can i please be one of you when i grow up

that interview with Zach Sang is probably the best interview BTS’s has had since coming to the US for the AMAs. like, Zach obviously did his research and he didn’t ask petty questions like ‘who is your celebrity crush?’ instead what he did were:

  • he actually asked questions the boys’ wanted to answer and you could see that they’re very comfortable. 
  • yoongi even spoke up a couple of times and joked about making it to the billboard
    zs: what was your dream growing up? like, when you first realized that you wanted to sing. what was your end goal? what did you wanna see yourself do?
    yg: go the billboard. i made it <laughs>
  • he talked about how BTS’ music embodies change and the belief of the next generation and that even when their songs are in Korean they’re proving that music is w/o borders wHICH IS ONLY WHAT NAMJOON HAS BEEN TALKING ABOUT EVERYTIME SOME IDIOT ASKS THEM ABOUT RELEASING AN ENGLISH SONG
  • he did his research about the history of their songs and their lyrics and Namjoon legit sounded surprised when Zack reference their earlier lyrics of studying and being turned into working machine bECAUSE SHIT SO FAR HE’S THE ONLY INTERVIEWER WHO TALKED ABOUT IT
  • instead of talking about how the boy’s are dealing with the glitz and glamor of being a celebrity/idol, he asked about how they deal with the pressure of being idols and basically being looked up to by their fans and how do they deal with it (of course he mentioned about the glitz and glamor of being a celebrity but that it’s just material and he asked them how they stay in touch with themselves)
  • he understand that BTS’ journey isn’t an easy one and he knows what their work is all about calling them ‘socially charged since the beginning’
  • HE’S THE ONLY ONE WHO ASKED ABOUT THEIR UNICEF WORK SO FAR and you could practically see the boys light up at the question. they all smiled and nodded and Namjoon thanked him and enthusiastically discussed about their UNICEF #EndViolence campaign
  • he asked them about how they remind themselves to love their selves and not as BTS - which for me is a very relevant and good question bc so far all we see people ask them is ‘how does it feel like to be one of the biggest boy bands in the world??’
  • the boys are comfortable enough to answer in Korean and let Namjoon translate for them unlike in the other interviews where they really struggle to speak in english for the interviewer (but idk. maybe that’s just me)
  • yg: please don’t compare yourself with others
    jh: finding my dreams and something that i really want to achieve is the best way to love myself
    nj: simply just call yourself (…) if i’m zach i’ll tell myself ‘zach, you’re doing just great. zach, i love you.’ pat your shoulder 3x a day. that can change you.’
  • he asked them if anybody in the group has the goal of learning english and everyone is just like ‘of course!’ (suga said ‘why not?’ V was very cute raising his hand and saying ‘me!’ and jhope sang the english alphabet. omg these boys.)
  • namjoon said they’re practicing and studying and memorizing words for the interviews and he’s really very, very proud of them.  (◡‿◡✿)
  • ZACH TOLD THEM TO JUST KEEP RELEASING MUSIC IN KOREAN because BTS is connecting people through music, telling the same struggles and experiences wherever they may be, and it’s a Big Deal.
  • He thanks BTS for their UNICEF work, telling them it’s very appreciated that the boys are working towards making the world a safer place and Namjoon legit said he’s the first one to ask them about their UNICEF campaign and said they’re so touched.

THANK YOU ZACH SANG!!! 

LANCE’S VLOG

Player boy stereotype? Or something else entirely: A look into gender stereotypes and crushes

So, believe me I hear you: The worry of Lance being a flirt and being the only Latinx main character is real, valid and necessary. That is NOT what this meta is about. This meta will cover another facet of Lance: his experience with flirtation and crushing, not so much the flirting itself. I think this meta will help you see, there was more to the vlog than you might have thought at first!

analysis under the cut!

Keep reading

I want you to want me

“Wait, no, let’s take the other corridor.”

“But that will take so much longer!”

“I don’t care. Come on!”

Draco ignored Pansy’s pouting and dragged her along. What were the teachers thinking, hanging up all these mistletoes around the castle? There were so many, it was so hard to avoid them all. Also, it was only November 17th! Couldn’t they at least have waited until December?

Cursing under his breath, Draco turned to the corridor that was still mistletoe-free. Well, at least it had been this morning.

“Oh, come on,” Draco groaned as he suddenly found himself and Pansy standing beneath a gigantic ladder. Filch was on top of it, fumbling with the fateful plant Draco had come to loathe.

Since he was a child, he had been very superstitious. Ignoring the mistletoe wouldn’t do it. It was bad luck. And Pansy knew this very well, judging from her smug expression. She had been taught the same by her parents, but, unlike Draco, she chose to try her luck. At least she usually did.

“Well, go on,” she said, grinning at him. Exhaling loudly, Draco pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled.

“I’m waiting.” Pansy’s grin only widened when Draco huffed and blew his hair out of his face.

“Alright, alright.” He leaned over to her reluctantly, but panicked, when she suddenly closed her eyes. She couldn’t be serious! Dear Merlin! Hastily, he planted his lips on her left cheek and immediately started walking again. There! Surely that would count!

“Hey! Draco,” he heard Pansy call after him. Nope, he would keep walking! He would keep walking and avoid these bloody mistletoes this time! Getting back to the Slytherin common room couldn’t be that impossible!

“… no, I remember you specifically told me- Ouch!”

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” Rubbing his nose, Draco glowered at the person he had just collided with. The Weasel. With Granger in tow. Magnificent!

You bumped into me,” Weasley said in an accusing tone.

“Whatever, Weasel! Now get out of my-”

“Oh, mistletoe,” Granger interrupted him, pointing at the ceiling.

You’ve got to be kidding me!

Draco looked up, then back at the other two standing in front of him. Oh, damn it!

“Come on, let’s just go,” Granger said, taking Weasley’s hand.

“We can’t,” he whispered. “We have to kiss.” Granger rolled her eyes at him, but Weasley’s face turned serious. “No, we really have to kiss. It’s bad luck if we don’t.”

Huh. Weasley wasn’t as dumb as he looked after all. With an exasperated sigh, Granger pulled him down and kissed him for much longer than was necessary. When Draco cleared his throat, they finally stopped.

“What, you want one, too?” Weasley asked, arching his eyebrows.

“Well, I was standing under the damn thing, too, wasn’t I?”

Understanding hit Weasley’s face and Draco would have loved to take a step forward and slap him. His dumb face was just so infuriating. Before Draco could do anything, however, Granger shoved her boyfriend and he stumbled forward.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Weasley asked, turning his head.

“Well, obviously, you two are the ones with the superstitions. And I already kissed you, so you can go and kiss him.” The way she said it was so nonchalant, it made Draco gape at ther. Okay, so he definitely didn’t want to kiss her. But did she understand how revolting it would be to kiss the Weasel? Well, of course not. She did it willingly. On a regular basis. Yuck!

When Weasley turned back around to Draco, his face was so pale, Draco thought he might faint.

“Ugh, let’s just get this over with,” Draco murmured.

“No, please, Hermione, no, please don’t make me do this!”

“I’m not making you do anything! You were the one who said you have to kiss under the mistletoe.”

“She’s right,” Draco said through gritted teeth. He closed the gap between them and wrinkled his nose. “Just… hold still.” Draco placed both his hands on Weasley’s shoulders and tried to ignore the way his bottom lip was quivering. His lips looked very chapped.This was going to be worse than he had thought!

If he hadn’t already cheated when he had kissed Pansy on the cheek, Draco would have done the same with Weasley. But he couldn’t cheat fate twice in one day! Ugh!

Just a quick peck. Light. Very light. Lips barely touching. Yeah, that wouldn’t be so bad, right? Ugh, if only it weren’t Weasley!

“Merlin, Malfoy, just do it already,” Weasley groaned. Clicking his tongue once, Draco stood up on his toes and gave Weasley the quickest kiss in history of all kisses.

“Ugh! Now excuse me, I need to go wash my mouth,” Draco declared and started hurrying off.

“Ron. Ron? Are you okay? Are you crying? Oh, you’re gagging. Come on, stop it!” Granger’s voice slowly died down behind him as Draco ran down the stairs to the Dungeons. No, wait, he couldn’t walk down that corridor. There were at least three bunches of mistletoe down there. The one on the left had only one. That he knew of. And he’d have to walk through half the castle again. But one was still better than three. Okay then.

As he walked, Draco kept his eyes to the ceiling. He wouldn’t let himself get into another situation like that. Yuck! Weasley! Disgusting! He’d probably never forget it. November 17th, the day he had kissed Ron Weasley. Why? Why??

He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and began running when he spied the bunch of mistletoe he had been dreading. Luckily, no one else was in the corridor. Heaving a sigh of relief, Draco slowed down when he suddenly heard footsteps approaching.

“Potter!” Draco narrowed his eyes. “Wandering the corridors all alone?”

Why couldn’t it have been Potter? Why couldn’t he have bumped into him under the mistletoe? This really wasn’t fair! Draco was doing everything, but still he had the worst luck! This was just infuriating! And honestly, it was kind of Potter’s fault he’d had to endure kissing Weasley. If Potter had been with his stupid friends, it might have gone very differently.

“Why aren’t you with the rest of your little trio? Tired of being the third wheel?”

Potter blinked.

“I am, actually.”

“Oh.”

This was no fun when Potter was being honest.

“What about you? You look a bit ill. Are you okay?”

Draco tried very hard not to think about his lips touching Weasley’s. This would probably haunt him for a very long time. Instead, he rolled his eyes.

“How sweet. Nice to know the Saviour cares.”

Potter was about to respond, when his gaze fell to the ground.

“What’s that?”

Draco followed Potter’s gaze and almost choked. Was that mistletoe? Growing, actually growing out of the cobblestone while they were standing there? But mistletoe usually grew on trees!

