are you aware of what you are doing to me is this amusing to you

Aliens Vs Menstrual

Re-posting this so folks actually see the damn thing.

Please forgive the length… the plot bunny got away from me… very far away from me…


There was blood on the floor.

Avrex blinked and stared at the red droplets on the floor. More red caught xer eye. There was more just under the edge of the seat. As if someone had tried to wipe it up but hadn’t thought to get under the very edge. Only one species on board had red blood.

This had to belong to one of the humans.

But why would blood be here in waste room of all places? Granted, humans were an odd breed, and used the waste rooms for more than the elimination of waste. Some even installed mirrors and extra lights and spent an hour or more in there! But blood? Why here? And why on the waste reclaimer lid? Surely if one of the humans was injured they would go to the infirmary….

…wouldn’t they?

Avrex shook xer scaled head and stalked out of the waste room. Xey would get to the bottom of this.


The humans had been hired three months prior. Two at first. Then another two a month later. And a fifth one a month after that. They were extremely useful, and didn’t really take up much space.

Hunting down any of said humans was a challenge.

Three of the humans were mechanics, and could be found shimmying their slender bodies between various components of the ship to reach the part they desired to work on. Even with an extra set of large eyes, Avrex would often walk right by the little beings, missing their little oil and grease smeared bodies in amongst the equally oil and grease smeared engine components. At a hulking ten feet tall, Avrex often missed the little monsters because they were under something or other.

The massive first officer dismissed the mechanics as a viable first target for questions. Searching through the entrails of the ship for crew members that xey may or may not find was not an effective use of xer energy or time. Xey could always catch the mechanics at the designated meal time if the other two humans couldn’t answer xer questions satisfactorily.

The fourth human was no easier to find. He was a security guard, and could be anywhere on the ship at any given time. Despite the fact that he wasn’t a mechanic, he seemed to share their proclivity for climbing on things, and for crawling into spaces that were inaccessible to most of the rest of the crew.

That left Carl.

Avrex made xer ponderous way down to the metallurgy lab. The human designated as Carl was not like the others. He was much older. The kind, gentle being had been the first human the ship had taken on, and had paved the way for the four other humans that followed. The others respected him greatly, turning to him for wisdom and advice. Surely Carl would have some insight into why there was human blood in the waste room.

Carl was right where he was supposed to be.

Avrex pressed the alert button and patiently waited to be granted entry just outside the lab doors. The request was swiftly answered, the doors sliding open with a soft hiss to admit the ship’s first officer.

Carl had put his work station into a safe position, and turned in his seat to give the hulking alien from Jarrok his full and undivided attention. Avrex had always liked that about Carl. While the human ability to multi-task often came in useful, it was sometimes disconcerting to hold a conversation with a being that never once even glanced in xer general direction while they spoke.

Carl smiled as he stripped of his protective gear. “Avrex. What brings you down here?”

The first officer assumed a parade rest position. “I have a query about human behavior, and had hoped that you could explain.”

The human chuckled and ran a hand through his graying hair. “Well, I’ll do my best. Go on and fire away.”

Avrex paused, then decided to ignore the odd turn of phrase. Experience had shown that large amounts of time were wasted when human parlance was questioned. “I discovered a small amount of blood in one of the communal waste rooms. I am aware that humans use waste rooms for more than their intended purpose, but I am at a loss as to what form of task could take place in a waste room, and possessed the potential to cause injury. The blood was red, thus it can be safely assumed that such belonged to one of the humans on board. But none of the humans have sought out medical aid. If one of my crew is injured in any capacity, as first officer I am entitled to know, so that I may account for such injuries when drawing up the duty roster for the coming cycles.”

The elderly male frowned thoughtfully. “There are a couple things it might be. But I’m not going to stir up panic by picking the wrong one. Which waste room was it you found the blood?”

Feeling dread curdle in xer gut, Avrex gave him the correct room number.

Carl nodded. “Melanie was supposed to be working up near that sector. More’n likely it’s her blood you found. Come on, I’ll walk up with you and help straighten this mess out.” Avrex started to protest. Surely xey could manage without taking Carl away from his work if given the pertinent information. The elderly human shook his head in seeming amusement. “Trust me Avrex, it’s better if I go along. If this is what I think it is, you’d just end up with a very angry or hurt mechanic on your hands.”

The first officer shut xer maw, frilled ears pinned back against the sides of xer head. What could possibly be going on that would result in a human being injured or angry?

Xey walked back down to the correct deck with Carl, deciding to wait and see. If what Xey had heard from other ships was true, an angry human was something to be avoided if at all possible.


Despite the consistent trouble the rest of the crew had in locating the mechanics while about their work in the engines, Carl seemed to have no problem tracking down the correct human.

At his call, she crawled out of a space so tight Avrex wasn’t sure xey could’ve gotten a paw in.

The second human the ship had taken on, Melanie had been hired barely a week after Carl. She was by far the smallest of the humans, and the quietest. Her peers took shameless advantage of her small size, leaving work in the tightest spaces to her. She didn’t seem to mind, preferring to work alone rather than with her group as most humans were purported to do. In fact, with the exception of Carl she seemed to avoid all of her kind for the most part.

The raven haired female flashed her teeth in the odd threat gesture that humans insisted denoted welcome, amusement, or joy.

Melanie wiped her hand on a rag and stuck it out to Carl for a traditional human greeting. “Hey Carl. Did one of your do-dads break down again?”

“Not this time dear.” Carl assured. “The first officer swung by with a question, and it seemed you’d be most likely to have the answer. Seems Avrex swung by the restroom and found human blood on the floor. Any chance you’d know something about that?”

Melanie paled.

The elder human nodded and patted her shoulder, seeming to have derived his answer from her silence. “It’s alright dear, no need to worry. I was married for thirty-five years before cancer took my sweet Belle, and she and I raised six beautiful daughters. There isn’t a thing under the sun I haven’t seen, and I’ve made more trips to the store for feminine things than I could probably count! Do you need any help, or do you have everything in order?”

The young female slowly relaxed at his kindly manner. She shook her head, asserting that she had ‘it’ covered. Avrex shifted xer weight, subtly drawing the humans’ attention back to xer question.

“You’re the only woman on board, Mel. Would you like to explain? Or would you rather I did?”

Melanie’s cheeks started to change color underneath the grease. “I can do it.”

Carl seemed pleased by the answer. “Go get ‘em then. And if you need anything, you go ahead and ask me or Cal. That’s the lad over in security, in case you didn’t know. Lord knows he’s young, but he won’t give you any grief if you need something and can’t get it yourself.”

Calling a farewell, Carl patted Avrex on the shoulder and headed back to his lab, leaving the massive reptilian being towering over the tiny female.

Avrex slowly squatted down as low as xey could manage in an attempt to put her at ease. Xer experience with humans was still somewhat limited, but observation had shown that humans tended to be slightly intimidated by a difference in height.

Her cheeks were changing color again. Looking down, the human female mumbled something at the floor.

Avrex cocked xer head. “Could you repeat that more clearly please?”

Melanie seemed to gather her courage and finally looked the massive officer in the larger pair of xer four amber colored eyes.

“I’m on my period.” The admission made, she seemed to lose some of her discomfort. “It started a few hours ago while I was up in the machinery. I had to climb down and run to the rest roo-damnit, waste room to clean myself up. I’m sorry about the blood, I’ll be more careful in future.”

Avrex cocked xer head. “I do not understand. I was under the impression that ‘period’ is a form of punctuation denoting the end of a sentence. How then, can you be ‘on’ it?”

She stared at xem for a long moment, eyes widening as she slowly seemed to realize that xey genuinely had no idea what she was talking about. “Ok. Um… the word ‘period’ also means a length of time. Human females use the word as slang to talk about a specific time. It’s… God, I can’t believe I’m giving an alien the talk. Ok, so basically…”

Avrex listened in growing astonishment as the little female described a process by which one of her internal organs partially deconstructed itself once a month unless she put it to use in forming a baby. If she was to be believed, it happened once a month from approximately age eleven to age forty to fifty. Admittedly, compared to the amount of blood in the human body the amount lost during one of the episodes she described was relatively small. But, she explained that other fluids were expelled as well, along with pieces of the organ that was shredding and rebuilding itself. The entire process took place approximately every three to four weeks.

Avrex shook xer head. “Shouldn’t such a process be painful?”

Melanie shrugged. “Well yeah. I know some women who stay in bed the entire time they’re on because it hurts so bad.”

The first officer reared back in alarm. “Are you in pain?!”

Another shrug. “My uterus is shredding it’s inner lining because I’m not knocked up with a baby. Yes, I hurt.”

Avrex had to work hard not to snap xer teeth in xer anger on Melanie’s behalf. “If human females require bed-rest while experiencing one of these ‘periods’, why are you not in bed? Surely if you explained the situation to the medical officer he would have given you medical leave. We do not require a crew member to return to active duty immediately after surgery, surely an internal organ coming apart cannot be so different!”

Melanie laughed. Laughed!

The little human caught xer hand and gave it a squeeze. “I said some humans Avrex. Some. Most don’t experience severe pain. If it gets bad, it means that more than likely something else is wrong. Most of us wear special liners in our clothes or inserted into our bodies to catch the blood so we don’t get it all over the place. And we just go on with our daily routine. Grin and bear it. We’ll be alright.”

The first officer wasn’t convinced. “At least tell me that you have spoken to the medical officer about something to relieve the pain.”

She shook her head, holding up a hand to forestall xer protests. “Some women do. I don’t like using pain medication for something I can tough out. Humans have this thing, where we can slowly build up an immunity to certain drugs through prolonged use. I avoid pain medication so I don’t build up an immunity. That way, when I do need it I know it works really well. As soon as I realize my period is starting, I start drinking more water. The human body is about sixty percent water, and making sure that I’m properly hydrated speeds up the process and makes it hurt less. Instead of dealing with it for six to seven days, it only lasts three to four. Seriously Avrex, I’m fine, and I’ve got a handle on the rest of the symptoms. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Avrex felt as if xer head was spinning. “Other symptoms?”

The human bared her teeth in another smile. “Most of us get moody because our hormone level fluctuate a bit. It hits every woman a bit differently. Some women turn into a weepy mess. Me? I turn into a grouchy, irritable, cow who avoids everyone like the plague. Other women will get angry at the drop of a hat and bite the head off the nearest individual that annoys her.” She must’ve seen the look of shock and horror on xer face because she immediately backtracked. “Shit, not literally! I mean they just get overly aggressive, usually verbally.”

She waited for a second, to make sure xey understood, then went on.

“Aside from the moodiness it’s a grab bag of ways your period will affect you. Some people get cravings, some people get back pain, or their breasts”, she put her hands illustratively on the soft mounds on her chest to be sure that there wasn’t any miscommunication between them about what ‘breasts’ were, “get sore. Most of us get cramps in our lower abdomens right about here.” Again the illustrative touch, this time to a spot just below her belt. “Some of us have an increased sex drive, while others just want to roll themselves up in a blanket like a burrito, and a lot of us are fatigued. Every woman’s different.”

Avrex slowly shook xer head, completely dumbfounded by the sudden influx of information. “Is…is there anything you currently require? I know that Carl already asked, and you informed him that you were sufficiently prepared, but…”

Her face softened. “I’m fine Avrex. Really. I just…”

“Hey! Melanie! You gonna keep up with the men today, or are you gonna have a tea party with the dinosaur all day?”

Avrex almost responded.

Almost.

Instead, xey remained stationary, watching as a strange change came over the female before xem. Where before she had been timid and shy, at the sudden derogatory call from the newest of the five humans, a male named Dave, her face suddenly became calm and smooth as granite.

She slowly turned and cast a threatening, and yes Avrex was sure that this smile was definitely a threat, at Dave and the other male mechanic Josh. Josh had been the fourth human taken on, hired within days of Cal the security guard.

As Dave was the one who’d spoken, Melanie seemed to focus most of her attention on him. “Care to run that by me again smart mouth?”

Josh, older and more mature than Dave, seemed to understand the unspoken warning. “Dave…”

The younger human ignored him. “Ooh, someone woke up on the bitchy side of the bed this morning. What’s a matter sweet cheeks?” He made an expression that Avrex would later learn was called a leer. The male grabbed her by the arm. “Maybe you just need a little action to settle you down, yeah? How ‘bout it babe? I bet I can get that stick out of your ass. Hm? Maybe put something better…”

A large wrench whistled through the air and stopped within a micron’s breadth of the young human’s nose. It was easily the length of the male’s forearm, and had previously been occupying a loop on Melanie’s belt. He stared at it, cross eyed and pale, then looked at the diminutive little female who could’ve easily broken his nose if she’d had less control.

“What’s a matter?” She parroted the question back, voice tight and dark. “What’s a matter is that I started my day in a fountain of my own blood, and that’s how you’re going to end yours if you ever call me ‘sweet cheeks’, ‘babe’, or any other cutesy nickname again. And as for keeping up with you ‘men’, I’m already three days ahead of schedule. You’ve barely been on this ship a month and you’re already two weeks behind. So I’d say it’s you who aught to be keeping up with me, because it seems anything you can do I can do better and faster while bleeding.” Her dark eyes narrowed. “And lastly? If you ever lay hands on me again? I promise you, they will never find your body.”

She slid the wrench back into her belt, cast a respectful nod to Avrex, and calmly crawled back up into the machinery.

Dave stared after her for a long moment, then pointed. “Josh! Did you see what that bitch just…”

The older male cuffed him over the back of the head. “You’re an idiot. Never piss off something that bleeds for seven days a month and doesn’t die. I haven’t got to know her all that well yet, but Mel is worth ten of you. That woman works her ass off. If you ever go after her again, and she doesn’t kill you, you can bet that I will happily beat you black and blue!”

Avrex bared xer teeth, allowing a tiny warning growl to rumble deep inside xer barrel chest. The reptilian first officer slowly stood to xer full ten foot height, looming over the miscreant. “Consider yourself warned.”


An additional talk with Carl yielded a few ‘pearls of wisdom’ concerning ‘feminine’ needs.

With the thunderstruck captain’s blessing, Avrex ordered small metal receptacles installed in each of the public waste rooms on board at their next stop. Carl had suggested small boxes, but given the frequency of meteor showers and pirate attacks, evasive maneuvers were engaged fairly often. Avrex thought it better to have the receptacles affixed to the wall and a basic bolt lock placed on the lid so that the ‘feminine’ supplies wouldn’t be thrown around the waste rooms when the ship had to duck or roll suddenly.

Upon having the situation explained, the other alien members of the crew who hadn’t been released for shore leave were more than happy to help. They liked Melanie, and the discovery that she spent a week in pain each month and gave no outward sign was disconcerting to say the least.

Other changes included stain proof bedding, a heating pad, a new fluffy blanket, and a few earth sweets being slipped into her room.


Dave, the human who had harassed her, was not invited back to the ship.

Instead he was replaced with a male creylight from the Andromeda system. While not as small as the humans, he was still flexible enough to reach most of the components without taking a piece of the engine apart, and he was much stronger. The humans wouldn’t have to drag the lifting equipment out as often.

He was also made aware of how his predecessor had been fired for his disrespectful, inappropriate, and frankly downright threatening behavior towards Melanie.

