But maybe it’s for the same reason that you comforted Matty over the phone. Maybe it’s for the same reason you let him take you out for drinks tonight.  Maybe it was because you knew you’d always love Matty, even though you knew fate just wouldn’t allow it.  But of course you couldn’t tell Matty that, so you just shook your head as you stripped off your jacket.  

“Maybe I shouldn’t,” you state quietly, more as a reminder to yourself than an insult to Matty.  But you hear him sigh softly from the bed.  

You huddle near your dresser, grabbing an old pair of shorts and ratty t-shirt from your drawer before changing behind the door of your closet.  You don’t even both to run a brush through your hair before you trot back over to your bed, where Matty was sprawled directly in the middle.

“Scoot over,” you order.

He looks up at you questioningly from the pillow.

“If you thought I was giving up my bed, you don’t know me at all, Healy.”

He smirks before hiding his face in the pillow and scooting against the wall.  

You awkwardly lift as much of the blankets as you can before sliding in, noticing Matty hadn’t covered himself with them at all.  

“Thanks for lettin’ me stay,” he grumbles.  You can tell how trashed he still is so you just nod, staring straight up at the ceiling.  

“Goodnight, Matty.”

At around three in the morning, you wake up to Matty shivering violently beside you. He’s got his arm coiled around his thin body and you swear you can hear his teeth chattering. You look for a moment at how vulnerable Matty was, shivering and asleep, and it makes your chest ache inside.  

Your first impulse is to cover him with a blanket, but with him laying directly over both the comforter and sheets, that option was shot.  Instead, you opt to just wake him up.

“Matty—“ you say, nudging his shoulder.  “Matty, wake up.”

His eyes pop open with a start and he looks at you, surprised, like he’s forgotten where he was momentarily.  

“You’re shivering,” you whisper.  

He stares for a moment, like it’s taking that much extra time for your words to sink in before he speaks, “m sorry,” he grumbles in that deep, sleepy voice you used to love so much.  

“Get under the blankets,” you suggest and he nods, lifting himself higher on the bed before scooting underneath the sheets.  You immediately feel his toes touch your bare leg, and you can’t help but notice they’re not freezing like you’d expected.  He lays on his side, facing you, and before you can convince yourself otherwise, you flip so that you’re facing him, too.  You stare into his tired eyes, waiting for them to shut any second, but they don’t.  They remain focused on yours, his pupils returned to a normal size.  

“I really missed you,” you say, because you’re exhausted and you have no filter when you’re tired.  

Matty nods, “I really missed you, too.”

You nod in return.  Like these were just facts, not needed to be said out loud, but still glad that they were.  

And again, because you were impulsive when you were exhausted, you don’t even hesitate before sliding yourself across the distance that separated you and Matty, curling your arm around his waist and pressing your head into his chest.  Only when you feel his arm wrap around you, his fingers spreading wide across your back, do you inhale smoothly.  He smells like cigarettes and whatever drink he had earlier, but it’s still Matty, and it’s the freshest breath of air you’ve had in a long time.  

You wake up early.  Hours earlier than Matty.  Once you’re awake, and no longer on the brink of exhaustion.  You let the fact that you’re curled into Matty’s side, with your head resting on his beating heart sink in.  You bite your lip, wanting to stay in the moment a while longer, and play with the hem of your baggy t-shirt.  You let the tears fall silently down your cheek, mostly because you were so mad at yourself.  

It’s not like you and Matty hadn’t cuddled before.  You spent the latter of your sleepovers curled up in blanket forts together, after all.  But this was different.  Because in one, weak, desperate moment, you let yourself feel for him again.  After spending three entire fucking years accumulating reasons to hate Matty Healy, in one moment, you let them all melt away.  You let yourself be vulnerable to him; open, exposed.  And you remember all too clearly what happened the last time that happened.

You pull yourself out of bed and pretend not to notice Matty’s arm searching for you in his sleep.  Instead of curling back beside him, like you wanted, you grabbed your shower caddy and hurried off to the bathroom.  

Matty slept until nine thirty, and when he opened his groggy eyes, he found you sitting in your desk chair, knees tucked against your chest writing vigorously away.  

“Morning,” he said, the same, sleepy voice softened your heart slightly.

“Good morning,” you said back, turning around timidly in your chair.

Matty’s got this wild hair-thing going on.  His curls stick straight up in the air and it’s so endearing it makes you want to slap and kiss him at the same time.  But then he scoots off to the toilets, and you have a moment to compose yourself before he’s coming back looking a bit more refreshed.  

You hesitate when he invites you to breakfast, worried he might sneak off and do a line of coke in the bathroom again or worse, but you don’t say so out loud.  Instead you agree, ignoring the class you’re blatantly skipping for him, just another reminder of the influence Matty had on you.

You find yourselves sitting across from each other at the back of a coffee shop. You had ordered a bagel and some tea and Matty was sipping at a coffee, straight black.

“You sure you don’t want anything to eat? Not even a bite of my bagel? It’s good,” you offered.

“Nah, ‘m good,” Matty says as he takes another sip of his coffee.

“Matty be honest, when’s the last time you ate?” you asked, looking at Matty with serious eyes.

Matty held the stare for a bit until you quirked your eyebrows up and he realized that you were actually being serious and weren’t going to let him avoid answering the question.  “I’m not bloody starving myself, if that’s what you’re wondering. I told you I just don’t get hungry much but when I do, I eat. Don’t worry— you sound like a mum.”

“Okay,” you say, crunching up the paper from your bagel and letting it go.

Matty didn’t respond for a few minutes. Just sipped at his coffee silently until he spoke again. “You know you don’t have to worry so much about me.  I do fine.”

“I’m sure you do,” you say, shrugging.

“Come off it-“ Matty says, nudging your arm, “I know you, Y/N.  I can tell when something’s bugging you.  What is it?” he asks.

You bite your lip and trace the edge of your mug, contemplating for a moment before asking him “Why are you so afraid to let someone care about you?” you inquired cautiously.

Matty frowned, “I’m not ‘afraid’" he said defensively.  “I just.. I know how the world works and I know what’s worth worrying over and what’s not.”

You shake your head.  You were sick of Matty pretending like he was so much wiser.  So much more experienced.  You were sick of his pretentious outlook, his excessive need to bullshit his way through life.

“What is this?” you ask, finally gathering the courage to just look him in the eye.  

“Look I don’t know what you want—“

“I want to know what this is, Matty,” you state clearly. You debated on elaborating further, but Matty’s fallen gaze indicated that he knew exactly what you meant.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and you almost think it’s sincere until he looks up and lets out an innocent, hearty laugh, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Fuck you,” you sigh, feeling so defeated and drained.  You dig into the pocket of your coat and throw money on the table, not wanting to give Matty the satisfaction of buying breakfast too, before sliding out of the booth and walking towards the door.

“Woah, woah!” he calls, you can hear him hurrying after you.  You only quicken your pace out into the brisk morning air.  “Please Y/N, just look at me.” His voice is wobbly. Like he knows he’s fucked up. “Wait a second, please.”

You spin around at the contact of Matty’s hand, and turn to face him, squeezing your eyes shut before deciding you’d just had enough and you didn’t care.  You didn’t care about looking weak or vulnerable.  You just wanted it to stop.  

“You left,” you bark at him, making his eyes go wide.  “Remember?  You did.  Not me.  I was in love with you and you just left, like it was nothing.  Like I was nothing.”

Matty’s mouth hangs open slightly, his eyes still hooked on yours as he listens to the words that should have been said years ago.

“You were my whole world, Matty.  And you just fucking left.  I had to learn how to live without you, and that sucked.  But I did it,” you pause to wipe the tears from your face, before continuing with a choked voice, “Why didn’t you call me?  Or ever check in?  Or god forbid fucking visit once and a while?  Why’d you have to disappear?”

“I did call,” Matty says quietly.

His words make you freeze.  You narrow your eyes in on him and say in disbelief, “You remember that?”

He let’s out a heavy sigh, and fidgets in front of you, clearly uncomfortable.  “Of course I remember that.”

“You called me about some chick you fucked,” you say, annoyed.

“Yeah,” he admits, “Some chick.  That’s all they were.  Some chicks to fuck.  They were a shag.  They were nothing.  They weren’t you,” he inhales sharply on the last word, like he’d embarrassed to say it out loud.

But you shake your head, confused.  “No, you left.  You left, Matty.”

He nods, “I know.  I know, I did.  I left cause I was a mess. I am a mess.  I mean look at me—“ he holds his arms out straight like he’s showcasing himself, “I’m a fuck up.  And you kissed me, that night on your birthday, and it was perfect.”  He closes his eyes, like he’s remembering that night. “You were perfect.  And I was gonna ruin that—you— I don’t know.  But I couldn’t.  I couldn’t drag you into my shit.  The drugs, the alcohol.  I was never going anywhere, that much I knew.  But you?  You graduated top, you’re at uni, you’re gonna make a difference.”  Matty pauses briefly, getting to the ultimate point of his rant, “I was afraid I wasn’t enough for you.”

You let his words sink into the layers of your skin, absorbing their impact and trying to make sense of it all.  But that’s the thing, you realize.  Is that none of it made any sense.  Because all this time, you’d been trying to listen to fate and realize what you really wanted, what was meant to be.  And it sounded like Matty had been doing the same, chasing happiness.  Chasing something written in the stars.  

Maybe if you’d actually talked to each other, and been honest, this mess wouldn’t have happened.  You can already feel the temptations that beating yourself up bring, but you sigh, acknowledging that you were here now; standing in the middle of a busy, London street with Matty standing in front of you.  