“You can’t be serious,” Draco muttered. This was insane. But… he was with Potter. This would be the perfect opportunity to steal a kiss without having to reveal his feelings for the stupid git. “Ugh, can this day get any worse?” Draco moaned. Yes, yes, act like this is the worst thing that could have happened right now! He watched as Potter slowly examined the plant.

“Is that…”

“Yeah,” Draco said, trying to sound as displeased as possible.

“Oh.”

There was a brief silence, in which they both avoided the other’s eyes.

“Well, since we’re not exactly standing under it… Let’s just ignore it,” Potter babbled. Draco’s heart fell. This was his opportunity! Why was Potter being so difficult?

“We can’t just ignore it. It’s bad luck,” he mumbled. He felt so stupid. Potter was probably seeing right through him. From the corner of his eyes he saw the Gryffindor shuffling his feet, while his eyes were still glued to the ground.

“That’s just some stupid superstition, isn’t it?” Potter said with an arched brow.

“It’s not,” Draco insisted. “People… people have died after ignoring it.” It was utter bollocks. And Potter probably knew it. Draco considered just walking away. Potter was right, they weren’t standing under the mistletoe, so the rules probably didn’t apply here.

“Oh.” Potter paused while Draco suppressed the urge to kick the mistletoe.  “Well, if it’s that serious… we better not risk it.”

Draco’s head snapped up. What? Had Potter just… What?

Keep reading

“Watch your head, Krav,” says Magnus.

“You’re taller than I am,” Kravitz points out, amused, but he ducks as he moves into Magnus’s study. 

The scent of fresh-brewed tea and scones waft with them up the stairs. Higher in the house pervades the scent of raw wood, lending the top floor a permanent earthy smell, accompanied nicely by the food cooking downstairs. There’s another picture on the wall. It’s tucked between the image of Taako and Kravitz on their wedding day and Carey and Killian on theirs. (Magnus was best man for both.) The new one is of Angus, playing catch with Magnus: it’s composed of thick, dark strokes, clearly sketched in Lucretia’s hand, and the frame is of hand-wrought oak, the same oak of the trees surrounding Magnus’s home.

“Here we go!” Magnus says, retrieving the letter with a pleased a-ha!, and handing the letter to Kravitz. “For Julia.”

Kravitz accepts the letter with a reassuring nod, tucks it in the pocket of his suit. There are creases around the corners of this pocket where he’s tucked a letter in there hundreds of times before.  

Angus is teaching Magnus to write more neatly, to line his letters correctly, where to use commas and where to use periods instead. Kravitz never reads Magnus’s letters, but Angus tells him that Magnus makes excellent progress. 

The invitations to his and Taako’s wedding were written in Magnus’s own, painstaking hand.

Magnus shuts the drawer and says, almost absently, “Tell her I love her, okay?”

Kravitz pauses, debating. He takes a deep breath. “Magnus,” he says, and Magnus, detecting the shift in his tone, looks up immediately. “You know that she already knows, right? She knows that you love her,” Kravitz says gently. “You do tell her every time.”

Magnus chuckles, rubbing a sheepish hand along the back of his neck. “I know,” he says, turning a bit pink. “I just - I love her, you know? I really do. And I guess, when you love someone, you want to tell them that every chance you get.”

Kravitz thinks of Taako. Kravitz finds himself nodding, then finds himself blushing as well at Magnus’s knowing look. “I suppose you’re right,” Kravitz concedes.

Magnus smiles, gaze drifting to the picture-laden wall. The entire wall is pocketed with dozens of pictures of his family, all smiling back at him. “I can’t wait to tell her myself,” he says, voice wistful.

Kravitz stiffens. He struggles to find words. “Magnus….”

The hesitation in Kravitz’s tone breaks Magnus out of his reverie, and he laughs. “Don’t worry, Krav. I don’t look forward to dying anymore,” he says, and gestures around his home with one hand, the other clasping his Stone of Farspeech, a small smile suffusing his face. The smell of tea and scones drifts lightly around them, the burnished afternoon light cheery as it dapples off the wall. “I’ve got too much to live for.”

“Good,” Kravitz says, and means it. Magnus slings a companionable arm over his shoulder as they head back down the stairs, and after so long in the man’s company it’s a comfortable weight.

“Do make sure you tell her though, yeah?”

Kravitz laughs, a glint of humor in his eye. “Ten years and I’ve never failed you once,” he says, and Magnus chuckles at that.

“I know, I know,” he says, and his smile softens. “But I can’t tell her myself, so I’m entrusting it to you.”

He pats Magnus’s hand reassuringly as they reenter the kitchen. “Okay,” Kravitz promises, smiling quietly. “I will.”


Taako doesn’t believe in words. Words are too easily manipulated, he claims, and his manner of speaking reflects that: he is flippant, his inflections curling up with indifference. It’s not often that he makes promises or declarations with solemnity. 

So when he says I love you Kravitz treasures it, not because it is a sacrifice, but because it is an absolute truth - it’s an admission of trust, that Taako loves him enough to hand over a part of his very soul and know that Kravitz will care for it, gently.

For a while Kravitz wondered, because Taako doesn’t say it often - not nearly as often as Magnus, who says it every time Kravitz retrieves this month’s letter. Then he realized: Taako cooks. He says I love you all the time; he just doesn’t use words. His affection goes into the pot roast that Magnus marks as his favorite, the perfectly-grilled salmon that Kravitz loves, the oolong-and-scones for Merle and the cinnamon-chocolate cookies for his sister, because Lup loves peanut butter but Barry is allergic.

In this regard, Kravitz is more similar to Magnus than he thought. Magnus, brave and brash Magnus - when he’s not crushing people in an embrace, or slinging a casual arm around them, or letting them rest a head on his shoulder, or pulling them into a noogie reminiscent of a bear’s iron grasp - sticks with his tried-and-true “I love you,” which he says with such painful earnestness that he leaves no room for doubt. 

Where Magnus says those three words, Kravitz says “Thank you.”

Thank you, to Taako, for the salmon. Thank you, to Lup and Barry, for a tirade of relentless jokes after a long week of reaping. Thank you, to Merle, for the nuggets of wisdom he dispels and the return of Kravitz’s green thumb. Thank you, to Magnus, for the hand-crafted piano that is their living room’s crowning jewel.


Magnus’s wall is full, now. His pictures spill over to the opposite wall, ringing the window that leads to the field outside, where Angus and Johann scamper around the yard. The most recent addition is a group photo of the Starblaster crew at Merle’s beach bar. Twenty years after the Day of Story and Song, Lucretia and Davenport are arm-in-arm.

He hands Kravitz a letter. His handwriting is smoother these days, but he retains the thick lines that demonstrate just how similarly Magnus wields a pen and an axe. Before Magnus can say anything, Kravitz stops him.

“Thank you,” he says.

Magnus looks up, a smile on his face that suggests he knows exactly what Kravitz means. “What for?”

And Kravitz says, simply: “Everything.”


Magnus dies surrounded by family, smiling.

In the white space between life and death, Kravitz steps forward and outstretches an arm. Magnus accepts it gratefully. He’s as young as the day Kravitz first met him.

Kravitz leads him beyond, gently, easing the passing as much as he can. Magnus slings an arm around Kravitz’s shoulder as they go. They step onto an island, a cottage that is familiar to Kravitz. Kravitz can hear barking inside, as he always does, and Magnus steps forward, about to rush in, and -

stops.

“Kravitz.”

Kravitz turns. “Yes?”

Magnus looks at the cottage for a long, long moment. Already, his eyes grow red, and Kravitz feels his own prickle sympathetically. Then he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a sheath of letters. After so long, the words are perfectly-formed. He hands them to Kravitz. 

“You know what to do, my friend.”

Taako, says the first letter. Then, as Kravitz shuffles through the stack: Merle. Lucretia. Angus. Lup. Barry. Davenport. And at the bottom: Kravitz.

When Kravitz is confident he can speak without choking up, he says, “I’ll send these along.”

“Thank you.”

Kravitz laughs, quietly. “Of course, Magnus.”

Magnus watches him for a long moment, then steps forward and pulls him into an embrace.

Kravitz returns it gratefully. This is certainly not goodbye, but it’s melancholic all the same. 

Magnus’s voice is almost small. “Tell them I love them, okay?”

We already know, Kravitz thinks. He thinks of the wall full of photos, the ever-present scent of homemade food in Magnus’s house, the vines curling up the woodwork. He thinks of the sketch of Julia, sketched in thick, dark strokes, that was created on their wedding day by a woman with curly black hair but a hood tight over her head. He thinks of the thumbtack under which Magnus has pinned every single one of Davenport’s postcards. He thinks of the second stack of letters Magnus keeps tucked right next to Julia’s, addressed in the same small, neat hand that taught Magnus how to write.

But he says none of that. Instead, he nods.

“Okay,” Kravitz promises, smiling quietly. “I will.”

Stolen Moments

Adrien loved moments like this.

Pinned between the door and his girlfriend’s lovely figure, he felt himself growing hot and dizzy under her kisses. Yet he refrained from crying out her name, or for taking it any further. It wasn’t exactly the best situation to do anything besides make out and desperately wish they were somewhere more private.

“So did you lure me here to make sweet music, my lady?” he teased, referring to their new hiding spot in the music cupboard, in between short gasps for air as Marinette trailed hot kisses down his jawline.

Marinette nibbled his neck in response, giggling as she did so. “You’re impossible. To pun even when an awesome girl is kissing you.” Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up and kissed his nose. “And I did not lure you here. You followed me!”

“You started it,” Adrien teased, playing with a loose lock of hair at the side of her face. “You can’t walk past me giving me bedroom eyes-”

“Bedroom eyes!?”

“- Yup! Bedroom eyes. Can’t use them and not expect me to follow you.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, wiggling out of his grasp to search the cupboard for whatever it was Nino had asked her to grab. At least, that’s what Adrien assumed she was here for. Why else would a fashion student go to the music department of their university? “A- I did not use bedroom eyes, and B- you know that’s only about eighty-three percent stalkery of you, right?”