The crew was not going to tolerate such treatment towards their favorite human.


Melanie nearly burst xer ear drums with her grateful calls upon returning from shore leave and discovering what xey had done.

She had been dreading coming back to work and having to deal with Dave. And then to find out he’d been fired, and to see what ‘sweethearts’ the rest of the crew had been…

As xey crouched down to receive the strongest ‘hug’ the little human could muster, Avrex couldn’t help but marvel at the change in her attitude. While she still treated Josh a little coolly, Melanie seemed much less guarded than she had before. She made friends with Cal, and Carl, and slowly started to get to know Josh. She was more outgoing while socializing with the rest of the crew. The timidity faded, an air of preparedness that the crew hadn’t even realized was there fell away. Leaving her relaxed and free. For the first time since she’d boarded the ship, she seemed truly happy.

She felt safe.

And Avrex couldn’t help but feel both saddened and enraged at how surprised she seemed that they would go out of their way to make her feel safe and comfortable. That she was so used to relying on no one but herself. So used to being stepped on and living in fear of the male half of her species taking advantage of her.

No more.

Avrex took care of xer crew.

That Really Happened (M)

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 2,864

Summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends since you were little kids, but it turns out that the games you used to play together have different results as adults.

Keep reading

⇁ through the flames (and into the lava)

Originally posted by kookielife

pairing⇁Jungkook x Reader

genre⇁smut, fluff, slight humor, crack || dragon!jk, fantasy!au i guess

warnings⇁public indecency, dry humping, fingering, non-penetrative sex, cumplay, i’m sorry

word count⇁7.8k

Your boyfriend is a dragon.

Or so he claims.

or; the perks (and unexpected complications) of dating a fucking dragon

Keep reading

All The Times You Slept In Bucky's Bed

Summary: In which you’re tired (literally and figuratively) of Bucky waking you up every night with his nightmares so you take matters into your own hands.

Bucky X Reader

Warning: Smut and Fluff

Words: 4,004

A/N: First reader insert fic that I decided to do for @marvelous-fvcks writing challenge. I had prompt 18 “God, I am too tired for this.”- I’m addicted to reader insert fics now. Expect more in the future.

_____

The first time you slept in Bucky’s bed you had gone three days without much sleep. Your bedroom was right next to his so every noise he made woke you up. It just so happened his consistent nightmares caused him to yell and moan in his sleep which in turn woke you up.

You groaned, head pounding as rest was stolen from you and rolled over. Your eyes found the bright red glow of the alarm clock. You allowed for your eyes to adjust before reading the numbers and groaned once more. 2:36am

You sat up, head aching with the motion, limbs protesting as the desire to remain in bed was overwhelming. You stared longly at your pillow contemplating if you should just give in and go back to sleep and deal with Bucky tomorrow when another cry tore through the air.

“Oh for fucks sakes,” you muttered standing up.

You left your room and found yourself in front of Bucky’s doorway. You knocked, three short raps, before opening it.

“Bucky it’s me.”

He didn’t hear you though, oblivious to the world as he thrashed around the bed. His eyes were screwed up tight, his expression the pinnacle of pain. His hands were clutched in his sheets, twist and tearing the fabric with the strength of his grip.

You cautiously walked over to him, aware he was the Winter Soldier and he might lash out in a moment of disarray. You grabbed his shoulders and shook.

“Bucky wake up.” He didn’t seem to hear you, his whimpering echoing in the room.

You shook him harder and spoke louder. “Bucky wake up!”

He gasped his eyes flying open, the gray hues flying wildly around the room until they stopped on your face. It was like he couldn’t see you and was staring through you. His eyes focused and with it came a ripple of confusion followed by the dawn of realization.

“Y/N s-sorry. Did I wake you?” You never heard him speak with such dubiety before, as if he was uncertain of himself. You breathed in heavily, your ire of interrupted sleep fading. This was not the Bucky you saw during the daytime. That Bucky was somebody who carried himself with a sense of pridefulness and attitude.

This Bucky was a broken and scared man. This was the man who had been tortured by Hydra into becoming a shell. An empty shell for them to forge and utilization. Even tho his form was huge; laying in bed coated in perspiration, his eyes wide and afraid, his limbs trembling, he looked like a small and feeble child.

You let out a breath and motioned at him with your hands. “Scoot over.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m getting in bed with you,” You said simply. His eyes widened almost comically and he started sputtering. Definitely not the Bucky you knew during the daytime.
He made no movement though, so you huffed impatiently, eyes traveling to the ceiling as if in a silent appeal, “God, I am too tired for this.

You climbed into his bed and begin nudging him over. Eventually, he got the hint and scooted, allowing you enough room to lay down beside him and throw your arms over his chest.

“What are you-”

You cut him off, shushing him as your fingers found his temple and began a slight massage, “My Ma used to do this for me when I had nightmares. Just relax and go back to sleep.”

It took awhile for his tense body to start to slacken under you and before long his snores are echoing around the room. You let your hands fall and began to stand up from the bed when his body jerked and he let out a sharp hiss. Already the nightmares are starting up once more for him.

You sank back down on the bed and threw your arms around him. In turn, His arms unconsciously came around you too, gripping you tight as if you’re the anchor to the real world that he desperately needed. The whimpering and shivering ceased again and you realized he’s not going to last long unless he’s holding onto something.

Too tired to care you shifted your position to a more comfortable one and closed your eyes. Sleep cane quick and easy to you laying in Bucky’s arms and if you weren’t so exhausted you might have wondered why. But instead, you drifted and slept well into the next day, wrapped up in Bucky’s arms.
____


The second time you sleep in Bucky’s bed it was the next night. You were up late in your room, filling out paperwork that you had been neglecting for Fury and his nagging was reaching the annoying stage so you sat down in your room at 3pm and kept working well past sunset.

It was nearly midnight when you heard the first strained cry coming from the room next to you. You froze, cocking your head to the side to hear better almost convinced that maybe you just imagined it.

But no; he cried out again and you sighed. You stood, cracking your back in the process, and make your way to his room.

Bucky thrashed around violently this time, a stark contrast from last night. You hesitated, unsure on how exactly to approach him without getting hit or kicked from his flailing limbs. After a few seconds of trying to figure it out, you threw caution to the wind and advanced forward.

“Bucky,” you called out but he didn’t hear. His face contorted in agony and a scream made his way up from his throat; muffled only by his clenched teeth. You stepped forward and called out to him louder this time but just like the night before he didn’t hear you.

‘He’s going to hurt himself,’ you thought and stepped up to the edge of his bed. You leaned forward, bracing yourself on one knee and grabbed his shoulder

“Bucky wake up,” you said, your voice louder than normal as you shook him.

Unlike last night he doesn’t wake up gently. This time he sprung forward, grabbed you, and threw you onto the bed; trapping you beneath him. One hand found itself wrapped around your neck squeezing but not too tightly that you couldn’t breathe. The other hand is pinning both of your wrists above your head.

You let out a shaky breath, “Bucky it’s Y/N.”

You were calm on the outside but on the inside, your heart hammered against your rib cage at a mile a minute. Your brain was a tornado of thoughts, mapping out ways for you to get out of this should the need arise.

He stared at you, his eyes glowing in the moonlight. His eyes didn’t register your existence again just like the night before. He’s still trapped in his nightmare and his brain hasn’t caught up with his consciousness yet. Slowly though the dullness around his pupils ceases and awareness trickles forth as reality settles in.

“Y/N?” He questioned, his grip slacked on your neck and wrist.

“Good morning sunshine,” you grinned, hiding the fact that you were unnerved by his aggression. You slipped your hands from under his and cupped them together, rubbing where he held them in an effort to return the feeling to your extremities.

He jumped off of you, almost like a violent flinch. “Oh God Y/N I’m so sorry I-I didn’t mean-”

You cut him off with a wave of your hand and sat up. “Don’t worry about it. You didn’t hurt me.”

He stared at you in disbelief, raking his eyes over your body as if he didn’t trust you and you were hiding some debilitating injury he caused.

You ignored him instead and moved over on the bed to give him enough room to lay down. You patted the bed and grinned at him. He gave you a dubious look and you patted again, firmer this time, encouraging him to join you. Still looking uncertain and a bit confused, he slid under the covers next to you.

You laid down next to him and repeated what you did last night. It took him a little longer than the previous time for your ministrations to relax him and put him to sleep. No doubt he was unnerved by his attack on you.

But soon his frame relaxes and his breath deepens as sleep overcomes him. This time you don’t bother to get out of the bed, instead opting to roll over and fall asleep next to him.
_____


The third time you slept in Bucky’s bed he invited you to.

You raised a delicate eyebrow as he corned you the next night, moving you away from the ears and eyes of everyone else.

His face was flushed a bright red extending down his neck judging by the hue you saw when he pulled at his collar. He wrung his hands together and looked everywhere but you.

“You uh… the past few nights… in my bed,” He tripped over his words, awkwardness filling the every being in his body, which amused you because he reminds you of a pubescent boy attempting to talk to a girl for the first time and not the super soldier trained assassin.

You wondered if he was going to ask you why. Did he think you were in love with him? Was he in love with you and the bed-sharing was sending him mixed signals? Was he not and it was upsetting?

He was still stumbling over his words- God he sounded like Steve- and you were growing impatient wanting him to get to the point.

“Barnes,” you said firmly and he finally stopped long enough to look at you.

“Can you sleep with me again tonight,” he blurted out, his face turning a deeper shade of red, “Because when you’re sleeping next to me for some reason I don’t have any nightmares. It’s just that I swear, I’m not trying to get into your pants. I just feel it would mutually beneficial because neither of us is getting any sleep since my nightmares wake you up and this seems to help. Nothing sexual, I promise. Not that you aren’t attractive enough because you are an incredibly gorgeous-”

“Okay,” you calmly cut off his rambling.

“-Woman… what?” He looked shocked as if he wasn’t expecting that answer.

“Okay,” you repeated.

“Wait, really?”

“Yes.”

He breathes out a breath of air and runs his fingers through his hair. “Okay. Alright good. Thank you. For this. I’ll make it up to you somehow. Maybe I can get you some food? What do you like? Pizza? Ice cream? Or would you prefer something more practical like clothes or gun or-”

“Barnes.” You cut him off again.

He chuckles awkwardly, “Right going now.”

He walked past you and joined Steve and Sam at the other side of the room. You followed his every movement, pondering on why you’ve seen a different side of Bucky three times now. This fills your head with unanswered questions.

Maybe he is in love with you. Maybe you just saw him at his most vulnerable and he is not used to that so you tripped him up. Maybe the Bucky you see daily is a mask to hide the fragile mess Hydra left him in. Maybe it’s all of the above or not at all.

You’re burning with questions but the answers don’t matter.

And so that night you crawled into Bucky’s bed before the nightmares have even begun and position yourself next to his body letting sleep wash over you.
_____

It’s been several weeks since you started sleeping in Bucky’s bed, so on the 27th night, you find yourself walking into his room after a mission automatically. Your joints are aching and you’re pretty sure your body is one big massive bruise.

You’re dead on your feet and all you want to do is sleep. You peel off your clothes, shedding all but your shirt and panties before climbing into his bed.

You don’t even consider the implications of sleeping in your underwear next to a man. But Bucky does and that night he doesn’t sleep his eyes glued to your dips and curves.

Every sigh you make sends a pool of want and need to his lower abdomen. And so he spends the entire night awake fighting an internal battle within himself.

When the first signs of light protrude over the horizon he practically sprints out of bed and spends the rest of the day in the gym working off his frustrations.
____

The 28th time you sleep in Bucky’s bed he’s getting back at you for what you put him through. You had realized of course when you woke up and saw you weren’t wearing pants. You felt bad for the guy but in your defense, you barely knew how to say your name let alone the implication of sleeping in the bed with a man in nothing but your panties. (And a little part of you wonders why it was so automatic to do that)

Still, that night you make sure to wear appropriate attire but it seems Bucky is not ready to forgive you. He’s dressed in only his boxers and nothing else.

You gulp, eyes roaming all over his body. He smirked when he noticed this before patting the bed next to him. “What’s a matter, doll?”

He’s teasing you and you know it. Your breath shuddered as you carefully climbed in next to him and laid down far enough apart that he can’t touch you but close enough that you feel his body heat.

That didn’t seem to be the end of it tho because he turned onto his side and slung his arm over your body.

His fingers brushed against the exposed skin above your pant line, sending a jolt of electricity dancing across your skin. Your senses burst into overdrive and suddenly you’re aware of Bucky.

How his body molds perfectly to yours. The heat radiating off his skin. His breath on the back of your neck making your hair stand on edge.

Everything in you screamed to take him then and there, but you will your breath to even out and your heart to stop slamming in your chest.

Even still, that night you don’t get any sleep.
____

The next night you both called a truce and slept in shirts and shorts and as far away from each other as possible. Still, the sexual tension remains and it bleeds out of the bedroom and into daily life.

When you’re on missions, training, or even just relaxing the want and need is thick in the air between you two. So much so that the others have started a betting pool to see how long you’ll last. (You pretended not to notice how they conveniently leave an empty space next to him at the dinner table for you to sit that. Or how they’re all suddenly too busy to go on missions with him and volunteer you to go instead.)

It isn’t until the 76th night of sleeping in Bucky’s bed that anything happens. That night Tony had hosted a gala and after one too many drinks you found yourself dancing with Bucky and neither of you can keep your hands off each other.
By the time you leave the gala the want and need in your lower abdomen has grown so considerably you barely make it to the elevator before you crashed your lips into him.

He gripped your thighs and pulled you up to wrap your legs around his waist. The elevator opened and he carried you to his room not breaking the feverish kiss between you two.

You made it to his room before he slammed you against his door and attacked your neck. Hands are roaming everywhere between you two. One of his slipped passed the slit in your dress and found itself rubbing your underwear making you moan.

“You’re fucking soak,” he growled.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while now,” you confessed and rolled your hips against him. He growled again from the stimulation and carried you to the bed.
Both of your clothes are off before you even know what’s going on and he’s trailing a path of kisses from your chin, down your neck, between your breasts, past your navel, and to your thigh.

You gasped feeling his mouth attack the bundle of nerves you desperately wanted him to touch. Your body is like fire, burning with desire. Your hands fly to his hair when he sticks in two digits and curls them.

“God- fuck,” you can’t even find the words to say. The heat grows in your lower abdomen and with a cry you’re falling over the edge.

When you come down you find him kissing you again, whispering praises to you. You wrapped your legs around his waist again and grind against him, the feeling of longing and want throbbing in your lower abdomen.

“Please Bucky,” you whisper to him and with a kiss, he enters you.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. It’s like all your senses have been dialed to a thousand. It’s like a supernova exploding in your mind. You’ve had sex before but this is different.

A part of your brain whispers to you wondering why.

But it silences as you feel the heat growing again and you cum with a cry. Bucky follows shortly after, his forehead pressed against yours, his fingers entwined with yours too.

He rolled off and cleaned you off, before settling down next to you. This time you’re both wrapped in each other’s arms and you fall asleep, feeling his lips pressing against the top of your head.
____

The next morning your brain asks why again while you’re watching him make breakfast (and ignoring the exchanging of money between hands from the rest of the group).