“Not enough for me?” you repeat, the words sounding bitter on the tip of your tongue.  “You are everything to me—“ you say it like it’s obvious.  Like there’s nothing more true in the entire world.  In your world, there might not be.

Fuck fate, you think when Matty closes the distance between you two in just three quick strides. This is what you’ve always wanted, before you even knew it was something you could or couldn’t have.  You know you aren’t meant to have it, your whole lives have been a story of how they were never meant to be, how one of you was always two steps ahead of the other. But for now, you were here; Matty’s hand cupping your cheek delicately, your hands finding their way to his back, your lips moving as one.  And you decide, in that moment that you were going to fight for what you wanted, fate could go to hell.

Move on – Jeff Atkins x Reader

Request: Hello! :) I’m a sucker for angst so I was wondering if you can do one based on the song Lips of An Angel? Like maybe the reader and Jeff broke up then months later they decided to get back into dating someone through dollar valentines? They’re dating someone new but both is secretly still in love with the other without them knowing? And both regrets or smth. Fluff or angst ending you decide hehehe –K

Summary: The italicized letters mean that the scene described is a flashback..

I heard this song while I was writing.

Words: 3572

Reader’s point of view.

Enjoy it!


Your name: submit What is this?

The music was too loud, possibly heard in the next few blocks. The party was at its point and i was dancing in the middle of the room, shaking my hair and a red glass at the top of beer in my hand. I wasn’t worried that i would shed a considerable amount of liquid in every movement, but who cared? Everyone here was drunk enough to need my drink. Tomorrow I would regret this, especially for the hangover but I would take care of that in due time.

I stopped for a few seconds to drink the little content I had, I didn’t used to go to parties, but when I did, I knew perfectly how to have fun. I usually came with my boyfriend, but lately he’s committed to his qualifications after receiving an ultimatum from his trainer, who had missed this one. I could have been a good girlfriend and stay home an assistant, but the reality was, i wasn’t better than he at school, and this party was important so that we both lost it. For the moment, I received no threats to drive me out of the cheerleading squad, so I don’t worry about staying home and studying, not on a Friday night. No doubt, I was already drunk. Jeff wasn’t going to love this.

“You move very well, girl”

I turned with a big smile on my way to the voice behind my back. A boy, who was supposed to know because his face was too familiar, perhaps sharing a class or two, it didn’t matter, it wasn’t the time to think about the institute, or tasks or anything else.

After seeing that boy at the party, there is no record of anything else, until a few hours after Jessica was in charge of giving me a good reprimand, regret that she hadn’t had a portal like a saint during the celebration, although At least she did it with her boyfriend. That boy, he wasn’t my boyfriend. My boyfriend had stayed at home among books, while I was making one of my worst mistakes in my life, and there was no day until today that I regretted every action that night.

I balanced my phone in the dark of my room. There is no record of having brought me a house where I wasn’t very well received, now carried a good punishment, and not for attending the party, but for the painful state in which I came. At least I’m not drunk anymore. But i repent and be destroyed. I look with tears in my eyes at the screen of my cell, the name of Jeff is there and just press the icon to call to end this. How could it have happened? How could I have made him the best boy he has ever known? Why did I even attend that party … without him? I cover my face with my hands and sob. There were many people who realized what happened. On Monday someone would tell Jeff, and i knew he had to know for me. He was going to send me to the devil, perhaps in such a kind way that it will make me feel worse. At no time in our long relationship has he manifested with me in a bad way, I have never had the voice, no matter how angry I was for the madness that I sometimes made, it was more than madness and even then I knew him well enough. Who will not even dare to tell me the word “bitch” to think about it, is another matter that I would never know.

I bit my lip hard. It was three o'clock in the morning, possibly I would be asleep. Later we were going to the movies and then to dinner, but I couldn’t look him in the eyes, I couldn’t go out with him, not after what I did. I always knew Jeff was the good of the two … and I didn’t deserve him. He didn’t deserve someone like me.

Finally I pressed the call button and while I waited for him to answer, I worked on reassurance.

“Y/N? Is everything okay? "His voice sounded sleepy but alert. Who would call in the wee hours of the night unless it was an emergency?

I closed my eyes, letting more tears drain away.

"No,” I whispered.

“Where are you? Did something happen to you?” I heard the squeak of his bed. Possibly sat or got up. I imagined him taking his jacket. He was able to drive to my house right now. A pang pierced my chest and I felt worse.

“I’m home,” I murmured.

“Then why are you calling me at this hour?” Another squeak. He sat down again.

“I …” I covered my mouth at the threat of another sob “I … I have to tell you something, Jeff”

It took a few seconds to respond.

“You’re worrying me, I can go to your house right now, just leave the window open”

I smiled through tears. It wouldn’t be the first time he would sneak into my room, possibly his most rebellious act, but only when my sadness and worry wouldn’t let me sleep, he would come in, we would lay on my bed and caress my arm while telling me some anecdote . He wouldn’t leave until I fell asleep, when I woke up I found a note, either on paper or on my phone. My smile was blurred again.

“Stay there, Jeff.” I couldn’t see him. “I did something very bad.” And I burst into tears. I couldn’t tell him, I couldn’t even want to break his heart, but neither did he deserve to stay with me, nor could I pretend that nothing had happened. I didn’t want to lose him, but that decision no longer belonged to me. He waited in silence “I can’t tell you what, but … I can let you go”

“What are you talking about?”

“Jeff …” I closed my eyes to say the following words: “I’m breaking up with you. You and I … we’re done”

“Y/N”

And I hung up, not giving time to his questions or his talks trying to blame himself for my decision so hurried. But it wasn’t his, it was mine. I couldn’t break his heart, not with the truth, but with the call, i knew that i had already done so. I dropped my phone and ran to my window to close it securely and run the curtains enough not to see a shadow. I would give him at least fifteen minutes for him to play in this one, i only had fifteen minutes to fall asleep or torment me with the nonstop touches Jeff would make.

A slap on my shoulder startled me back to the present. Liberty High at the time of changing classes and crowded aisles. I had been five minutes in front of one of the posters that announced the Dollar’s Valentine while remembering that soon it would be the dance, the first one that would go without a partner … Without my boyfriend. It had been two months since I ended my relationship with Jeff Atkins because of my actions and not being able to control myself with the drink. A few days later, he had learned the truth, what i had done, and finally he understood why my call at three in the morning. At present hardly and looked at me. We practically passed the other without talking to each other, not smiling at us and not looking at us, at least he didn’t, I would usually stop in the middle of the aisle and turn to see him leave, with the slight hope that he would return to do the same, But he never did and that hurt me a little more, just as guilt was growing.

I looked at Jessica who smiled at me and looked at the poster that had brought me a bad memory.

“Will you come in?” She asked.

“To our own campaign? Would that be fair? "I said in a muffled tone. The truth is that I didn’t want to find a list with future ideal couples. It’s to the benefit of our squad, but I was afraid to see five names and that none outside of Jeff, though that would not change at all.

"It would serve to set the example.” Jess smiled again. She knew my situation perfectly and didn’t waste a day trying to cheer me up.

“Will you come in?”

She snorted and rolled her eyes.

“You know I don’t need it”

Of course, she had a perfect relationship with her boyfriend Justin Foley.

“We’d better go,” I murmured, and without waiting for her, I began to walk. It remained in her if she followed me or took a different course.

After that awful slide that caused me the loss of someone important in my life, one of the best things that could happen to me, I decided to commit myself to raise my grades in high school. At home, they thought, having finished with my boyfriend had raised my notes, which was why Jeff had been classified as a distraction. Usually after school I went to the classroom to finish my homework or catch up with notes from a classmate; I was also motivated by the fact that I could observe Jeff in the distance, even working with Clay Jensen.

I left my things on a table far enough away from that pair and went to one of the shelves, I needed to get a history book that was worth it to do a rehearsal. I stopped to examine the titles in front of me, but in fact, I didn’t read them because I had a perfect panorama of the profile of my now ex-boyfriend. I couldn’t help it. Having done so because of my mistakes didn’t mean I didn’t love him anymore. Instead, every day, every second of my life, my love for him grew; When I saw his smile, when I saw him playing, or when I peered at him from my desk and I saw his reactions relieved when they gave him a task and the qualification was high. That’s my boy, committed and mending his mistakes instead of running away and hiding. He was the opposite of me. Besides, i wouldn’t find someone like him and wasn’t interested in doing that search. I only wanted him, even though now it was impossible.

I had it all with Jeff Atkins and my foolishness made me lose it. I should never have gone to that damn party. I should have driven in the opposite direction, direct to his house and help him in his work.

I felt my eyes fill with tears as I returned to the present. I took a book without bothering to read the title or not, the truth is that I had lost interest in doing homework on this site, I would take care of it at home. I looked at Jeff one last time to find that he held a paper in his hands. I narrowed my eyes at the decorations of the same one, the same ones that I had suggested when we were preparing the Dollar’s Valentine. Was he entering the game? I felt my heart break and however much I wanted to claim him, I had no right. He had moved on, just what I wanted, maybe find a girl much better than me. At least I thought, but my body took on a life of its own, went to the table, took her backpack and folder and left the classroom directly to the reception. I would buy my Dollar’s Valentine too.

