day-bag

Never before have I cried over the death of someone famous, but I’m in a bit of hysterics right now.

I was 9 years old when my passion for Disney first sparked. I did as much research on the company and the people involved in it as I possibly could to immerse myself in its culture. My mom found out that she was friends with someone who was related to someone involved with Disney, so I asked her to ask her friend what this person’s name was. She came home from work one day with a paper bag that had the name ‘Marty Sklar’ written on it, and I nearly burst into tears at the sight of it. Not long after, I sent him a letter through my mom’s friend and received the autograph pictured above in response, coincidentally dated The Walt Disney Company’s anniversary.

Seven years later, I had the honor of meeting him at my first D23 Expo and telling him about our connection, as well as attending his panel.

Upon attending D23′s Christmas party in 2015, I was surprised and delighted to find out he was there signing books, so I reintroduced myself to him once more.

Just shy of two weeks ago, I had the honor meeting him one last time at D23, as well as attending a panel he was a part of.

I am so honored to say that not only was I able to meet him, but able to meet him and see him speak so recently, as well as meet him a number of times over the years.

Marty has always been and will always be an immensely special and pivotal part of how I first fell in love with Disney, a love that has driven every action of my life ever since.

With a very heavy heart, I bid goodbye to Marty, and send thanks to the universe for him, everything he’s done for the Disney company, and everything he’s done for me.

“I’m starting from nothing. I lost everything back in Venezuela. I had my own natural soap factory but the crisis made it impossible to get ingredients. Then the government began to take 70% of my earnings. I had to close it down. Things got so bad that I couldn’t even find food for my baby. I had a little money, but there was nowhere to buy food. I’d wait in line all day for one bag of flour. We could go days without eating. When I tried to breastfeed my daughter, I’d almost faint. Leaving the country was my only chance. I’d never said ‘goodbye’ to my daughter before. She was screaming my name when I left. It hurt worse than giving birth. But I didn’t have a choice. I told her that I was going to Colombia. I told her that I was going to make a diamond, and I’d bring it back to her. Now I sell key chains in the street. When I make some money, I send packets of food back home. I’m trying to keep a good spirit. I’m doing OK. I grew up very poor. I came from nothing. So I’ve been here before.”

(Bogotá, Colombia)

——————————————

My interpreter Juan has kept in touch with Rose, and we put together a small fundraiser if anyone would like to help: http://bit.ly/2pQbI5k

Drarry AU

My brain keeps returning to this idea – what if, in POA (movie universe), Harry never realizes that the crane Malfoy sent him was a note (because I mean, who would)?  Like he just stares at it, confused, then goes “okay” sets it down on his desk and goes back to ignoring Snape

I mean, Draco would be furious because how dare you not appreciate my bullying Potter and the next class they have together, he grabs another piece of paper, writes something along the lines of “You suck Potter”, folds another crane and blows it over – only for it to be left sitting on Harry’s desk again after the lesson, and Harry didn’t even look inside, he didn’t do anything with this damn crane, and Draco is absolutely seething from this lack of attention

So he does it again.  And again.  And again.  

First it’s insults (because of course he hates Potter, they’re archenemies, never mind the actual murderer stalking Harry at this very moment) – “I hope you die Potter” “I wish I met Sirius Black I’d help him” “Your glasses are appalling why do you still have the same ones from first year your prescription can’t possibly be the same you moron” “Eat a bag of dicks Potter” – but a month goes by and he’s running out of things to say and Potter never reads the notes anyway so Draco just starts ranting about everything else he finds annoying


Soon the cranes are just a way of venting – talk about your day, fold a beautiful crane, send it to the person you definitely hate the most.  He still tries to snark and generally antagonize every time he sees Potter, because it’s practically my duty to take the Golden Boy down a peg, Goyle – but he can’t do it the same way anymore, so he takes a step back – in everything except the cranes.  

Every day, every class, and sometimes at breakfast, a crane will land next to Harry Potter’s elbow.  Without fail.  Harry will pick it up, stare at it, and set it back down.  Or maybe slip it into his bag, and Draco’s stomach flips the first time he does that.  

It’s almost like they’re friends.  By now, Draco’s told him things he never even voiced to his friends – that he’s actually terrified of the Dementors, that he keeps feeling like he’s not good enough, because no matter what he tries, there’s always somebody better than him at it – that he still can’t understand why Harry didn’t want to be his friend that time on the train, seriously Potter what did I do?  you didn’t even know me! – and Potter didn’t crumple any of the cranes, so maybe he doesn’t hate him so much anymore?..  Draco knows Potter never reads these notes, but he likes to pretend that Harry knows all these things about him.  And maybe even cares a little.  

It’s stupid, and he really shouldn’t be putting any of such personal details in writing (honestly Lucius would be so disappointed, these cranes are perfect blackmail material and what the hell are you thinking Draco yells Draco’s inner voice) – but he can’t stop.  It’s become a habit, and Potter stared at him for fifteen minutes at lunch today, so he can’t stop.  Draco keeps talking, and making Harry little doodles, and trying not to smile too obviously when another crane ends up in Harry’s pocket.



And meanwhile, Harry’s going nuts.  He just doesn’t understand what Malfoy wants from him, or why he doesn’t run into him so often anymore – and the cranes really seem to be just paper (Ron why does Malfoy know origami is this a general wizard thing or is it just him), and they’re delicate and elegant, and he feels bad about destroying them – so he just leaves them.  

Until, of course, he absentmindedly shoves one in his bag one day – and finds it that evening.  Sighs and sets it on his bedside table, because what else can he do?..  Even if he throws it out, he’ll just get a new one tomorrow.  Or three.  

He’s confused, because Malfoy isn’t even so loud or dramatic anymore, it’s almost as if he’s trying not to attract attention – beyond the cranes – but Harry’s eyes are glued to him anyway.  He knows that Malfoy has to be up to something, because of course he is – but he just can’t tell what, there’s no way to know, and holy shit Ron he just smiled at me what the hell is he planning – and all this time, the pile of cranes on his bedside table keeps growing

He doesn’t lie awake at night, thinking of Malfoy’s smile.  He doesn’t.  Really.  

The next day, when he gets his morning crane, he flashes Malfoy a brilliant smile, and laughs at his stunned expression like ha, two can play at this game!  Gotcha now!  and he’s still thinking that Malfoy’s messing with his mind – except he can’t help but think that it would be nice if Draco was really like that.  If he really just sent the cranes over to brighten Harry’s day.  If there wasn’t something else behind this, because he’s starting to like it.  


All this goes on until Hermione barges into their dormitory again, in the ungodly hours of the morning, like she usually does – and stops dead, staring at the pile of cranes, Ron may have been complaining but she never imagined the true extent of this new, yet age-old obsession.  And of course, Harry tries to protest, that it’s all for science, Hermione, I have to find out what he’s up to and this is the only source of information – but the excuses run dry when she quizzes him a bit and finds out that none of the cranes are cursed, or charmed to yell insults, or anything, really 

So she’s like “well have you tried to unfold one” and no he didn’t, who the heck writes notes inside a crane anyway, isn’t it an artwork??  But hey, that’s an idea, and that night the trio gets together, sitting on Harry’s bed with the crane he just got in Charms, bated breath and all, waiting for it to unleash something nasty (Harry finds himself really really hoping it won’t) 

All kinds of security measures done, and they unfold it 

Hermione’s like “oh.  Oohh,” and Ron’s eyebrows fly away to roam the world

Because inside

there’s a shitty little drawing of Harry and Draco holding hands, with little hearts all around 

Things I've learned since becoming ill...

• It’s nobody’s fault. It is genetic. It just happened.

• Do not be too proud or stubborn to ask for help. You need it.

• Brush your teeth and wash your face (even just with a baby wipe) everyday if you’re able to do so. It makes you feel more human.

• Shower or bathe whenever you are able to. Good personal hygiene is good for your mental health.

• Some people will leave. You don’t need those people. Others will stay and they are wonderful human beings.

• You are not a burden. You are not useless. Do not be guilty. Please. Guilt will eat your insides.

• You have not lost who you are. You just now have to make adjustments to accommodate this new thing.

• Accept the fact that you have an illness. Being in denial will only make your mental and physical health worse.

• Clean pyjamas are a divine gift. As are clean bedding and blankets.

• Self care is entirely subjective. If you want to do yoga then do it, if you wanna sit and eat takeout in front of the TV in a squirtle onesie then that’s fine too. Whatever makes you feel good, or at least better.

• If you are tired then rest. Do not burn yourself out. It doesn’t matter what time of day it is, if you need a nap then you have one.

• Talk. Write. Sing. Paint. Draw. Dance. Do something to express your feelings. Don’t keep them inside. You’ll explode.

• Don’t worry if you can’t adjust right away. It takes time. A lot of time.

• Do not feel ashamed or embarrassed. Unfortunately illness often has embarrassing symptoms or such. It isn’t your fault. People who allow you to feel embarrassed about such things are terrible people.

• Keep your sense of humour. Some days it’s the only thing that gets you through.

• There will be good days. Grab them with both hands and enjoy them. Savour them. Spend them doing things you love, things that you can’t do on bad days.

• Prepare yourself to the best of your ability. Like…always have a hospital weekend bag packed for emergencies, keep a bed day drawer or bag near to where you sleep, have food or snacks close by, always have a water bottle…

• Take your meds. Please. If you have a serious illness for the love of god don’t listen to the “big pharma” conspiracy theorists. You need your meds. They keep you alive. They enable you to function.

• Research your illness. Keep yourself informed. But don’t dwell on what might happen. Please don’t scare yourself.

• It’s okay not to feel positive all the time. It’s okay to feel down. It’s perfectly natural. But try to be as positive as you can. For your own sake.

• Your own health comes first. It’s not selfishness it’s survival.

• Be kind to yourself.

• The bad days can be horrific but the good ones are beautiful, and so worth holding on for.

• Don’t give up on love. Just don’t.

• You are a badass warrior.