Adrien ducked after her, half-chasing her around a dusty shelf filled with handheld drums. Grinning from ear to ear, he caught her waist, pulling her flush against him. “Only eight-three percent? I need to up my game. You doing anything tonight? Mind if this poor stray follows you home?”

“God it’s a good thing you’re pretty,” Marinette sighed, but the falseness of her exasperation was given away by the smirk on her lips and the spark of mirth in her eyes. Adrien’s heart skipped a beat. “I don’t think I could stand it if you weren’t.”

“I knew you only liked me for my body,” Adrien gasped, flopping down onto her shoulder and letting out a huge fake sob. “Such betrayal, love bug! My heart can’t take it!”

“You’ll live,” Marinette snorted in response, patting him on the head. “Or maybe you won’t. But if you survive then sure, you’re welcome to stalk- I mean- walk me home.”

Lifting up his head, Adrien smiled. Leaning his forehead against hers, he let himself rest there for a moment. Sensing his change of mood, Marinette sighed in contentment. Her smirk turned into a small smile, the last thing Adrien saw before he closed his eyes and let himself relax.

There were times where he felt like this wasn’t real, that he’d not been so lucky as to find his best friend and love of his life wrapped up in one wonderful person. Truthfully, he feared it. The happiness he felt seemed almost like it wasn’t meant to last, like clouds after a rainstorm, just before the sun was about to reappear. He clung to moments such as these, how quickly they could go from heated to teasing to loving. He had to. Everything about his past suggested that it wasn’t going to last.

But then Marinette would do something to remind him that he wasn’t his past. Things that seemed so simple, but were everything to him. Things that made him remember that the moments weren’t fleeting. Things like reaching up to take her hands in his, pulling them to her lips and whispering a fond “I love you,” to make him remember that it was real. That his past was his past, and they could make their future whatever they wanted it to be.

Adrien loved moments like this. Stolen moments he could lock away in his mind, to repeat over and over again until they were as much a part of him as his lungs or his heart.

But what Adrien really loved the most, was the fact that Marinette was such a good partner in crime. Stealing those moments right along with him.

Although, judging from the fact that they were superheroes, he thought he ought to get a better analogy. He made a mental note to do so when he wasn’t so utterly distracted by the girl in his arms.

“I love you too,” he whispered, pouring every bit of emotion he had into the look he sent her way. “And you’re giving me bedroom eyes again.”

“Not again.” Marinette pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulder, her eyes heavy. “Just for the first time.”

It was as Adrien was preparing for another one of their stolen moments that three large knocks reverberated from the music room door. Marinette squeaked, leaping away from Adrien whilst Adrien tried to wipe the lipstick off of his face.

“DUDES” Nino’s voice echoed through the closed door. He did not sound pleased. “CAN YOU STOP TRYING TO MAKE BABIES FOR FIVE FREAKING MINUTES AND GET ME MY DAMN SPARE GUITAR STRINGS? I HAVE AN EXAM IN LIKE A HALF HOUR!”

Marinette turned a delightful shade of pink, though she didn’t try to deny Nino’s accusations. Quickly snatching the strings she’d offered to get for him, she walked over to the door and opened it with a sheepish smile. “Sorry Nino.”

Nino raised his eyebrow. Looking between the pair, he shook his head but thanked Marinette for the strings nonetheless. “‘Kay,” he shrugged, offering a little salute. “As you were.”

As he closed the door behind him, leaving Adrien and Marinette alone, Adrien couldn’t help but chuckle. “And here I was thinking Nino stole our stolen moment!”

Marinette buried her head in her hands, the tips of her ears red enough to rival her ladybug suit.

~

A surprise oneshot from mine and @edendaphne‘s reverse love square college au When Duty and Desire Meet- which you can read on AO3! This is a look into what their lives might be like post reveal but who knows if the main plot will go in this direction or not? *evil cackle* ;D

steve harrington x reader • cold coffee

Summary: Waking up next to Steve is something that you can get used to.

Word Count: 1600+

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, some language.

Notes: I started writing something angsty and got sad so I wrote this to make myself feel better. Idk man, idk. It got longer than I wanted?? and off topic?? I just love these kids and i love Steve Harrington.

Requests are OPEN!

Originally posted by cameronxboyce

Dating Steve Harrington came with a lot of surprises. The whole Upside Down thing, oddly enough, wasn’t one of them; you’d stumbled into that whole mess before you’d even met him, thanks to your insatiable curiosity and tendency to nose around places you really had no business being in. No, the oddities that Steve brought to your life were much more mundane, and all the more surprising for that.

Keep reading

To those who say Jonerys will never happen in the books, just a quick reminder Dany has been dreaming of him, even if she has not seen his face yet…

Lying abed in her narrow bunk, she found herself wondering how it would be to have a man squeezed in beside her in place of her handmaid, and the thought was more exciting than it should have been. Sometimes she would close her eyes and dream of him, but it was never Jorah Mormont she dreamed of; her lover was always younger and more comely, though his face remained a shifting shadow.

Daenerys, ACOK

He was who he was; Jon Snow, bastard and oathbreaker, motherless, friendless, and damned. For the rest of his life –however long that might be– he would be condemned to be an outsider, the silent man standing in the shadows who dares not speak his true name

Jon, AGOT

The flames crackled softly, and in their crackling she heard the whispered name Jon Snow. His long face floated before her, limned in tongues of red and orange, appearing and disappearing again, a shadow half-seen behind a fluttering curtain.

Melisandre, ADWD

Jon’s face and presence is often referred to as being in the shadows, he’s always been the outsider, watching the Stark children play and even if he did play himself sometimes, he tried his best to avoid irritate Lady Stark, so he kept it to himself, as the bastard he was pained to be. 

Melisandre’s visions of him, from R’hllor himself is described as Jon’s shadow hidden…It’s not SO subtle how he’s always referred to be hidden there. 


A quick reminded that when he died, she listened to Ghost’s cries…from across THE NARROW SEA…

“Jon fell to his knees. He found the dagger’s hilt and wrenched it free. In the cold night air the wound was smoking. “Ghost,” he whispered. Pain washed over him. Stick them with the pointy end. When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold … “

Jon, ADWD

“Off in the distance, a wolf howledThe sound made her feel sad and lonely, but no less hungry. As the moon rose above the grasslands, Dany slipped at last into a restless sleep.“

Daenerys, ADWD

These chapters happen at the same time, how can Daenerys Targaryen, in Meeren, listen to Jon’s murder at the Wall, North of Westeros, if not for the bond they have…without ever meeting. Call it soulmates, fate, whatever you want. Martin does not use words he does not think necessary nor he adds information that the story does not need. If you ever read one his books, you’ll know he’s sharp and everything means something, even the puzzles and riddles thrown our way. Daenerys heard his soul, Ghost’s cries (perhaps his own, warg ones), and she felt sad over it, not even knowing why.


A reminder that when Dany was at the House of the Undying, she only saw important, relevant things. Not only to herself, but to the realm: the rape of Westeros, The Red Wedding, the madness of Aerys Targaryen demanding to burn Kings Landing, Rhaegar and Elia talking of Aegon and his promised song, the fake dragon (Faegon, am I right?), Hardhome, what her son’s future would have been like, White Walkers, Rhaegar’s murmuring a woman’s name right before he died (we all assume is Lyanna’s, I guess we’ll find out eventually), and there are others, but to me it means a lot that one of these visions is:

a blue flower growing from a chink in a wall of ice, filling the air with sweetness.

Daenerys, ACOK

Oh, she also sees the red door of the house she loved and she remembers growing up, and she believed it was in Braavos. She only had important sights for the realm and herself, yet she sees a blue flower growing at the wall (if you don’t think this means Jon Snow growing at the Wall, we can’t be friends and you can’t even read this, bye! JK haha…but come on, Lyanna is said to have loved winter roses, which are blue…the same ones that composed the crown Rhaegar Targaryen crowned her with, as The Queen of Love and Beauty at the Tourney of Harrenhal. Jon lives, works, serves at the Wall, it doesn’t get any more obvious than this, y’all…only if Martin wrote she saw a ‘hot northmen with gorgeous hair at Castle Black, really…”). 

(whoever did this second gif, thank you so very much, this is beautiful <3)

So not only does this shows how important Jon is to the realm (remember how her visions are all important, not only to her but also to Westeros? *inserts my theory of them both being AA* But he’s also important to her, the flower is not just THERE, it also fills the air with sweetness, it pleases her. Do I need to say more? 


This one is very meaningful if not very telling, to me. They both feel alone, like something is missing. One can even say “they feel alone cause they are alone”, but they were not. It almost feels like there is someone out there, a better match. 

Beneath her coverlets she tossed and turned, dreaming that Hizdahr was kissing her … but his lips were blue and bruised, and when he thrust himself inside her, his manhood was cold as ice. She sat up with her hair disheveled and the bedclothes atangle. Her captain slept beside her, yet she was alone.

Daenerys, ADWD

Jon wondered where Ghost was now. Had he gone to Castle Black, or was he was running with some wolfpack in the woods? He had no sense of the direwolf, not even in his dreams. It made him feel as if part of himself had been cut off. Even with Ygritte sleeping beside him, he felt alone.

Jon, ASOS

their story is a never ending parallel.

Not to disrespect Ygritte, cause I think she was necessary to Jon’s growth. She was a great character and I do believe Jon loved her, at some point. But just like Daenerys, this love was not a choice, it was almost like a survival choice, they made the best out of a bad situation. 

He had to be with Ygritte, or Mance would have killed him, he would not believe Jon had really deserted the Night’s Watch. Ygritte wasn’t Jon’s act of rebellion, like I once read at a meta, no, she was, at first, his sacrifice/way to fill his mission. But somewhere along the way, he fell in love with her, she was strong, funny, and she awoke the sexuality in him. Again, he had to be with her, to prove himself, but it also wasn’t like he didn’t like it. 