I lost five dollars for five names. Jeff Atkins and I had few things in common, but at least enough to have him on my list and I show up in his. I filled out the form as fast as I could but being honest and deposited the money in front of my partner who smiled. Yes, I supported our campaign, but those had been my last five dollars to survive on the week. When I was handed the sheet, I doubted those results, four names I knew, one not really, but what puzzled me was that nowhere was the name of Jeff. This was really wrong, what kind of deception are we promoting?

“Sheri?”

She looked up at me with a smile. She was hoping to tell her the names that had been my list.

“From cheerleader to cheerleader. Did Jeff Atkins come by or did you give him his list?”

She laughed and shook her head. Yes, it seemed the typical ex who didn’t exceed the boy, and it was true, but if his name didn’t appear and I was honest in my answers, I even knew what he would answer, then it was possible that I imagined it with that sheet. No, my imagination had not been, I was sure.

“Jeff?” She mocked “No, not at all, and I doubt he does. You should know that, Y/N”

“I know. I just … I don’t know … "I looked at my sheet. Five dollars in the trash, I would run out of food to try something.

"Then you did it for him?”

I folded my sheet in half, it would look bad if I wrinkled it in front of her. This was our idea, which bad example would be giving, everyone would take it as it was a simple crap.

“I’ll see you at the dance”

I left the office and school as a soul that leads to the devil.

Dave held out his hand to me as he kindly opened the door to his car. I managed not to step on the dress with my favorite color that I had decided to wear at the Valentine’s Ball. I still questioned why i had agreed to come and especially with a date, product of the absurd list of Dollar’s Valentine that in the end had decided to take the floor, After all, if the boy was in the five chosen, then we had to have something in common, although the way here was absolutely silent, or it was my lack of motivation to try to move forward. I looked at the sidetracked boy as we walked to the entrance of the auditorium, he wasn’t even half of handsome that Jeff, in fact, what I thought, is that he didn’t get to the heels of my boy … my not boy.

I tried to put on my best smile as we walked through the doors. My arm recharged in Dave’s, how much falsehood in one scene. I had also turned out on the guy’s list, incredibly first, instead, on mine, turned out to be the third. I didn’t want to take the first one because it was one of my friends, it would only make it more uncomfortable. So I took the stranger, whom I probably decide to ignore after tonight.

“Do you want something to drink?” His voice caught my attention and I watched him blink. I hoped he hadn’t found me looking all over the place for that smile that fascinated me.

“Sure.” I replied with a smile.

Dave left and I sighed in relief, why didn’t I just decide to come myself? Why didn’t I just throw the list in the trash and get on with my life without five dollars less in my wallet? What’s more, why did I even come to a party full of lovers? For him? What if he didn’t come? What if he came with someone else? It made a knot in my stomach, as if I had not eaten all day and I moved from the place, forgetting for a few seconds, that my partner would look for me at any moment, but I had had enough of Dave, I hadn’t even attracted a bit.

I moved near the door, hiding behind balloons, I hadn’t seen him in the gym, so he may not have arrived. I remained there for at least ten minutes, until he appeared, with a girl hanging from his arm; A smiling blonde, as if she had waited for that opportunity all her life. And I recognized her, oh, of course I knew her; She is in my algebra class and I was also aware of the taste she had for who was my boyfriend, that was the main reason why she hated me or why she snorted and rolled her eyes every time I entered the classroom, Yes I’m still breathing, fool. And I felt doubly hurt. Jeff knew I couldn’t stand her either, the product of my jealousy, and had brought her to the dance, wanted to prove something? Did he imagine that I would introduce myself and see him? The blood began to boil, I left my hiding place and I avoided that my eyes were filled with tears. Now it was more my anger, of all the girls of Liberty High, had to be precisely she with whom he come.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N” Soon I had Dave by my side.

“I’m finished with this. Find someone who has come alone.” I didn’t even look at him when I left following that couple.

To have seen him with another, one that I didn’t approve of course, and that went against my good wishes for him to move on, made me understand, that i had been a complete idiot in having lost him and that i wanted to stay with him. I would somehow amend what I did, and that he would forgive me.

When I got to where they were, with my best smile I took him by the arm, he turned and his eyes widened, or he pretended quite well or really didn’t expect to see me here.

“Can we talk for a second?” I tried to hide the anger. The blonde took his other arm.

“Now he’s with me, pretty”

“You quiet you look prettier. Maybe you’ll catch something else.” I looked at her with superiority and she rolled her eyes “Jeff?”

He sighed.

“All right. I’ll be right back.“ He said to the blonde, oh, of course he wasn’t coming back.

I smiled at the girl, who, after making sure Jeff didn’t see her, showed me the middle finger.

"What?” He told me once that we were far enough away to speak without screaming.

“I don’t know … I just” I looked in the direction of where we had gone “Really, Jeff? Her?”

“Do you worry about me dating someone else? Isn’t it what you wanted, Y/N? I don’t understand you. She is a good girl”

I swallowed the mocking laugh I was about to take out.

“It’s what I want,” I said. “Or I wanted … I’m not sure anymore. I just … I realized that …” I squeezed my lips “I never asked you to forgive me for what I did” He looked away “I know I did you a lot of damage and I did to me too, but I guess I deserved it. I’m not going to tell you that it was just a kiss, because I know how important that is for you … for both”

Jeff finally looked at me.

“Why after two months, you come to the dance and you apologize to me?”

“Because I couldn’t remain at peace with myself, the guilt still follows me” I crossed my arms “I just needed to ask your forgiveness to understand that I must let you go. You can go with her now”

It hurt too much. My first intention to pull him away from that blonde was to retrieve it, but now, being alone, I remembered that ours was finally over, that there was a possibility that he would never forgive me and that I should go ahead, just what I too should be doing.

I watched as Jeff hesitated, looked back, wondering whether to go back or to go somewhere else, then he saw me again and smiled half-heartedly.

“Do you know how hard it‘s for me to date someone else?”

“I know, I also came with someone” I looked away “With whom perhaps I should apologize for having planted it right here” We both laughed and looked at each other until the laughter died “I don’t think I could be with someone else again” I bit my lip, maybe saying what was in my head would hurt me more, wasn’t it enough punishment? “Because you’re unique, Jeff Atkins, and I love you more and more”

He nodded. I understood in his gaze that he was debating what to say or do. In what was wrong or good. Forgive me? Was he considering it? In what category did he put it? Nerves were eating me, but I wasn’t ready to say goodbye forever.

“To hell with the past, Y/N. I love you, and maybe I’m making a mistake but I’ll find out in time”

“I’m never going to hurt you again, Jeff. Never again”

His hands settled on my cheeks. I let the tears emerge from my eyes as he bent to join his lips with mine. This promise was never going to break, and if it were, I would even take care of ceasing to exist in this world.

Masterlist

Will you two just get together already?- Kian Lawley imagine

Word Count:1054

Pairing: Kian Lawley/ Reader

Author’s Note: This is something I’m really excited to write about. I found it really cute and I hope you like it; I also wanted to place this in summer cause I miss it ,x.



Your name: submit What is this?

It was an average morning. The sun shining through the window it’s what woke me up.  I was really hungry. Without thinking of my roommates being around I walked into the kitchen. I was wearing a huge Metallica shirt with panties . Once I was in the kitchen, I saw Kian ,one of my housemates. 

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Letters From My Lovers: Taehyung

Author’s Note: happy birthday week @kpopfanfictrash <3 and to every tae girl i said i’d never be soft for
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader (oc; female)
Genre: fluff; angst
Summary: Away on a business trip, Taehyung thinks about how hotels personify your relationship
Rating: R
Warnings: implied sex; explicit language
Word Count: 1,549

Jimin | Taehyung | Jongin | Baekhyun | Jinyoung

2123

Monday, 2:08AM and I can’t sleep. Lights from the city keep pouring in from the windows and I keep trying to convince myself that I’m overstimulated - too pensive, too alive, too excited to be here. But, I’ve never been that good at lying, certainly not to myself. I hate everything about this room - from the beige paint to the buzz of the mini fridge - and I think it’s because you aren’t here with me. The cotton of the bed sheets is rough, feels like sandpaper against my skin though this, I suppose, is standard of all hotel rooms. Usually, I slide along the mattress to find your body and press myself against your softness. I warm my soul against you, finding comfort, finding serenity, finding you. Usually, you are here, but now I am alone and this…this hurts.

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anonymous asked:

Aloha 🙃 Keith and Lance for 10. or 4. Please?

Mwa hahaha YES an ask

Okay so I went with ten here we go on this half-finished log flume ride.


“Please don’t make me socialize.” Keith’s voice was muffled by the pillow he had hidden his face in.

“Come on, Keith, we just kicked the Galra out of an entire solar system.  If there was ever a time to celebrate, it’s now.” Lance tried to lean farther into the door, or somehow make it audible.  Anything to make Keith look up and see how cool he was being.

“Coran’s just going to get drunk again.  I still have nightmares.”

Lance burst into a fit of laughter and wondered how much nunvill it took to get a six-foot tall human teenager tipsy.  When he didn’t stop laughing his ass off in a matter of seconds, Keith finally peered out from behind his pillow.

“Are you drunk?”

“What?” Lance tried to get his hysteria under control and failed abysmally. “Drunk? No, of course not.  What do you take me for?”

“An idiot who thinks that just because he’s in space no one cares what he does.”

“Well of course no one ca-a-ares,” Lance sing-songed. “The rest of you have got better things to do.”

Well quiznak, thought Lance. There’s no way this ends well.

Keith dropped the pillow to his lap and stared at Lance with his eyebrows knit together.  He started tapping his fingers against his thigh, and the part of Lance’s brain that was still capable of 100% rational thought (it was a very small part) recognized his ‘worried’ tell.