How to study:

Originally posted by slothilda

Before classes:

1 - Have a good night of sleep. 
- At least eight hours.

2 - Take some coffee before going to school. 
- Always have a snack in your bag. (Don’t study hungry)

3 - Workout.
- I know it’s going to be hard, since most of you have to wake up so early, but working out will help you to make the most out of your day. 

4 - Organize your bag the night before. 

5 - Go through what you’ll be learning on the day.
- This way you will be prepared and you can take notes about your doubts on the subjects.

6 - Listen to a badass playlist on the way to school/college.
- It will boast your motivation. 

7 - Drink a lot of water. 
- That’s a tip to the whole day, actually. Always remember to take a bottle of water or tea to school/college. 


During class:

1 - Sit in the front.
- You will understand more your teacher and be away from the noises that can take away your attention.

2 - Ask questions. (No matter how dumb you think they are.)
- Do not end a class with doubts. If you can’t ask during the class, take a note of your question on a sticker/notebook to ask later.

3 - Record the lectures.

4 - Put stickers on notes you will need to go over. 

5 - Listen to your teacher.
- Be friendly with them.
- Write down their names and contacts (number, emails, social media).

6 - Taking notes on class!

- Don’t worry about it being pretty, just make it organized and understandable so you can go over and make real notes later. 
- Always start with the subject title and date. 
- Differentiate by color your teacher’s notes and yours. Put in red (or any other color you want, actually) the important things.


After class:

1 - Eat.
- You need to replace energy!

2 - Review everything you learned on the day you learned it.

3 - Complete your homework on the day you get it. 
- Or start it, if the task is too big. 
- NEVER FALL BEHIND!

4 - Dress comfy.

5 - Have office hours in case you didn’t understand something.

6 - Watch documentaries on the topic you are currently studying.

7 - Study 30 minutes (50 minutes at the very most) and stop for 10 minutes. 
- Leave your study place when it’s break time.

8 - Turn off your phone or let it out of sight. 

9 - Test yourself/talk out loud.
- Do practice questions!

10 - Taking notes after class!

- Organize your notes by color.
- Rewrite the informations with your own words.
- When writing the new notes, make it pretty if you can. (I think it motivates me to study, looking at something well made) Otherwhise, be simple and objective, focus on the most important things.
- Go over the class recording and read the books to compare with your class notes, to make sure you didn’t forget anything.

Imagine if you will: it’s six months later in game-time.  Keyleth finished her Aramente, Hotis is dead, Taryon has paid the party and wandered on his way, so on and so forth.  There’s still a few Lingering Questions™ perhaps about that book and other things, but Vox Machina are prepared to take a well-deserved rest for a while.  Their keep is finally empty of refugees, there’s time to take a break from things like governing Whitestone, and everyone heads back to Greyskull for a little while to just enjoy their home and one another’s company for the first time in an age.

They send a message to Scanlan, an olive branch: we’re going back to Emon, back to Greyskull Keep.  We’d love to pick out a room for Kaylie, if you feel like coming by.

No reply.  Keyleth considers scrying on him in case something’s the matter, but finally decides not to intrude any further on his privacy.

The day arrives.  Bags are packed, they step through the Sun Tree and into their garden; the only familiar faces waiting are a few of their servants and Jarrett, but it’s still their good old long-lost home.  Emon is finally starting to really bustle again in the Conclave’s aftermath.  They consider a quiet dinner at home, but it almost seems like a waste; Vox Machina, as they’re wont to do, leave their things behind and head out to a tavern for a good time.

The one they pick is a big bustling place, and being the local heroes and all, they opt for one of the less conspicuous tables off in a corner.  They can’t really see the minstrels performing way over on the stage for all the heads in between.  (Well, Grog can, but he’s busy with his ale.)  The fiddler is uncommonly good, though, accompanied by an abrasively lively shawm and then an equally nimble lute.  It’s good music to get drunk by, so they toast and laugh and nobody thinks anything more of it until there’s a smooth tenor voice that they’d recognize anywhere:

“Let me tell you the tale,” it sings, “of Vox Machina.”

One of the group drops their ale mug, and the crowd whoops and cheers for Scanlan Shorthalt’s latest masterpiece, which of course he’s been performing here for days already to be sure the regulars know the words.  There’s a verse describing all the heroes, naturally, and Scanlan meets their eyes one after another with a small smile on his face.  Olive branch returned.

He looks different.  Less jewelry.  Somewhere along the line apparently he cut his hair, and now it’s half grown out again.  The only earring he wears is Tiberius’s, and the front of his shirt is closed.  He’s dressed like a man who’s decided maybe female attention isn’t that important to him after all.

The song is several verses long, glowingly detailing Vox Machina’s exploits.  It must have taken ages to write.  There are even some lines about Taryon Darrington, the end of the Aramente, the harrowing journey to the Nine Hells.  Things Scanlan wasn’t anywhere near, things which are definitely partially bullshit, but some of which ring startlingly true.  Perhaps Keyleth wasn’t the only person doing a little scrying.

The last verse ends with a flourish, proclaiming how Vox Machina triumphed through the power of their bonds, the strength of a family working as one.  Then amidst the raucous applause, he squeezes Kaylie’s hand and hops off the stage, leaving her considerable talents to finish the set alone.  He makes his way over to the corner with a smile, an awkward and old and honest smile, to buy everyone a drink.

(”So, little elf girl,” he starts, and Vex immediately punts him down the table.)

Dangerous Man (John Wick x Reader)

Originally posted by anothermoviepage

Working at The Continental isn’t at all what you thought it’d be. 

SPOILER FREE FIC.


You smoothed out your shirt and looked in the mirror. It was your first day on the job. You were decked out head to toe in brand new clothes. All from a designer you’d never heard of. All custom made to fit you perfectly.  All completely free. On top of that, you’d be making a salary that, at entry level, was six figures. And all you had to do was deliver room service.

But there was a saying you’d heard since you were young: If it’s too good to be true, then it probably is.

You should have suspected something was off when you had to give a blood sample, a urine sample, a DNA swab, and answer a thirteen page questionnaire that included things like “list the full names of your parents, siblings, and grandparents” or “do you have any experience with sutures, cauterization, or CPR?”

And then the interview, itself, felt more like an interrogation. The whole thing gave you this weird feeling in your gut, but this was also the most exclusive hotel in New York City. Getting a room here wasn’t about whether or not you had the money, but whether or not you knew the right people, and even then, it was typically booked solid. You’d even heard a rumor that The Queen of England was denied a room once. Of course they’d be picky about their staff.

But after the lengthy interview process and dozen or so signatures on papers you probably should have read, you found out the truth about The Continental.

The manager’s name was Winston. He was nice enough, though he had a very “no nonsense” attitude about him. The more you found out about the place, though, the more you understood why. It was a safe haven for a secret society of people. Assassins. Hit men. Gang Lords. The underground elite of not only New York, but the entire world. The only currency accepted from customers were gold coins. One gold coin was the equivalent to one favor. It was a simple system, Winston explained, but complex to newcomers. You’d pick it up over time. All you needed to know was that if you got a coin, you kept a close eye on it.

Additionally, the hotel followed a strict set of rules, but the two that most concerned you were that staff was never to ask questions, and no business could ever be conducted on hotel grounds. The latter of the two should have made you feel safer, but instead, it just made you more nervous.

Upon the conclusion of your meeting with Winston, he presented you with a single gold coin. You looked at him curiously. He smiled, and said simply:

“A welcome gift.”

Keep reading

Please Don’t Go

Originally posted by babyangelmichael

A/N: Uh I was listening to some throwback music again and this is kinda based around a Boyz II Men’s song

Warning: Contains Sexual Content & Mentions of Alcoholism. View At Your Own Risk!!!

     Ashton sat alone in the dark. Curtains drawn to block out the early morning light. He was resting into the sofa and his hand clutched a bottle of vodka with a strong grip. His jaw clenched and he brought the bottle up to his lips and took a sip of the alcohol. Ashton’s eyes were dilated and clouded over as if he was stuck in a trance. They stayed locked on the moving boxes the sat near the front door. The moving boxes that held your belongings. Ashton swallowed hard and he wiped a tear that was rolling down his face. It was his fault that you were leaving him.

The two of you had been having problems for months and on top of that Ashton began to stay out late and he started drinking. It was becoming a hassle trying to handle him when he was drunk. His temper had elevated and the insecurity of losing you had drove him mad. At some point he had became violent and threatened anyone that looked your way. There was something about seeing him get into fights that struck a chord with you. It made you realize that if Ashton acted this way when someone pissed him off, then what would happen if he got angry with you while he was drunk. You didn’t feel comfortable being around Ashton when he was in that state of mind. As the arguments increased you feared for your safety even more. Ashton of course promised that he would never put his hands on you, but you couldn’t take his word for it. You never know what could make a person snap. Even if he had never physically hurt you before, there was still the thought that Asthon could and it scared you. 

The sound of the door unlocking echoed around the loft apartment and soon the door opened allowing a flood of light to sparkle into the entrance. Ashton stayed in his spot and he closely watched as you came inside. You were dressed in sweats, hair pulled back, and face bare of makeup. It was as if someone could see the exhaustion radiating off of you. You were sick of the fighting and just needed to get out. You tossed your keys on the table next to the door and let out a sigh. You were too busy scrolling through your phone to notice Ashton sitting in the living room. He took another swig from the bottle and licked his lips. “Is the moving truck coming today?” Ashton questioned, his voice sounded rough and the sound of it made you jump in your spot.

“Holy fuck, Ashton! You scared me,” you sighed, placing your hand over your heart. Your eyebrows furrowed when you turned to look at him. “Really sitting in the dark?” you sighed, walking over to the windows to pull open the curtains. Ashton groaned as light filled the living room and his arm came up to shield his eyes. Once you had adjusted to the light you finally got a good look at him. Ashton looked worse than you. His hair sticking up, facial hair grown out more as if he hadn’t shaved in days, and bags under his eyes. You felt a tinge of sorrow at the sight of him but quickly shook the feeling away when you spotted the bottle of alcohol in his hands. “Of course you’re drinking,” you scoffed, walking towards the moving boxes. You began to mutter under your breath and grabbed the tape from off one of the boxes to continue securing your things.