Daenerys loved Khal Drogo? Yeah, but it was as forced as was Jon and Ygritte. One can say it was even worse for she did not go willing, she was pushed into it, sold like a slave, to get her brother an army (we do have to thank karma cause his army never came, boo-ya, sucker!). She was given to a stranger, a savage (comparing to her culture; it’s funny even to see the parallel here, both had to be with people that are considered savages, wildlings where they come from) in return of an army, and she made the best of her situation, she learnt his language, his manners, bore his child (even if the baby never came to live), she fell in love with him cause for the first time in a very long time (or forever?), she was treated with care and love (the way Drogo knew how to love) by the man in her life. 


A sweet reminder of how Daenerys thinks of her family and how she would have married Rhaegar’s son, had he lived. Rhaegar’s son, who’s Jon’s daddy again? 

Plus, we’ve seen on the show that Jon was named Aegon Targaryen too, we do not know if he will have the same name on the books but I honestly do not think they would change something so important. 

So, just another beautiful “easter egg” to ya:

Five Aegons had ruled the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. 

There would have been a sixth, but the Usurper’s dogs had murdered her brother’s son when he was still a babe at the breast. If he had lived, I might have married him. “

Daenerys, ADWD

Who says you still won’t, sweetie? Hold on, Melisandre will bring him back or he was warging Ghost, let’s just wait a bit longer, okay? 


Their journey is a never ending parallel, and their path is clearly to each other.

I don’t think the history is called ‘A Song of Ice and Fire’ without a cause, Jon may be blood of the dragon, but he’s also a Stark, and Daenerys is a Targaryen through and through…

*the lord of light aka george r.r. martin speaks through melisandre*

I’m back to reading the books and even if I’m still at AGOT, I just felt like making this, had a really bad day and making this made it a little better. 

What are your thoughts? <3 

reddie fic recs

hi :) so i recently hit 3k and i thought i would put together a list of my favourite reddie fics to celebrate!! all the fics are linked to ao3 so just click the work title and it’ll take you to the fic! tysm to everyone who has followed me ily all!! (none of the fics belong to me unless stated - if any authors whos fics are on this list wish for them to be removed please message me and i will remove it straight away ty) also let me know if you liked this and i’ll make another fic rec list :) enjoy!!!!


one shots

A Playlist of Richie Tozier Appearances by Donvex (Eddie is a youtuber AU, 2399 words)

Our House, in the Middle of Our House by Tea_Cherry (soulmate AU, 4460 words)

Rude (I’m gonna marry him anyway) by StarshipDancer (established relationship, modern AU, songfic, 5275 words)

Breathless by AddictedToPhan aka @reddie-is-canon (aged up, light smut, 716 words)

The lockbox by sweetkisses (AU, asexualEddie, growing up, 19063 words - this one is long but so good I would definitely recommend)

Sick and Damned by CieraDarlene (Internalized homophobia, self harm, AU, angst, 3998 words - please read this its amazing and I cried)

Trash Mouth by FreshBrains (aged up, light smut, high school, 1320 words)

You Only Want Me When You Can’t Have Me by areyoureddiekids (kissing, AU, aged up, sort of angst? 1619 words)

i wanna dance with somebody by electraheathens (prom, fluff, 1395 words)

Kissing Your Way by aokicchi (fluff, 6870 words)

He wanted to kiss him by Eddiekaspbraks (first kiss, 1566 words)

you trip me up by ssstrychnine (internalized homophobia, coming out, growing up, kissing, 7416 words)

keeping secrets (has never been so hard) by strangerockandrollers (5 times Eddie and Richie were almost caught making out and one time they were, fluff, 3466 words)

don’t second guess your feelings (they were right from the start)  by daisydirtbag (fluff, aged up, one by one the losers discover Eddie and Richie are more than just friends, 2297 words)


longer fics

ugly moon by weepies aka @oaf (Richie Tozier hasn’t spoken a word to anybody since he came to Derry in the middle of the school year. Until he talks to Eddie Kaspbrak., 15573 words, WIP)

You’ve Got Mail, Eds! by rose02 (Eddie Kasprak and Richie despise each other, it’s just too bad that they’re anonymously best pals on tumblr, 5599 words, WIP)

The Sun Sets In Your Direction by addielouwho (It’s been four years since Richie inexplicably began to distance himself from the rest of the Losers Club and started doing things he’d never thought he’d do. He doesn’t know it, but he’s lost.Maybe Eddie can find him and help heal the wounds that have begun to fester on his soul…, 58299 words, WIP -this is probably my favourite reddie fic, its so good!!)

Breathe into my hands, I’ll cup them like a glass to drink from by killerqueer (but I’m a cheerleader AU, 22480 words, WIP)

Stray Dogs by Seeingredfics (Being a severe hypochondriac with an ADHD ridden homeless kid sleeping in your basement can do some serious damage, as Eddie Kaspbrak was about to find out., 32945 words, WIP)

so emotional by melliesgrant (eddie kaspbrak is crushing on the school’s radio host ‘records tozier’, it’s too bad they’ve never met., 21578 words, WIP - oh my god, go read this…go read this NOW. its amazing)


my fics

You look so good in blue by SarahJayne (fluff, aged up, first date, AU, 1519 words)

It’s Friday I’m in Love by SarahJayne (angst, sad, growing up together, AU, 746 words)

Happy Birthday Eds by SarahJayne (fluff, tiny bit of angst, 1512 words)

Richie loves halloween by SarahJayne (fluff, matching couples costumes, 1422 words)

The Point II

Originally posted by silversunsandgoldenmoons

Billy Hargrove x Reader

I cannot believe the outpouring of love for this story. I got so many messages and replies DEMANDING that I post another part to this. Thank you to everyone who sends in their feedback. Every bit is appreciated!

PART I


Y/N stormed out of the boys bathroom, her face red with anger. She heard another shout and slam come from inside, no doubt Billy hit something else. Y/N wiped at her eyes and rushed down the hall with no intention of returning to class. She turned a corner sharply and ran into someone.

“Whoa,” Hands held her shoulders to steady her. She kept her head down and tried to bypass the person. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Steve” Y/N’s voice cracked in the middle of his name.

“You’re crying, Y/N,”

“I said I’m fine! Get out of here before he smashes your face in too,”

Harrington!” Billy’s voice boomed down the hall. He had murder written all over his face when he saw Steve’s hands on Y/N. “You’re dead!” Billy pointed to Steve with blood dripping off his hand.

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Beg For It

Originally posted by nodenyingheisgolden

This is multiple requests in one. This is… dirty, to say the least. Love you all very much. Enjoy. xx - L

Harry sees what can make you feel better- toys or him.

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 1,381

Keep reading

If MCR Songs Were People

This probably already exists but I spent two hours doing this instead of sleeping. Tell me which song you’re most like.

Welcome to the Black Parade: has a flair for the dramatic, doesn’t know how to do a smoky eye, was in the marching band in high school, daddy issues.

Sleep: has insomnia, PTSD, nightmares, is self deprecating, just wants to go the fuck to sleep

Destroya: probably gay, moans like a bitch during sex, pretty fucking hardcore, shit immune system though, lives for anarchy

House of Wolves:
will burn in hell (or believes they will), is a bad mother fucker, has a sister who should be scared, pyromaniac, “Catholic”

Vampire Money: all over the place, drinks a lot but parties like a beast, has a Bowie obsession, likes driving fast and loud music

Na Na Na: really artistic, pansexual, likes to scream lyrics, rebel at heart, probably still wears bandanas, sunglasses and boots all day every  day, fuck the government

Cancer: is dying, will die, all of your friends will die, actually doesn’t have any friends, really depressed, in pain, martyr

S.I.N.G: activist, owns jeggins, would join an underground gang if they had the balls, likes neon things for some unknown reason

Early Sunsets Over Monroeville: loves zombies, probably owns a Hawaiian   shirt, really quiet and doesn’t talk much, hangs out in shopping centres/malls but never buys anything

Demolition Lovers: is probably part of an underground gang, has to go away for “work” a lot, has a shotgun in the trunk of their car, teal,  unrequited love

Helena: recent death in the family, super fucking dramatic, lots of makeup, always wears black (maybe some red), nail polish is always chipped, imagines/fantasises things that will never happen all the time

Teenagers:
super punk, goes to concerts all the time, will break shit just for fun, has authority issues, probably friends with a lot of delinquents, is a delinquent, doesn’t read books, drinks a lot

Famous Last Words:
is constantly having an existential crisis, really   committed when it comes to relationships, cowboy boots, goes outside at midnight for no reason

I Don’t Love You: always heartbroken, never cuts hair, plays guitar,  goes on road trips when things get difficult, super emotional, cries a lot

I’m Not Okay:
is still in high school, I don’t care if they’re 39  they’re still in high school, hates high school, does stupid shit all  the time because fuck it, high school, is not okay, is friends with  weird people, high school

Mama: PTSD, self deprecating, mama’s boy/girl/person, has a sick sense of humour, laughs manically for no reason, cutthroat

You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison: probably gay, went to prison, had a fuck tonne of bitches (I’m kidding, they were actually the  bitch to a fuck tonne of other people), can’t adjust, has issues with  family

Headfirst for Halos: epic, is not okay, always trying to think  positively but is screaming inside, thinks about doing stupid shit all  the time (i.e. Putting a gun to their head)

Vampires Will Never Hurt You: screams a lot, has a vampire fettish, hates Twilight with a passion, has never gone outside, wouldn’t mind dying if I was a wooden stake to the heart, sucks dick

The Ghost of You:
fought in WWII, had a pretty girlfriend, wears round glasses with gold rims, is tall and lanky, has a brother, gets shot in  the chest, screams, dies

The Light Behind Your Eyes: is finding ways to deal with severe depression, cries a bit but quietly, reads a lot of books, all their friends are dead, trying to stay strong despite the fact they’re dying inside, sings like an angel

Give ‘em Hell Kid: lives life fast, probably has killed someone, wears red and like khaki green, shouts a lot, belongs in a 2005 MTV short, lives life on the edge, fatalistic

To The End: has read Dante’s Inferno, is a mafioso, fatalistic, has  probably organised the death of many people, likes to drink cyanide, sleeps a lot, owns diamond jewellery, likes cake

The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You: has no faith in life, likes western movies, will yell at you, has  applied for a license to kill, likes to sleep with people (like nap I  mean)

Thank You For The Venom: likes snakes, has probably almost OD’d, hates  the doctors, is stubborn, death obsessed, has probably stabbed someone, wears striped long sleeve t-shirts, hates running, hopes to be shot one day

Hang 'Em High: is death obsessed, clinically insane, screams a lot,  always makes a lot of aesthetic statements about things with black and  white connotations, Catholic, fuck off

It’s Not a Fashion Statement It’s a Fucking Death Wish: swears in front  of their parents, wears their mum’s clothes, is obsessed with killing  enemies, is always predicting their death to be soon.