“Better things to do?”

Quiznak.

“Yeah, man.  Like party! Come on!” Lance tried to roll off the door frame in some suave fashion and was utterly unsuccessful for two reasons.

Reason number one: The nunvill was evil and had robbed him of his balance.

Reason number two: Keith grabbed his sleeve and dragged him back to his bed to sit him down.

“That’s not what you meant, is it.”

“The heck man, of course it is.” Lance pulled his arm back and Keith let go reluctantly.  He looked pained.

“Lance, I have literally nothing better to do.” Lance tried to pinch his leg sneakily. “I care whether or not you get drunk off your ass.  I’m sitting here in my room because that party is loud as fuck, and you’re sitting here because you’re being an idiot.

“A silly, loveable idiot.”

What the cheese.

“Who I often want to hug and/or kiss if given the chance and your consent.”

Lance felt his cheeks heat up and he stole the pillow from Keith’s knees to try and hide it.

“Uh, I’m sorry.  Was this a bad idea? Is this awkward? I can get you back to your room if you want.”

They sat in an undecided silence for what felt like a very long time.

Lance took advantage of this to make up his mind.  His only half-functioning mind.

Option A was to pretend to pass out and get an excuse to go to bed, but that was right out.  That would be terribly embarrassing.

Option B was to yell “I’m bi and I love you too!” at the top of his lungs, which didn’t seem like such a bad idea really.

Option C was to kiss the mullet right there and then see was happened.

Oh what the hell.

Lance snapped his head up from his pillow, reached for Keith’s face with his hand and kissed him.  Very sloppily.

It turned out nunvill and romance didn’t really mix.

The five times you see Sam Wilson shirtless

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader

Warnings: A lot of feels.

A/N: Literally inspired in @bovaria​ “The five times you see Dean Winchester shirtless”. My birdman needed some love while I finish the semester and the ton of things I have to do, enjoy!


Originally posted by gweonteam

The first time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was when you were finishing your shower after training. He walked right past you –more like bumped into you—, with his earphones well-secured in his ears and his mouth moving—he was most probably lip-syncing to god knows what. He was sticky and sweaty, and as you fell together, you realized he had been training very hard. You were starstruck and your hands were still on his pecs; his lips were dangerously close to you and you were damn sure you had the funniest and dorkiest face ever.

“My god—I—I’m so sorry!” You babbled once you regained control of yourself and got up on your feet again and helped him up too.

“No, I’m sorry,” he said in a careless manner, “I was not looking and it was my fault. I’m Sam by the way, Sam Wilson…”

“Oh, you’re the new one. Steve’s friend,” you nodded, “it’s good to see you’re accustomed to be here, you’re making your way here and that’s good to see.”

“Well, this is not different from the army, except that I can actually wake up when I want to,” he chuckled, “by the way, you never told me your name.”

“I’m (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you reached out your hand to shake his, “I’ve been here with the team for a while now, I was from SHIELD,” you explained.

“I think I saw you… when agent Hill took us to that secret spot,” he narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember it. “You were one of the doctors taking care of us.”

“Yes!” You squealed. “I was indeed, it’s great to have you here as part of us; I’ve seen you in combat and… you’re impressive,” you admitted feeling your cheeks warming up and tainting with a hot pink flush. “Sam, I have to go, Natasha’s waiting for me upstairs. It was very nice to meet you,” you smiled.

“I’ll try to be less distracted when I walk around you,” he slyly said, “take care.”

The first time you see Sam Wilson shirtless, you made a fool of yourself but he didn’t seem to care.


The second time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was at one of Tony Stark’s parties. He was drunk, and golly you pitied him for the hangover he was bound to have the next morning. You were sitting with Natasha while the rest of the males tried to lift up the hammer.

“Oh come on girls!” Sam blurted. “Don’t you wanna know if you’re worthy?”

“No thank you, bird brain,” Natasha replied and turned her head to you, “stop staring at him or he’s gonna notice,” she took the bottle to her lips and smiled knowingly before drinking.

“Notice what exactly?” You rose an eyebrow.

“That you like him, you dork,” the redhead said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t like him,” partially true, “I just like to see him; he’s got some nice ass and a great front to look at,” you said. “Can’t blame a girl for liking those assets,” you shrugged and leaned your head on her shoulder. “What about you and Rogers?” You elbowed her. “That looks steamy, aw!” You teased.

“Yeah, don’t change the topic,” she teased back, “you like Wilson, and I like that; he’s a great guy and you deserve someone like him; you’ve stumbled into too many assholes in the time we’ve known each other—”

Out of a sudden, Tony started playing some random playlist on Spotify, and the first song was Ed Sheran’s “Shape of You”. You looked at Nat and you both started laughing at the two men approaching you; one was Sam and the other was Steve who was not as drunk as his friend. Natasha accepted without further argue; you on the other side, were a bit more reluctant to dance with him, especially when he was shirtless and you were drooling like a dog at Pavlov’s experiment.

“Come on, don’t say no to this song,” he held your hands; they were rough and a bit dry, but his grip was quite gentle, “and try not to say no to me too,” he added.

“Sam, go get dressed, dammit!” You scolded him. “You’re gonna catch a cold!”

“Bullshit,” he clicked his tongue, “now come on,” he tugged at your hands and you accepted to dance with him.

His hands, even though he was completely drunk, were still very respectful and you had to give him a point for that. You held on to his broad –and naked—shoulders and danced the night away. You two even kissed a few times as the songs played and the dancing became a bit heated, but he surely wouldn’t remember a thing of it.

The second time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was not required and probably the most uncomfortable thing ever, but the man had a body and you had functioning eyes, so why not?


The third time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was after a mission. He refused to let his shirt go but you threatened to hit him with some big ass dose of horse tranquilizer so you could rip the fabric away and he reluctantly obliged. You had seen it before, but this was the very first time you had such a close look at it. You could still see the marks of the suit all over his chest and back, some of the scars; the old and the new ones, and the laceration that was causing trouble.

“Sam, if you could please relax…” You sighed, putting on your gloves. “Just a few stitches and you’ll be just fine.”

“It’s not that, (Y/N)… It’s just that it’s the first time you’re voluntarily seeing me like this because I always go with someone else, but they’re all busy today,” he sheepishly admitted, “and we’re not drunk, or distracted,” he looked down at you and you felt a shiver running down your spine; his eyes had never been this fixed on you before it was surely making you a bit uncomfortable and very self-conscious.

“But not the first time I see you shirtless, so suck it up,” you replied in an unfriendly voice. “Sit down and turn around before that thing goes bad,” you ordered. It was the usual procedure: cleaning and clearing, sewing and covering the wound with bandages. Sam winced and tensed when you started the first part. “Sammy, I’m sorry but the sooner we get this over with, the better, okay?” He breathed out heavily and nodded. “Alright, here I go again,” you warned and started stitching him up. He endured the whole process stoically and he didn’t grunt not even once. You softly patted his shoulder to let him know that it was over. “Good boy, you deserve a lollipop,” you giggled, “I’m sure I must have a candy somewhere—”

“Uhh, (Y/N)?” He nervously asked. “I was wondering if you… I don’t know… maybe we could go out one day?” he scratched the back of his neck; needless to say, he hadn’t put on his shirt yet.

“Are you… Are you asking me out?” You asked, rolling all the dirty things you used into one great ball and heading for the trash can. You pursed your lips trying to hold back a childish and nervous titter.

“I mean—yeah, why not?”

“You promise there won’t be any nudity, alcohol or anything that’s not PG-13?” you folded your arms over your chest and rose your eyebrows. You wanted to say yes, of course, but he was not getting a positive answer so fast. “Sam, promise me that,” you urged him.

“Some old Disney movies are going to be played in the park one of these days, would that be okay with you? PG-13 enough?”

“That would be perfect,” you nodded happily. “I like peanut butter sandwiches more than popcorn, and I tend to speak a lot during movies, and if there are songs I know, which is really likely, you can be well damn sure I’m going to sing the hell out of them, so consider yourself warned. I’m the worst person to watch movies with,” you shrugged.

“Warned and taking the risk anyway, so stop putting me off and just go out with me, okay?” He chuckled, sliding down his chest the t-shirt that seemed a bit small, but perfect enough to hug him tightly and reveal his chiseled torso. It was the first time you saw him under such an attentive eye, and you were quite intrigued by the findings.

“You got it,” you breathily laughed, “I’ll write our date down so I don’t forget about it, you happy?”

The third time you see Sam Wilson shirtless got you a date.


The fourth time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was after a great night of sleep. You rolled to the other side to find him peacefully sleeping. He groaned and lazily started to stretch as he opened his eyes; he looked at you and smiled.

“What up, naked woman?” He giggled as he saw your uncovered torso; the night had been a long one and for a period it seemed sleepless, but you two run out of energies after some passionate love making and decided to go to sleep without any clothes at all.

“What up,” you replied in a whisper and leaning forward to peck his lips. “Did you have a good night?”

“The best one in years,” he yawned, “and you? Did I interrupt your night of sleep?”

“Not at all, Mr. Wilson,” you bit your bottom lip and snuggled closer.

Things had gotten official between you two the night before; Sam Wilson made the question publicly and you drank until very late with the rest of the team. You hadn’t been this happy in years, and Sam was doing everything in he could to keep you like that, but he didn’t need to try that hard, just being himself was enough.