Ashton tilted the bottle of alcohol in his hands and looked at it in disgust. The taste of it almost didn’t have an affect on him. Somehow Ashton had become immune to the burning sensation of hard alcohol. With a deep sigh he sat the bottle down on the coffee table and stood up from his spot. “Is the moving truck coming today?” he asked again, moving to sit at the bar stool. 

“Yeah. I won’t be here when they make the second trip, but Joey will give you back the key,” you told him. You bent down to pick up the box you had just taped and placed it closer to the door. You chewed on your bottom lip contemplating on if you wanted to tell Ashton something else Joey was going to hand him. “He’ll also hand you the d-divorce papers,” you said. Ashton blinked back in surprise and his eyebrows furrowed at your words.

“The what? No-no I’m not signing anything, Y/N,” Ashton said, “When did we ever decide on that? I recall us talking about you moving out. I remember us talking about being separated for a bit, but divorce? We never discussed that.” His voice had rose in anger and you flinched at his tone. “Fucking divorce papers…I’m not signing shit,” he scoffed, rubbing at his chin. Ashton thought you were being a bit too dramatic. Sure you two were having problems, but it wasn’t that bad for you to file for divorce. He had been holding out hope that you’d get over this rough patch. He agreed on letting you move out to clear your head. At least that way Ashton knew you were still his in a sense, but divorce meant you were no longer together. He would rather die than divorce you. He sucked in a deep breath and stood up from his spot to approach you.

You felt his hand grab your elbow and you let out a deep sigh. “Can we just talk about this please baby,” he said, voice sounding desperate. You looked up at the ceiling and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip.

“I’m done talking about it, Ashton. You made your choice and I made mine,” you said, brushing him off. “I think I left some stuff upstairs,” you said, quickly walking away from him. Your footsteps sounded loud as you ran up the stairs and disappeared from his view. Ashton rubbed at his forehead and took a long look at the boxes. He despised them knowing that once they were gone you were never coming back. The first night you had left made Ashton realize he couldn’t let your love slip away. Ashton needed you because you were his rock and without you here there’s no telling what he’d do. He wanted to change for the better but that was easier said than done. 

You sat at the edge of the bed and looked out the glass doors of the bedroom with a melancholy look. You could never think straight when you were around Ashton and you could feel hot tears spring at the corner of your eyes. “Stop it,” you hissed at yourself, wiping your face as the tears started to flow. “Stop crying,” you said, trying to put on a strong voice. It hurt to see Ashton like this and you knew he needed help. He had to control his anger and how much he drank. Someone had knocked on the door the sound echoed loudly around the loft. You stood up from your spot and patted your cheeks twice. You left the bedroom and at the same time wiped away the rest of your tears. Ashton wasn’t going to make you feel bad for wanting a change. Especially a change where you needed to feel safe around the person you’re with. The knocks continued and your eyes darted towards Ashton. He was still in the spot you had left him in. “You’re not going to get that at all?” you huffed, brushing pass him to open the door. 

“MOVING DAY!” your best friend, Lea, cheered, entering your apartment with your other best friend, Joey. Your eyebrows rose up at her words and you gave a quick smile. You weren’t in a happy mood, but you did feel relief about leaving the toxic environment you had been in. “Oop hey, Ashton I didn’t know you were here,” Lea said, giving you a ‘my bad’ look in an apology for her greeting towards you. Ashton rolled his eyes and began to shuffle upstairs to your once shared room. On the way he swiped a scotch bottle from out the bar and soon left you and your friends in the living room. 

“He’s still drinking?” Joey questioned earning a silent nod from you in return. 

“I don’t even know how to deal with him anymore,” you sniffled, “Whoever that is upstairs is not my husband.” Joey sighed at your words and his hand came down to squeeze your shoulder in reassurance. You shook your head “It’s fine. Let’s just load up the car,” you said, pulling away from your friend and grabbing one of the moving boxes. Lea and Joey shared a look and then followed in pursuit. Ashton seemed to spend the rest of his time in the bedroom drinking away his feelings. He had only peeked over the railing once to get a glimpse of you; wondering where it was the two of you went wrong. When half of your stuff was packed into the car you made your way upstairs. Ashton was laid out on the bed, headphones in, and eyes closed to block out the reality that was happening around him. You leaned against the door frame and watched him curiously. “Ashton,” you said, trying to get his attention. When he didn’t respond you called his name again and this time your voice rose to a louder pitch. You pushed off the door frame and walked over to him. “Ash!” you yelled, yanking the headphones out his ear. He jumped in surprise and looked at you with wide eyes. 

“What?” Ashton said, eyes scanning over your face. Your eyebrows furrowed at his tone making you take a step away from him, cross your arms, and clear your throat. 

“I’m taking the first half of my stuff to the apartment,” you told him. Ashton nodded at your words and for some reason you found yourself lingering. “Lea and Joey will be back for the rest while I go to my appointment-” you paused to walk towards the door but then stopped yourself to turn back towards Ashton. You gave him a hopeful look and you wanted Ashton to show some sign of resistance. You wanted him to show some attempt of change, but instead he took a swig from the Scotch bottle. Instead of saying what you were going to say, you straighten back your shoulders and said “When you get a chance send the divorce papers to my lawyer.” You left after that leaving Ashton alone to his thoughts. Five minutes had passed of your departure and Ashton was already upset. Pacing back and forth all while chugging the alcohol. You were tearing him apart and he was tearing you apart. Your last words rang through his head and Ashton let out an aggravated yell throwing the glass bottle of alcohol towards a wall. The sound of glass hitting against the wall was loud and the liquid splashed against the wall and dripped down onto the floor. Ashton’s knees began to buckle under him and he fell down onto the floor and broke down crying. 

     You were curled up on the couch in a blanket, hand grasping tight to the television remote as you flicked through the channels. The only thing showing up on most channels seemed to be infomercials and it made you wonder exactly why you were up this late. You hadn’t been sleeping much over the past month anyway. Staying up late and filling your nights with television to not hear yourself think. It was different to be living alone and that was the problem. You felt alone. It was what kept you up at night. Being aware that you were no longer living with someone you had been with for years. It was weird and you weren’t sure how you coped with being alone before Ashton ever came into your life. It was reaching the early hour of 2am when you were starting to finally drift off. Your eyelids becoming heavy and mouth parting as you started to fall asleep. It was for only a second that you felt the relief of sleep only to be pulled out of it by someone banging loudly on your front door. Your head flew up in shock and it took everything in you to get up from the couch. You pulled the blanket tightly around you and yawned as the loud knocking continued. 

You stood on your tippy toes to look through the peephole and your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of the wavy light brown hair. Ashton was leaning up against your door, face pressed into the cold wood and fist pounding on the door. You quickly stepped away from the door and pressed your back against it. “Y/N! I KNOW YOU’RE HOME PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR!” Ashton shouted, banging on it harder this time. It was too early for this to be happening and from how his voice was slurring you knew Ashton must have been drunk. “Y/N!” Ashton shouted even more, making your eyes shut tight and teeth sink hard into your bottom lip. You knew if you didn’t answer Ashton would end up waking your neighbors. After a minute you sighed in defeat and unlocked the door. Ashton stumbled inside nearly falling on his face. Once he had caught his balance he turned to face you. 

“Ashton what are you doing here?” you questioned, yawning once more. He had statred shaking his head and you noticed Ashton was gripping at some papers. The sheets crumpled and torn around the edges. “Where have you been? Do you know I’ve been trying to get a hold of you?” you questioned, still keeping a safe distance away from him. Ever since you moved out Ashton had been in hiding. You spent a whole month without hearing from him. No calls or anything. You even contacted the boys to see if they’d heard from Ashton, but sadly no. It had almost gotten to a point where you were beginning to worry about him. “Ashton,” you sighed, trying hard to get through to him. He ignored your words and kept mumbling to himself about something. “You’re fucking wasted,” you sighed.

“I-I can’t sign this,” Ashton slurred, shaking the papers at you. Your eyes squinted and you pinched at the bridge of your nose. “I refuse to sign them. I don’t want to lose you baby,” he whispered, “I can’t-please I just can’t lose you.” You were taken aback by his words and realized Ashton was crying. He had been drinking, but the emotion he was giving off was no longer anger. It was sadness. 

“You have to sign them,” you sighed, now being the one to shake your head at him. “Sign them and go home Ashton,” you said, voice coming out stronger this time. Ashton let out a small laugh, the sound coming out watery as he was still crying. He approached you making you back away from him until your back hit against the wall. Ashton trapped you between him and the wall and his hands came up to press on the wall and rest over your head. His head dipped low until his face was inches away from yours. 

“No baby. You don’t mean that,” Ashton whispered, nudging his nose against yours. You sucked in a deep breath and your eyes closed as you felt the tears start to come. The stench of alcohol radiated off of him and you shook your head. “Tell me you still love me,” he mumbled, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and sending a peck to your skin. “We can make it work-we can work it out. Please don’t go away from me,” he whimpered, sending more kisses onto your neck. You had started to cry at that point. Your body wracking with sobs. It’s not like you didn’t love Ashton because you did. You loved him with all your heart, but you couldn’t go through this cycle of negativity and pain over again. “Please don’t go,” he cried once again, hands dropping down to grab at your hips. His fingers pressed hard into your skin like a child clutching to their favorite stuffed bear and you cried even more.

“You need help,” you said through tears, body relaxing into his touch against your wishes. 

“I need you,” Ashton mumbled, lips trailing up to kiss at your jaw. You shook your head again feeling the tears run down your cheeks. He wasn’t listening to you. Ashton’s mind being somewhere else with the alcohol in his system. You needed Ashton to understand that the two of you couldn’t move forward until he dealt with his own issues. 