It hits you like a train. You’re in love with him. It’s obvious now that you think about it and you wondered why you never saw it before.

But you keep it to yourself.

Until the 149th night of sleeping in Bucky’s bed. He’s injured on a mission and in the med bay and you refused to leave his side. Instead of going back to his room, you climb into the hospital bed next to him and wrap your arms around him.

“What are you doing, the bed would be more comfortable,” he asks.

“I can’t sleep without you there,” you answer.

“Why,” he chuckles.

You hide your face into his neck. “Because I love you, you idiot.”

Silence.

And then. “Look at me.”

You shake your head.

“Look at me, doll. Please, Y/N,” he pleads.

You hesitate before lifting your head to look at him. Your heart nearly stops at the look of pure happiness and adoration on his face. It takes your breath away.

“You love me?” He whispers, stunned as if he can’t believe it.

You nod your head. “I realized it the night of Tony’s gala.”

“That was so long ago!”

You frown and feel heat creep up to your face. “I… uh didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Y/N, I love you too,” he says. You let out a breath, feeling tears of happiness spring forth before you crush your lips to his. You want to ask him how long and when did he realize but you’re interrupted by Dr. Cho coming into the room and yelling at you for making out with her patient.
____

It isn’t until the 365th night of sleeping in Bucky’s bed that you finally have your answer.

He wakes you up at midnight kissing your shoulders and nudging you with his nose.

“Wake up doll,” he whispers against your skin.

“Mmm Bucky what time is it,” you yawn.

“It’s midnight.”

“Why are you waking me up at midnight?”

He straddles your back and lays down, engulfing you in warm. “Because I couldn’t wait to wish you a Happy Anniversary.”

This catches you by surprise and causes you to laugh. “Bucky it’s not our Anniversary.”

“Yes it is, wanna know why?”

“Hmm” you ask closing your eyes again.

“Because a year ago today I was woken up from a nightmare by this girl who I thought was an angel at first. She was so beautiful. And then she crawled in bed with me and I was absolutely positive I had died right there and this was heaven. Right then and there was the moment I knew I was I love with you.” He shifts his body and brings his hand up to your face.

“At that moment I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me Y/N L/N?”

Your eyes shoot open and in front of your face in his hand is a ring. Your eyes are wide as if hardly daring to believe. Your brain has ceased to work, too stunned to remember how to breathe.

You pivot your body and sit up, “Oh my god Bucky.”

The tears start to flow from your face as what can only be described as pure joy is bursting through you.

You manage to nod your head and choke out a small “yes” before he’s holding you and kissing you.

The ring is slipped on your finger and suddenly you picked up and spun around both of you shouting in happiness. The draws the attention of everyone else who bursts in through your door.

“What’s with all the noise,” Steve asks.


You can’t even manage the words and Bucky isn’t paying them any attention, looking at you in his arms. Instead of saying it you hold up your hand with the ring on it.

A beat.

“Oh my god Y/N!” It’s Natasha that’s first to react and she’s hugging both of you. The rest of the others follow suit congratulating both of you. Champagne is brought out and you’re all celebrating your engagement.

That night nobody gets any sleep.
___

The 730th night of sleeping in Bucky’s bed, it becomes your bed too.
___
The 1,647th night of sleeping in Bucky’s bed is the first night you awake without him there.

Your heart clenches in agony and you sit up, your eyes burning with unshed tears. Your chest is heavy with brokenness and simultaneously you feel hollow and alone.

Your hand finds the spot on the bed where Bucky’s body is supposed to be but it’s empty and cold. He hasn’t been there in a while.

You get out of bed and make your way next door to your old room which you haven’t used in a while. When you open the door your heart stops hammering upon seeing Bucky in the far end of the room.

You moved to him promptly and when you reached him, you put your arms around his chest and laid your head on his back.

His hand came up and cupped yours. “Everything okay doll?”

“Yeah, I just had a nightmare about you,” you muttered against his back.

“What about?”

“I don’t remember now,” you stated, the fear of the nightmare alleviating as you took in Bucky’s scent and warmth and touch.

“What are you doing in here baby,” you ask. He shifts and turns around and kisses your forehead.

“Daydreaming.” He answers.

“About what,” returning one of his kisses. He moves down your chin and neck.

“The future,” he says kneeling in front of you and kissing your swollen belly. “With you and our baby.”

“You’re daydreaming in the nursery when you could be dreaming in bed,” you chuckled. Your hands thread through his hair and he leans into the touch, eyelids fluttering closed.

“Come back to bed baby. We won’t get a full night sleep ever again for the next 18 years. We should relish in it now,” you say and he laughs, following you back to his bedroom.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too.”

Five Times Tony Stark Was a Good Dad (And One Time He Wasn’t)

So, I’m obsessed with the whole idea that Peter is Tony’s unofficial son and it’s only supported by Tony’s appearance in Spider-Man Homecoming, so I came up with this series, which is in the works and also posted on my AO3 account. If you like it or have any suggestions as to where I should take this, please don’t hesitate to let me know! Also, forgive any spelling errors or mistakes, I finished this at three in the morning one night and I was too lazy to go back and fix them. Enjoy!

Read Part 2 here

~~~~~~

Tony swore when he was twelve years old that he would never be a father. He remembered that moment clearly, like it had just happened a day ago, not well over thirty years ago. He was in his room, his father still screaming in a drunken rage at his mother over something Tony did, his anger and disappointment following Tony down the hallway of their New York penthouse apartment. He remembered sitting on the cold tile floor of his room, head rest against the heavy wooden door that was doing nothing to muffle his father’s harsh words.

His father was angry, Tony had gotten kicked out of his third private school on the East Coast, the letter expulsion still clutched in his father’s harsh grasp. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen his father this furious before and Tony knew that the only thing that saved him from taking a glass full of scotch to the face was his mother’s presence in the room. Maria Stark might’ve been docile about a lot of things, but Howard taking his rage out on Tony physically, that would never fly in this house hold.

Tears of anger and embarrassment welled in Tony’s eyes and he wiped them away furiously, refusing to waste anymore energy on that man that he was forced to acknowledge as his father. No matter what Tony did, it was never enough to please Howard Stark. He made his first prototype of an arch reactor at the age of six, Howard wanted it by age five. Tony skipped three grades, Howard wanted him to skip four. Tony, despite his age, was offered a spot at MIT and if Howard had it his way? He would’ve been there a year ago. No matter how much Tony achieved, how many goals he surpassed, he always came up short in Howard’s eyes. Being the constant source of Howard’s disappointment and ire made Tony wonder if he would ever succeed in his father’s eyes, if his dad would ever clap him on the back and say “I’m proud of you, son.”

He wondered, some nights, when he’d lie awake in his too big bed in his too big room in his too big house, if his father had ever wanted children, had wanted Tony.

The thought crossed his mid countless of times, until it latched onto his cerebral cortex and sat there, like the worst form of cancer that had no possible cure.

And while Tony sat there, head resting tiredly against the warm wood, Howard’s voice still echoing down the long hallway, that cancer spread until it proved fatal.

He never wanted his children to feel like this.

Unwanted

Worthless

A complete and utter failure.

Tony was self-aware enough to know that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, that human nature was a pattern and patterns were destined to repeat themselves, without fail. Anger and rage and disappointment were the only form of affection Tony was used to getting to his father. His father was a cold man, always keeping Tony at a distance that no matter how hard he tried, Tony could never quite breach.

And Tony knew, no matter how hard he tried, he would always end up like his father.

~~~~~~~

Peter Parker came into his life unexpectedly and despite popular opinion, unplanned. He’d been keep tabs on the Spider-Kid since the kid popped up on his radar a few months ago, clad in that god awful homemade leotard/hoodie contraption and flying around Queens on his webs with all the grace of a child learning to walk for the first time. Tony never planned to actually meet the kid behind the mask or reaching out to the flying kid in his homemade costume, but when the Avengers disbanded and the only family Tony had ever known was decreasing in numbers, he needed back up.

Looking back, his intentions were purely selfish and it shamed him to admit, when he dropped the kid back off in his sketchy neighborhood in Queens with the new suit he’d made him, he never had any intention of keeping in contact with the kid.

To absolve himself from the guilt, he appointed Happy as his chaperone and threw himself into creating new legs for Rhodey, another way to attempting to soothe ache of guilt that had settled along with the shrapnel, in his battered heart.

He underestimated Peter, who was pushy and persistent and finally, after three months, Happy threw his phone at Tony and told him to call the kid. That night, Tony, with a glass of scotch in hand, filtered through the hundreds of voicemails Peter had left Happy—anecdotes of his daily patrols, everything from helping old ladies cross the street, stopping bike thieves to getting cats out of trees. Each story was told with excruciating detail, in that excited ramble the kid got whenever he was particularly enthused about something and warmth settled around Tony’s heart, fond amusement making his lips curl into his first genuine smile in months.

It took Tony another week to reach out to the kid, but he did and that’s how he found himself, in one of his more flashier cars, sitting outside of Peter’s school. He ignored the gawking, the stunned stares and the whispers of the students filtering out of the school, his eyes scanning the crowd before they landed on a familiar head of messy hair.

Peter was talking excitedly to the chubby, dark haired Asian kid by his side, who was nodding along to everything Peter said with a look of pure wonder on his face and Tony wondered briefly if his little friend knew that his BFF moonlighted as a super-hero in spandex at night.

Another kid appeared by Peter’s side and Tony watched as Peter visibly tensed and tried to skirt around the kid, but the kid threw a hand out and stopped Peter in his tracks.

The cocky grin that appeared on the kid’s face was all too familiar to Tony and before he could even second guess himself, he was out of his car and walking towards the three boys, ignoring the murmurs coming from the crowd.

“—when are you gonna stop lying about your internship with Tony Stark, Penis Parker? There’s no way someone like Tony Stark would ever take on a charity case like you—“

Peter looked up when he heard the murmuring crowd fall to a hush and his gaze landed on Tony. The amount of surprise in the kid’s features made Tony’s gut clench that in no way had to do with the greasy cheeseburger he ate on the way over here.

“M-Mr. Stark, what, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter stammered, flicking his gaze back to would be bully in front of him.

“Yeah, Parker, like I’m gonna fall for that—

“Is there a problem here, gentlemen?” Tony interrupted, smirking in satisfaction when the kid that was giving Peter a hard time, froze, turning his disbelieving eyes on to Tony.

“Y-You-You’re Tony Stark.” He said faintly, his voice shaking.

Tony smirked, “Astute observation and you are?”

The kid gulped, his adams apple bobbing harshly, “F-Flash Thompson.”

“Makes sense,” Tony said with a nod of his head, looking the kid up and down, “I’d bully someone too, if my parents named me after the lamest superhero to ever grace the pages of a comic book, overcompensation and all that,” Tony said thoughtfully, “especially with your perceived fixation on the male genitalia. Tell me, did it take you a while to come up with something that juvenile or did you have someone equally as childish think it up for you? Because I would think someone with—and I’m assuming here, so correct me if my deductive reasoning skills are off—a high level of intelligence would come up with something a little bit more creative than ‘Penis Parker’.”

By the time Tony was done, the crowd around him was snickering and the kid in front of him looked like he wanted nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow him whole, if such things were possible.

Tony smiled, but there was nothing nice about, “Now, if I ever catch wind of you so much as looking in Peter’s direction again and trust me, kid, I’ve got my ways, I have no issue siccing my AI on all your school records and wreaking havoc on your future plans for any Ivy League schools, you reading me kid?”

Flash nodded so vigorously he resembled a bobble head, “Y-Yes, Sir.”

Tony smiled, this one much more kind than the last, “Good, I’m glad we could reach an understanding, now running along so I can talk to my intern here without your sorry excuse for cologne clouding my senses, seriously kid less is more.”

Flash tucked his proverbial tail between his legs and pushed through the crowd of people that were now openly laughing, losing interest in Tony in favor of chasing after Flash to mock him.

Tony shouldn’t feel as proud as he did, but he knew what it was like to be bullied and he’d be damned if his kid—ahem, someone like Peter had to deal with someone as childish as Flash Thompson every day and it was within his power to do something about it. Like kid didn’t already have enough to deal with as it was.

He turned back to see a dumbfounded Peter and his equally as flabbergasted friend.

“That was—” Peter began, but seemed to be at a loss for words, shaking his head in disbelief.

His friend, however, didn’t seem to have that particular problem.

“—AWESOME!” His friend said excitedly, “oh man did you see Flash’s face? Dude, this is greatest thing to ever happen to me. Tony Stark just verbally assaulted Flash, Jesus dude, how is this your life? If you ever want to trade, even if it’s just for a day, I’m totally down—“

Ned.” Peter muttered, elbowing him roughly, giving a rough jerk of his head in Tony’s direction. He flicked his apologetic gaze over to Tony, who simply rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny the amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Ned followed his gaze and flushed, “Right, sorry.”

Peter closed his eyes for a moment and Tony could see the kid physically trying to fight off his embarrassment and couldn’t help but chuckle.

Peter’s eyes snapped open at the sound and the surprise and confusion from earlier was back, “Mr. Stark, what are you doing here? At my school? Is everything okay? Is there a—“ Peter glanced around in a sad attempt at nonchalance and lowered his voice to an equally as sad attempt at a whisper, “—mission?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a manner that was making Tony wonder if the kid had a weird twitch he’d never noticed before.

Tony glanced over at Ned quickly, going back to his original curiosity of how much the kid actually knew about his arachnid friend here, but Ned seemed to catch on to Tony’s unasked question.

“Don’t worry Mr. Stark, sir, I’m Peter’s Guy In The Chair.” Ned answered helpfully, giving him a bright smile.

Tony glanced back over at Peter with a raised eyebrow, who simply muttered “dude” in an exasperated tone, shaking his head before returning his attention to Tony, “Ned knows.”

“Oh, well, in that case, no, there is no…mission,” Tony said in a mock whisper, making Peter flush, “I’m working on a new Iron Man suit and I need to pick your brain for some ideas on upgrades, figured I’d swing by and pick you up from school today.”

Peter’s eyes widened and Ned seemed torn between fainting or peeing himself from excitement.

“You get to touch the Iron Man suit?!” He squeaked, turning his wide-eyed gaze over to Peter, who only gave Ned a look, who bit his lip sheepishly, but looked like he was ready to explode from the level of his enthusiasm.

Peter ignored him, “I was supposed to help Ned finish the lego Death Star today, we were supposed to do it yesterday, but I uh, kinda got caught up on patrol.” Peter gave Tony a guilty shrug of his shoulders.

“So let me get this straight,” Tony said slowly, “you’re turning down quality time in my personal lab to build a lego Death Star with Ned over here?”

Peter’s eyes had lit up at the mentions of Tony’s lab, but with quick glance at a wide eyed Ned, who seemed to be stuck on the fact that Tony Stark said his name, his excitement dimmed. But Peter was loyal, almost to a fault, and nodded resolutely.

Tony, seemingly at a loss for words, just stood there, shellshocked at being told no, by a fifteen year old kid at that. A small part of Tony, the one that was actually looking forward to hanging out with the kid, was slightly hurt at the rejection.