It was the very first time you asked someone to move in with you, and even though Sam lived with you for a long time, you never invited him to the privacy of your own sanctuary. He had invited you to his room on countless occasions but it always ended up in the walk of shame.

“I just want you to know,” he said, placing a hand on your jaw to cup your face. He stroke gently your cheek, “that I’m really honored for this… I know you’re not the one to share your room,” his nose bumped with yours, “and I hope this is the first night together from many more to come, when we get a place on our own,”

“Is this getting serious, Sammy?” You chuckled. “Because if it is, you could might as well propose to me right now,” you pecked his lips and he helped you getting on top of him. “Oh, someone’s getting excited?” You bit your bottom lip and started rolling your hips gently. Sam pulled you closer for a heated kiss; it felt nice to have his skin so close to you again.

The fourth time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was the moment you realized you wanted to be with him for the rest of your life.


The fifth time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was on a mission; one that ended abruptly. He’s bleeding a lot and you’re damn sure he won’t make it. Steve’s carrying him in his arms back to the quinjet and you’re following his steps trying hard to keep yourself together. Natasha runs behind you, calling your name to please go back and help her, but Sam is everything you have in mind for now. You know you can’t abandon your job just like that, but you can’t abandon him either.

Steve placed him on the quinjet’s floor and started setting the medical equipment to keep him alive, but the wound was too profound and he was losing a hell lot of blood.

“(Y/N), you either go back and fight, or you’re useful here, but don’t stay there doing nothing,” Steve blurted, ripping you from your thoughts. You kneeled next to him trying to ignore the gushing blood coming out of Sam’s stomach.

You started cutting Sam’s shirt and Steve hurried to press some gauze onto the wound to stop the flow. You took some more fabric and pushed Steve’s hands away. “Don’t die on me, Sammy, don’t you dare,” you threatened, with your voice breaking and your hands shaking. “Sammy talk to me, now,” you cleaned your forehead with your arm while Steve changed the gauze.

“This is gonna leave some big ass scar,” a weak voice startled you. Sam tried to smile and so did you, but the laceration was too big and too scary to even fake. “You know what’s funny?” you shook your head, “I wanted to propose to you today… but I don’t think I can now,” he gulped and winced from the pain. “Steve…may I have a moment?” Steve nodded silently; he placed a heavy hand on your shoulder and squeezed it lightly. Then, with loud steps he got out to meet the rest of the team; the fight was fortunately won by the Avengers and they were all waiting for the diagnose on Wilson’s state. Steve’s face said it all. “I don’t have much time here, gorgeous,” he coughed, “so I’ll try to make it quick. You’re so—so fucking awesome and… I love you, just that…”

“Don’t say it as a goodbye, Wilson—you can’t do that! Not to me!”

“Kiss me as if it was the last time…” He teased. You leaned in to feel him one last time, trying to make his last minutes on earth the happiest ones. “You’ll be just fine without me, you’ve always been anyway,” he smiled lightly and sighed deeply. He slowly closed his eyes until you realized there was no life in that body.

“Sam… Sam, no. Dammit no!” You placed your hands on his chest to shake him, but there was no answer. Loud steps stopped just behind you and a warm hug took you away as you kicked and screamed to be put again next to Sam’s lifeless body. Thor was dragging you back and trying to keep your breaking self together.

The fifth time you see Sam Wilson shirtless was also the last one.

Never Have I Ever and Chill - Markson x Reader

Originally posted by tepangel


members: mark and jackson
rating: nc-17
genre: smut
word count: 3098

summary: you like to spoil the boys with relaxing, fun nights where they can let loose and forget about their busy schedules whenever you get the chance. you don’t expect it to turn into you and your boyfriend hooking up with his best friend. 

Keep reading

heart skipped a beat

pairing: lin-manuel miranda x reader

summary: you were too much.

words: 1,130

warnings: angst!, self-hatred/anxiety, swearing, alcohol

a/n: i listened to the song “heart skipped a beat” by the xx exactly 35 times last night and this terrible thing happened. not only is this my first fic ever published, but it’s also my first fic in english which is not my native language and that makes me too sensible of my defects not to think it probable that i may have committed many [grammatical] errors. honestly, i don’t even know why i’m posting this, since i have like 0.4 followers and no one will read it. i guess i just felt like sharing it somewhere.


please don’t say we’re done when i’m not finished.

“It’s over.” Lin declared briefly, not bothering to look up at you.

You stood there, blood rushing through your whole body, sending chills down your spine. Your brain stopped functioning for a second and you weren’t sure if it would work right ever again. You couldn’t believe he just said that. You thought he never would.

Keep reading

Silver Balls- Eisuke Ichinomiya (NSFW)

The story of an undrunken Eisuke getting controlled and commanded by his drunken girlfriend! This is my first smut on Tumblr, and I’m sure there’s some scope for improvement. Readers and followers, if you wish to suggest areas for improvement, feel free to message me! 😁


It was Christmas Eve, and the Penthouse was beautifully decorated, complete with the huge Christmas tree and gold and silver colored decorations. _____, boyfriend Eisuke and the other bidders were having a really good time with all the food and drinks……until….

She got horribly drunk, no sorry, was gotten horribly drunk by two huge criminals – Ota and Baba. She started swirling the champagne bottle, as her dopamine levels scooted high and higher; so high that she could not keep herself from stumbling and falling. After stumbling two times over the sofa and falling thrice on an extremely annoyed Eisuke, she sat quietly in her place.

“How dare you get her so drunk?!” Eisuke asked Ota and Baba furiously.

“Not our fault. You are the one who came late. Else you would’ve stopped her. Or maybe us.” Baba replied with a wink.

“Yesssss…..Eiiiiisukkeeeee, it’s…it’s not…their fault at….all…haha!!” she said, laughing a bit and taking another sip from the almost empty champagne bottle in her hand.

“Oh god _________! You’re terribly drunk, let’s go back to our suite.” He snatched the bottle from her hand while the others giggled.

“Nooooo Eisukeeeee pleaseeeeeee lemme drink some moreeeee….”

“Not at all! Cummon now!” he said sternly, trying to get her off the sofa.

Just the Ota’s phone rang. And that’s when the huge disaster of the evening took place.

All my friends are Heathens, take it slow….Wait for them to ask you who you know….

Please don’t make any sudden move; you don’t know the half of the abuse…”

 

The ringtone played on. Ota kept the phone aside, when _____ got up from her seat and started singing,

“Yes my man’s an asshole, takes it slowwww…..”

Eisuke stared at her, bewildered, body frozen, and eyes wide with shock. The other bidders looked more than amused at this.

“Woo hoo _______. That’s so nice! Keep going!!” Ota cheered while Baba and Mamoru laughed.

“Yes my man’s an asshole, takes it slowwww……

Wait for him to ask…me….where to fuck!

Please don’t make any s…s…sudden moooveee……

You don’t know….haha….he’s got nice balls too!” she sang, much to Eisuke’s dismay. He stood where he was mouth slightly agape.

“Oho Eisuke….the kid sings like…hella well!” Mamoru commented.

“I never knew she had it in her!” Soryu said, with a mischievous smirk which earned him an angry glare from Eisuke.

“_______, stop that please.” Eisuke said getting up and pulling her towards their suite.

“Naawwwww Eisuke, bad boyyyyyy!!!” she slurred and got away from him, moving back until she stumbled and hit the Christmas tree. Thank goodness she was drunk; else the tree would have been down upon her. But what happened now was the worst. Or the future best. The small force caused a few decoration balls to fall off the top of the tree and ____ managed to catch some of them. She started giggling, formulating more incoherent words for putting into the song.

“Yes my man’s an asshole takes it slowww…..

He’s got great balls like these silver balls….!” she sang, squeezing the balls in an absolute vulgar manner, causing the bidders to laugh even more; whereas Eisuke grew red. She continued taking that as a token of appreciation….

“Yes my man’s an asshole takes it sloww…..

He’s got great balls like these silver balls….!

He don’t care, what time it is, which room…..!

He once fucked me on the table toooo!!”

That was the end of it for Eisuke. Face redder than a tomato, he forcefully pulled _____ and dragged her towards their suite.

“Heyyy Eisukkkiiiieee lemmmee sinnggg….Eisukeee you asshole!!” she whined constantly and tried to escape his grasp.

“Cummon Eisuke let us hear her sweet voice.” Baba said grinning.

“Shut up! Just shut up, okay!!” Eisuke said, out of sheer embarrassment.

“Heyy cummon _______, tell us more about what he does.” Ota said.

“Oh yes….he once put a cheesecake on my….-“she started again, but Eisuke cut her off immediately.

“No ________, no! You aren’t going to say a word after this!” he shouted, opened the door and pushed her inside, hearing the amused laughs of the others as he did so.

“Yes Eisuke…you’re an asshole…!”

Eisuke sighed. It irritated him to have such vulgar things about him heard by others; more because they came from _____’s mouth. But ______ was certainly in mood for some fun. She pulled him by his tie and both of them fell back onto the bed.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, trying to get up and push her away. But she pulled him back against herself and started kissing his jaws and neck.

“____, please stop this and go to sleep.” Eisuke tried to stop her, but failed. She straddled his torso and started kissing his lips, her eyes showing a sense of roguery. Eisuke froze. Just what was happening? The hell was this drunken woman up to?! When did she become so damn bold?! And so utterly shameless?! His hands rested on her waist, temporarily allowing her advances; until his neurons got back into function. He started kissing her back, clearly tasting the remnants of champagne on her lips. _____ moved her hands up and down his chest, thighs and upper arms. He started pulling the zip of her dress when she smacked his hand.