“No, Ash no.” You sniffled, hand reaching up to grab his chin and turning it so that he’d face you. His lips were slightly puckered and his skin felt soft to the touch. “You. Need. Help.” The words came out slowly and your eyes bore into his, holding his gaze. “The drinking has to stop,” you said, beginning to chew on your bottom lip. Ashton tore his gaze away from you and his grip on your hips released. “You want us to work it out then go to rehab,” you softly said, finally taking a breath. He went quiet at your words and pulled back to hold you at arms length. “Do you understand what I’m saying?” you questioned. Ashton nodded at your words, but then shook his head. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched his face scrunch up and nose wrinkle. His eyes squinted and he gagged for a few seconds.

Ashton had lurched forward his head dropping as he began to throw up everything he had been drinking that night. You grimaced at the sight feeling uncomfortable as he continued to empty his stomach out onto your hard wood floor. Finally after some time Ashton coughed twice and spit out the excess vomit. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and lazily looked at you. “Mm I’m sorry,” Ashton muttered, looking down at himself in disgust. The splash of it had hit against your floor and backfired onto Ashton. He was covered in his own vomit. You sighed loudly and rubbed at your temples. Ashton looked about ready to pass out, but you weren’t going to let him sleep in his own vomit. 

“Come on,” you said, stepping around the puddle of throw up. You bent down and your arms slipped under his arms so that you could haul him up. Ashton placed his weight on you and you pulled him as best as you could towards your bathroom. Once inside you sat him down on the toilet seat and turned your back so you could turn on the water. You plugged the tub up and allowed it to fill. Ashton was too out of it to wash himself so you were going to have to do it. “Stand up for me,” you coaxed, trying to lift Ashton up yourself. He complied to your words and stood up. You grabbed at the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. Ashton looked like a lost puppy as you began to undress him. Your fingers brushed against his abdomen and Ashton could feel his skin heat up at the touch. Your fingers worked on unbuttoning his jeans. Pulling down the zipper and yanking them down his legs. A smirk made its way onto his lips when you had gone down onto your knees. The minute you felt his hand grab at your hair you slapped it away. “Stop it,” you huffed, standing up once you had him out of his jeans. Finally Ashton was standing naked in front of you and the tub was filled up with water. 

The water felt warm against Ashton’s skin and his head rested back against the wall as he let out a moan of comfort. Steam coated the bathroom mirrors and you sat on the floor watching Ashton. Your fingers dipped into the water and silence filled the air. It almost felt like a comfortable silence, but you knew it wasn’t going to last for long. Ashton’s hand lifted from out the water and he reached out to wipe a tear that was rolling down your cheek. You closed your eyes at the gesture and then cleared your throat. Your hand dipped into the water to grab at the wash cloth and you poured some body wash into it before grabbing Ashton’s arm and washing him. He sat quietly in the water and allowed you to run the towel across his body and wash away the day he had had. The once clear water had become foggy as the dirt washed off of him. Ashton stood up and he felt his cheeks heat up when he realized he had gotten hard. “M’sorry…it’s just the heat and-” his hands went down to cover his hard on and you nodded at his words. He had sobered up just a bit, but was still slightly out of it. You unplugged the tub and grabbed a towel for him to dry off with. 

“I have extra toothbrushes in the cabinet. You can wash out that taste while I grab you something to wear,” you told him, handing over the towel an exiting the bathroom. You began to rummage through your drawers looking for some of Ashton’s old clothes that you had acquired into your own wardrobe. You found a t-shirt and some basketball shorts that you had worn the first time you’d spent the night with him. You grabbed the articles of clothing and made your way back into the bathroom where Ashton was hunched over the sink brushing his teeth. He looked over to you for a split second and spit out the excess toothpaste. 

“Thank you,” he muttered, going back to brushing as you sat the clothes on the counter. You nodded at his words then left out to go clean up his vomit from your living room floor. It was reaching 4am and you were tired as can be. Eyes bloodshot, but not in the way that Ashton’s was, hair a mess, and body exhausted. You grabbed some rubber gloves out the kitchen drawer and began to clean. Finally after five minutes you were finished cleaning and sprayed some Febreze to hide the stench. You dragged yourself towards your bedroom finally ready to close your eyes and get some type of rest. When you came to the entrance of your bedroom you found Ashton passed out asleep on your bed. You shook your head and just climbed into bed with him. A sigh of relief left your lips as your head fell onto the pillow. Not too long after Ashton’s arm draped over your body and he pulled you closer into him. You didn’t even fight it this time and just allowed his body to mold into yours. “I love you,” he hummed, finally drifting off to sleep. You found yourself smiling at his words and squeezed his hand. Soon succumbing to sleep yourself. 

     Ashton was still hard. His crotch pressed up against your ass and the feeling of his boner was what had woken you up. You felt yourself grow wet at the pressure and you became angry with yourself for wanting Ashton in this moment. Ever since you both separated you had been lacking sex and you knew he had been too. Your eyes darted towards the clock and you let out another groan. You had only slept for two hours. Turning back to look at Ashton you could tell he was still deep in sleep. He was probably having a sex dream which is what brought on his boner. You felt your skin heat up and you tried to shake the thought of him filling you up from out your mind. You hated how easy it was for him to turn you on even if he wasn’t awake. The whole thing felt inappropriate especially considering the events that had happened earlier. Ashton snuggled closer to you and he softly grind his crotch into your ass and a moan slipped from his lips. You couldn’t take it anymore, turning in your spot and shaking Ashton awake. He groaned and pushed your hand away.

“What?” Ashton mumbled tiredly, eyes peeling open. Even though he was tired Ashton looked as if he had fully sobered up in the little time he had slept. 

“Can you fix your damn boner it’s making me-It woke me up,” you corrected yourself. Ashton’s eyebrows furrowed at your words and he lifted the covers to take a look for himself. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled for the third time that night. Ashton scratched at the back of his neck and he looked at you for a second almost hesitating to get out of bed. “Excuse me,” he said, finally sliding out from under the covers. You sat up in your spot and watched him walk towards the door. Your breathing had quickened in pace and your fingers fiddled with the duvet as Ashton left your room to take care of his “problem”. You sat in silence and stared at the door where he had gone through. Your core throbbed and you began to argue with yourself. 

“Ash,” you called, losing out to how your mind felt against what your body and heart wanted. He was quick to come back, head poking through the door to give you a quizzical look. 

“Yeah?” Ashton asked, eyebrows knitting in question. Your mouth parted for a split second and you licked your lips not sure how to voice what you wanted. You bit down on your bottom lip and stared at him in innocence. Ashton recognized the look you were giving him. You had often used it when you two had just finished arguing about something stupid and you were too stubborn to actually say you wanted to fuck him. His eyes widened in surprise and broken sounds left his lips. “A-Are you positive you want to do that?” he questioned, earning an eager nod from you in return. “Oh-um,” Ashton felt his cock grow harder at your unspoken words. His eyes clouding over in lust as he watched you rub up and down your arm in nervousness. 

“Please don’t make me beg,” you whined out, becoming inpatient at the fact that Ashton was still frozen in his spot. Ashton was quick to move from his spot. The bed dipped as he climbed on it once more and you moaned in delight when his lips pressed against yours in a passionate kiss. It had been months since you last kissed Ashton and it felt like you were at home. Your hands snaked around his neck and you pulled him into a deeper kiss. It was one of both hunger and need. Teeth clashing together and tongues massaging one another. “Mhmm I missed you,” you breathed into him, the kiss parting as he pulled off your shirt. You weren’t wearing a bra and Ashton groaned at the sight of your breasts. His head dipped into the crook of your neck and he kissed at your skin. This time you wanted the action and your head tilted to the side to allow him more access to your neck. Soft moans left your mouth as he trailed his lips down and took your nipple into his mouth. Goosebumps rose on your skin and your hands laced into Ashton’s hair. He pulled away to give you another kiss and you tugged at his shirt wanting him to take it off. 

“Patience, baby doll you’ll get to feel me soon,” Ashton whispered, pinching at your nipple until it was a hardened nub. You let out a moan and your hand reached out to grip at his shoulder. Your core throbbed and you felt a flood of wetness hit you when Ashton toyed with the hem of your pajama shorts. Your lips trailed across his jaw sucking tiny love bites into his skin. His moans turned you on even more and your hands slipped into his basketball shorts and softly grabbed at his cock. Ashton’s body tensed up against yours for a second and then he relaxed as you began to stroke his cock. His grip on your hips tightened and Ashton’s face fell to rest on your shoulder as he enjoyed the pleasure you were giving him. It took everything in him to pull away from you making a whine leave your lips. “Mhm no-keep doing that and I’m gonna explode,” he said, finally yanking down your pajama shorts. 

Once again Ashton’s lips were back on your body. He kissed between the valley of your breasts and marked your under boob with love bites. He continued his trek down your body making sure to kiss every inch of your skin as possible. Heat rose at your chest when Ashton kissed at your ankle and he sent you a wink. He kissed down your leg and came close to your core. His breath felt hot against your skin and Ashton took a tentative lick up your folds. Your eyes closed in bliss and when he took another lick, longer and the tip of his tongue fiddling with your clit, your back arched. Ashton’s hands slipped under your ass and he pulled you closer beginning to eat you out some more. Your thighs quivered as Ashton nipped at your bundle of nerves his pointer finger circling over your entrance. He sucked at your folds and the sound of him slurping up your juices sounded loud in your ears. Your moans bounced off the walls and you wrapped your legs around his head to draw him more into you. Ashton’s cock pulsated at the sound of your moans and he plunged his finger into your heat. “Ashton please,” you whimpered, hands fisting at the sheets. You needed him badly and the way he was licking you out had your body aching in the best way possible. He slipped another finger inside of you and began to thrust them, tongue circling around your clit and making your body convulse. Your eyes fluttered as you felt deep in the pit of your stomach your release approaching. It felt so good and you began to rock against Asthon’s fingers, slowly riding it as your release continued to build up. He curled his fingers up and the tips of it brushed at your g-spot. Ashton replaced his fingers with his tongue and he moaned at your taste. The vibrations of his moans hit your clit and your legs shook as you came to your release. 