Cemetery Drive: all too real, has a girlfriend, likes to hang out in  cemeteries, girlfriend has issues and ended her life, now has issues  because of it, drinks a lot, really fucking depressed

I Never Told You What I Do For A Living: is 100% a serial killer, sociopath, also has OCD, scary as shit

The End: is dying, but isn’t too sad, wishes to attend their own funeral  as a ghost, has no self confidence, can’t be fucking bothered growing  up, doesn’t give a shit, is very chill, wears yellow accessories

Dead!: Is dead, is having a party about being dead, wondering if all the  assholes in their life are in hell, no one actually likes them, laughs  at inappropriate moments, is a great dancer

This Is How I Disappear: really fucking dramatic, will be upset and   disappear if you break up with them, dramatic, is a part time satanist, will make a voodoo doll of you if you fuck with them, candles

The Sharpest Lives: goes out late at night, never showers, drinks   heavily, would probably go cannibal if it was legal, always in pain,   lives life on the fucking edge, will burn large objects, has sinus   issues

Disenchanted: is constantly torn, never actually cries, writes books,  likes to take chances, likes birds, got in trouble with the police for  some stupid but really fun shit, friends need to get their shit together  and learn a lesson

Bulletproof Heart: Gravity doesn’t mean to much to them, has self  confidence but not enough to stop running away, runs away a lot, wears  really funky colourful clothing, is very kind but misunderstood

Planetary GO!: goes to a lot of cool night clubs, knows how to fucking  party, is still very punk on the inside, sweats a lot (bc they dance a  lot), jumps up and down for no fucking reason

The Only Hope For Me Is You: is obsessed with being remembered, only has  one friend, is kinda depressed and really needs someone to hold onto,  but is also really questioning life and society, wants to run away to a  more aesthetic place

Party Poison: speaks fluent Japanese (cough I mean Weeaboo), watches a  lot of anime, loves Kpop and Jpop fashion, will party but goes to the  weirdest parties, dyes their hair, fuck the bullshit meaning of life  they do what they want

Save Yourself I’ll Hold Them Back: is a badass, known for being a  badass, stole your mum’s car and took you on the best date ever, wears a  lot of leather, ready for a fight, probably gets into a lot of fights  anyway, probably once looked like Danny from Greece

SCARECROW: is probably on LSD, smokes a lot of weed, is really chill,  too fucking chill, wears psychedelic t-shirts, is actually a  philosophical genius, reads a lot of poetry

Summertime: they might go outside if it’s summer, listens to music with  headphones on full blast, goes on the train a lot, likes to walk around  listening to music and pretends they’re making the aesthetic parts of  the music video they’re listening to, soft kitty

The Kids From Yesterday: is constantly nostalgic, loves Star Wars and  Queen, always having flashbacks, wears yellow and read things, feels  misunderstood, trying to figure out the meaning of life

Honey, This Mirror Isn’t Big Enough For The Two Of Us: likes Fall Out  Boy when they had long song titles, has issues, a lot of issues, ugly  screams a lot, doesn’t care, wears dark denim jackets, hates this girl  who fucked their brother

Drowning Lessons: has a lot of anxiety, constantly worried, always  running away from problems and situations, can’t swim, always has  regrets, has pink things

Our Lady Of Sorrows: was in a gang once, loves to get into switchblade fights, is really scary and bloodthirsty, believes in pagan gods, but   will protect you, blood blood blood.

Skylines and Turnstiles: saw 9/11 happen, life was changed because of  it, decided that they wanted to be in a band, made a band with brother  and his fren, got some dreadlocked weed smoking fanboy to join, the  drummer is an asshole x3, breaks up after 12 years, deems it to be a  good idea, scared of butane

This Is The Best Day Ever: this is the worst day ever, has no rhythm, is  really confused with what is going in, went to hospital a lot and hated  it, screams a bit, is a bit scared of needles, studded belts, suck dick

Cubicles: will die alone (or at least they think), hates their job, the  only thing that entertains them at work is people gossiping at the water  cooler, is actually having a severe existential crisis

Boy Division: is friends with people who would have a fucking rocking  funeral, stalks school girls, looks dead but only dresses that way,  likes to sing about California, paranoid all the time

Tomorrow’s Money: fell in love with a vampire, slightly aggressive, can  surf, stopped screaming three years ago, wants to be a doctor, hates   people who are thought of as heroes, ruined converses

AMBULANCE: screams in an aesthetically pleasing way, thinks you know  nothing, super weird, goes out after dark, likes to drive big cars,  wouldn’t mind driving, is super reliable even when they let you down

Gun.: was probably conscripted into the military, actually hates   violence and guns, wants to stay at home all the time, likes to call the  shots, owns an old uniform that they’ll never throw out

The World Is Ugly: likes Blade Runner and fairy lights, thinks weird  people are very beautiful, insanely observant of other people’s  behaviours, wears knee high socks and converses, hates the world because  it’s terrible

Kiss The Ring: belongs in an alternate universe where it’s still the  medieval time but rock bands exist, is probably a contract killer, likes  to overthrow the king every five years, has really fucked up logic  about why it’s okay to kill a lot of people, cutthroat

Make Rooom!!!!: probably goes to discos, does not panic at them,  actually has some self confidence but always gets into stupid situations  and flails, wears the tightest pants in the world, wears earrings with  crosses on them

Surrender the Night: constantly lonely, likes to drive long distances to  think, lost a loved one, has cool patches on their jacket, has been to  hospital twice, likes to listen to you, always keeps secrets unless you  fuck with them

Burn Bright
: likes going to the city just to look at all the lights,   walks around and thinks that certain things would look nice on Tumblr,   unstable, can be aggressive, very in tune with their surroundings, kind of a Buddhist

Common People: your average person, always struggling financially, wears  a lot of blue, always falls in love with shallow rich girls for no  reason, really just wants to live however the fuck they want

Every Snowflake Is Different: loves children’s TV shows, goes to the  snow every year, loves winter and hot chocolate, will cry if you take  their toys away, will be a good parent, too busy having fun to give a  fuck

Desolation Row: got beat up at school, is now in a cutthroat gang, spits  a lot, wears a lot of eyeliner, likes Grease but is also super punk  rock, hates wearing underwear, likes to break shit all the time

Desert Song: is recovering from a drug addiction, is still in a really  dark place, trying to stay strong, is questioning the meaning of life,  probably had teal roots at some stage

Black Dragon Fighting Society: drinks juice when they’re killing because  it’s fucking delicious, really likes dragons, reads too much, hates  society, would run away but that would mean no books and no juice so no  fucking way, likes hot pink and black

Zero Percent: hates everyone, would kill everyone, really hates people,  does whatever the fuck they want, will kill everybody, will put zero   effort into school or work, does their own thing.

Mastas of Ravenkroft: worried about growing old, has no self confidence,  will only have sex if the lights are turned off, feels very old at a  very young age because of shitty bones, also has no fucking chill

F.T.W.W.W.:
fuck society, is super digital, but also really retro,   always tells people to kiss their ass, lives in a futuristic society,   likes robots, has a licking fettish, likes to destroy shit, will   probably spit randomly

We Don’t Need Another Song About California: Summertime’s long lost  twin, really doesn’t give a shit about California, but likes the sun,  probably lives in Florida, hates magazines, probably has a fake name,  thinks that nothing matters

All The Angels: is dying, has minutes left, girlfriend has issues   because she’s a little risky, everything has gone wrong, everyone is   upset, probably died three years ago, never went to heaven, likes pretty  flowers and dead things

Romance:
a complete and utter 1800s Romantic, has probably ready  Frankenstein, wants to go on epic journeys, never showers, likes spices,  old fashioned, would probably get into the steampunk fashion thing

Blood: is forever in the 1920s, was a war hero but hates themself,  laughs manically sometimes, has a thing for blood but hates vampires,  90% human wreckage, 23% awful fuck, 8% bad at math, 14% clueless

Rules

Pairings: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Style: One-Shot

Warnings: Some language and explicit sexual content. But overall, just pure fluff. :) 

Word Count: 1,370

Summary: You’ve got some explicit rules for watching Marvel movies with Tom, specifically ones that he’s in. But he has other plans.

A/N: Fun fluff that popped into my head while watching the Avengers a few days ago. Enjoy ;) (Not my gif!)

Originally posted by hiddelstonwife

“What are the rules?” You ask, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth as you plopped on the couch.

“Darling, I hardly think this is necessary.” Tom argued, dimming the lights from across the room. 

 “Ah, ah. Rules, Hiddleston.”

 Tom sighed. “No quoting the movie during the movie. No explaining how a scene was made during the movie. No watching of Y/N’s face during my favorite scenes to gauge a reaction.” 

 “Aaandddd…?” You sung out, reaching for another handful of popcorn. 

 “No talking during the movie.” Tom grumbled, finally getting comfortable next to you on the couch. You grinned. 