Ned, who’d been watching the entire scene with wide eyes, was more observant than he looked and seemed to sense Peter’s indecision and Tony’s disappointment, because he gave his friend a bright smile, “Dude, we can finish the Death Star anytime and besides, my mom wanted me home tonight to help her with something, so I’m booked, raincheck?” He offered.

Peter glanced at Ned then at Tony and then back to Ned, “Um, sure Ned, no problem.”

Ned gave him a smile and then turning his attention back to Tony, his friendly smiled turned a bit more to the manic grin that most people wore in Tony’s presence, “It was really nice to meet you Mr. Stark.”

He offered Peter a fist bump, who returned it, before he started walking down the side walk, towards, what Tony assumed, was home.

Turning his attention back to the kid, he gave him a smile, “Good good, now we should probably be on our way if we want to avoid traffic. Now, as far as suit upgrades go, I was thinking of up-ing the suit’s repulsers a bit—hey, kid, you coming?” Tony asked from his position on the driver’s side, raising an eyebrow at Peter, who was still standing on the side walk. Tony followed his gaze and saw Ned still making his way down the sidewalk and chancing a glance back at Peter, who was still watching him with big, guilty eyes, he sighed.

The things I do for you, kid, Tony thought to himself.

“Hey, Ned,” Tony shouted, making the kid pause and turn around, looking to Peter, who was watching Tony with the beginnings of a smile, then back to Tony curiously, “would you like to join us? There’s plenty of room in the lab for three people.”

Even from a few yards away, Tony could see the kid’s eyes widen in surprise before he hustled his way back to an equally excited Peter, who shot him a grateful look.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” He said quietly, giving him a bright smile.

And Tony couldn’t help but smile back, “You’re welcome, kiddo,” eyeing a panting Ned warily, “make sure he doesn’t do anything…weird, okay? I don’t mind opening my lab to him but there was something in his eyes when I was talking about the Iron Man suit that made me decidedly uncomfortable.”

Peter gave a breathy laugh, “Don’t worry, Mr. Stark, Ned’s cool.”

Ned, who had come to a slightly sweaty stop in from them, looked up at Tony with wide eyes, “Can I try on the Iron Man helmet?”

“Dude.”

~~~~~~~~~

Tony spent the majority of their time in lab just watching Peter and Ned run around like kids in a candy store—picking things up, playing with the robots—DUM-E taking a special liking to Peter, who, Tony was pleased to see, treated him like a human, thanking him when he brought them water from the stocked fridge and smiling when DUM-E beeped happily in return—and played with all the gadgets laying around.

Tony, albeit wearily, let them try on one of the Iron Man helmets from one of his earlier models and explained to them how the suit worked, both of them hanging on to his every word. He showed them the blue prints for his newest model, listening to their suggestions and even writing a few them down to look into later.

Ned, Tony found out, was rather intelligent with computers. He gave him one of his old security systems and watched with genuine interest as the kid hacked into the the files with ease and recoded the entire system in a matter of minutes.

When Tony looked it over, he let out a grunt of an approval, “Nice work, kid.”

Ned all but fainted at Tony’s praise.

The hours slipped by and F.R.I.D.A.Y. being the helpful AI that she is, had ordered pizzas without Tony even having to ask and had them sent to the kitchen, alerting them when they had arrived. Tony led them up to the kitchen, watching with thinly veiled amusement as they both took in every new surrounding with the same amount of interest they had shown in the lab.

Tony continued to observe them as they tore into the pizza like they hadn’t eaten in days and taking a quick glance at the clock, he realized with a flash of guilt, that they had been down in the lab for over four hours and the last time they had probably eaten something would’ve been well over seven or eight hours ago.

It was nice, Tony deiced, listening to their mindless chatter and what was especially nice, was seeing how at ease Peter was with his friend, looking like a true fifteen year old with his friend over to his house on a school night, like he didn’t have super powers, like he didn’t dress up in tight spandex and web his way through Queens and fight crime at night while trying to balance a normal life.

The thought nagged at Tony for the rest of dinner and as he rode silently with them in the backseat while Happy drove them all to Ned’s apartment first, who still looked like he couldn’t believe today was real, thanking Tony breathlessly for the best day of his life and telling Peter he’d see him tomorrow at school.

Peter watched his friend with a small, amused smile and when they got to Peter’s apartment building, Tony glanced over at the kid, the smile still had yet to leave his face.

“Alright kid, this is your stop,” Tony said, making a move to undo his seatbelt, but the kid’s hesitant voice made him pause.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said softly, clearing his throat, “I uh, just wanted to thank you, you know for well, everything,” the kid breathed, smiling up at him so sincerely that it made Tony’s chest ache in the best sort of way, “today was amazing and I really appreciate you inviting Ned along with us, he really looks up to you, you know? And I haven’t really been able to spend much time with him since, y’know, the whole Spider-Man thing.”

The kid paused before continuing on in a softer voice, “And about Flash, I really, really don’t know how to thank you for that,” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed, “it’s kind of funny, in a way, I’m a sort of super-hero and I can’t even stand up to a bully—“

Tony’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the kid’s self-deprecation, “Look, kid, I’m no stranger to bullies,” he began, sighing heavily, “I had my fair share of them when I was in school and even in college. I learned that while you may no be able to physically fight someone, you can always fight them with words and sometimes, words can hurt more than your fists. All I did was give that Flash kid a taste of his own medicine and hopefully, got him off your case.”

Peter was silent for a moment, considering Tony’s words before giving him another appreciative smile, “I don’t think Flash will be messing with me anytime soon, but still, thank you,” Peter’s smile turned shy, “you’re the first adult, other than May, to stand up for me and I really appreciate it, so thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Call me Tony,” Tony offered after a beat of silence, unsure of how to respond to such a statement.

Whatever he was trying to say, the kid got, because he smiled brightly and Tony, suddenly feeling awkward at the unusual sentimental moment, busied himself with unbuckling his seatbelt, ignoring the warmth in his chest.

He reached around the kid to open the door for him and Peter, rather than getting out, just like last time, he reached up and wrapped his arms around Tony, thinking he was hugging him

“This um, wasn’t a hug,” Tony began awkwardly, “I’m just getting the door for you.”

However, before the kid could pull away, Tony wrapped his arms around him and gave him a quick, but firm squeeze.

Peter gave him another smile before wishing Tony and Happy a goodnight,  getting out of the car and making his way up towards his apartment. Tony debated on his next move, mulling it over quickly and before the kid could get too far, he found himself making a snap decision and rolling down he window.

“Hey, Underoos,” Tony started, slightly unsure when the kid turned around and looked at Tony with hopeful eyes.

“Same time, same place tomorrow?” He said after a moment of silence, the kid’s answering grin melting away any self doubt before it could begin.

“Sure Mr.Stark—Tony,” Peter stuttered excitedly, “sounds great!”

Tony watched the kid go with a satisfied smiled, so caught up in his happy little pseudo-family moment that he almost didn’t hear his phone ring.

Not even bothering to glance at the caller I.D., he answered it with a smooth, “Stark.”

“Tony?! What the hell we’re you thinking going to a school and threatening a minor, A MINOR—“

Shit.

~~~~~

Should I continue? Please let me know :)

for science

pairing: reader x jimin

rating: m

◦ word count: 7.7k

m a s t e r l i s t


Originally posted by parkjmzl

Absurd. Absolutely fucking absurd. It was 2am during finals week and the cafe was out of coffee? You had some colorful words for the person responsible. Dragging yourself up the stairs with sleep-ridden eyelids, you muttered curses under your quickened breath. You clenched and unclenched your fist. It was safe to say that your fifth espresso shot had officially just worn off. Despite the troubling rate of heartbeat and the fact that your hand was shaking all on its own, the subtle pounding of a migraine lingered between your temples in demand for something to keep it awake.

There was still a menacing stack of papers left to grade. If something could pull you away from it all, you would have been thankful. It was almost nauseating, actually, how much work you had yet to complete. Who the hell said grad school was a good idea? The urge to scream rippled in the back of your throat, tempting you to let everything out and just empty yourself into time and space.

It did you no better to return to the study room –the very cramped one that you had booked privately for the entire day– to find a regretfully familiar face emptying his bag across from your belongings. “What do you think you’re doing?” You felt lightweight as the angry jitters travelled through your body. The heavy door slammed shut behind you. It sent a deafening sound cracking through the library.

Keep reading

Inexorable (3-FINAL)

Plot: How does is feel to be arranged to be married to a cocky, arrogant Mafia leader? Once you look at his face, you think you’re lucky, but then he opens his mouth.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, Mafia au!

Warnings: dom!Jungkook, steamy hot tub sex yes

Notes: Last part, ya’ll. I hope you like it. I changed the gif because tumblr is being a meanie and it’s not letting me put in my own shit. This brings us to the end of this mini-series! I hope you enjoyed it. 3,430 Words

Part 2 | Part 3 (FINAL) | masterlist

Originally posted by minyoongislaysme

It was safe to say that there wasn’t as much tension between you and your husband anymore. Everything seemed so much more calm than before. Maybe it was because you guys barely talked; or maybe it was because he locked himself in his office all day, working.

An empty cabin was always nice, but you wanted to talk to him. You actually liked arguing with him; teasing him, and he would tease you back. His touch – it was gentle, even though he was being cocky. You hated to admit it, but you were slowly getting used to him.

Now it seemed like the both of you were more like frenemies rather than complete enemies. There was a sort of understanding, considering you were now aware that you were both forced into this marriage when you would rather stay single, and he would rather marry someone else.

“Princess,” Jungkook called you from behind the black kitchen island, his whiskey glass in his hand as he leaned against the countertop – you had no idea when he started calling you that, but it stuck. “I need some beer and and ice.”

Keep reading

⇁ tessellate | 01

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

sequel to nudes, not flowers with more angst and more filth

pairing⇁Hoseok x Reader x Jungkook

genre⇁smut, slight angst || fuckboi!au

warnings⇁public indecency, cumplay, exhibitionism, rough sex, dom/sub undertones, dom!junghope, jealousy, mentions of infidelity, sex in front of a mirror, oh n light daddy kink 

word count⇁15k

“ Triangles are my favorite shape
Three points where two lines meet.” (tessellate)

Triangles are supposed to be the strongest and most stable of all geometric shapes. You wonder how true this statement is if applied to real life situations. The way you see it: triangles aren’t a reliable structure for relationships, especially if the parties you’re involved with find commitment to be a foreign concept. 

or : a fuckboy’s guide to polyamory 

start | 01

Keep reading

Delivery Boy

Jeon Jungkook of BTS x reader (Y/N) smut. Plain and simple.

Originally posted by jimiyoong



Halloween, your favourite time of the year. You had always loved dressing up, even as a little girl.
Your family had always hosted a Halloween party and just because you were now an adult and off at school, it didn’t mean you were going to stop the party. Hell no. If anything, you knew it’d be crazier than any party your parents could throw, after all, it’d be full of young adults getting drunk in fancy dress and no doubt fucking in any corner they could.
You made a mental note to lock your bedroom door before people started to turn up.

Most of your housemates had gone off to different parties around the city and only one remained, Taehyung.
He had been almost as excited for the party as you and insisted on helping you plan and set it all up. He also insisted you went in matching outfits, dressed as an old-fashioned couple he saw in a painting in the loft that thoroughly creeped him out. That painting was now the pride of place above the drinks table for the duration of Halloween month, as you called it.
Taehyung hadn’t entered the living room since you put it up and it always amused you seeing him avoid it at all costs.

“Get the door Y/N!” Taehyung yelled from his room where he was well, you didn’t know what but you didn’t want to even question it after the last time you did and he went into explicit detail about the fantasy he was having while masturbating.

You groaned but dragged yourself to answer the front door, having barely heard it over the music you had playing.

On the other side of the door stood a male with dark hair and brown, doe eyes. He was wearing a pizza delivery uniform, a piece of paper in his hands.

“You’re early.” You mumbled, taking in his outfit. “Pizza delivery guy, huh? Honestly never seen that one before.” You mused, flashing the attractive stranger a grin. He blinked a few times then showed you the paper. “Wait, you’re actually a delivery guy?”

“Yeah.” He nodded slowly. “Am I at the wrong place?”

“No, I just wasn’t aware we ordered anything. One sec.” You backed up into the hallway to stand at the bottom of the stairs. “Yah! Did you order pizza?!” You yelled. Taehyung grunted back a yes in response, sounded breathless. “Ew.” You shuddered and returned tot he door. “Guess you definitely are.” She looked at the paper, reading the order. “How fucking much did he order?”

“Having a party, I assume?” He chuckled, looking at your outfit up and down.

“Nah, I just like dressing like a sexually frustrated Victorian woman in my spare time.” He let out a breath of understanding.

“We all have our kinks.” He teased and you gasped, reaching out to nudge him in faux offence. He giggled and you couldn’t help but smile, laughing to yourself.

Were you really flirting with the delivery guy?
You looked him over again, slower to really take in every inch of his being.
Yes. You were definitely flirting with the delivery guy.

“So, should I start bringing it up?” He asked, pointing over his shoulder to the car parked on the road.

“Oh right, yeah, I’ll help.”

“Okay.” He grinned, glad for the help and together, you ferried the takeout from the car and into the kitchen.

He looked down curiously as you set up the boxes on the counters, around already existing food displays.

“Wow, you guys really like Halloween, huh?” He spoke, looking at all the decorations in awe. A lot of which you had made by hand the months before ass it was cheaper than buying some that probably wouldn’t even fit your ideas anyway.

“We hate it.”

“You’re really sarcastic, huh?”

“Never.” You looked at him then to see him grinning at you in amusement. “You know, you kind of look familiar.” You tilted your head at him, knitting your brows together.

“So do you. Maybe we’ve crossed paths before?” He suggested, looking as lost as you felt trying to recall why you felt like you’d seen him before.

“Yeah maybe. Do you go to school here?”

“On campus?” He pointed to the floor, signifying the campus your house resided on.

“Nah, I meant the playschool down the road. You’re a child, right?” He squared his eyes, giving you a playful warning glance. “Aw, isn’t it cute when little boys think they can scare grown-ups?” A gasp of surprise left your lips when he suddenly closed the gap between you, your chests almost touching, his head tilted down to look at you menacingly, a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine.

“Want to call me a little boy again, huh?” He challenged, licking his lips. “See where it gets you.”

“Oh, honey.” You scoffed, snapping back to yourself. You bravely took the last step between you, your toes touching, your chest gently pushed against his, not missing how he inhaled sharply and flicked his tongue out to wet his lips again. “You can’t be suggesting you can make me take back my words.” He nodded confidently. “Oh little boy, you can’t make me do shit.”

“Watch me.” He growled cockily before pushing you against the wall, his lips crashing to yours.

He had only knocked your door ten minutes previous and here you were making out with the delivery guy in a room chock full of sexual tension you two quickly created.
He let out a breathy moan when you bit his bottom lip gently. It was the single hottest thing you had ever heard and you knew you were wet.

“Fuck, is this seriously a thing that is actually happening?” You panted out, looking up into his eyes that were suddenly a lot darker, turning you on further.

“I really hope so.” He confessed.