Ashton hummed as your hips rose and legs kicked out in pleasure. He took two more licks up your slit and then kissed at your inner thigh. Your hand rose to rest at your forehead and you tried to focus on catching your breath. Your skin felt on fire as Ashton kissed back up to your lips. He gave you a passionate kiss allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. Ashton rested his forehead against yours and traced his fingertips across your skin. “You okay?” he whispered, sending tiny pecks to your shoulder. You hummed in response and gave him a lazy smile. You had missed having Ashton between your legs. You turned in your spot until you were facing Ashton. He gave you a smile and you kissed him softly before sliding your hand back into his basketball shorts. The head of his cock leaked with precum and you swiped your thumb over the tip. Ashton’s eyes closed at the feeling and his hip instinctively bucked at your touch. The kiss grew even more and you pulled down his shorts. Ashton kicked them off and you continued to stroke his cock. Your arousal grew and you pushed Ashton onto his back so that you could straddle him.

Your nails scratched down Ashton’s chest as you sat on his cock. His chest heaved up and down and you began to rock your hips. You were teasing the both of you. Your clit throbbing as it continued to slide across his cock. Ashton’s hand flew up to grab your hips and he halted your movements. He swallowed hard and you smirked at him. “It’s not fun when you’re the one being teased huh?” you said. Ashton glared at your words before pinching at your hip. 

“Stop teasing,” he said in a raspy voice. You grinned at his words and leaned down to give him another kiss. This time your hips rose and you grabbed his cock and ran his tip between your folds for a few seconds before sinking down on him. You both simultaneously moaned and your face fell into the crook of his neck. Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to focus. It had been months since Ashton had last filled you up and your body molded into his perfectly. You missed this feeling. Once you had caught your breath you lifted up and looked down at Ashton. His teeth was sunk into his bottom lip as he stared at you in awe. You slowly lifted up until the head of his cock was the only thing inside of you and then you slid back down, starting a slow and steady pace. Ashton let out a throaty moan and began to move his hips up to match your speed. You began to roll your hips down in figure eights and the pace picked up. You rocked your hips against his and let out tiny moans. Ashton’s hand reached down to rub at your clit making your body shake above his. Your hands rested on the headboard and you began to really ride him. Tiny jolts of pleasure coursing through you. Ashton decided he wanted to control control the pace and his hands gripped at your hips. He took control and began to pound up into you. Your head fell back and you let out loud moans with you slightly distracted bythe pleasure, Ashton took the opportunity to flip you over onto your side. A small yelp left your lips at his actions and your leg draped over his hip. You giggled in surprise and he continued to thrust into you. Ashton was close and you had already came once, so getting him to his release was what drove you on. The pleasure was sending you into overdrive as Ashton tried to get you to another release. Ashton gave you a particularly sharp thrust and the head of his cock hit at your g-spot. Ashton pulled you closer and his lips landed on yours. He nibbled at your bottom lip and your tongues clashed together. The kiss broke and Ashton slowed down his pace to make you feel every inch of his cock. “I love you,” he whispered, feeling you start to clench around his length.

You had reached out to caress his cheek and your eyes rolled back into their sockets. “I love you too,” you cried out, breath fanning over Ashton’s skin. Your clenching became unbearable and Ashton grunted loudly as he came. You gasped at the feeling and your head fell back against the pillows. You both lazily grinned at each other and Ashton pulled out of you. You laid on your back and stared up at the ceiling in shock. Sleeping with Ashton was never your plan nor was him showing up at your doorstep. “I’m gonna go pee,” you sighed after a moment, peeling yourself from Ashton’s embrace and making your way to the bathroom. You flicked on the light and shuffled to the toilet, raising the lid of the toilet and sitting down to pee. You stared at the tile walls of the shower for a few seconds and then began to cry. You were a bit sad, but more in shock. With everything that had gone on you couldn’t believe you had caved. Ashton was still your husband so it wasn’t all bad, but you had still filed for divorce. Or at least tried to file since Ashton refused to sign the papers. Your head was spinning and you needed more sleep feeling exhausted now. You found your way back to bed, curling up besides an already sleeping Ashton and headed back to bed yourself. 

     The smell of bacon wafted into your room making you stir in your sleep. You turned over in your bed feeling the weight of it being much lighter than before. Your face nuzzled more into your pillow and you wanted to get more rest, but the smell of food was much more appealing than sleeping. Your body felt slightly heavy as you slid out of bed and you searched your floor for your shirt that Ashton had pulled off of you. Mouth opening to let out a yawn as you made your way out your room. The smell grew even more prominent as you came close to the kitchen. You stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, standing like a lost puppy at the sight of Ashton, and rubbing at your eyes. For a moment the events of the early morning had left your mind, but seeing Ashton brought them back. He was standing in front of your stove stirring something in a pot and flipping the bacon at the same time. Ashton had his back facing towards you and you were hit with a sudden feeling of comfort. He had often made breakfast when the two of you woke up from a long night. You could distinctly remember Ashton cooking you sausage and pancakes with strawberries on top. Fresh squeezed orange juice rested at the center of the table and a plate set up in waiting for the food to lay on it. Things were much simpler back then.

You had cleared your throat, catching Ashton’s attention by the sound. He looked worse than earlier. Hazel eyes less dilated than before, but still a tinge of red could be seen on his eyeballs. His facial hair looked as if it had grown even more and from the small crease in his forehead you knew Ashton was hungover. There were tiny bruises scattering his skin from the love bites you had given him. “I hope I didn’t wake you,” he said, giving you a sheepish smile. Ashton turned off one of the burners on the stove and placed the freshly cooked bacon on a plate. “Got hungry and I didn’t want to just cook for myself,” he said, voice coming out timidly. You nodded at his words and found yourself walking more into the kitchen to sit down at the table. Ashton wasn’t showing any sign of remembering what had happened. Though the goofey smile on his face showed that he remembered the two of you having sex. In fact he didn’t even seem surprised that he had woken up naked in bed next to you. Your eyes glanced towards the clock and you realized you had slept through the whole morning.

“Waffles and oatmeal?” you questioned, looking up at him with raised eyebrows when he began to pour the oatmeal into a bowl for you. Ashton looked down at the display of food and you could see a hint of a pink blush against his cheeks. 

“I wasn’t sure what you were hungry for so I made both,” he said, placing the hot pot back on the stove before taking a seat across from you. Ashton picked up a bowl of blueberries and he held it out for you to grab some. You grabbed a spoon and scooped up some of the fruit and placed it in your oatmeal. 

“Thanks.” The two of you ate in silence, avoiding each other’s gazes. It almost felt like old times again and for some reason you wanted to relish in it. Live as if nothing wrong had ever happened and that you two weren’t separated. The sound of forks scraping against plates and the sips of coffee was the only sound present in your home. You were surprised to see Ashton drinking something other than alcohol, but you weren’t going to voice your surprise out loud. Right now you wanted to avoid the drama. Alas the quiet moment ended all too soon by Ashton breaking the silence. 

“Y/N,” he whispered making your fork pause halfway towards your mouth and your gaze land on him. 

“Hm?” you mumbled, taking a bite out of the waffle and chewing slowly. Ashton rubbed at his facial hair and he looked down at his plate of food before meeting your gaze.

“I-um. I vaguely remember what occurred last night,” he said, “It’s showing up in my mind like jigsaw puzzles that I have to put together.” You could see his eyes cloud over in sadness, “One thing I do remember is making you cry,” he whispered. The image of your tears was clear as day in Ashton’s mind and it caused him pain to know that he was the reason for your tears. It was never his intention to hurt you. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but it happened more times than he could count and Ashton hated himself for that. You had stopped eating at his words and dropped your gaze. “I want to change for you, so I’ll do it-I’ll go to rehab and get sober for you,” he said. Ashton reached out to grab your hand and for some reason you didn’t pull away. “If I do this promise me that we’ll work it out? That you’ll stop wanting to divorce because I need you right here with me at all times. I won’t let go of you.” He looked at you hopefully and you chewed on your bottom lip as his words washed over you.

“The drinking stops and you’ll take some anger management classes?” you questioned, earning an eager nod from him. 

“I meant what I said last night. I still love you,” he repeated. You smiled at his words and then nodded.

“You get sober and I promise you we’ll work it out. No divorce,” you agreed, squeezing his hand in reassurance. Ashton grinned and the sides of his eyes crinkled in happiness. You had agreed which was all the motivation Ashton needed. He was going to change for the better and fix your marriage.

Partners

Summary: YN is teamed up with her former best friend, Dean Winchester to do a project. How will things go with between Y/N and her fuck boy partner? Will it be awkward, or will there be that sense of familiarity? 

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore, Lisa Braden, Bobby Singer, Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (College AU)

Warnings: Language, NSFW, smut, dirty talk, public sex, protected sex

Word Count: 5,530

Request:  Hi!! Do you think you could write me a fic with college!dean x reader where dean is the troublemaker fuqboi and reader is someone who’s really responsible (not really a nerd, she just doesnt like to procrastinate) and they need to complete a project together? Like maybe they’re in the library or computer lab trying to work on it but dean keeps flirting with reader and it ends with smut? Thanks! Xx ~Anonymous 

A/N: I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks @eloginore for editing this for me. As always feedback is always welcomed!

Originally posted by dean-sam-winchesterbros

Originally posted by perfectfeelings



“You son of a bitch!”

You immediately looked up from the book you were reading to see whom was yelling. It was no surprise that you saw Lisa Braeden, standing in front of Dean Winchester. She had her hands on her hips, as he leaned back in his chair, watching her.

“What was it you were telling me last night? Oh yeah, ‘I’m sorry, babe, I’m helping Sam with a project,’ and Cassie Robinson tells me you took her to the movies last night!”

“Yeah I did.”

“So you admit you’re cheating on me?!”