“Ouch…”

“Bad boy, very….bad…boy…Eisuke!” she scolded and got off him. He tried to hold her back by her wrist but she shook him off anyways.

“What are you upto baby? You get me this hot and now you’re leaving?” he said, the annoyance apparent in his voice.

“Who said I was leaving, huh?” she replied stumbling a bit, but gaining balance. Before Eisuke could open his mouth to say anything further, quick as a flash, she took off her dress and threw it off in a random direction. Surprise for him. Eisuke-0, ____-1.

His literally stared at her, pupils dilated and mouth dry. And he would be lying if he said ‘he wasn’t thrilled’or ‘this is nothing!’ Never had _____ been so bold. If she had, then he’d definitely not seen it. But oh god, she did look sexy, so sexy that he wouldn’t mind chaining her to the bed and having his way with her; roughly.He looked like a hungry, horny wolf, which hadn’t mated since months and was seeing a potential mate for the first time. He propped himself up, ready to take off his own clothes, but she pushed him and straddled him once again. “Bad boys don’t get their candy….so soon!” she said, biting her lip seductively. She grinded her hips and he groaned.

“____, I swear stop it!” he growled in a low tone. This further amused the inebriated girl. She pulled Eisuke’s hands above his head and held them there, surprisingly with a lot of strength. Eisuke tried breaking the constraint so that he could teach his little vixen how to behave, but all in vain. She was stronger than he’d expected. This display of strength was new for him. He never knew a drunken woman could be this strong.

“____, do you know what effect doing this can have?” he asked, raising a brow. He was trying his best to be patient. He didn’t want to have rough sex with her in a drunken state. But this goddamned woman was driving him crazy; he doubted if he could further contain the hungry inner beast.

“I’ve know ya for quite sometime ‘suke. And I just know what all you can do!” she cooed, with a smirk. Unzipping his trousers, she pulled them down, along with his expensive black Emporio Armani boxers, revealing something far more precious- his heated erection.

“Looks like someone’s yearning for  friction…..” ____ said, licking her lips. Eisuke gulped as the remaining blood from his head, rushed downwards. He was caught in a spell, a sexy spell that she had cast on him. She flicked his erection.

“Ow heck!” he almost shouted. _____ giggled. “Please don’t do that….it hurts…”

She did it once again, harder this time. “Fuck!” he shouted, “Stop it you damn woman!” She laughed wickedly. Eisuke Ichinomiya was under he control tonight. So were his Silver Balls. She finally released his wrists and pulled his trousers and boxer off his legs. Eisuke looked at her, secretly anticipating her next move. She looked into his eyes and slid herself down his body, until her face came in contact with his cock.She gave it one slick lick.

“Ahhh….”Eisuke groaned lightly. She slowly took his entire cock into her mouth and started sucking on it.

“Oh -fuck……!” he moaned, kicking his right leg hard. Despite of how cold, narcissistic and oblivious he appeared on the outside, he hated to admit, he was sensitive down there. And _____ was driving him crazy. She was his personal Achilles’ heel. She was the only one who could make him vulnerable; while being so vulnerable herself.

“Ah…ah…._________! Oh god please!” he moaned, running one his hands through ________’s hair.

She smiled. He was helpless and she’d made him like that! It was good to see Eisuke Ichinomiya lose control once a while. She redoubled her efforts and sucked harder.

“Fuckkk…….” he growled. Eisuke’s hands were now free but he couldn’t even move. His head was buried into the pillow and his eyes rolled back into his brain. She had brought out the most vulnerable, sensitive and weak him. Someone whom the others won’t ever believe to be Eisuke Ichinomiya.

“________….I’m there, I’m t-there!” he roughly breathed out. And ______ stopped her caresses. Just as he was about to cum.

“What…..why?” he asked, his eyes holding an expression of longing in them.

“Bad boy Eisuke, you have to admit some things today.” she said, winking at him.

Eisuke furrowed his brows. Him? Admitting things? As if…..

“Me?” he questioned.

“Yes baby boy. YOU.” she said, “Firstly, admit it that you….are…an…asshole.

“What? NEVER!” he said defiantly. She took his cock out of her mouth and looked up at him, batting her eyelashes.

“_____ no fair. Don’t stop please!” he begged.

“Admit it then.”

“No! No! Never!” he said, with a smirk.

“No? Really?” she said, kissing his balls, blatantly paying no attention to his erect member, which desperately needed friction.His smirk immediately disappeared. Eisuke was too tired, too embarrassed to stroke himself. Rather, he was still in shock, as far as her boldness was concerned. He wanted this. He wanted this badly. Wanted to reach his high. He wanted her body. Setting aside all his pride, for the first and perhaps the last time, he said, “Yes _____, yes. I admit that I’m an asshole.”

She smiled and started sucking him again as a reward. He gave out a satisfied moan.

“Number two. Admit it that you are…actually…liking this!” she said

“Yes! Yes! I like this! I like this so damn much!” he moaned.

“Third, admit it that you consider each and every inch of yourself as mine”

“Ah….ah….yes…oh _______, Yes!” he shouted, nearing his high again.

“Now beg for it.”, _____ said, sucking harder.

“I…ah….d-don’t just beg….oh!” he said, moaning in reflex.

“So you won’t eh?” she said coyly and sucked him the hardest she could.

“Fuck yes! Aahhh….I want you please! _____, I want y-you so bad!” he almost screamed in pleasure. That was it for Eisuke. He couldn’t take anymore of the teasing. THIS was what he did to ______ everytime. He made her beg. He made her moan and writhe helplessly. He made her scream in desperation and ecstasy. But today, that privilege was not on his cards. He was under her control.

______ left Eisuke’s cock and straddled him once again. He opened his eyes and looked into hers, wondering why she’d stopped inspite of him having put up with her demands. She let her lips find his while he hugged her flush to his still clothed chest.

“Take me”, she asserted.

She was willing to give herself to him. She was being incredibly susceptible, inspite of knowing Eisuke could punish her in the worst way. That was LOVE for Eisuke. He kissed her and shifted her to his side, opening his shirt buttons whilst never taking it off. Positioning his hardness at her wet entrance, he slowly pushed in. Spooning was something Eisuke had never tried. But heck, it felt amazing! Eisuke’s thrusts were short, yet passionate. His face buried in the crook of ______’s neck.

“Suki….suki….ahhhh….Eisuke! I’m close!” she screamed.

“Ah baby, I’m close too”, Eisuke moaned along. Every time his cock entered her, it made a weird and erotic squelching sound, which added to their combined arousals.

“Eisuke…please!!! I’m cumming!”

“Hah…wait for me baby..ah!”

“Ahh no, I c-can’t take it E-Eisuke, please!”

“Yes baby…..”

“Suki…EISUKE!!”, _____ screamed loudly as she came.

“Fuck _____!!”, Eisuke groaned into her ears as his orgasm shook his core, his hips coming to a steady halt after the final few thrusts. Finally, coming so hard was worth every bit of the teasing! Both of them tried to catch their breaths as their arousal seeped out of _____.

“Eisuke, baby are you okay?” she asked as she turned to face him.

“Yeah” he managed to say through his harsh pants, “that was amazing ____!”

_____ blushed a bit.

“Seems that her high is wearing out”, thought Eisuke.

“I love you Eisuke”, ____ said, giving him small pecks across his jaws and collarbones. Eisuke propped himself on his elbows and took off his blazer and shirt, both of which were horribly creased and drenched with sweat. ____ pulled the comforter on their warm bodies. Today had been amazing for both of them. Eisuke pulled her flush against himself, enjoying the soft feeling of her body.

“I admit one more thing _____. I’m madly in love with you. You make me behave like a horny bastard there, I so damn love you.”, he said, his cheeks flushing a light shade of red. ____ smiled as sleep overcame her. Eisuke continued stroking her hair even after she’d slept. She had been so bold today. Heck, if he’d only recorded everything; she’d definitely forget it all in the morning and wouldn’t believe him! But then, it was a good thing to tease her about. All thanks to Ota’s ringtone and the guys who got her drunk. Sneaky bastards. Eisuke chuckled a bit as he remembered some of the lyrics of what ____ sang.

“How senseless!”, he thought. Thank goodness he stopped her in time, else she would’ve definitely blurted out the entire cheesecake incident to those guys.

“You’d better be ready for a punishment sweetheart, for getting drunk and calling me an asshole, for making me admit embarrassing things, for speaking too much in front of the guys and for stripping me off my pride.”

But, that was all for some other time. Right now, Eisuke focused his gaze  on her contented face. It was one in  a million, and he’d never give her up. For anyone. For anything.


Voicemails

She sat on the sofa watching something that she had no interest in when her phone rang from the armrest. She peered at the phone, eyebrows furrowing once she saw the caller I.D.

It was him – Harry.

She didn’t want to pick the phone up so she waited til the call ended.It felt like minutes although it was seconds,realistically.

She didn’t pick up the phone because she didn’t know how to talk to him, she didn’t want to hear his voice.

Ever since their break- up,she avoided everything Harry related, whether it be his song on the radio or him appearing on her social media dash.She did attempt to listen to ‘Sign Of The Times’ but after he first sang ’just stop your crying’, she turned it off.

It hurt. It hurt to hear his voice when she hadn’t heard him in so long. It hurt to hear the voice of the man she gave her heart to; a man she dreamt of being the father of her children.