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just the two of us

Summary: You’re quite the shy one, but Steve always manages to get a few words out of you, no matter what.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Someone tell me to do my college work, and stop writing fics! who am I kidding, though - I can’t stay away from this angel. Also, I am not very good at writing shy readers, apparently :/ I will do better with the next shy reader fic I’m writing, I promise! enjoy xx | masterlist

Originally posted by franciscastle

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anonymous asked:

Heyyyy welcome back to tumblr, can u write something about reddie? Literally anything, my days kinda sad

Aw no, I hope your day gets better! Here, have the most ridiculous idea I could think of:

  • So you know those lame Home Ec classes? Where you get a robot babydoll and you have to take care of it for a week to simulate parent hood?
  • Yeah
  • Eddie is absent that day they get the assignment, so guess who he gets stuck with, AKA the only kid in class who didn’t get a partner because everyone wants to actually PASS?
  • I’ll give you a hint
  • Richie kicks down Eddie’s front door, the baby’s head sticking out of his backpack
  • “HONEY I’M HOMO! Come meet your son!”
  • The baby is screaming
  • So is Eddie
  • Eddie snatches it from Richie, convinced that he’s going to be a single father for the next week
  • “What’s its name?”
  • “Eddie 2, because he has your eyes!”
  • “You’re a fucking moron.”
  • “EDWARD, please! Don’t use that kind of language around our son!!”
  • Eddie has an existential crisis in the middle of his kitchen because he’s holding a baby while the trashmouth is telling him not to swear
  • Trying to astral project himself back in time to punch Past Eddie in the face for missing class for a Doctor’s appointment 
  • But as it turns out, Richie is all in on this assignment
  • He macgyvers a way to turn his hoodie into a sling so he can do his homework without leaving the baby alone
  • They take turns with who gets the baby during the school day, and Richie thinks its the sweetest damn thing that Eddie keeps sending him texts asking how things are going
  • “Little E2 is great!”
  • “That’s not his name
  • It is his name, Richie already made a fake birth certificate and got a Doctor’s signature (Dr. B Hascom, MD) 
  • He gets extra credit for it too
  • They spend the weekend together, needing to write a paper about the assignment anyway
  • Richie accidentally falls asleep on the couch with the baby cradled to his chest, and Eddie just stares for a while before taking a picture so he can have the image forever
  • But then the baby starts crying, waking Richie up with a groan
  • “Eddie, I decided…I can’t handle being a teen dad. We should have used protection.”
  • Anddddd the soft moment is over just the like that
  • Eddie snatches away the baby from a smirking Richie, regretting every life choice all over again
  • He has the baby in one arm while he makes breakfast the next morning, and Richie teases him for talking to the baby like he’s real
  • “Let me bond with my son, Richie.”
  • Eddie and Richie fight over who has to get up in the middle of the night when the baby starts crying at 2 am, resulting in them both getting pillows to the face
  • “Ugh, et tu, E2? I can’t deal with TWO people trying to get my attention!”
  • “You’re a nerd Richie.”
  • They’re actually really sad when they have to give the baby back, and Richie makes a big show of pretending to cry
  • “They grow up so fast! Our little boy! Can you believe it Eds?”
  • Eddie rolls his eyes, but he can’t help but grin at seeing Richie act so responsible and soft for the last week
  • “No, I can’t believe it at all”


*feel free to add on!*

BTS Reaction - when they’re the sub (Hyung line)

Seokjin 

The softest sigh of pleasure escapes Jin’s lips as you trail yours along the slope of his neck,  caressing his skin with every lingering kiss.  He’s never one to be particularly noisy, but you can tell from the way his hands are kneading into your fleshy curves that he’s enjoying all of the attention he’s being lavished with, quiet or not.

“Jinnie,” you murmur against his shoulder, rolling your hips to grind against the bulge in his pants and delighting in the way his breath hitches.   Nothing gives you more pleasure than making Jin fall apart under your touch, and it takes little more than the feel of his abdominals shuddering under your fingertips to make your core start to throb with want.  “Remember what we talked about a couple weeks ago, Jinnie?”  

“Hmm?” he murmurs half-heartedly, flopping his head to the side to allow you even greater access to his throat as you continue to pepper kisses along it.  

“About spicing things up a little bit?”  Suddenly you have his full attention, turning back to face you with opened eyes, his hands stilling on your hips.  You watch as the smallest of creases appear between Jin’s eyebrows and the way he pauses to lick his lips before speaking, seemingly hesitant.  

“I don’t really like the idea of being rough with you, Jagi…” His eyes flick between yours, trying to gauge whether his rebuttal of your previous request is making you upset.  “I don’t want to call you names or… or hurt you.”  Honestly, you’d been expecting him to say this anyway.  The first time you’d mentioned him taking a more dominant position in the bedroom he’d seemed less than keen on the idea, and even though he’d promised to think about it, you knew his answer would still be no the next time you asked.  That’s why you’ve come armed with another suggestion this time, the thought of which intrigues you just as much as the last.  

You lean down on your elbows either side of Jin’s head, looking down into his deep brown eyes with small smile.  

“What about if I take the lead instead?”  you propose quietly.  You don’t wait to witness Jin’s reaction, leaning down to kiss him leisurely instead, giving him time to mull it over.

“You?”  he murmurs against your lips, his hands slipping down from your hips to your behind, giving you a squeeze.    

“Me,” you confirm, pulling away and sitting up, looking down from where you’re sat astride his lips.  It’s difficult to read Jin’s expression or thoughts about the idea - but at least he doesn’t look so immediately negative as he did last time.  “Do you trust me?”  

“Of course.”  His answer is automatic, without even a hint of doubt; a reminder of just how much Jin loves you and how lucky you are to have him.  

You strip yourself of your blouse under Jin’s watchful eyes, smiling at the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as his gaze shamelessly drifts over the swell of your breasts.  As soon as it’s off of your body you fold it into a makeshift blindfold, and though Jin initially looks a little confused, he soon realises what you’re intending to do as you lean forward and lay it gently across his eyes.  

His natural reaction is to pull away, twisting his face away, but when you utter a soft ‘trust me’ Jin suddenly stills, letting you apply the blindfold and secure it tightly behind his head.  The quickening of his breath is almost instantaneous, though you don’t pass comment on it.  

“Can you see me?”  you ask quietly, climbing off of his hips to kneel between his open legs, slipping your hands down his naked chest and watching with satisfaction at the way all his muscles jump at your touch.  

“No,” he answers huskily, and after that you remain completely silent, letting Jin’s panting breaths fill the room.  You undo his belt and pants deftly, pulling them off along with his boxers, and Jin’s hips instinctively thrust up into nothing as the cold air hits his cock.  It’s already weeping with anticipation,  laying thick and heavy against his stomach, and although every instinct is telling you to climb back on top of him and put it to good use, you force yourself to focus solely on his pleasure instead, dipping your head to start licking and kissing your way up the inside of his thighs.  

Not being able to see you seems to be heightening Jin’s sense of touch, and when you blow gently against one of the wet marks you just sucked onto his thigh, he lets out a sound you’ve never heard from him before.  It’s a whimper, a mewl; a sound that shoots straight to your core and has you rubbing your thighs together to ease your arousal.  Slowly, you work your way up towards his cock, taking your sweet time, greedily trying to drag more and more noises of pleasure from his lips.  

Jin starts grabbing at the sheets when you start to plant kisses along the length of his cock, travelling upward and kitten licking at the head when you get there, blowing on it when you pull away.  

“S-shit…” he curses under his breath, and just that one word is telling of how much this is affecting him - Jin never swears in front of you.  You tease him relentlessly after that, giving him just the slightest of touches of your lips or teeth or tongue but never actually letting him slip inside the heat of your mouth, and within minutes Jin is losing his composure, his hips twisting restlessly underneath you, gasps and whimpers and sinful moans pouring out of him with abandon.  

“Aa-ah!” Jin cries out when you flick your tongue against his frenulum, smirking as you look up at him from between his legs, knowing he can’t see you.  “Please… Jagi…”

“What’s wrong Jinnie?”  You can see Jin struggling between his need for release and his own pride as he purses his lips together for a moment, turning his face to the side.  “You need something?”  

“You.”  He lets out another strangled moan when you lick up the bead of pre-cum leaking from his slit and nothing more.  “You, please!”

“What would you like me to do, hmm?”  Again he pauses, breathing raggedly, broad chest heaving up and down as his cheeks turn a deep shade of pink when he finally relents, voice breaking as he begs,

“Put your mouth around me, please, Jagi.  Let me cum down your throat.”  

And he does, mere seconds after you take him between your lips, smiling like the cat that got the cream.   

Yoongi

“M-mommy…”  You’re watching Yoongi like a predator watches their prey, eyes fixed on him as you wet your lips and tilt your head, closely noting the way his muscles tick as you push him closer to his orgasm.

He’s quite the sight to see tonight; covered in a fine sheen of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead, hands grasping the sheets helplessly.  You love having Yoongi like this beneath you, trussed up and whimpering.  He’s never more beautiful than when he’s begging for release, which is why you’ve been making him do just that for the last thirty minutes, relishing in every broken sound he makes.  

“You’re doing so well, baby boy,” you coo, dragging your palm up and down his cock, squeezing on the upstroke.  It’s impossible to keep the smirk that appears on your face at bay at the way he responds; his hips jerking up from the bed, throwing his head back into the pillow.  It’s criminal, really, how much pleasure you derive in watching him suffer.   “Just a little longer.”

“Too much,” he whimpers, his head craning so far to the side like it’s he’s trying to hide, eyes screwing up tight as you quicken the pace of your hand,  “‘s too much.”  

“I thought you liked it when mommy played with your little dick?”   Yoongi mewls again as you run your thumb over his slit, spreading what little pre-cum there still remains after so long over the swollen, sensitive head.  His cock is anything if small, actually - especially now, when it’s so hard and angry and red - but you know how much he likes being made to feel little, and you’re more than happy to indulge his various kinks and fantasies.   “Maybe I should stop, hmm?”  