“Cheating?” he laughed, tilting his head back, as he sat up straight in his chair. “Lisa, we’re not even dating. How is that considered cheating?”

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like literally there would be outrage if people acted like this with children

“oh yeah bobby’s eight now but you know we just didn’t feel like upgrading so he’s still very happy in his crib”

“what do you mean they grow? he’s so small right now, won’t he stay that way?”

“listen this kid cries too much, I need a muzzle or something to keep his mouth shut”

“twenty years?? oh no that’s way too much commitment, we want one that won’t last that long. you know, an easy starter child”

“he stopped eating his meals, he only wants candy. I’m having to give him a bag a day!”

Boy Next Door (Part 3)

A/N: Ah yes! The last part of this fic! Hope you guys enjoy it. And thank you for the support for this fic. Like always, tell me what you think!

Warning: This is probably straight up cheese

First two fics can be seen here:

Part 1

Part 2

The one where Harry is jealous, and Y/N won’t stop blushing.

This had been an incredibly off day for Harry. He’s been trying his hardest to finish the melody of one song that he’s working on, but it’s just not coming along well. Y/N’s been there watching, hearing him groan or mumble commentaries about how terrible everything sounded, or how his voice doesn’t mix well with the melody. She didn’t see anything wrong about it really, or maybe she’s just a bit too biased because she absolutely adored Harry’s voice.

Keep reading

overdue (M) | one


gif by hoshikio

Ship: jungkook x reader

Summary of Part 1: You meet Jungkook in the library, and he asks you to keep his gift in exchange for your overdue book under the rug for the time being. You end up being his personal plaything when you learn he has complete control over your pleasure upon obeying his demand that you keep his gift somewhere special. Hint: the gift is a small vibrator you place in ya pants.  

Genres: smut, a little fluff, mostly smut

Warnings: dom-jungkook, sex toys, exhibitionism, edging, over-stim, multiple orgasms, choking

Part 1 / Part 2

Word Count: 3.6k

This was your usual sanctuary, whether you had a spare or had to stay late after school: the library. When you didn’t feel like socializing or just breathing people’s air, this place was where you would retreat. It was always quiet here, the friendly old librarian knew your face out of the hundreds of students that had come and go by now. You even started helping her with the book returns, which was the least you could do.

The massive bookshelves lined the library like pantheon partitions, each strewn with worlds you could escape into. You lightly smiled as you ran your fingers down the spines of the new books of the literature section as you thought, ‘do I feel like the classics today?’ taking slow steps between two shelves.

A figure walked past the shelves in your peripherals and you reflexively glanced towards the movement. For a split second, you saw a new face and met eyes, ‘never seen him around here before’, you wondered. He was lackadaisically pushing a wooden cart of books slowly assessing the signs when he made eye contact with you, his eyes lighting up for a moment before turning away to his path down the aisles. You couldn’t deny his uniform suited him well, and you were almost interested enough to want to go and speak to him. He had an intriguing aloofness that drew you to him, an impressive talk in his walk, as if every breathing entity worshiped the ground he walked on and more.

You shrugged the thoughts off and went back to perusing through the shelf, where you finally came across a potential book: Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka in hardcover. You reached for it excitedly and began to tug it out when you noticed some unusual resistance. You tugged at it a little harder but the book wouldn’t budge. In fact it was being pulled further the opposite direction–someone else was trying to grab it.

With minimal effort, the opposing force finally yanked Kafka out of your grasp.

“Hey!” You sharply whispered at the person on the other side of the shelf. You could only see a glimpse of a person’s broad chest shifting lower until you came face to face with him, the gap between the bookshelf being the only distance, ‘wooden cart guy’. You felt red in your cheeks for a moment from his handsome features being so close, but reverted back to frustration for your book. His doe eyes just stared back at you, eyebrows slightly in a curious raise, waiting. He knew what he was doing though, the game of cat and mouse had already begun for him. You just thought he grabbed the book by chance, despite your taking hold of it first.

“I’m sorry, did you want this?” he asked with a smug tone, a subtle smirk forming on his lips before relaxing again. You rolled your eyes and felt your shoulders tense, ‘someone hold me back from this boy’

“Yeah, so if I could have it back now,” You whispered with a hiss before giving him your best intimidating glare, “that’d be great.”

His mouth merely paused, then spread into a big smile, exposing his bunny teeth, before cracking up in a cheeky giggle with crinkles forming around his eyes, “Cute. Was that supposed to be your serious face?”

“Well—” The red came back to your cheeks and you darted your gaze away, straightening up from the book shelf as well. You crossed your arms impatiently, unsure of what to say until you held out your hand across the gap and mumbled out the words, “Just– can I–may I please have the book?” Who were you kidding? You were never any good at confrontation, why else would you spend time in the library with every chance you got. This was your safe place, your routine, calm and quiet. Not to mention, the person you’d run into was this mysterious and attractive new character in your domain; otherwise your comfort zone.

Expecting the cool surface of a paperback to touch the palm of your hand, you’re taken aback when you receive something much smaller, rounder. You pulled your hand back to find a peculiar gadget in your hand, no bigger than an inch, black and oval-like. You examine the thing, perplexed, keeping your hand open, fixated and confused as to why this stranger would hand you the thing. You looked back at him through gaps of the bookshelf and were about to ask what is was when he suddenly cleared his throat and fixed his posture. His voice was a murmur beyond the book shelf, complacent and smoothly averting you from your curiosity, “Alright, how 'bout I check you out?”

“Pardon?!” your voice remained in a whisper with your face scrunched from a mix of panic and confusion. 'I get it brain, he’s cute, and his low voice to keep from disrupting the serenity of the library was a little to-die-for, but get it together.’ your mind flooded with yellow flags.

“The book. Let’s check it out.” His voice was both firm yet polite but his playful smirk kept you on guard. He was pleased to see you stumbling over your words, unsure of your next move. He disappeared from the bookshelf gap, and so you quickly followed.

'He totally meant for me to take that the wrong way,’ disinterested, you slumped along before halting at the wooden semi-oval counters of the main library desk. This boy was definitely trying to tug you out of your comfort zone, and you weren’t having it.

“Mrs. Kim never had an assistant besides me in here,” You said as you idly rolled a pencil back and forth, trying to make up for the previous weakness in your manner by making small talk.

“I’m what you’d call a-–compulsory volunteer,” he said casually giving you a smile that flaunted more flirtation than a usual approachable geniality. “You’ll be seeing me around for a while, so I’m Jungkook. You are?”

'So you caused too much trouble, and now you’re being forced to work here,’ you thought to yourself before replying with your name bluntly. Your eyes wandered as he typed your name into the system. The computer buzzed and beeped, finally an error window popped up on the screen. Jungkook hid a slight curve of his mouth to the side, 'Just according to plan’, he thought. You were too focused on appearing nonchalant that you didn’t catch it.

“Ah tsk tsk, Ms. Y/N, I can’t check you out,“ he started,'stop wording it like that’ your inner voice fumed, and you could hear an exiguous enjoyment in his voice. “You have an overdue book: Demian.”

You were dumbfounded, you could have sworn you had returned it just before your spare ended the other day. You jerk your bag over your shoulder, rustling through it, your brows tinged with concern. It wasn’t in there. All the while, Jungkook watched on leaning back on the chair with arms crossed behind his head, amused by how easily unsettled you had become over a negligible matter. He couldn’t help but feel compelled to play with you more.

You looked back up to the boy, who smiled like a toddler hardly containing a secret. You immediately grew skeptical.

“I mean, I could just get the system to think you gave it back so you can take this book out and you could find the real book later,” He talked like a pompous businessman making a proud pitch but you listened anyway. “That is if–” He dragged the last word.

'Don’t say it’, You thought raising your brow tapping a finger incessantly on the counter and braced yourself for the incoming request for a date or even sleazier.

“You keep the gift I gave you,” he ended his note with a bright goofy smile, awaiting your response.

You were caught off guard by the unexpected offer. You let out a deep breath to keep your cool before you gave him a casual smile with undertones of confusion and reluctance. It sounded like a harmless request to you so you immediately wanted to agree but something in the pit of your stomach rolled with doubt, “That’s it?”

He nodded coolly before turning the chair back to the screen, looking like he was attending to other "compulsory volunteer” work. You stood there, feet rocking back and forth from heel to toe, unsure of why the request seemed dangerous. Deep in contemplation, you gave the corner of your bottom lip a little tug with your teeth. You had no idea of what the little device was, was it safe to just accept it for a book? Jungkook cleared his throat, eliciting you to lift your gaze back up to him. You couldn’t tear from Jungkook’s gaze, he seemed to be reeling you effortlessly out of your comfort zone, putting you in a trance strong enough for the word to escape easily from your docile lips “Okay.”

You didn’t know why but your heart pounded against your chest after uttering the one simple word, and you felt your throat had dried a bit. Maybe because part of you did know what it was, what it could be, and part of you wanted out of the comfort zone you had so meticulously carved for yourself through the library. Jungkook smiled before handing you his phone, earning an “Eh?” from you, some releasing some tension from the precedent silence.

“I’ll need your number for affirmation that you still have it,” he joked but something in his voice made it sound like more of a command. You submitted, because the request seemed admittedly harmless enough. What’s the worst that could come from giving this guy my number? You pick up the phone from the counter, your movement almost painfully slow in not wanting to show how much your hands were shaking. When you glanced at Jungkook, a cheeky innocent smile was plastered on his face, encouraging you to follow through.

*Save Contact*


Your phone screen blinked on, new message. It was already five past midnight, your friends knew your nose was deep in a book at this time and knew not to bug you so it captured you attention. You stopped your reading and unlocked the phone to see that it was from an unsaved number.

(555)-221-2858 - 12:05 AM - :
Taking good care of my gift? -JK

You glanced over at your bag, you hadn’t taken it out since your exchange at the library, and suddenly the pit in your stomach that had vanished upon leaving the library came back. The strong sense of uncertainty and willingness to your adhere to your new acquaintance was foreign to you. Finally, you typed a reply,

(Y/N) - 12:06 AM :
still in my bag, safe and sound i guess?