But it was a couple of months back when she tried.Maybe things had changed and she was finally over him.She wouldn’t know that though, not if she didn’t try.

The documentary she had no interest in, was officially forgotten as she began to contemplate on whether or not to call him back.She didn’t.

-

[Message received]

1 voicemail in your inbox.Dial 1 to listen to them now.

-

She was about to listen to it until her phone rang.The call ended.He rang her several more times,though she didn’t pick up.

So she waited until there were no more calls.

-

[Message received]

6 voicemails in your inbox.Dial 1 to listen to them now.

-

She dialled 1.

-

“Hey it’s me Harry. ‘M only saying my name in case you’ve deleted m’ number.Wouldnt be surprised if you did,I’d have done the same if it was me…Actually I don’t think I would have.Love you too much to do tha’ ”

“I wouldn’t be calling you,I shouldn’t but ‘m drunk and I miss you.I don’t drink tha’ much anymore cos of work yet here I am…Drunk of m’ arse,” Harry let out a bitter laugh. “Maybe I’ll regret it in the morning but I don’t care right now.I - “

“Stupid phone cut me offl.Why aren’t you picking up?Are you avoiding me?”

“I fucked up love.Fucked up big time.I brought a girl to our - I mean m’ house. ‘t feels weird sayin’ tha’.’S even more weird to call it a home when it doesn’t feel like it.Mum always used to say ‘home is where the heart it’..Think she took tha’ off of the internet.You kno’ how she is,”A small chuckle left his mouth at the thought of his mother and her antics.”But yeah,I brought her home and kissed her. ‘S all we did.I promise.Only kissed her that on’ time though cos it felt wrong.”

“I don’t kno’ what’s wrong with me, ‘s like I can’t function without you.I always used to think tha’ feeling you get when the person you love is gone,was a myth but I guess I never fell in love with someone the way I did with you.”

“I need you baby.I fucking need you.I can’t go to sleep peacefully anymore cos whenever I shut my eyes,all I see is you. ‘S the same with writing; all I do is write about you.About how things have changed.About how I messed up.”

-

She thought he stopped calling.

But then her phone rang once more.

Without glancing at the device,she prayed that it wasn’t him.She was scared of what’d he say,that what he’d say would have her crying her eyes out (though she was close to tears already).

The call ended.

She tried as best as she could to distract herself.But the temptation of listening to the voicemail fought back.

It fought back quite hard.

So she had no choice but to listen to it.

“What have you done?” A strangled scream was heard.”What have you done to me,” she heard a thud; he must have fallen to the floor. “Why?Why did you pretend that everything was okay if you were just going to leave me?I didn’t mean it baby,I swear..Why does this hurt so bad?” Sobs began to leave his mouth as the voicemail ended.

She closed her eyes, it hurt her to hear him cry.However, when she closed her eyes, she could imagine how he looked in his current state.

He’d be on the floor,sobs escaping his mouth like there’s no tomorrow.His throat would begin to hurt yet he’d continue to cry.He’d be in a fetal position,like he’d be protecting himself from harm….It was too late.

Being drunk and emotional….Not such a great idea.

A Brief Recap of My Vacation Thus Far

- Yesterday, we accidentally took the wrong route and ended up on The Bad Bridge, everyone was panicked and our travel time was increased by an hour

- We still somehow made it here before the rest of my family. I get so much shit but honestly? None of us are capable of being on time

- There was a guy innocently dancing at a gas station, my grandmother called him a ‘nut’ and he heard and started laughing with us. This innocent interaction somehow sparked into a 30 minute race debate where I was told “It’s bad to be PC. You’re being too PC.” All I did was say “Hey, maybe don’t refer to non-white strangers as 'foreigners’”. Help me.

- My Grandmother, like, completely unprompted, started denying the fact that the world has a growing population that’s a bit of an issue??? Still confused

- I forgot. To pack. My headphones.

- My mother peer pressured me into drinking at dinner (omfg the waitress asked me if I had an id and literally before I could move to pull it out she goes 'who am I kidding, I can’t fucking see it unless you hold it all the way over the ocean). Despite my usually high tolerance, I hadn’t eaten all day so while I wasn’t acting drunk or tipsy I could not make my legs function properly rip

- I came home and slept for like six hours before my mother’s monstrous snoring woke me up at 2 am. Was never able to recover. I’m so tired rn

- The whole family, in true form, spent the morning ignoring me and then left for the beach without me. It took me over an hour to dredge up enough willpower to walk there myself

- I had to leave through the garage, in which you have to walk through the Hillbilly Murder Showers and struggle with The Very Small Yet Astoundingly Heavy Door. Despite pressing the button a total of six times, it still had to be essentially pried open

- This lead me to under the Boardwalk, which was covered with orange construction cones and had a huge gaping hole with Very Worrying Noises emerging from it, new feature this year. I almost took it as an omen to head back but trekked on anyway, managing to not fall into the hole.

- My family was found under a flag for the country of Montserrat, a place none of us have even heard of, but apparently my cousin kept getting emails that he had been promoted to the general of their military, and found the flag on complete coincidence and thought it fate. There was also an Eagles flag, because we are quite literally never allowed to forget that this is a Philly Family™

-  My mother learned the hard way that you’re supposed to Goddamn rub in the spray on sunscreen

- My hair got caught in my sunglasses so badly we almost had to consider using scissors to cut them out

- The Moon Was Apparently Out, But Only Eileen Can See It For Some Reason

- My younger cousins have a profound misunderstanding of what an undertow is

- The water was so rough today it was alarming tbh like HUGE waves hitting in the shallows, I was getting a little worried

- Even though alcohol has like, never been allowed on the beach, this year they apparently decided to Care About The Rules, so police officers were milling about. My family decided the best, least suspicious way to hide the beer was solo cups.

- I ate my weight in resses cups because I literally have no concept of self control

- Every time I pulled out my book, Jenna popped up going “did you know that movie sucked?”. She wouldn’t stop. I was there for three hours and barely made it to chapter 2

- Me, stuffing my face with cheese and sliced ham “idk veganism sounds kinda neat”

- My cousins three month old baby was there and my mom had to keep this child in her sight at all times like she was so convinced something was gonna Happen

- Also, the baby’s grandmother was holding her while she napped and she went on this little tangent to my mom like “My mother taught me how to put a baby to sleep-” like she kept going on in this nostalgic tone about her mother and finally mom was like “Kathy we’re literally sisters and mom is sitting right there you don’t have to do this no one cares”

- Megan took a nap and her seven year old woke her up to ask her where his shirt was and she got. UNREASONABLY mad at him. The whole 'God forbid I can rest I do everything’ spiel but like. Megan. Megan. You were asleep for like two hours. He’s seven. Megan he’s literally a baby he can’t exactly be independent all the time.

- Seanie came over and was sitting on the big wheel of the wagon next to me so I asked him what he was doing and he went “Well, apparently I can’t sit in a chair without people annoying me” and gave me a VERY pointed look so I just went back to my book so as to not invoke a 12 year old’s wrath

- Can I just say: Seagulls need to stay THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME

- I cowered in fear most of the day

- A man with a chair strapped to his back and very dark sunglasses wandered into our site, head tilted toward the sky and arms out in front of him, wobbling and almost fell into multiple holes my cousin’s dug. He didn’t seem to notice us as we called out to him, and eventually tumbled out of our site and plopped his chair down some ways away, which he collapsed into. The Elders and The Youngins’ were convinced he was blind and was whispering amongst themselves, if he’s blind where’s his cane? Why’s he here alone? Is he really blind. To which one relative finally quipped “Well, I’m sure some alcohol can MAKE you blind” and I was cracking up tbh like how HADNT they smelled the booze coming off him when he passed by?

- Danny, 12 years old, sitting calmly in the sun, drinking a large mason jar of pickle juice. When I politely asked him what the fuck, he turned and held eye contact with me for a solid three minutes, still drinking the pickle juice.

- When you’re scared about getting arrested for drinking a bottle of beer but someone can apparently start Blazing It™ feet away from the police with no repercussions

- Also…random observation but all the police officers, firemen, and various other In Charge people I’ve encountered down here over the years seem to be younger than me? Why is this place being run by 18 year olds?

- Intense debate about why there’s been so little promotion for Sharknado 5, airing this Sunday.

- Holy SHIT okay so I started leaving the beach right

- I’m having trouble trekking through the thick sand. My hair looks like a literal nest, I am unevenly pale and tan, a chair and bag are threatening to knock me over in the winds- basically I look outside like the mess I’ve always been inside.

- AND THIS FUCKING

-THIS FUCKING GREEK GOD OF A LIFEGUARD

- YOUNG, FIT, SHIRTLESS, BLINDING SMILE, EFFORTLESS HAIR, LITERALLY THE MOST FLAWLESS TAN I HAVE EVER SEEN

- HE FUCKING PULLS UP TO ME IN HIS SAND ROVER

- REMEMBER I LOOK LIKE A HERMIT CRAB THAT JUST EMERGED FROM THE SEWERS HERE

- AND HE JUST CHEERFULLY CALLS “MOLLY! HOP IN, I’LL GIVE YOU A RIDE!”

- HOW

- THE

- FUCK

- HOW DOES THIS GORGEOUS ENTITY KNOW MY NAME? WHY WOULD THIS IMMORTAL BEAUTY CHOOSE TO ASSOCIATE WITH ME.

- He said “Molly” one more time and I’m not kidding or exaggerating. I felt my name in his voice IN MY UTERUS.