“No!”  he quickly disagrees, eyes opening up wide as he picks his head up from the pillow to stare down at you, a panicked look on his face.   “Just… feels so good - I can’t-”  

“You can,” you insist, speeding up after that all too brief reprieve, eager to watch Yoongi fall apart.  He lets out a strangled moan, his hips rocking from side to side as you work him roughly, cupping his balls in your other hand and giving them the lightest squeeze, knowing that it’ll push him closer to the edge.  

Yoongi bites his lips, tipping his head back as you feel his length start to swell in your hand, his testicles drawing up tight, and just as he’s about to reach his high you abruptly stop your ministrations, grabbing the base of his cock and squeezing it tight to stop the orgasm in its tracks.   Yoongi’s beside himself when he realises; shaking his head from side to side at your continuing denial of his pleasure, his whole body trembling.  

“No, no, no, please!” he sobs, lifting his clasped hands from his stomach and drawing them up to his face, using the heel of his palms to stop the tears that are threatening to spill.   He passed the point of being ashamed of his desperation approximately four near-orgasms ago, his cock is throbbing and pulsing but spilling not a drop, and with every dry heave of Yoongi’s chest you feel your own arousal growing, dripping onto the sheets underneath you.  “Please let me cum, mommy.  P-please!”  

The poor boy, it must feel like agony.  

Once again, you begin gently fondling Yoongi’s cock, wondering to yourself just how long you can keep this up without him having to resort to using his safe word.  He’s never used it yet, but by the way his bottom lip is shaking, bitten to ribbons and bleeding, you think it must not be far off.  Perhaps it’s time to take pity on him - before it goes that far.  

“You’ve been a very, very good boy,” you tell him softly, “So good for your mommy.”  He looks back at you with beseeching eyes, holding his breath as he waits for your next words, clearly hoping that you’re going to show him some mercy.  “You know what good boys get, baby?”  Finally releasing him, you sink back on your heels and spread your legs a little wider, letting both your hands reach between them seek out your core and allowing yourself the slightest groan when you discover just how wet you are.  

Apparently Yoongi isn’t the only one who’s been suffering.  

Yoongi gives the slightest shake of his head, hair falling into his eyes.  

“Good boys get to cum inside.”  You hear his breath hitch as he watches you play with yourself, sending him a salacious smile and looking up at him from under your lashes.  “Would you like that?  Cumming inside mommy’s hot, tight cunt?”  He nods frantically, scrambling up onto his knees, cock bobbing against his stomach as he moves.

Slowly, you turn yourself on the spot and put yourself on all fours on the mattress, presenting yourself to him by sinking down onto your elbows and arching your back invitingly, and Yoongi wastes no time at all taking his place behind you.  He places his hand on your lower back, so slow and gentle that it almost seems reverential, but you can feel the way he’s shaking as he lines up his length with your entrance, waiting for your permission.  

“Mommy?” he whispers, and you look back over your shoulder at him with an adoring smile, pushing back a little to slip just the tip of his cock between your folds.  It’s a struggle to not show how much it affects you; you’re almost as desperate for this as he is, your pussy aching with the need to be filled and satisfied.  

“Go ahead.”  Your soft words of encouragement are all Yoongi needs to hear to finally push inside you, slipping in down to the very hilt with how warm and wet you are, and as you feel him stretch out your walls you bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning, wanting to hear the groans he makes over any of your own.  He’s throbbing inside you already as he starts thrusting in and out of your at a slow, steady pace, holding onto your hips and breathing harder than you’d expect for only just having gotten started - if you hadn’t have been edging him for so long, that is.  

“I’m not-”  He cuts himself off with a whimper and a falter of his hips, and it takes a second for Yoongi to collect himself enough to speak again.  “I’m g-gonna cum so fast, m-m-, I’m s-sorry.”  He can barely get his words out, his fingertips digging into your hips, and you can tell from the way he’s pushing into you so shallowly that he’s desperately trying to hold on for just a little bit longer.  “Can I, mommy, c-can I?  Please?”  

“Go on, baby,” you groan, rocking yourself backwards onto him, forcing him deeper.  You really don’t want him to cum yet - you’re nowhere near your own high - but you know it’d be both unfair and unrealistic to expect him not to after teasing him for so long.  “Let me hear you.”  He picks up speed, bending over you so his chest pressed against your back as he drills into you, exhaling heavily with every thrust.  

Within seconds  Yoongi’s pace is faltering, sloppy and uncoordinated, and as he starts to cum a shout of ecstasy leaves his lip, his body tensing behind you as his cock pulses inside.  It seems to go on forever, like he’s having every orgasm you deprived him of all at once, grabbing at your hips and crying and whimpering against the space between your shoulder blades as it finally begins to fade.  You feel so full.  Full, and satisfied.  

“Thank you, thank you,” Yoongi mumbles mindlessly against your skin, his hands caressing up and down your waist.  He slips out of you, and even without you shifting position you can feel his cum starting to dribble out, far too much to be able to keep inside.  You turn your head to, resting your cheek on the mattress and closing your eyes as you enjoy the feel of Yoongi pressing loving kisses all the way down your spine.  He gradually works his way downward, finally pressing a kiss against the back of your thigh.  “I’ll make you feel good, mommy, promise.”  

As his tongue starts to lap against your entrance, licking up his own cum and your arousal with a happy hum, you’ve no doubt he will.  

Hoseok 

“Hobi, I’m home!” you call as you shut the apartment door behind yourself, dropping your bag on the hallway floor.  There’s no reply from the next room, or from down the hall, which even on a normal day would seem a little strange.  Hoseok would usually be tackling you into a hug by now, and with the text messages you’d been exchanging earlier… well, he’d seemed so needy that you’d half expected him to be waiting naked by the door from the moment you got back.  

He’s not in the living room, the kitchen, or your shared bedroom, but as you re-enter the hall you suddenly hear the sound of running water coming from the bathroom.  You smile to yourself as you push open the door, trying to be as quiet as possible so you can retain the element of surprise, but as the steam from the piping hot water starts to clear and you get a glimpse of your boyfriend through the misty shower screen, that smile quickly fades.  

Hobi’s stood under the running water with his head flopped forward, chest rising and falling heavily with breaths you can’t quite hear as his hand runs slowly up and down his hardened cock.  He’s got his eyes closed, lips parted, lost in the pleasure he’d so sweetly promised he’d save for when you got home.  

So much for that, hm?  

You strip yourself of your clothes and then silently climb into the tub behind him, watching the way the muscles in his shoulders are flexing and rippling as he touches himself, quietly groaning your name.  

“I thought I told you to wait.”  Hobi practically jumps out of his skin as he hears your voice and feels your arms wrap around his hips, abruptly letting go of himself and twisting his head to try and look at you over his shoulder, flushing guiltily.  

“I wasn’t going to make myself cum, promise,” he says quickly, placing his hands on top of yours and squeezing them,  “I just wanted to be nice and clean for when you got home…. but then I started thinking about you again and it just… it felt really good…”

“I’m sure it did,” you tut, pressing featherlight kisses against his back, wetting your lips with the water that’s still raining down on the two of you, “But I told you to wait, Hobi.”  You feel a tremor run through him when you pull your hands out from under his and take a step back, admiring his pert behind and strong legs with hungry eyes.  

Yes, you’re annoyed that he started without you, but you can’t deny how the sight of it has turned you on.  

You push on Hobi’s lower back, forcing him to bend forward and brace himself on the edge of the tub with his ass in the air.  He’d easily be able to resist you if he wanted to, but then that’s the point; Hobi wants to submit.  He knew he’d get punished if he was caught, and yet he chose to do it anyway.  

“You know what happens when you don’t listen,” you purr, reaching out and taking his buttocks in both hands, squeezing and kneading the wet, slippery flesh.  “Don’t you?”  You see him nod, his eyes closed and biting his lip, waiting for the slap he knows is coming.  “Answer me, Hoseok.”  

“I-I know,” he confirms thickly, rocking back on his heels to push his ass further into your hands.  Through his parted legs you can see his cock dangling toward the the bottom of the tub, still rock hard, a string of clear, sticky fluid seeping from the tip that has you licking your lips at the sight of it.  God, you can’t wait to have him inside you.  

Hobi is soundless the first time your palm slaps harshly against his buttock, the sound of it echoing around the room, but he’s gritting his teeth, his forehead pressed against the bathroom tiles, clearly feeling it’s effects.  He inhales sharply with the second, hissing through his teeth by the third, and with the fourth and fifth he lets out long, wavering moans of pleasure and pain, his back arching when you cup his ass in your hands again.  You watch as his skin reddens beautifully, running your fingertips over the outlines of your multiple handprints and smiling at the way he trembles and whimpers at your touch.  

“You still owe me an apology,” you remind him as you let your hands drop.  Hobi straightens up, turning to face you with a heaving chest.  His cheeks are gorgeously flushed, wet hair plastered to his head.  He reaches for you and you allow him to take you into his arms, pulling you close under the water, his erection digging into your stomach as he presses kisses to the top of your head, murmuring a heartfelt sorry.  “Make it up to me.”  

Hobi pulls away slightly, looking down at you, a bead of water hanging off the end of his nose that’s brushed away when he leans down to kiss you.  He takes your face in his hands, and as his mouth moves keenly against yours you let out a soft moan, dragging your fingernails down his washboard stomach.   

As you’d hoped, it soon escalates into more.  Without breaking your kiss Hobi effortlessly picks you up, holding your ass in his hands as you wrap your legs around his waist and tangle your fingers in his wet hair, pressing your back against the cold bathroom tiles to steady you both.  Part of you realises what a bad idea this is - if he loses his footing even for a moment you could both end up with broken arms or legs or worse - but as you feel his cock brush against your folds you just can’t seem to care.  

“Fuck me,” you demand, pausing only to speak before crashing your lips together again, delving your tongue into Hobi’s mouth as he obediently shoves you in one hard, sharp thrust.  Without any foreplay you can’t deny that it hurts, but as he starts to move, forcefully rutting into you, that pain dissolves into a pleasure that has you clawing at his scalp.  “Harder.  Fuck, harder, Hobi.”  He moans into your shoulder, snapping his hips against you, the bones digging the soft flesh of the inside of your thighs.  “Yes, baby, yes, don’t stop.”  