You stared tantalizingly at the three dots as he began typing moments after you had sent your text.

Jungkook - 12:06 AM :
that’s not where a gift should be kept you know :(

Your head tilted with intrigue, 'And what could you be inciting, Jungkook?’

(Y/N) - 12:07 AM :
so where do you suppose i should keep it?

This time the three dots took a little longer to appear, and you were annoyed at yourself, caught waiting for some strange boy’s text. He seemed to be typing forever but really, not more than a minute had passed. Part of you was craving any kind of conversation with him, and you couldn’t place why.

Jungkook - 12:10 AM :
only the rightful place that specific gift should be

Jungkook - 12:12 AM :
your panties

Your body tensed up in reading his last text, but you oddly weren’t disgusted. This wasn’t coming from some greased up, saggy-jeaned, prepubescent, axe-reeking teenage boy. This was coming from Jungkook, the compulsory volunteer with the bright bunny smile, an assertive walk in his talk, and apparently an authoritative hold of your inhibitions. This was what part of you guessed the gift was for, but it was such a small (hopeful) voice, it may as well had not been there at all. You type and barely construct a reply with enough sense to knock down this boy’s smug demeanor.

(Y/N) - 12:15 AM :
i don’t understand why a gift should have business anywhere near there.

Jungkook had a small smile at the corners of his lips as he read your replies, 'Even through your texts, I can see right through you, (Y/N)’

Jungkook - 12:17 AM :
come to school with the gift the way i want it and i’ll make you understand.

In pressing send, Jungkook was already certain of your next mood, he could feel your curiosity, your wonder, your desire to be driven out of your sanctuary away from the safety of peace and quiet, and he was more than happy to be doing the driving. Meanwhile, you were succumbing to the insane suggestion, something about the words “i’ll make you” staring back at you from the brightly lit screen. You replied nearly five minutes later after being torn between putting down and picking up the phone to type.

(Y/N) - 12:22 AM :
i’m going to sleep gnight

At nearly 1 am, you hopped onto your bed, your bag at your feet, the gift still waiting for you. You needlessly look to your door to ensure lights were off, and that everyone was asleep. Before you knew it, your hand reached for the bag.

Between classes, you returned the book after realizing you’d placed it back in its shelf instead of turning it in the book-return bin. Having no time left, you caught yourself scanning the library for a familiar tall, brown-haired figure. You shook your head and rushed to your English class.

To your surprise, Jungkook was the first person you saw upon entering the classroom. 'I would have noticed you before,’ you thought as you watched him walking over to his desk after talking to a friend. He seemed like any regular student, approachable and humourous. That is, until he looked over to you, and the familiar glint was back in his eyes, and he gave you a casual knowing smile and nod. His eyebrow seemed to raise as if to ask you if you had the gift as he directed. You licked your lips subconsciously, noticing they had dried and swallowed, about to nod, before stopping yourself to walk to your seat instead.

You begin pulling out the essentials, when your phone lights up in your bag, and you take it out to find a new message notification. You swiped with little hesitance.

Jungkook - 10:23 AM :
I can find out for myself you know

A stubborn nature grumbled in you, or more just the urge to challenge the boy to push you further.

(Y/N) - 10:24 :
I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.

Jungkook looked up from his phone to look over to you. You were in the second row, in the middle of the room, and he was only a row behind, a few seats down from you. He could find out with a clear viewpoint of the show. He began typing again.

Jungkook 10:28 AM :
pay close attention in class, (Y/N)

After reading his last text, your brows furrowed and you put the phone away as your teacher walked in.

With a keenly hidden smirk, Jungkook reached into his pocket, the teacher’s lesson was the last thing on his mind.

Your phone lit up, and you reflexively hide it under the table, to check what Jungkook could possibly be up to now.

Jungkook - 10:55 AM :
:)

'A smiley face? What kind of–’ *Click*

'What is this?’ your entire body flexed, you instantly sat up straight, your hands gripping at the edges of your desk. Your legs coiled around the legs of your chair. You felt your chest having to rise and fall noticeably, as the room seemed to be getting warmer. The pencil in your hand trembled and you blinked a long two seconds as your mind processed the sensation between your thighs. Your breathing, labored, as you struggled to keep your voice in check and your expression stoic. All the while, Jungkook tilted his head to better see your newly discovered distress. He bit his lip to see the way you squeezed your thighs together, desperately crossing your ankles; the way you gripped on the desk like your life depended on it; and the way your lips slightly parted to reveal the most subtle pant. He licked his lips at the sight, and stealthily wrapped his hand over his bulge, squeezing slightly before adjusting it.  

Jungkook’s gift was nestled in the middle of your lining, pressing, no, vibrating against your clit, at an unforgiving fervent pace. The sudden stimulation had you almost jumping out of your seat, catching you completely off guard. Your felt your lungs cave in upon realizing the teacher had been calling your name, directing you to the projector, repeating his question,

“What does the glass ceiling represent, (Y/N)?” he didn’t look impressed by your getting distracted from the lesson.

Jungkook’s devious smile peaked the surface once more with a slight chuckle as he looked over at what you’d do. You squinted at the screen, composing yourself, pushing yourself to pretend that the rush of pleasure wasn’t coursing through every nerve in your body, emanating from your core.

“The glass ceiling,” you began sounding more shy than vulgar, “is an abstract barrier that prevents–” *Click* You gasped abruptly, catching more of your classmates’ attention, and receiving concerned stares. The vibrating grew more intense, pushing you closer to the edge. Your could barely hide the frantic look in your eyes as you attempted to continue.

“Prevents women from attaining higher positions in a hierarchy,” You practically had no spaces between the words as you tried your hardest to finish your answer in one breath. Some slight relief washed over you, lifting some pressure off your shoulders. ‘Goddammit Jungkook’

The teacher raised a skeptical brow at you, cleared his throat, and returned to the lesson after affirming that your answer was correct. The class proceeded to slowly revert back to the regular classroom atmosphere, their attention no longer on you, excluding the few lingering looks. You proceeded to look as normal and unfazed as you could until the last of the stares and murmurs had died down.

You glanced at Jungkook who flashed you an innocent smile, and your panicked glance turned into a glare.In an instant, the innocent smile had vanished, and you felt your pussy quivering at the sight of his tongue gliding along his bottom lip, and biting down, adding a tint of red in his lips. He batted his eyes, inviting, challenging you, before reaching his hand into his pocket again. *Click*

You’re flooded with waves of impassioned gratification, you could swear that if you weren’t in the middle of a classroom, your eyes would be rolled up to a close by now. Your converse scuffled against the tiled floor, toes curling and feet sliding to straighten your legs. You bit harder on your lip, a quiet moan escaping the restraints of your willpower. You looked back at Jungkook, to beg him to stop the agonizing bliss. At this point, you were getting so close to an extreme high that you’d an impatient longing for, you didn’t know whether you wanted him to stop or turn the intensity of the convulsions even more.

His eyes were glued to you, getting more and more turned on with the way you were getting off to his gift. He longed to kiss that flushed face, bury his face between your legs, and pull your hair as he pounded mercilessly into you while the toy vibrated against your clit. He wanted to hear the greed in your moans after giving you orgasm after orgasm until you became addicted to his touch; until you wanted nothing more than to have him inside you.

As he fantasized, keeping his eyes fixated on you with his bulging becoming increasingly visible, you kept his gaze. You imagined his strong hand pinning your arms over your head against the wall, his other hand wrapped around your throat with a grip rough and gentle enough to allow a generous breath in and out of your lungs, as he ravaged your dripping heat. The vibrator was so intense and you had become so wet, you could feel it slipping between your lips and touching your clit directly. The rush made your entrance quiver and your grip on the table made your knuckles white. Your breathing became choppy, stopping completely as you felt you were only a moment before reaching the carnal climax. Being in the middle of a classroom with the high risks of being noticed only added to the thrill. You closed your eyes, jaw dropped ajar, keeping your pants light and silent. Just a little more, the friction against your clit drove you over the edge, you were going to come, so your eyes fluttered open to look over at Jungkook again. Whatever resolve you had before was no where to be found. All that mattered to you was the sweet release, and Jungkook gave you a knowing look before slowly inching his fingers to his pocket one last time.

You stared, bracing yourself, biting your tongue, anything you could do to prevent letting out a most embarrassing moan as you climaxed in the middle of all your unsuspecting classmates.

*Click*

“Eh?” you freeze, you could feel your body wincing in disappointed. The vibrating came to a complete stop, the sensation gone leaving you in a whole other level of hopeless torment. So close, small tears had welled up in your eyes as you looked over weakly to Jungkook, who gave you only a wink.

“That son of a bitch,” you cursed under your breath that you couldn’t deny sounded more like a sensual whine.

A/N : I may have completely changed the direction of this story as well as the theme. Idk i just didn’t feel the the original had enough sexual tension, not enough sin at all. Decided to fix that, hope you enjoyed, I’ll be here washing off with a dab of holy water because this is just the tip of the iceberg

Against the World - Tony Stark x Reader

Request: I completely lost the pure request itself and all the kind things I remember you saying, but this is basically a Tony!YoungReader where he doesn’t like the age difference between them but still loves her!

Warnings: Age difference, (25 year old reader x Tony) kissing.

Words: 2 475

A/N: Sorry for being away for a couple of days! I’ll try and post more next week. Please tell me what you think! (Also I’m sorry for any typos I’m too lazy to read through this one as I’m posting it.)

TAKING REQUESTS!

Originally posted by mamalaz


He took a sip of his coffee, walking down the long, glass-walled, hallway to the lab he had occupied with his current project. He was more than tired. Closer to wrecked. He had slept for three hours in his room at the Tower before he had woken up. Day and night he worked and woke up just as he started falling asleep. It was like he was in a spiral of bad habits and he couldn’t get out-

He lowered the cup from his lips, his jaw dropping and eyes staring into Y/N’s lab where she was sat at a workbench, leaning over her latest project with intense focus. Her dedication to science and tech was something he did not just admire tremendously, but it was insanely attractive. So few women in his life shared his interest with the same amount of passion as he did.