“Fuck, me too.” You nodded and pulled him back down to lock your lips together, wasting no time and flicking your tongue out. He parted his lips and your tongues met, rubbing together earning moans from the both of you.

“When does your party start?” He asked when your lips parted only for yours to trace that intense, sharp jawline of his.

“Seven.” He checked his watch.

“It’s half six.”

“Plenty of time.” Without warning, he picked you up and sat you on his hips, pushing his body to yours. You gasped feeling his growing erection through all the layers of clothing between you.

“Okay I know this outfit probably took a lot of time but you need to take it off before I fucking rip it off.” He warned, practically growling as he glared at the layers of fabric that made up your skirt. You giggled and reached around to pull on the ribbon holding the back closed. He watched in impatient fascination ad you quickly removed the bottom half of your dress, leaving you in the tight blouse and underwear.
“I shouldn’t find this as hot as I do but fuck, I really do.” You giggled and circled your hips, rubbing against the large bulge in his trousers making him moan lowly.

“I can tell.” You teased.

“You’re saying I’m the only one turned on right now? Because I can feel how wet you are through my pants, sweetheart.” Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
Surely he was lying, it wasn’t possible to feel such a thing, right?
A shakey moan left your lips when he slid a hand between your bodies to touch his long fingers to your clothes heat.
“Oh, babygirl, you’re fucking soaked.” He cooed, smirking at you when your cheeks darkened. “Don’t be embarrassed."He pressed teasing kisses across your jaw as his voice dropped, whispering to you in a tone that was so low it shot straight to your core. "It’s so fucking hot.” He growled before his lips attached to your neck, sucking on the skin. You gasped and gripped his shoulders, fingers digging in when his fingers started to rub at you through your damp underwear.

“Wh-what’s your name?” You stuttered, his fingers hooking under your underwear to touch you directly. Your eyes closed and your head tipped back, absentmindedly grinding your hips down onto his digits as they teased you.

“Hm? My name? Why do you want-”

“I want to know what I should moan out.”

“Jungkook.” He rushed out without hesitation making you chuckle. “What’s your’s?”

“Y/N.” He hummed against your neck before saying your name in a breathy tone that made you moan his name back at him.

“My name sounds perfect coming from your lips.” Your legs tightened around him when he slid a finger into you. “God, you’re so fucking wet, my finger just slides right in. I bet you can take another huh Y/N? Think you can take more princess?” You nodded and a second finger followed his first. You moaned and held him tighter as they curled inside of you.

“J-Jungkook.” You almost pleaded breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“I-I don’t want your fingers.” He stopped his movements, ceasing abusing your walls with the pads of his fingers in search for your g-spot.

“What?” He looked rejected and leant back slightly, pulling his fingers out of you. “Should I leave?”

“No.” You laughed and brushed your lips over his. “I want your cock, baby.” His eyes sparked with lust again and he nodded. He put you down to unbuckle his belt, hands fumbling in anticipation. You giggled seeing he was growing frustrated with the button on his jeans that just wouldn’t open. You put your hands over his and opened the fly easily. He dropped his hands to his side, licking his dry lips, eyes not leaving your figure as you lowered onto your knees in front of him, pulling down his jeans as you went until they were around his knees.
Your eyes lifted to meet his gaze as you pulled down his boxers too. He bit his lip and threaded his fingers into your hair to tug you closer suggestively.
It was clear what he wanted you to do, where he wanted you but he didn’t want to make you do anything you weren’t comfortable with.

A smirk lifted your lips and you stuck your tongue out, flattening it against the underside of his erection before licking from the base upwards, swirling your tongue around the tip. Jungkook moaned, his fingers gripping your hair tighter. His eyes wanted to close and focus on the pleasure but you looked so damn sinful on your knees in front of him like that he couldn’t pass up the chance to drink in the sight.

It didn’t take long for your teasing motions on his erection to really wind him up. He was breathing heavily, body tensed, watching to thrust into your mouth but not following his body’s wishes, by the time she gripped your shoulders and pulled you up to your feet.

He spun you and pushed you against the wall. Your hands flew out to slap against the brickwork making you hiss in pain. But the hurt left almost instantly. Jungkook all but ripped your panties in his rush to get them off.

One large hand gripped your bare hip to hold you still, pull your arse towards him more.

Jungkook grabbed his dick with his free hand and allowed himself a few pumps, spreading his precum up and down his length, as he took in the sight of you bent over, braced against the wall with legs spread, waiting for him to fuck you.
As soon as his tip lined with your entrance, he started to push forward, entering you slowly.
Satisfied moans left both your lips at the feeling. It felt as if you had been waiting for that moment for a long time, months not way under an hour.

Jungkook’s hips met yours as he bottomed out and he allowed you both a few moments to get used to it, soak in the feeling of him filling you so deliciously before he started to rock his hips.
His thrusts were slow and pretty shallow at first, testing the waters before he picked up his rhythm, fucking you harder and deeper than anyone had in a long time.

Your fingers scraped against the wall, moans shamelessly leaving your parted lips as he hit deep within you.

Jungkook had his jaw clenched tight, trying to make as little noise as possible. As much as he was enjoying himself, he was almost enjoying hearing your noises of pleasure just as much.

You realised you could only hear the occasional grunt of effort from him and closed your mouth, sulking.

“W-what’re you doing?” He panted, slowing down slightly to talk without his voice breaking too much.

“I want to hear you.” You spoke.

“What?” He chuckled and fell still. You pushed up slightly and looked over your shoulder at him. He licked his lips at your dark expression, his hips shallowly thrusting into you again without him even really registering so.

“I want to hear how good you feel Jungkook. Moan for me baby.” You encouraged.

“You want that?”

“So fucking much.” He pulled your back to his chest making you whimper as he reached a new, better spot inside you, to kiss you heavily.
You moaned into his mouth when he returned to snapping his hips into you.
You had to pull out of the kiss, unable to focus on it when he was hitting the perfect spot inside you that made you see spots.

“You’re so fucking hot.” He moaned, wrapping one arm around your waist and pressing his palm against your chest to keep you against him int hat position. His other hand reached over to rest against the wall once he had moved you both forward before his hips went fucking wild.

You were practically screaming in pleasure, your nails dragging down his forearm, leaving red marks. Jungkook was certain you had even broken the skin but it only spurred him on.

“Fu-fuck, Jungkook.” You whined, your legs starting to shake.

“Are you going to cum?” He panted into your ear, his hot breath making you shiver as it fanned over your neck. You nodded. “Good, cum on my cock like a good girl, Y/N.”
A loud moan left your lips as the pleasure in your stomach exploding sending your hips jutting as your orgasm hit you.

Jungkook gritted his teeth, determined to last a little longer despite your walls clenching and spasming around him. But the second you moaned his name, he lost it and his hips slammed against you roughly a few times as he came, squeezing his eyes tight and burying his face in your neck.

Your walls clenched a little tighter at the sound of your name falling from his lips like a fucked out mantra.

Slowly, you both came down from your highs and caught your breath back.
Jungkook’s face scrunched into a wince against your neck as he pulled out of you before letting you go, a little reluctantly it felt, to pull his clothing back up and tuck himself away.

“Well, that’s the best tip I’ve ever gotten.” He sniggered and you rolled your eyes before laughing too, collecting your clothing. You turned to look at him sternly upon finding a hole in your underwear, at the waistband.

“Jungkook!” You exclaimed. He looked at the garment before grinning sheepishly at you. “These are my favourite ones!”

“I’m sorry, I’ll replace them.” He offered, taking them from your hand quickly to look them over. You ignored him to put your skirt back on, glad it was floor length and there was no chance anyone would know you were without underwear.

“Right, okay.” You held your hand out. He held the item closer. “You’re seriously going to steal my ripped underwear?”

“I need them so I know what I’m replacing.” He argued. You gave him a disbelieving look. “Like you want them back now they’re ripped anyway.” He scoffed and tucked the item into his pocket. You simply rolled your eyes again. “I should get back to work. I still have another delivery to do. My boss is going to kill me for being late. They’re going to get free pizzas now.” He sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry for letting you fuck me.” You retorted and he chuckled at your sarcasm.

“Never apologise for that. I’ll give away all the pizzas free if I can fuck you again.” You bit your lip, pretending to think as you walked him tot he front door. “So, can I see you again?” He asked turning back to walk tot he door after walking down the porch steps.

“You do owe me underwear.” You grinned. He grinned back and nodded. He checked his watch before looking between his car and you, debating something. He rushed over and held your face to press a heavy, lingering kiss to your lips.
“What’s that? So I don’t forget what you taste like?” You joked.

“Always leave them wanting more.” He winked then practically ran to his car to speed off for his next delivery.
You rolled your eyes and returned to the house, stopping at the hallway mirror to check your reflection and make yourself presentable.

“Did you just fuck the delivery guy?” You jumped hearing Taehyung’s teasing voice at the stairs. You looked over at him with a smirk and he started to cackle. “That’s my girl!” He high fived you before helping you get back into costume properly.

***

It was two hours later when you stopped in shock, seeing a familiar face stood at the bottom of the stairs with Taehyung, the pair goofing around with some of Taehyung’s other friends.
You had just come up from the haunted house in the basement.

“There she is!” Taehyung cooed spotting you. The boys all turned to look at you, the friends of Taehyung’s you had met pulling you to them in drunken affection.

“Alright, boys.” You laughed pulling away to stand between Taehyung and the familiar face.

“Oh, you haven’t met before, have you?” Taehyung drawled, shuffling drunkenly to lean against the stair railing. “This is Kookie.” He spoke pointing to your right, at Jungkook. You looked at him to see he was already smirking at you.

“Ah, the infamous Kookie.” You spoke nodding slowly. “Tae tells me you have like no balls when it comes to girls.” Their friends laughed as you insulted Jungkook. You smirked and he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Guess you know that’s a load of shit.” He replied, voice low.

The conversation was quickly pulled away from you two as Hoseok screamed as a fake spider landed on his head. Everyone erupted in laughter as he ran off to chase the culprit, promising their head on a spear.
The remaining group returned to the conversation, not even noticing as Jungkook moved closer to you and slyly put a hand on your arse.

“Still not wearing any panties huh? Naughty girl.” He teased, groping your flesh roughly.

“I’m not and it makes it that much harder to stop your cum running down my leg.” Jungkook sucked in a breath at that and you looked up at him bravely, not caring that your friends could catch you two flirting so openly, sexual tension already building between your close bodies. “I bet you’d like to see that, hm? Your cum spilling out of me.”

“So fucking much.”

You smirked and excused yourself, walking up to your room.
You knew Jungkook would follow shortly and you had a feeling every orgasm he gave you was going to be better than the last and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to take every chance to fuck your delivery boy.


For my girl @btsmuttin, hope you like it baby

Originally posted by nojamsdirtywater


~Chee

deal | pt 3 (m)

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

summary: the years spent working hard had really paid off and was it so wrong to want to rub that in a few faces? The cliché mean girls that often teased you for not doing anything with your hair or clothing, wouldn’t it be great to show off someone like Jungkook? High school reunion au + ceo!jeon

word count: 3,292

warning: slight voyeurism, usual filth etc

part one | part two

Monday. A fresh start to the week, bringing a close to deadlines as new deals began. The office as always was bustling with life, colleagues sharing mundane details of their past weekend and plans for the next. However, an interesting topic or rather rumour was making it’s way around the office at a frightening speed. You’re preparing your first cup of coffee that morning when you hear it, feminine sniggers to the right of you.

Keep reading

You’re In Love With Him But He Likes Your Best Friend

Masterlist linked in bio 


Harry’s been drinking all night.

It all started off with Savannah, whom he went to Lexi’s Bar with a couple of friends. It was a tradition they all had that carried throughout the past couple of months. Because Friday night meant cheaper alcohol, and Y/n’ s closing shift.

They were all having a good time, Y/n serving them drinks and they all drank their week away. It was just a night of celebrating the end of the week, where stress could be left behind for at least a couple of hours.

Everything was great until Harry got too handsy. It wasn’t his fault, he thinks, they had been talking for months and he had no particular reason to refrain himself from wrapping his arms around Savannah, considering she’s let him do it many times before.

But tonight, she wasn’t going near him, which was a drastic change from her previous attitude with him earlier that night.

So now, he’s stranded at Lexi’s Bar past closing hours, tipsy out of his mind. Savannah left without a word, abandoning him at the bar with no other ride home. 

Jesus, Harry!” Y/n gasps, her hand instinctively reaching for her chest when she makes her way back to the bar. “What the hell are you still doing here?!”

Their friends had left a while ago, only Harry remaining slumped against the bar with an empty glass of Malibu. She wasn’t aware of his stay, in fact, it was her closing shift and the bar had closed twenty minutes ago. Only the slight sound of the radio and the clanging of dishes Y/n was washing could be heard throughout the scene.

He looks like a mix of frustrated and upset, a clear shadow of sadness in his eyes as he looks up at her. He frowns a bit, looking back down at the empty glass that’s fiddling in his hands as he lets out an almost inaudible sigh.

“Do you mind driving me home?” he asks guiltily, “Savannah was my ride but she’s not really speaking to me right now.”

Y/n furrows her eyebrows at the softness of his words, an evident tone of helplessness when he spoke. She nods her head slightly, reaching over to grab his finished drink.

“Gonna wash this real quick,” she mutters, “you can grab your coat, I’ll be right out.”

Harry nods while shooting her a small smile through his frown. He’s always been extremely appreciative of her efforts with him. He knows damn well no other person would be able to treat him the way she does. She put him first, always, and it had always been something Harry never fully understood. She went out of the way for him whenever he needed it most, without the smallest hesitation. And if he needed someone to talk to, even if it was about the horrendous traffic on his way to work, she was always there to listen to him.

He can’t lie, he feels guilty that it’s her closing shift and she’d have to be driving out of her way in order to take him home. But in all honesty, he had nobody else. Savannah left without a word after Harry tried desperately to get her attention, his other friends following shortly after in one car, leaving Harry stranded alone at the bar with Y/n still working. So, really, this was his only option.

When Y/n returns to the front of the bar, she remains silent as she grabs her coat off of the hanger. She looks at him from the corner of her eye, watching as his fingers rub harsh circles against his temples, a gesture he’s always done when he was stressed. He shook his head slightly, shutting his eyes tightly as he fixes the jacket hanging swiftly from his shoulders.

She bites her lip, curious eyes wandering around his slumped frame. Seeing Harry distressed makes her feel upset. Witnessing him at a time of stress was extremely rare, and something about it makes Y/n’s stomach drop. He was always so positive, always making sure the people around him were smiling. He has the type of personality others strive, because he’s so selfless and effortless at everything he does, it’s the part of him Y/n always loved and admired.

“What happened? You okay?”

Harry lets out a frustrated sigh, his nose flaring as he closes his eyes momentarily.

“Savannah’s just so confusing sometimes. I like her a lot, but she’s hard to keep up with. It’s like she’s into me one minute and the next like I’m completely wasting her time, you know? I don’t know what she wants from me anymore.”