He kisses you again, so hard that your head bangs back against the tiles, and you answer his assault with a harsh bite of his bottom lip, tugging on it so hard that he yelps from the pain.  You can’t have him thinking he’s in charge, not even for a second; the only reason he’s fucking you now is because you allowed it.  If he hadn’t have spent all day turning you on with his needy texts and call you would’ve just spanked him and left.  

“Make me cum.  God, Hobi, I’m so close, make me cum on your cock.”  For once, your boyfriend listens, altering the angle of his thrusts to somehow get even deeper than before.  That’s all it takes to push you over the edge, white hot pleasure blossoming deep in your core and then spreading all over your body, hitting you in wave after wave, your walls contracting around him as he continues his thrusts, his eyes fixed on the look of bliss on your face.  

As soon as it starts to fade and you regain some clarity, you start to wriggle in his grasp, forcing Hobi to pull out and put you down for fear of dropping you, his brows knitting in confusion.  

“Honey?” he murmurs, reaching for your hand as you turn your back on him, climbing out of the tub without a word.   You grab a towel from the heater and wrap it around yourself before finally turning back to him with a smirk, throwing your wet hair over your shoulder.

“You should’ve listened, Hobi.”  You see him swallow, wetting his lips nervously as he tries to guage whether or not you’re just joking.  He should know you well enough by now to know you’re not.  “You aren’t cumming till I say so.” 

Namjoon

You’ve had the worst of days.  Your boss has been riding you all day over something that wasn’t even your fault, and the office bitch has been… well, a total bitch, as usual.  All day you’ve been counting the down minutes until you can leave, till you can go home to Namjoon, and now that you’re stood outside your apartment you can already feel some of the stress starting to melt away already.  

You can’t hear a single sound from inside the apartment but instinctively you know that Namjoon will be there, waiting for you, and sure enough when you push open the door his slender form is the first thing your eyes see.  Pushing the door closed behind you, you let the smallest of smiles grow across your face, exhaling a happy sigh.  

Namjoon’s kneeling in his usual spot, his eyes on the floor and hands folded neatly in his lap, wearing nothing more than a pair of black jeans and a thick, matching collar around his neck.  You’d almost think he hadn’t even realised you’d come in, so well-controlled is his reaction save the slight increase his breathing rate which gives him away.  

“You’re a welcome sight to come home to,” you tell him softly, and as soon as Namjoon hears you address him directly he picks his eyes up off the floor to look up at you, his plushy pink lips slightly parted.  “Come here, boy.”   You beckon with your finger and Namjoon crawls forward to kneel by your feet, tilting his head to the side when you lovingly run your fingers your his soft, fine hair.   “Talk to me.”   

“Was it a long day, mistress?” he asks you quietly, his voice coming out slightly croaky at first.  

“The worst,” you sigh, continuing to push his hair back from his forehead.  He really is the most handsome of toys you’ve ever owned.  “But I feel much better now I’m home with you.”  You cup his chin in your palm, smiling down at him and feeling your heart flutter when he smiles sweetly back up at you, those perfect dimples of his making an all too fleeting appearance.  

“I’m glad, mistress.  I missed you.”  

“I missed you too.”  You open up your purse and pull out Namjoon’s leash, deftly attaching it to the ring on his collar.  He hums happily when you give it a little tug, shifting his weight from one knee to another, and then reaches out towards your shoes before stopping himself short, looking up at you.

“Can I?”   You nod, lifting up your foot for him to slip off your heels for you one by one.  

“So good to me, aren’t you?”  

“I only want to please you, mistress,” he tells you, looking up at you from under his dark lashes.  

“And you do, boy.”   You thumb his cheek gently before letting go and padding your way over to the sofa with leash in hand, crawling obediently behind you, and when you flop down onto it he kneels himself at your feet again, waiting for your command.  

“Are you hungry, mistress?  

“No,” you sigh, letting yourself slump to the side, your head on the arm of the sofa.  Honestly, all you want is unwind in his company after such a horrible day.  “Just… help me relax.”  Namjoon blinks back at you for just a moment, clearly expecting more instruction.

“What would you like me to do, mistress?”  he asks, and you know that a good dom would tell him exactly what they want and exactly how to do it, but right now your brain is so frazzled that even you don’t know what you want.  

“Just… anything you want.”  His eyes widen slightly, his head tilting to the side in confusion.  This isn’t how things normally go between the two of you - not at all.   “You’ve been so well behaved just lately; my gorgeous little boy is long overdue a real treat.”  

“Thank you, mistress,” Namjoon says solemnly, dropping his gaze to the floor and wetting his lips, and when he looks up again you notice that his the black of his irises have expanded.  He looks darker all of a sudden, seductive.  

Slowly, he repositions himself so he’s kneeling directly between your legs and picks up one of your feet, placing it on his thigh.  He starts to massage your foot through your stockings, kneading the sore pads of your toes, and once he’s satisfied there he slides his hands up and starts to work the muscle in your calf, too.  Namjoon’s eyes are locked on yours throughout, and by the time he’s moved onto your second leg something that had started out quite innocently has got you breathing heavily and throbbing under your skirt.  

“Undress me,” you command suddenly, sitting up and shifting forward so your bottom is on the edge of the sofa.  Namjoon’s whole face lights up.

“Yes…”  He strips you of your stockings one by one, trailing his fingertips down the length of your legs, and then rises up onto his knees to start unbuttoning your blouse.   As his fingers work you let your eyes drift over his body, admiring his dark caramel skin, pinched waist and toned stomach, and as your gaze travels lower you’re pleased to see that all that light touching had affected him just as it had you.  Namjoon’s rock hard beneath his jeans, the large bulge in the centre of his crotch causing the buttons to gape.  

As soon as your blouse is undone you shrug it off your shoulders, eager to shed anything and everything you can, so flushed with arousal that your blood feels like it’s burning under your skin.  Namjoon reaches for your bra but you shake your head briskly, wrapping his leash around your knuckles as you hitch up your skirt to expose the black lace panties you underneath.  

“Take them off,” you tell him, voice pitched low and husky.  His eyes fix on your core, pressing his lips together as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and then pulls them down, his cheeks starting to flush with excitement.  Once they’re off you pick your feet up from the floor to plant your heels on the edge of the sofa, spreading yourself wide open and tugging on his leash to pull him towards you, guiding his mouth towards your dripping heat, biting your lip with excitement.  As soon as Namjoon is within reach you’re grabbing onto him, using your grip on his hair and his leash to yank him in the rest of the way, pushing him greedily into your pussy and moaning when he slips his tongue straight inside, evidently eager to taste you too.   

“Fuck, yes,” you groan, flexing your hips to push his tongue in deeper, his nose brushing against your clitoris.   “How does my pussy taste, boy?  Does it taste good?”   Namjoon groans into your folds and the pleasure that comes from the feel of the vibration shoots straight up your spine, your head flopping back into the cushions.   

He pleasures you that evening for as long as you require him to, making you cum with his fingers and tongue until you feel like there are no bones left in your body, and as he finishes himself off standing over you, spurting his cum all over your swollen pussy, you let out a happy, contented sigh.  

He really is your best, most favourite boy. 

Gifs do not belong to me - credit to rightful owners. 

Stay tuned for the Maknae line - Steph <3 <3 

Imagine being Dean’s daughter and announcing to him that you are dating Jack.

“Him?” Dean’s rough voice broke the heavy silence that had set between the two of you “You are dating him?” he all-but-growled as he stared deeply in your eyes.

“Well, I- I wouldn’t say exactly dating yet, he’s not that familiar with the term and I’m-”

“Yet?!” Dean exclaimed, his voice coming slightly high-pitched “Yet? You mean this will keep going on?!”

“Well, yes dad of course it is!” you huffed, rolling your eyes “That’s why I am telling you, because this is actually important to me. And maybe Jack doesn’t quite understand the terms yet but I know that his feelings are real, that all of this between him and I is real as well.”

“Which again brings me back to my original question: Him?!” he looked at you with so much shock it made you groan and cross your arms over your chest.

“Will you try to be a little less surprised, please? I thought you’d be a little less shocked at your daughter-”

“Dating the son of Lucifer? Oh yeah!” he cut you off full of sarcasm and a hint of angst “Why the hell would I ever mind that (Y/n)?!”

Keep reading

Greed

Pairing; Park Jimin  x Reader

Words; 3.1k

Genre; Smut | Light angst

Summary;  ❝Love is blind, greed is insatiable❞

Aka; You’re Jimin’s side hoe and he’s too fucking greedy to choose between what he loves and his greed for money.

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Case Closed (Jungkook x Reader)

Admin: Candi
Request: Can i request a rough jungkook smut? Thx btw.. – anon”
Fandom: BTS
Member/reader: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Smut, Lawyer!AU
Warnings: Smoking, language, hair pulling, daddy kink, spitting, slapping, choking
Words: 3.6k
Authors note: O this is a treat for all you jungkook stans, hope you enjoy it and lemme know what you think. Thank you! Also I ain’t a lawyer so don’t judge my case scene lmao.

           As a child you always thought you’d end up being a vet, then during your teens you wanted to be a tattoo artist since you entered the rebellious phase at that stage. Throughout the years you never saw yourself as a lawyer but here you are, your first case was happening today and you were going against the most respected and feared lawyer in the company. His name was Jungkook and he always won every case. You wanted to kick your boss in the teeth for putting you up against Jungkook for your first ever case but you were also quite flattered knowing that your boss thought you’re good enough to go against Jungkook.

           The case has been going on for a few months, your client was a victim of identity fraud and Jungkook was defending the person who did it. If the judge had any common sense you’d easily win the case but it’s not about that, it’s about knowledge and confidence, it’s much like having a debate; the more facts you put forward the more likely you’ll win.

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