- We did not speak the entire ride, but he somehow knew pretty much exactly where to drop me off and told me to have a great day before rovering off into the fucking sunset

- I am still so SHOOK right now who was this man????? I know for a fact I’ve never met him before so HOW DID HE KNOW MY NAME. Why did fate bring us together when I looked so authentically me???? Who is pulling these strings I Would Like A Word With Them

- I need to lie down it’s been far too long since I was this attracted to a person idk what to do goodnight

Barnes’ Books - chapter 10

I’m sorry. That’s all I’m going to say…

Barnes’ Books masterlist


I wasn’t well, that was true, and so that day I wasn’t up to thinking about Bucky or wondering why he’d come. After he left, I fell asleep again, a much healthier sleep. I’d eaten, drunk, washed, changed. I’d been cared for. It had been a long time since that happened.

I woke up the next morning to a soft warm body curled against mine. It had been a long time since that had happened too. I moved slightly, and the body moved with me. Then it climbed out from under the duvet and stalked off, tail in the air. Can’t have everything. I got out of bed gingerly, expecting to feel terrible, but I didn’t. Not great, but OK. Hungry, a little headachy, but human.  

I followed Steve into the kitchen, to find everything clean, laundered bedding folded on the side, dishes put away. Tidier than I’d left it for a long time. I felt a hot flush of shame at the thought that Bucky had seen how I’d been living. The depression I’d sunk into would leave me staring at dirty crockery, empty wine bottles, unwashed clothes, then just turning away, unable to even begin to deal with anything. While I’d been sleeping, Bucky had obviously been in and taken over. Even as I felt embarrassed, I felt a weight lift from me, that I could start afresh.

Keep reading

Take care of her – Jeff Atkins x Reader

Summary: This happens after Jeff’s death and before Hannah’s suicide. Let’s say, a week after the car accident. Jeff and the reader had been dating for about a year.

I listened to this song while writing the one shot.

Reader’s point of view.

Words: 1737

Your name: submit What is this?

I looked again at the clock of that gray and dull reception. I hit the heel of my shoe against the ground, desperate to get out of here. I had class, moreover, I needed to keep my mind occupied, before anxiety absorbed my body. I took deep breaths as I concentrated on people coming and going. No one dared to glance at me, not even the receptionist. I sighed and looked down at my fingers.

“I’m glad you’re here. Come to my office”

"You quoted me here, Mr. Porter,” I mumbled as I grabbed my backpack and followed. It’s not like I had any other choice. The receptionist had only looked at me when she went after me during the history class.

“Take a seat.” Mr. Porter pointed as he closed the door and walked to his place. I obeyed and dropped my backpack “I found out that you left the squadron”

I shrugged.

“So?” It was nothing to be alarmed about in that way. Mr. Porter smiled, but without any joy.

“It surprises me. According to your colleagues, you enjoyed this activity”

"No more.” I looked away. I had been engaged for the last forty-eight hours in forgetting the moment when I gave up my uniform. Jessica and Sheri insisted that I shouldn’t.

“This week you have continued to do your work, but your teachers have noticed your isolation.” I looked back at the man and sighed “What is going on in your mind, Y/N?”

I let out a bitter laugh.

“Seriously? Are you really asking me that, Mr Porter? ”

“I want to help you, Y/N. It has been difficult to lose someone important, I understand, what happened to Mr. Atkins was a misfortune, but you have to learn the lesson of this …”

"He wasn’t drunk, okay ?! I’m really tired of hearing everyone say the opposite, the teachers wanting to show us a fucking lesson for something they didn’t witness. "I was really annoyed to hear their judgments.” I was the last person I spoke to him, ten minutes before that damn accident. He wasn’t drunk “

"Y/N”

“And I neither wasn’t, if that’s what’s going on in your head, Mr. Porter, I have road education. Moreover, I ‘m not the only one who can testify against such judgments and their moral teachings; Clay Jensen was there with us”

I leaned back in the chair and covered my mouth. I didn’t have to be discussing this with the counselor, I cared little that he tried to help me, I just wanted to occupy my mind in other things, I reserved the nights to think about Jeff and immerse myself in my own agony. I squeezed my eyelids avoiding tears.

"You’re going through a duel, Y/N, and I’m here to help you”

“Listen, I thank you for trying, but no, I don’t want to be helped, just treat me as if I were invisible, like the rest of my classmates out of simple pity. I have to go to class”

"There must be something you want and your spirits up.” Mr. Porter stopped me with those words. I snorted and looked at him.

“All I want now is Jeff Atkins, healthy and happy. And neither can you achieve it”

I grabbed my backpack and hurried out of there. The emptiness in my chest was beginning to make itself felt, and I couldn’t bear to break myself in the face of idiots who would only turn to see me out of curiosity, not because they intended to help me.

The corridors were empty, the first period wasn’t over, I would have to see myself in the annoying need to ask for the notes and task of history, my mood was not fit to return to the room. I wandered through the corridors, aimlessly, unconsciously; I reached the row of lockers, where his was, adorned with his photo and thousands of notes. I felt a lump in my throat. Jeff Atkins was a good guy, someone who cared about uploading his grades, practicing baseball, and getting a college scholarship he had taken this fall. My class is the same as Clay Jensen, so I just should have survived this hell a bit more without Jeff. We had so much plans, I didn’t know if I could follow them by my own foot. Alone. I stopped in front of his locker, my eyes on his, happy, just as I remembered them and that smile that I loved so much. The tears began to come out of my eyes. I ignored the notes that left him, had too many that some were already on others. I took my post it from my backpack and with a random pen scrawled some simple words that he knew them. "You are the love of my life, always will be” I placed the note next to his photo, covering another and I allowed to close my eyes. I remembered the times that surprised him here; I imagined his smile and the moment he put his arm around my shoulders to leave.

“I need you” I whispered.

The bell of the end of the period startled me. I wiped my tears before the first door opened and I walked away from the locker without looking back. Many noticed that I was there; I could feel their eyes behind me, because that is what they had been doing for a week, nobody dared to meet my eyes. I arrived in silence at the communication room. My eyes on the floor, I heard Zach and Justin calling me but I just smiled in their direction, not looking up. I settled at the last table, just in front of those paper bags. I had a few little notes that I refused to take out of my bag, I knew they would be condolences. I fixed my eyes on my notebook.

The class passed in a debate about the prudence in front of the steering wheel, when were they going to surpass that subject? My ears burned just to hear the words car and accident in the same sentence. Several looked at me sideways, hardly anyone dared mention Jeff.

“Excuse me, Professor; Mr. Porter wants to see Clay Jensen in his office”

I quickly looked up at the receptionist whose name I didn’t know, it had to be new or something. My stomach contracted, wouldn’t it? Why Clay was going to go with Mr. Porter? Damn! Clay looked hesitant as he grabbed his backpack. Everyone was silent, I was the only one frozen, by a demon, me and my mouth. When Jensen left the room, the discussion resumed. But I no longer listened to the words, my heart was racing, my hands began to sweat, my ears buzzed, I couldn’t allow this. I knew the relationship between Jeff and Clay, he was also very affected. He was the one who found it. He called the police. He was the one who warned me and held me when I collapsed on the pavement as I recognized Jeff’s car.

“I don’t feel well” I exploded interrupting the class. My breath was starting to fail, I grabbed my backpack, held my chest with my arm, and it started to hurt a lot. As I made my way out, I heard murmurs.

“I heard she’s pregnant, poor Jeff Jr.” I recognized Justin’s voice but what made me turn around was the little laughs.

I looked at them angrily, although I had a cordial relationship with all of them, I had never cared. My eyes collided with the only person who didn’t seem to be amused by this attempt at a joke. Hannah Baker smiled at me, not with joy, but rather wanting to support me, give me strength. I couldn’t return the gesture and left the classroom. I ran down the aisles, hoping to get there before Clay finished in Mr. Porter’s office. Luckily I found him before he went through the doors.

“Jensen!” I screamed with the force my lungs allowed me. He stopped and looked at me in surprise, we had not talked since the funeral.

I slowed my pace and he cut the distance between us. I took a breath.

“I know why he called you,” I said shortly. He waited in silence. “This morning he wanted to talk to me, I was exasperated and I ended up telling him that you also knew that Jeff wasn’t drunk”

He raised his eyebrows. I noticed his gaze darken; however,i hadn’t found any shine these last days.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. He started to leave but almost immediately stopped and turned to see me “There is something else you have to know, Y/N”

My heart stopped for a few seconds. Clay pulled something out of his wallet, a crumpled and stained paper.

“When I found Jeff, there was a note in his hand.” He unfolded it in front of me, my stomach churning as I realized that those spots were my boyfriend’s dried blood.

But the words finally broke me.

“Whatever … Take care of her … Y/N Y / L” The last letters of my surname were barely visible. I took the paper with shaking hands and my eyes clouded.

“He still had the strength to write that.” Clay’s voice sounded broken but calm. “I know how much he loved you, I tried to get close to you, but you didn’t let me in. I didn’t know how to tell you about this”

I looked at him, no matter whether he saw me crying or someone coming out of a room and finding us. I just didn’t care.

"Can I … can I …?”

“Sure.” He pointed to the paper. It was just what I wanted. Stick with the last thing Jeff had written. That made me love him more.

“Ah, Mr. Jensen, Miss Y/L, I hope I can talk to you both.” Mr. Porter stared at mine, waiting for me to run away, but this time I let myself be taken by Clay.

My mind wandered in a Jeff with his last heartbeat writing the same note that now posed in my hands and that had become my main treasure.