Y/n nods, understanding completely what he’s talking about. Savannah often does this to him—to most guys, actually.Because of how different they both are relationship-wise, it’s almost impossible for Harry to adjust to Savannah’s ‘hard to get’ character. Harry prefers to not waste any time when it comes to dating. If he likes someone who reciprocates feelings, he immediately takes action. That’s how he always was with his past girlfriends, taking no time to start a relationship with them.

Savannah, however, loves the game. Being chased amuses her, almost makes her feel as if she’s worth something. Because of her undoubtable beauty and irresistibly charming personality, she always makes the man work for her liking. Her character always made guys frustrated but exposed them to an entirely different relationship. Her hot to cold attitude made men feel intimidated, yet motivated them to catch her. Because, undoubtedly, she’s the ultimate catch no guy could ever ignore.

It had always been that way, too. When Y/n and Savannah both hit puberty, Savannah was the irresistible one. Her figure curved at all the right edges, her tan complexion naturally glowing, and she started to expose herself to new people.

She wasn’t shy of anything. Any opportunity to take on a challenge called Savannah’s name. She was constantly seeking adventure and finding new people to get along with. Which, of course, wasn’t hard at all. Everyone liked Savannah, it was almost impossible not to.

Y/n, however, was the exact opposite. She was beautiful, but not ‘Savannah beautiful.’ She was paler, not a spot of makeup on her face. Her body was a bit more frail than hers, her curves not as extenuated. She was more introverted, as well, only speaking when she felt was necessary. The only way she was able to make friends was through Savannah’s courageous behavior.

And although Savannah and Y/n had an unbreakable bond since middle school, being Savannah’s best friend screwed up Y/n’s love life tremendously. It hurt Y/n a lot throughout her high school years. Being best friends with the most beautiful girl wasn’t easy for her, if anything, it made her feel less about herself. It’s the exact reason why she hasn’t dated in years. Because guys Y/n liked always ended up falling for Savannah.

Which is exactly what’s happening with Harry.


Y/n first met Harry when she began working at Lexi’s. It was her first Friday night shift during the summer. It was her first week after training, so she wasn’t quite used to the busy weekends and late hours, but she didn’t mind it.

She was rearranging glasses at the bar when Harry first walked in. Her breath hitched in her throat when she first saw him enter. She could have sworn her heart had jumped out from her chest in that very moment. He was beautiful, a different kind of beautiful, too. He was so effortless at it—the way he moved and the way he presented himself; he had confidence in himself without flaunting it.

He was wearing tight black jeans with a pink floral see-through button up, flowing loosely from his shoulders. His chest was in great view, as well, the cross hanging from his necklace dangling perfectly between his pecs. His hair was freshly cut, his face freshly shaved and had an aroma of a cologne Y/n wasn’t familiar with. It was unique, though, like him, and all-in-all made him more attractive than she already perceived him to be.

Her eyes went wide when he claimed the barstool in front of her, her actions coming to a halt as her eyes hawked over his every move. She genuinely forgot how to breathe, his physical features overwhelming her in ways she’s never experienced before. The world around her seemed to fade as she admired every part of him she could see.

He was just so breathtaking.

It wasn’t until one of the other bartenders dropped a glass onto the floor that Y/n was pulled out of her trance. She quickly shook her head, slowly coming back in touch with reality. Thankfully, he hadn’t seemed to notice her presence yet.

She shook her head again before working to dry the remaining shot glasses. She just had to make it a couple of hours without completely embarrassing herself in front of him, that’s all she had to do.

Her eyes drifted slightly to him again when he lifted his right leg up against the unoccupied barstool next to him, leaning over before his fingers started working to retie his shoelace.

“The usual.” he spoke, eyes still cast downward.

Y/n looked around behind the counter, checking to see if he was talking to someone else. Considering she had just started working there a week ago and hasn’t served him yet, she was completely clueless as to what he was ordering.

“Uh..”

He looked up from his shoes, eyes diverting right into hers as a sense of realization reached his features.

“Oh, I see,” he giggled, “Sorry, love. I wasn’t aware there was a new bartender in town.”

His voice was both raspy and smooth in the most elegant way she’s ever heard. His accent was so incredibly thick she could visually see it by the way his lips moved. And his giggle, with the slight smirk he developed made her heart flutter in her chest.

Y/n nodded, smiling slightly at him.

“Yeah, just started a week ago. Nobody’s ever ordered ‘the usual’ before.” she joked, nervous laughter falling from her lips as she tucked loose pieces of hair behind her ear.

He grinned at her, his cheeks turning a bit peachy. He had to admit, she was gorgeous, and clearly had a great sense of humor. He could tell she was shy, though, by the way she wasn’t confident in her words and the way her cheeks flushed whenever he spoke to her.

“Cute” he muttered ever so slightly, Y/n almost thought she imagined it, “‘The usual,’ at least for me, is a Malibu Bay Breeze. Bit heavier on the cranberry juice, a bit lighter on the pineapple.”

Y/n nodded, muttering a quiet “coming right up” before gathering the ingredients. Harry watched her as she poured it all together, mixing the essential ingredients, admiring her gestures and movements whenever he said something that made her smile.

They talked for hours that night, getting to know each other. Y/n was mesmerized, completely and utterly captivated at how somebody like him could possibly exist. He was everything she’s ever dreamed of—there wasn’t any part of him she didn’t find alluring. This was the only time she’s ever spoken to him, yet she found herself feeling something she’s never felt before.

And the feelings only got stronger with time. Every Friday for four months, Y/n found Harry coming into Lexi’s earlier than he usually did, and every time he’d come she prepared him a Malibu Bay Breeze—heavy on the cranberry, light on the pineapple.

He stayed with her until closing, until the last light went off and the music went down. And after she was off her shift, he took her to the 24-hour movie theater that hardly anybody went to in those early hours of the morning. Instead of watching, however, they spent the entire movie goofing around with popcorn and sharing fond memories of their childhood.

To say Y/n had fallen hard for Harry was an understatement. She was completely and unconditionally in love with him.

The feeling he had given her never subsided—he never failed to give her a feeling of euphoria whenever he spent his Friday nights with her. And the more he opened up to her, and the more she opened up to him, the more it felt right. He felt right, no part of her doubted that for a second. He captured her heart and she knew there was no way in hell she was ever getting it back.

Savannah even began to notice her shift in mood ever since her Friday night shifts began. It was as if she turned into an entirely different person. She seemed more confident in herself, and Savannah started noticing the softest of smiles illuminating on her face every so often.

Y/n was the happiest she had ever been before, she swore she was on cloud nine. Y/n started to believe nothing could have torn her down. Nothing.

But then, it happened.

Savannah showed up to Lexi’s during Y/n’s regular Friday night shift. It was a little past midnight, arriving back from her aunt’s wedding—which Y/n would have attended if she didn’t need the money (and if it wasn’t during her shift Harry was a frequent customer in).

She ran in with a long eggplant purple dress, which had a long slit along the leg. Her hair curled in perfect waves that fell loosely down her shoulders, her makeup illuminating and extenuating her flawless features.

“Y/n!” She squealed, scurrying her way to the bar while nearly tripping over her six-inch heels.

Y/n saw Harry’s eyes widen at the sight of her. Of course she visited her when Harry’s here, and of course, she visited when she looked as beautiful as ever. Y/n knew the second Savannah walked in that it was over, every possibility of her and Harry building up to a relationship has been knocked down to the ground.

Y/n closed her eyes momentarily, because she started to feel every part of her heartbreak, and it was the most painful feeling she’s ever felt. Harry’s only seen Savannah for a couple of seconds and he was already looking at her in a way he never has with Y/n.

She gritted her teeth harshly, because how did she think this wouldn’t happen? This was always how it ended, and even if Harry ever liked Y/n enough to start a relationship with her, she wouldn’t be able to hide him from Savannah forever.

“Guess what!” she yelled once she found her way to the bar, leaning against it so she was as close as possible to Y/n.

“What?” Y/n smiled weakly, unable to rid the aching in her chest.

“The photographer at the wedding asked me to be a model for his pictures! And not only that, but he just started working for Top Shop, said he could talk to some people for me to make this work! Can you believe it?! Savannah Turk, next top model! Gosh, I’m so excited!”

Y/n smiled widely. It was always Savannah’s dream to become a model, and she could definitely pull it off. In all honesty, she was shocked she wasn’t one already.

“That’s great, Savannah!” Y/n gasped, “I can’t believe this! I’m so happy for you!”

They both reached over to hug each other, Savannah jumping up and down as small squeals fall from her lips. Once they let go, Y/n is quick to fix up Savannah’s favorite drink as she claims the barstool next to Harry.

Harry’s heart began to race as she scooted closer to him. She was completely breathtaking. He had never seen someone like her before, every part of her intrigued him. She drew him in, and there was no way in hell there was any chance of going back.

“I’m Harry, by the way.”

Savannah let out a slight “push” as she waved her hand in the air.

“I know, Y/n doesn’t shut up about you.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, but quickly refrained against her shocked expression as she let out a nervous laugh. God, they couldn’t know about her feelings, because she hadn’t told anybody about how she felt about Harry and certainly wanted to avoid talking about it while he’s practically gawking over Savannah.

Harry looked up at Y/n with a playful smirk resting perfectly on his face.

“Well, who else is going to get me through my Friday night shifts?” Y/n laughed.

Harry lifted his drink up to her, eyebrows lifting as he smirked at her, “And who else is going to get me through my loneliness, eh?”

Ouch.

Savannah’s eyebrows lifted, a wide grin on her face as she looked over to Harry. And by God, he surely was a sight to see.

“Oh, so ‘Friday night shift boy’ is lonely? Don’t know why Y/n hasn’t taken advantage of that yet,” Savannah smirked, “I know I would have.”


Y/n nods again, mustering up a sympathetic smile to him. She doesn’t want any part of Savannah’s games to make him feel bad about himself. None of what he’s feeling is his fault, and every atom in her body aches for him to know that.

“I’m sorry, Harry” she whispers, “I know how much that can hurt, you don’t deserve it.”

He gives her a soft smile, but it falls just as quickly as it spreads. His gaze falls to the floor, eyebrows furrowing as he shakes his head softly.

“I just can’t keep doing this with her.”

His soft and Bambi eyes look up at her in sorrow, a frown stretched on his lips at the strain his heart has endured.

“I don’t know what more I can do, Y/n.”

And as selfish as it sounds, the first thought that comes to her mind after the hopeless words leave Harry’s mouth is you can love me back.

Because, God, if he loved her, she wouldn’t keep him waiting. She wouldn’t keep him under the impression that he’s not good enough. No, Harry’s fulfilled every part of her wildest dreams, and she would never let a day go by without making him feel the way he deserves—loved.

Despite her selfish thoughts that she desperately wishes she could say to him, she pushes them all aside. Harry needs her, he needs her to be the friend that will be there for him in the latest hours of the night. He needs her shoulder to lean on, and she can’t deny the chance to help him through this and make him feel better.

She doesn’t respond to him, only slinging her bag around her shoulder and pointing her head toward the exit doors.

“We can talk about this later, yeah? Lets just get you home first.”


The ride to his house was silent, mainly consisting of the soft tune on the radio and Y/n’s hushed voice singing along. With the alcohol still buzzing inside Harry’s head, he didn’t mind the silence they shared. It was comfortable because Harry wasn’t in the mood to discuss his anticlimactic relationship with Savannah. He just needed someone to listen to him, to be there for him, and Y/n was his favorite company.

When they arrive at his house, Y/n is basically carrying Harry to his door.

“Yeah, alright, you—that’s right, you’re good” she huffs, the weight of his body making it a struggle for her to walk.

He isn’t drunk enough for her to completely guide him, but he is stumbling a bit and does find himself tripping over his own two feet a couple of times.  

Y/n giggles, shaking her head as she walks him through his front door. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have made you that many drinks. Thank God you weren’t planning on driving, that would have been a mess.”

Harry doesn’t have much time to respond before she sits him down on his couch. She runs her thumb along his forehead softly, wiping away some of the sweat before smiling at him softly.

"Gonna make you some tea, now.”

Harry shakes his head, his hand reaching to grab her wrist.

“Love, you don’t have to,” Harry shakes his head, “you’ve been making everybody’s drinks all night.”

She shrugs, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“I don’t mind. You’re upset, I want to make sure you feel better, alright? I know that Savannah does this to you and I don’t—“ she pauses, closing her eyes softly, “and I don’t want you to keep thinking that this is your fault.”

His heart swells at her words, his large hands reaching out to grip her small ones.

“Would you mind just—just lying down with me for a bit? I don’t want the tea, just need your company right now.”

Y/n frowns slightly, and she isn’t sad because she doesn’t want to be with him. What makes her sad is the intimacy of holding him would give her no chance to escape her feelings. Whenever she feels the heartbreak sneaking back up on her, she always finds a way to distract herself from the pain. Whether it was rearranging her bedroom, organizing the books on her bookshelf, or focusing on her work, there was always a way to escape the pain.

But it’s when she feels him—whether it’s the touch of his hand, or a rub of the shoulder—when she feels his skin ignite her and when she feels the warmth of is body against her, there was no running away from the harsh reality she’s been living in. There is no escape from the thought that she’s in love with someone she can never have because all she feels when she feels him is broken.

And it’s in these moments she finds herself being most selfish. Because he needs her now, holding him, reassuring him that everything will be okay. He’s going through the same feeling she is, and all she can think about is her stupid self and her broken heart, even when he needs her most.

She lays down on his couch first, which Harry finds particularly inviting. He lays with his head face down against her neck, legs tangled in between hers with his arms wrapped around her back. He loves cuddling with her. She’s just so soft, and she feels cozy, especially after he drinks heaps of alcohol. He hasn’t cuddled with her for a while, either, and holding her against him now already makes his shitty night somewhat tolerable.

“Thank you for being with me, Y/n” he mumbles against her collar bone, the fabric of her t-shirt moving against his lips. “And I’m sorry I made you drive me back.”

She giggles softly, her fingers brushing through his messy bed of curls. She feels him relax into her the more she rakes his hair, and he doesn’t hesitate to keep her motions going.

“It’s okay, didn’t have any other plans. Besides, I kind of miss being alone with you sometimes.”

He hums in response, pressing his cheek further into her neck. His eyes shut, his body relaxing to the sound of her heartbeat, which he feels thumping perfectly against his chest.

“S’good to me” he mumbles, “don’t know what I’d do without you, you know.”

Y/n feels her heart skip at the words he spoke against her, her whole body getting an overwhelming sense of despondency.

“Harry, I—“

“I think I’m gonna keep fighting for her” Harry interjects.

His voice is slurring now, his half-asleep daze making his words all jumbled. But he knows what he’s saying, and Y/n knows, too, and her heart plummets. Her throat suddenly begins to choke on cries she wasn’t aware had come so quickly. It’s just another reminder, just another confirmation that Savannah always gets what she wants, even if Y/n wants it more.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna give up on her yet. If I like her, I gotta fight for it, right? She’d be well worth it, too.”

Y/n tries desperately to blink away her tears, and she’s forever grateful that the light is off in his living room when she fails to do so.

“I—I think you should do what you want, Harry” her voice shakes as she speaks, “I’ll be here for you either way.”

Harry holds her tighter, humming in response again, because he’s already falling asleep and finds no energy in him to answer her.

She wishes with everything in her that she can scream, scream at him for being so fucking stupid and oblivious to her love. And the worst part is that she can’t even blame him. She had an entire four months where she could have confessed her feelings, where she could have told him how in love with him she was.

But would it have changed anything? Would they have just ended up in this shitty situation anyway?

And it isn’t until Harry’s passed out on top of her, his breath spreading along her chest and his fingers rubbing her back in his slumber that Y/n realizes she could spend forever laying here with him, all wrapped up against his body. She could fall asleep like this every night, after a long day of work and empty wine glasses on the coffee table. She could see everything, everything she’s ever envisioned, with him.

And it’s in this moment she realizes that she can’t keep doing this anymore, either.

Her cheeks dampen with her tears, hands shaking in his hair. Never would she think she’d have to let him go, but seeing his face rest so peacefully on her chest, she knows she has to.

“I love you, Harry.” She cries, her fingers gripping onto the roots of his hair.

God, Harry, I love you so much.” she sobs.

If Harry wasn’t such a deep sleeper, she would have never dreamt of saying all of this. But he’s remaining asleep, lips parted as he snores, the alcohol in his veins making him almost immobile against her.

“You deserve to be happy, Harry” she whispers, “I shouldn’t hold you back.”

Her body is shaking, soft cries leaving her lips and endless tears streaming down her face. She doesn’t want to let go, she doesn’t want to stop loving him in the way she does now. Because even though it hurts, she doesn’t want to imagine a day without him.

But she has to. For him.

Her thumbs rub along his cheekbones, her eyes admiring his features one last time.

“And it’s because I love you—“ she pauses, swallowing thickly as her shaking lips press tentatively against his forehead, “that I have to let you go.”

The Bedroom Mentor

Originally posted by a-marvelous-bean

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader

Request: Hey doll :) I had an idea but I’m not sure if you like it. You’re a recruit for SHIELD and get trained by the Avengers and your Mentor is Bucky. So during the time together you slowly fall in love with each other but you reject him one time cause you don’t want to get in Trouble and leave the Training upset. Later that evening Buck Comes to your room and wants to have a talk with you but he can’t contain himself and you both end up having sex :) then he holds you and asks you to be his ? :) -anon

Warnings: language, smut/unprotected sex (18+), nsfw, some oral (male receiving)

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: I listened to Africa by Toto on repeat while I wrote this whole fic. I don’t really have an explanation why, but it happened. I really enjoyed this three-day break from my first week of school but now it’s back to classes tomorrow. Anyways, feel free to send in more requests! Hope this is what you were lookin’ for!


A few months ago, Nick Fury had hunted you down in the middle of one of your freelance missions and offered you a position working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Naturally, your first instinct was to laugh in his face. Working for him and the organization meant having to abide by someone else’s rules, which, up until that point, you had always taken whatever missions you wanted, and never had to follow any other rules besides your own. But here you are, three months later, lacing up your shoes to get ready to start your training with the Avengers. Each new recruit - no matter how much experience they’ve had prior to joining S.H.I.E.L.D. - is required to go through the training, and are assigned mentors. You haven’t been told who your mentor will be yet, but honestly, you just wanted to get this over with.

You sigh and push up from the bench in the locker room, and saunter down the hallway leading to the training room as you threw your hair up into a quick, tight ponytail. Pushing through the door, you’re greeted by a bright, natural light streaming in through the skylights of the training room, and spot Fury standing near the main entrance.

“Y/N, glad you could join us,” Fury’s sarcastic voice rings out through the air as you jog up to them. You immediately recognize the other man towering behind him as James Buchanan Barnes - the Winter Soldier. Like everyone else on Earth, you were very well aware of who Bucky is - or, more accurately, was. He was strikingly gorgeous. His thick, soft locks of hair were pulled back into a bun, and the scruff on his face made his jawline look even sharper than usual. The tight black t-shirt stretched across his broad chest looked like it could rip if he breathed too deeply, and it was paired with slouching sweatpants and black tennis shoes. The smooth metal of his left arm glistened in the light. You were convinced you had never seen a man more beautiful than him, and you tried your best to brush away the steamy thoughts surfacing in your mind.

Keep reading

percyyoulittleshit  asked:

I write a bad pick up line on your cup every time I’m your barista’ Or ‘Should I be concerned about how much caffeine you’re taking in’ For Percabeth

“Coffee guy has a crush on you,” Piper says without preamble, flicking a page in her reading.

“Uh huh,” Annabeth mutters, dragging a highlighter over a line in her book. It’s only after she’s finished an irritated scribble in the margin that the words really penetrate. She glances up at her friend, who is leaning across the table looking amused. “What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m always ridiculous. And always right. He keeps refilling your coffee.”

Annabeth, who has been lost in a haze of architecture for longer than the hour Piper has been sitting in the cafe with her, has not really been aware of her drink being refilled. She’s reached for her mug when she wanted a drink, and the mug has always had coffee in it. The logical inconsistency between the amount of times she’d reached for the cup and the cup never being empty had not really jumped out at her until now.

“If he’s refilling my coffee and not yours, that just makes him rude.”

“Oh, no. He’s been refilling mine. When you started swearing at your book before, it nearly overflowed, and it wasn’t because he was scandalised.”

Annabeth sighs, refusing to glance over her shoulder at the coffee guy in question. It’s not like she doesn’t already know what he looks like, the guy is six foot tall with a build like an Olympian swimmer and a jawline that could cut glass. She manages to drag her brain to a halt before it starts listing things to compare his eye colour to: Piper is smirking at her reading in a way that suggests she’s learnt how to read minds.

“He was probably impressed with my command of the english language.”

“He was impressed with something, all right.” Piper shuts her folder with a snap. “Right, i’m done here.”

“That reading was fifty-one pages, you’re so full of shit.”

“The fact that you know how long my readings are is terrifying, you know that?”

“Do your homework!”

“Can’t hear you, running away to get a restraining order!” She’s halfway to the door by the time she sing-songs that, leaving Annabeth with her nearly empty coffee mug and a cafe full of people giving her the stink eye.

“If you need an alibi, I can testify that you’ve been here pretty much all day.”

Coffee guy has a nice voice. Warm, smooth, just this side of deep without sounding like the trailer guy. It takes Annabeth an embarrassing amount of time to register that she’s thinking this because he’s standing right next to her, holding a coffee pot. It’s a good thing her self control is world renowned, because she uses all of it to keep from jumping out of her skin.

“What? I - no, she’s joking. We’re friends. Really.”

His grin is distractingly crooked. “I’m convinced.”

“I’m gonna kill her,” Annabeth mutters, hoping against hope that she’s not blushing, or something equally ridiculous.

“That’s probably not going to help in court.”

Her brain is - slowly - retreating out of coffee-and-study survival mode. A joke, she realises belatedly, and the rueful laugh escapes her before she can think to bite it back. And - something in coffee guy’s shoulders relaxes, just a little bit. Nervous, she thinks, and finds herself predisposed to like him. Smart boys know to think very carefully before approaching Annabeth Chase, and that’s the way she likes it.

She tucks an errant curl behind her ear. “I’ll plea insanity. Over-caffeination.” She glances down at her cup. “Actually, would you mind–?”

His face scrunches up with something like concern. “That’ll be your sixth cup.”

“Aren’t you the guy who’s been topping me up?”

“Grover seemed to think you might, I dunno, eat us or something if you ran out. I was protecting the good people of the cafe, but apparently cutting you off means stopping a murder.”

A groan escapes her, something like shame crawling up the back of her throat. Annabeth knows she’s got a serious case of resting bitch face (and she’ll fight anyone who suggests that’s a problem),but she doesn’t want the entire campus to be terrified of her.

Just wary.

“I’m not…actually some hyper-violent lady with a hair-trigger, honestly.”

“Oh hey no, I didn’t mean to–” And he’s groaning? He rubs the back of his neck, which is slowly turning red, and Annabeth starts to feel less off-kilter. “I’m bad at flirting.”

She’s definitely going to murder Piper. This is her fault somehow, Annabeth’s sure.

“Same,” she rushes out, before over-thinking can make this even messier. Her whole body feels energised, jittery, and she doesn’t think it’s the coffee. “Um. Just one more refill? To get me through the last bit of this chapter?”

“Wh - uh, right. Sure!” He squints at her. “You don’t mind?”

Annabeth rocks her mug from side to side, watching the dregs of her drink slosh from side to side. Black, no sugar. It seems like the safer option right now.

She takes a breath.

“Haven’t decided yet,” she says. “I’ll let you know when i’m done with this chapter.”

She’s not looking at him directly, but his grin is wide enough to be seen from space, let alone the corner of her eye.

“You got it,” he says happily, topping her mug off. He’s on the verge of pulling away when he pauses, like he’s remembered something. “It’s Percy, by the way. So you don’t have to keep calling me coffee guy.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Annabeth to seriously reconsider committing that murder.

wicked in her veins.

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, minor hints of sexual tension / demon!jimin

word count: 1,460

prompt: Getting to dress your demon boyfriend up for Halloween

note: october prompts masterlist

“Hell no. Not happening — fucking ever. Not in your wildest dreams, princess.”

His response was immediate as you made your way down the hallway with the costume in hand. The look on his face as he realized the certain… entity that you were holding was beyond priceless. It was of course the exact reaction that you had been expecting. His brows furrowed while his top lip curled in disgust, the physically aversive response to something as simple as a Halloween costume only causing your amusement to run thicker. No, not even your boyfriend’s harsh refusal could deter your mood, or your powers of persuasion for that matter.

“Oh, is that so?” You replied to Jimin, your brow arched in a way that told him how so far from over this conversation was. “I seem to remember that a certain someone lost a bet to me a few weeks ago? Remember that game of poker? The deal was—”

“—This is what you want to use your win from that on? Baby, c’mon anything else. You’re not this evil, I know you aren’t… Are you?” He was pleading a little, his bottom lip jutting out to try and tug at your heartstrings. Admittedly you felt a tiny pull, but it was quickly overtaken by the image of Jimin wearing the costume that was still dangling from the hanger in your hand.

Your mouth curved into a sultry smile as you made your way closer to him. He was sitting down on the living room couch, a look of despair flooding his eyes as he realized that there was no way in hell that you were backing down from this. You sat the costume onto the open space next to Jimin, his reaction a harsh flare of his nose. However, the tension soon dropped as you went to straddle his lap, your hands swiftly moving to take their place on either side of his face.

“You know, I really thought that a demon would be a lot better at a game all about lying and deceit.”

Keep reading

All the reasons I loved this latest Chris and Eva clip:

Brace yourselves, cause this is going to be a looong list. I’m sorry but I’m too far gone for my OTP to care about much else today.

* The way he touches her face in the beginning of the clip.

*Chris’ wide grin plus Eva’s sleepy smile. Honestly, the chemistry between those two is unreal, even in small moments like this.

*“Did you sleep well?” “Mhm.” The whole Jonas and Eva vs Eva and Chris parallel here. Jonas pretty much said that he had a nightmare in which Eva was a whore and CHRIS TOLD EVA THAT HE HAD A DREAM WHERE EVA WAS HIS GIRLFRIEND. Ugh.

*Also, the whole dream was totally made up and I have a feeling that Eva knew it. And she knows how whipped she has him and just…Eva is goals as usual.

* Wow, damn. Another one of Chris Schistad’s reaction gifs is born.

* I honestly feel like Chris is trying to remember his lines when he is talking about his “dream”. And Eva is so amused CAUSE SHE KNOWS.

* He is such a certified nerd while telling that stupid story.

* Chris’ reaction when Eva told him that his dream wasn’t real tho. He was all: “say what now?”

* Eva: “we’re never going to be together” Eva: *smiles* Chris: *tries not to look like somebody just stabbed him and fails*

* “Why not?” I can see that you’re internally crying, Chris. God, the dialogue is gold.

* The way Chris repeats Eva’s words back to her. Such a small thing but mad cute.

*Also, I have such huuuge respect for Eva. She still acknowledges that Chris was a fuckboy in the past and she smiles again when saying it, and it’s so playful, and Eva knows that Chris is in love with her but she’s still protecting her heart and is being reasonable about it all and just…where can I find an Eva?

*Also, telling a guy whose currently naked in your bed that he’s a cheating fuckboy, is NEXT LEVEL.

* The way Eva almost immediately stops kissing Chris, because someone’s calling her. She. Always. Puts. Her. Friends. First.

* When Eva answers Vilde’s call and we can actually see how hurt Chris is over the fact that Eva doesn’t want to be his girlfriend.

* Also, the way he runs his hand over his face is like saying: “damn I messed up with that fake dream I told her about oops”

* When Eva tells Vilde that she is doing nothing special, and Chris looks like he’s about to cry. That boy is so in love, I can’t put it into words.

* All the longing looks towards Eva while she’s talking on the phone!!!

* Eva: “But maybe I can call you later or something.” Queue Chris’ whole face lighting up.

* Chris: “We were talking about getting together.” Lol, smooth.

* That boy has lost all his game and just wants to be together with Eva. Who’s crying? Certainly not me.

* THE PLAYFULNESS.

* The fact that Chris isn’t pressuring her into anything but just wants them to be together but he isn’t pushy about it. I honestly don’t know where the Noorhell shippers get their ideas, when they compare Mohnstad and Noorhell.

* ANOTHER JONAS AND EVA vs CHRIS AND EVA PARALLEL.

* When Eva tried to push Chris off her bed and he didn’t budge an inch, that was a sign.

* I just love how Chris is still his old self on some level, so self-confident and just doesn’t understand why he has to hide.

* Eva being determined not to introduce Chris, so the boy gets up, wraps a sheet over himself, and is just like: “Hi. I’m Chris.”

* Your name is also Chris? ANOTHER ONE, WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE.

* I just noticed that Eva rolls her eyes when Chris is talking to her mum, oh wow. I love this girl.

* When Eva’s mum says that she wasn’t aware that Eva had a boyfriend and Chris looks like he is finally sure Eva will confirm their relationship now but she DOES NOT.

* Also, Chris was totally happy to meet her mum, you can’t tell me otherwise.

* “We’re not together.” “Not yet”

* Eva’s mum’s “you’ll figure it out” is basically the whole fandom’s reaction to this clip.

* Also, all the smiles and the banter in the end of this clip, what can I say, Mohnstad just naturally gravitate towards each other.

* Chris: “Love me.” Honestly, what kind of desperation.

In conclusion: this was the clip of dreams that I never thought I’d see.

i’m sure this has been done. but. eh.

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Neil says.

Andrew looks away from the road to Neil, and then back again.

“They’re not,” Neil attempts.

The only reason Neil finally agreed to go to the dentist was because of the threat of being benched by the coaches. Not because the pain has been affecting his playing - of course it hasn’t - but because everyone on the team is sick of him holding and rotating his jaw all the time, obviously in pain but completely unwilling to admit it.

“You do as the doctors say now,” Andrew says, a reminder of an old agreement made back when Neil first went pro. Neil’s innate distrust in people wasn’t ever going to be a good enough reason for him to be stupid in regards to medical care when he was out of Abby’s hands. Andrew would like to think that now they’re on the same team he would have slightly more sway over Neil, but that’s never really been the case.

“He’s not a doctor.” The level of scorn in Neil’s voice is truly impressive. 

“Medical professional, then.” Andrew imagines the look on the dentist’s face as hearing Neil’s real opinion of him.

“Lots of people keep their wisdom teeth,” Neil says. “You still have yours.”

Andrew’s aren’t growing sideways out of his skull and threatening to crowd all his other teeth together. The term the dentist had used for Neil’s was ‘severely impacted’. He’d referred Neil to a maxillofacial surgeon and said that Neil would be lucky if they could be removed under sedation rather than a general anaesthetic. 

“I know,” Andrew says, rather than attempting a logical argument. There’s really no point.

“What?”

“I know, it’s hard to believe that my mouth really is bigger than yours,” Andrew says.


The threat of benching works well enough to get Neil to the surgeon, which is unsurprising to anyone who actually knows Neil. He’s calm and unafraid all day, except for the piercing look he gives Andrew in the moments before he’s ushered away.

“There’s a quiet waiting room just through here,” someone says, indicating a door. “You would be amazed how ill people have to be before they stop considering asking for an autograph.”

It’s been a while since anyone over the age of about sixteen asked Andrew for an autograph - the older ones got the idea eventually - but the offer of a quiet place to not be stared at isn’t anything to be sniffed at. Andrew goes through the door and takes a spot on a chair next to the window with a clear view of the door.

His fingers itch for a cigarette. He reaches for his phone instead.

Social media isn’t of much interest to him, so he spends a good half-hour reading news articles spiralling into scientific studies and then into the rabbit hole of wikipedia. He’s not sure quite how long it’s been when a knock at the door interrupts him from the page he’s reading on Indian mathematics.

Someone in scrubs puts her head through the door. “Mister Minyard? Neil is in recovery now. You can come sit with him.”

Andrew stands and follows her quick bustle of a walk, putting his phone in his pocket as he goes. The nurse is chatting as speedily as she walks. “Once he’s more awake and we know for sure he’s feeling himself he can be discharged. He’s a little quiet right now, but he asked for you before.”

She ushers him into a private room - another perk of being professional athletes - with a smile. 

Neil is lying on his back on the bed with his eyes closed, but he opens them when he hears Andrew sitting in the chair at his side. He looks a little like a chipmunk with the gauze stuffed in his cheeks, his jaw swollen enough that it’s grotesquely square rather than its usual fine-angled shape.

“Hey,” Andrew says.

He’s not necessarily expecting chattiness, but he is expecting an answer. Instead Neil just stares at him. His eyes are very large, as are his pupils.

“Hi,” he says eventually. He sounds exactly like he’s talking through a mouthful of cotton. The nurse comes in and fiddles with the blood pressure cuff on his arm, and Neil rolls his head around to watch her doing it.

“I’m just going to squash your arm again, okay?” she says, with the manner of someone talking to a child or an adult who is exceptionally out of their mind on drugs.

Neil doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then comes out with, “This is Andrew.”

The nurse flicks Andrew a look and a small smile. “We met, actually. He was waiting outside for you.”

“He’ll always wait for me,” Neil tells her, matter-of-fact. “He’s my partner.”

The nurse’s expression doesn’t change much, but it’s only through power of will, Andrew suspects. She looks like she would love to laugh. “That’s really nice of him.”

“Yeah,” Neil sighs warmly. He’s pathetic. 

“I would have recognised him anyway,” the nurse says, still looking amused. “I’m a Rebels fan.”

Neil, who is the biggest Rebels fan in the city, does something that might have been a half-smile if it weren’t for the current state of his face. Then it falls off. Mournfully, he says, “I can’t play this week.”

“No, but you’ll be back out there before you know it,” the nurse comforts. Her name tag says ‘Helen’ and has a yellow flower on it. “Are you playing, Andrew?”

“He’s the starting goalie,” Neil says before Andrew can say anything, almost making it to sounding affronted. Mostly he just sounds loopy. Andrew has never seen him have so many emotional shifts in thirty seconds before.

“I thought he might be stuck looking after you,” Helen replies. “I know what athletes are like.”

“I can look after myself.” That’s a very Neil answer, and also a complete lie. Andrew is banking on Neil being too miserable to want to come to the game in two days, because otherwise he’ll be on the bench in all his swollen-faced glory.

“I’m sure you can,” Helen says, and pats him on the shoulder condescendingly. Neil doesn’t notice at all. “I’ll come back in fifteen minutes and see how you’re doing.”

She bustles back out again, closing the door behind her gently. Neil sighs and rolls onto his side, muttering something indecipherable when the blood pressure cuff gets pulled tight under his body. It doesn’t sound pleased, and it’s definitely not in any language Andrew recognises.

Neil raises his unrestrained hand towards Andrew. It swerves a little in the air. “Can I?”

“Yes,” Andrew says. He’s expecting Neil to take his hand, but he doesn’t flinch when Neil reaches for his face instead. What he currently lacks in coordination he makes up for in gentleness, but Andrew closes his eyes anyway to lower the risk of losing one to a poorly-aimed finger.

“You look weird,” Neil mutters.

You look weird,” Andrew tells him, mostly because it’s true, partly to see Neil wrinkle his nose at him.

“Do not,” Neil replies. He pats Andrew’s cheek, and then gets distracted by Andrew’s hair. That’s not unusual, to be fair, though the level of concentration he’s giving it is. “Hey.”

“Yes?”

“Hey.” More insistently this time, like he doesn’t already have Andrew’s full attention. He tugs Andrew’s hair. 

Never let it be said Andrew can’t take a hint. He lowers himself onto his elbows on the edge of the bed and puts his forehead to Neil’s. Even though they’re at odd angles, Neil sighs in satisfaction. His eyelashes flutter against Andrew’s temple, fingers stroking idly over the arch of Andrew’s ear.

“Good,” he mutters, seemingly to himself.

They stay like that, Andrew’s chin pillowed on the starchy sheets and his forehead likely leaving an imprint on Neil’s fairer skin. Neil dozes, hand going lax, and Andrew closes his eyes and thinks in circles for a little while about the Bakhshali Manuscript.

Another knock at the door makes him raise his head. Neil’s eyes flash open, and then he blinks like he’s reeling a little. His fingers have fallen to Andrew’s wrist, and they tighten for a split-second before dropping away.

“Hi again,” Helen says gently. “Let’s get a look at you, Neil.”

Andrew moves aside and lets her at him, ignoring the disgruntled sound this earns from the bed. Neil is distracted quickly by Helen extracting the arm with the cuff from under his body and taking his blood pressure again, before removing it and making him sit up. Then she leaves, and returns with clothes and a clipboard. The clothes she leaves for Neil to attempt to put on. The clipboard she gives to Andrew.

“Rather than it turning out as a discharge form as signed by Alexander Pushkin,” she explains with a shrug. It’s fine, Andrew is all over Neil’s paperwork these days. He flips through the notes and signs in the right places then hands the board back, and gets a sheet of discharge instructions in its place.

“I’ll leave you guys for a sec and sort things,” she says, and does just that. It leaves Andrew to subtly ensure that Neil puts all his clothes on the right body parts. He’s looking less high but still dazed, his eyes hooded but his face pulling tighter. In the fall down, he’s always uncomfortably aware of the abnormality of being out of control of himself. Years later that hasn’t changed. Andrew isn’t surprised.

“You’re good to go,” Helen tells Neil when she returns, and then says to Andrew, “Good luck!”

He would like to think, as he manoeuvres Neil out, that she means for the game on Friday. It’s not likely, though.

Neil falls asleep against the window on the drive home. Andrew prods him awake so he can walk himself into the elevator, where he sags against the wall, and then into the apartment. He shuffles into the bedroom, still making gentle smooching noises at Sir and King as he winds himself into the duvet. He’s out ten seconds later.

Andrew watches for a moment while King curls up beside him and Sir gently begins to groom his hair, and then retreats to the balcony for a cigarette.


Andrew has relocated inside to the couch by the time he hears stirring from the bedroom a few hours later. The Neil who emerges is rumpled but sleepy in a normal sense rather than because of lingering sedation.

He lowers himself gently onto the cushion beside Andrew, and then even more slowly lowers his head down onto Andrew’s thighs.

“Painkillers?” Andrew offers. The discharge notes included strict instructions on dosage and timing, but Neil’s been asleep long enough to be due another couple of pills.

“In a minute,” Neil mumbles, like he’s trying to move his jaw as little as possible. He pats Andrew on the shin. “Stay.”

In an hour Neil’s going to be pissed off and probably a little anxious, wanting to move but knowing he can’t, irritated by the pain. But for now, it’s pretty easy to read a book and play pillow while Neil rests.

I Can't Take It!

            “I can’t bloody take it anymore!” Were the words screamed in Draco’s face as he opened the door. He blinked rapidly at the fuming redhead in front of him. Weasley. That was someone he hadn’t seen in years, not since the final battle.

            “Excuse you?” Draco reprimanded with an arched brow. He honestly had no idea what was happening here. He must have mixed up his ingredients when making his potion this morning, causing a severe hallucination. Because that was the only explanation his mind could come up with at the moment.

            “At first, I thought I was just delusional, seeing things where there was nothing but I know I’m not.”

            Draco blinked rapidly as he too concluded the man was delusional. Something he had always known to be true.

            “You keep writing books about Harry!”

            Every rational thought left the blonde as dread filled his stomach. There was no way that Weasley had figured it out. His mother was blissfully unaware of who his muse was, his friends were just as clueless, all wondering who could possibly be the one he was desperately pining after. The whole world was blind but yet Weasley had discovered his secret?

            “Don’t give me that look!” Weasley spat hotly. “It’s just so obvious. I don’t understand why no one but me thinks so! I see your stupid books everywhere. Witches giggle in their offices at work, completely engrossed in your horribly sappy novels.” A pause as a freckled nose wrinkled in disgust.

            “I can’t go into Diagon Alley without seeing your ugly face plastered from every window, advertising this travesty.”

            Ugly? Draco huffed angrily as he listened somewhat impatiently to the hogwash spewing out of Weasley’s mouth.

            “My own wife reads them and badgers me incessantly about reading them too!”

            That had Draco wincing, he wasn’t sure how he felt about Granger reading his works. It was a little uncomfortable, if he was being honest.

            “I can’t even go to my parents without seeing your entire collection stacked against the wall. My mother reads them!” A pitiful moan escaped. “My own mum!”

            A trickle of amusement was making its way inside of Draco. Oh, he was still annoyed and ticked off but seeing Weasley in so much distress because of him, was lifting his spirits.

            “I have put up with this for years and I can’t take it anymore!” Weasley took a step forward, which Draco was loath to admit made him want to take a step back. The man was clearly mental.

            “You have to tell Harry how you feel.” Begged the disturbed wanker. “I can’t take another novel. I can’t take the pining! I can’t take the whining! I can’t take another fucking thing! If I have to listen to one more person tell me how ‘wonderfully heartbreaking’ your stories are, I will either murder you, Harry or myself.” A pause. “And I can’t honestly tell you which one of us is at the forefront of that. Perhaps I will kill us all and be done with it.”  

            Threats weren’t something new to Draco but this was the first time he had been on the receiving end of one done so vehemently.

            “I’m an Auror.” Weasley unnecessarily reminded him, as if he hadn’t been aware of this. “I know how to murder someone and make it appear as an accident. They’ll never find your body.” The sheer conviction in the promise was almost staggering.

            Draco rolled his eyes as he looked to the sky, debating about hexing the crazy redhead.

            “Are you finished?” He drawled with an exaggerated yawn, hoping to get rid of Weasley.

            Blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “You know what is the worst part of all of this?”

            The question was obviously rhetorical but Draco shook his head anyways, hoping this would be the last thing said on the topic.

            “Harry loves your books.”

            Draco’s breath caught in his throat as he swallowed heavily and looked away from Weasley for the first time.

            “He talks about them constantly, mentions his favorite parts, grins goofily as he reads your novels in public. Every single book is handled with care and patience. He adores them and you by extension.”

            Words had long ago left Draco, he didn’t know what to say at all. Couldn’t think of anything. For someone who made a living off of words and formulating beautiful lines, this was almost embarrassing.

            “I don’t like you.” Weasley continued on. “Never have and might not ever will.”

            Again, Draco rolled his eyes. The feeling was entirely mutual.

            “But.” The man whispered softly. “It’s painfully obvious that you love Harry.” Blue eyes searched his and Draco felt as if his blackened soul was being judged.  

            “The things you write deserve to be said not just written. Harry deserves this, deserves this kind of attention and deserves the love you put into those stupid pages.” There was a slight reddening of Weasley’s cheeks. It was obvious he despised complimenting Draco on his books.

            “Just do something. Please. While I can’t take another one of your books, I really can’t take Harry’s self-deprecating responses as to why it just isn’t possible that he is the target of your obsession.”

            He would have liked to rudely point out that it wasn’t an obsession but he was distracted with the rest of the statement.

            Weasley took a deep sigh. “Just think about it.” As violently as the conversation began, it ended with a soft whisper and pleading eyes.

            Draco watched Weasley walk slowly away from his front door, so slowly that it was obvious he was hoping to be called back.

            This was life changing. He could slam the door and pretend that this whole disaster had been a hallucination and never think about it again… or he could take a Gryffindor plunge into bravery and do what the characters in his books do, which was get their man.

            “Weasley!” Draco called out, making his decision. “Get your horrid arse back here.”

            The way red brows arched, silently asking for more, had Draco huffing. Who knew the man was a sadist too?

           “Help me ensnare a Gryffindor.“

           A frighteningly wicked grin appeared on the redhead’s face, causing Draco to question if he had just sold away his soul to a starving Dementor. Merlin, help him. 


If you are interested in the rest of the story, part two and three are finished. Or if you would like to just skip ahead to the completed story, here you go

Part TwoPart Three   ,  A03 Author Page 

I Wanna Be Yours [Tate Langdon x Reader]

Requests: “I’m actually not into fluff (give me all the smut), but you write some about Tate drawing reader (or the other way around)? I think of him, even though he is popular for his music taste, more as a painter than musician. Love your writings xoxo” - Anon 

“Can you do a kinky Tate imagine ;)” - Anon

“Can you do a post-death Tate Langdon smut please? I love your imagines btw! 😊” - Anon

“girl reader smuts pls. idrc who with:)” - Anon

“Hey! Love your blog by the way! Do you think you can do another Tate Langdon smut fic? I would love that 💕💕” - @gabygarcia5

Warnings: SIN, NOT PROOFREAD (at all), SMUT, FEM!READER, not proofread, blowjob, swallowing cum, spanking, dirty talk, rough sex, slight daddy kink, begging kink, unprotected sex (again), sorta OOC Tate, Reader is aware Tate is dead, tbh probably more

Word Count: 1.2k 

A/N: I’m going to hell. It’s fine, though, because you’re all going to be there with me. 

(This gets weird towards the end, I know. I stayed up until like 5am last night to finish this so I could post it today. Don’t judge me. This whole thing is just a mess though tbh. & it’s not proofread like I barely read the damn thing when I wrote it, so let me know about any errors.)

Keep reading