He was so mesmerized by her that he barely noticed her catching him looking and waving at him through the glass wall. He hastily waved back and swallowed harshly, stepping inside the lab he had given her, which was the one as close to his as possible.

“Hey.” He smiled as she took a break from her tinkering. “You’re up early.”

She looked up at the clock on the wall which stood at barely six in the morning. She shrugged, smiling warmly and being much more awake than him. “I went to bed early last night.” She explained and he wished the same would apply to him. It felt as if his body could shut down at any second.

“Oh, likewise.” He huffed, attempting to sound reassuring but only exaggerating his nervousness. “Got some good shuteye and now I’m ready for the day.”

“Really? Those bags under your eyes says otherwise.” She raised a brow and watched the dark and sulking skin under his reddened eyes which were begging for sleep.

He rubbed his free hand up and down his neck, forcing a smile to not let his spirits drag her beautiful soul down. “Okay, so maybe I didn’t get as much as I wanted, but I’m still ready to work.”

She stood up from her seat with a hopeless sigh, walking towards him. Tony froze as she walked around him and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“You need sleep, Tony. You’re always working and it’s taking its toll. I mean, geez, your muscles are ridiculously in need of this right now.” She said and squeezed his shoulders, rubbing her thumbs into the muscles with whatever skill she had learnt from practicing on others.

“Oh yeah, whatever, little to the left.” He said sarcastically whilst putting his coffee down, knowing it’d put a smile on her face.

She chuckled behind him and squeezed a wince out of him by roughing her grip on his shoulders again. “Stop! It’s not funny, okay?” She spoke between her ceasing laughter. “This is about your health and you need to take it more seriously.”

“I am taking it seriously. I’m having you massage my shoulders.” He said just as cockily as before, but this time she didn’t laugh. Instead, she grabbed his shoulders and spun him around to truly lecture him, but the surprisingly close space between them rendered her silent.

Her hands were on his shoulders, her eyes locked onto his lips before moving up to his warm, brown, eyes. He was equally as lost in her. His eyes weren’t able to tear away from her own lips, not even when he noticed how she looked up into his eyes. He was barely in control of his right hand that slowly began to move from her hip and up her side. Her arms reached further and her hands traveled from his shoulders to the back of his neck and he could feel her cautiously pull him down for her but it was there he snapped out of it.

“I’m-” He felt pathetic, tears burning in his eyes and threatening to slip. “I can’t.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“You’re-” He didn’t know what to say either. He let his eyes flutter close as if Y/N would go away if he did.

“I’m what?” Her voice broke and his heart ached at her fear of not being good enough for him. If she only knew how opposite their reality was.

“You’re young…” He couldn’t leave her to imagination. He didn’t have the heart. “You’re too young…”

She was at a loss of words at first, but she had always been quick witted, another quality he loved about her amongst the dozens of others. “I’m twenty five, Tony. There’s just…”

“Over two decades between us.” He completed her sentence.

“Why does that matter? Is it because of your own opinion, or because of others?” She retorted instantly. He didn’t want to answer that question. She would end up being right in the end and he would end up torturing himself for submitting.

“Because I’m old enough to be your father-”

“But you’re not.” She closed the space between them again and he couldn’t tear away as she placed one hand over his cheek, using the other one to guide his hand back to her side. “You’re not my father. You’re my coworker, my friend… And I can’t be the only one of us that have felt the electricity between us the past, few months.”

She wasn’t. Every day he would be tortured by her. She felt like the forbidden fruit to him, testing his temptation.

“Please tell me I’m not standing here and you don’t feel a thing for me?“

“God no.” He couldn’t let her continue on that track. “Of course I feel something too, Y/N, but it’s not right. I should know better.”

“You shouldn’t.” She attempted to pull him down to her again and he gave in slightly, causing her lips to practically move over his as she spoke. “Who says this isn’t right? I sure as hell don’t.”

“Well, the rest of the world does…” He sighed, shutting his eyes and inhaling her calming scent.

“Why would you care about the rest of the world? They don’t have anything to do with us…” She stood up on her tiptoes and reached for his lips with her own, but he pulled back once more, no intention of submitting to her again.

“Y/N, please… This is already difficult for me…” He pleaded and she was beginning to feel how much of a fool she was making of herself by continuing to push Tony. “Don’t make it any harder.”

She felt the embarrassment creep up her cheeks, wanting nothing more than to reverse time and tell Tony she was busy as he had came into her workshop. “Sorry…”

That single word had been like a knife through his heart. He wanted to grab her, kiss her like the world depended on it, but he remained still. He watched the hope in her eyes of something more than coworkers vanish gradually until it was gone.

“I’m gonna go now…” She stated as she began to move towards the door out. He was too lost in his own thoughts to do the right thing and leave her alone in her lab. Instead, he watched her leave him, regretting everything he had said and done.


It had been a week of horrid conversations where they would barely exchange a couple of words. The team had noticed since day one and the anxious awkwardness was starting to leave permanent damages. The more time that went by the more it felt as if their relationship would remain like that forever.

He was sat in his private lounge, slowly sipping on some bourbon and watching the landing slide which hovered above the balcony, when the elevator dinged and the doors opened up.

It was Y/N.

“Hi…” She forced a smile, watching Tony hastily put down his drink and get up from the couch, turning towards her.

“Hello…” His lips parted, barely believing she was speaking to him. He glanced down her clothes which were promotional of Stark Industries, yet she looked as good as ever.

“I was just worried since you missed dinner.” She looked behind him to his drink before meeting his eyes again. She could tell how little sleep he must have gotten. He looked awful, like he hadn’t slept for the entire week since their moment in her lab.

“I did?” He questioned, looking down at the watch wrapped around his wrist to see it was nearing midnight to his surprise. “I- I didn’t realize…”

“I was also wondering what we are going to do about this?” She motioned between them. “I can’t live here if this… Cold shoulder, is going to last. I don’t have a problem in moving I could go back to-”

“Don’t.” He warned her, walking up to the elevator where she remained. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

“I’m not joking, Tony, don’t you realize that? I understand that I crossed the line this past weekend and you have every right to ignore me, but I can’t have this in my life. This… Denial, this neglect…”

He looked down her plum lips, feeling the bourbon wander to his mind and cloud his judgment. “Please don’t move…” He begged, taking yet another step closer and becoming just as close as the time where their feelings had begun to reveal.

“Don’t be so cold towards me.” She bargained, hoping he would accept her offer. She looked up at him and saw how he evidently had his stare glued to her lips and not her eyes, her pure reflexes parting her lips which had became Tony’s invitation.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, feeling the sweet taste of white wine from the long dinner she had surely had with the others. He let his right hand rest beneath her ear and his left one at her back, bringing her closer and sighing as she wrapped her arms around his neck, their kiss deepening.

“Tony…” She attempted but was cut off by his lips wrapping around her own. She couldn’t resist him. She wanted her common sense to take action but she had felt something for Tony for too long to deny his incredibly joyful kisses.

She felt his hands inch down, passing over her behind, before resting at her thighs where he launched her up to wrap her legs around his abdomen. She complied and let him carry her to the backless part of the lounge sofa where he laid her down carefully.

“I love you.” He emitted from nowhere, making her hand push him away from her to meet his stare.

“What?” She didn’t want to believe it.

“I love you… I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ll say it a thousand times more because it’s the truth.” His hips moved down to between her legs as he leaned in for another kiss, savoring her lips.

“However much I want to believe this, you’ve been drinking tonight.

“That’s my first glass.” He answered truthfully, although she found that hard to believe. “I swear to you Y/N, this is me talking, not the liquor.”

“Really?” She questioned. “Then hoe come you changed your mind? Last Saturday you sounded pretty clear in what you wanted.”

She allowed him to dip down for yet another kiss and her stomach fluttered as his tongue slid against her gracing lips, sending a shiver through her body which left goosebumps in its wake.

“Because of what you said. Why should I care about the rest of the world? They don’t have a goddamn thing to do with you and I.

“Tony…” She knew he was tipsy, no matter what he said. He kissed her again and she sighed at the sweet sensation. “If you can, without regret, kiss me in the morning? Then we can talk… I don’t want you to do something that you’ll regret.”

He let out a long and deep breath, looking down to where their bodies met as he hovered above her.

He gave in. “Alright. Tomorrow morning.” It sounded almost like a promise.


She heard a knock on her door at seven in the morning. She hurried to get dressed, too newly awoken to have any clear thoughts. She rushed to the door as the third knock erupted and opened it up. In the hallway outside stood Tony, a look of determination on his face.

Just as the silence between them began to grow too long and she was about to break it by saying something, Tony crossed the space between them and kissed her again. She allowed herself to mold into his arms and enjoy the feeling of his gentle lips against hers.

“See?” He said as he broke loose, chest heaving. “No regrets.”

She looked up into his innocent eyes. “Really?” She couldn’t help but question. He had seemed so determined when they first spoke about whatever it was they had between them. To see such a drastic change seemed too good to be true.

“Two hundred… I’m so sorry that I rejected you before, so sorry for the things I said. That’s not how I feel… This is.” He kissed her again and together they stumbled into her bedroom until they backed up against a wall.

She chuckled as they clumsily moved around, her hands holding herself steady on his sturdy shoulders.


He rushed around the car to get the door for her. She rolled her eyes at his hopeless need to be a gentlemen to her at all times, yet smiling as widely as ever at his kind gesture.

Two months had passed since the kiss in her bedroom. Together they had planned and thought of a way to let the team know what was happening, even if most of them had felt the loving warmth that had erupted between one another.

“You ready?” Tony asked as he laced his fingers with hers in front of the five star restaurant he had booked entirely for the team to have a dinner at. She shook her head no but smiled, tightening the grip of his hand which, was as much of a yes as he was going to get.

They walked inside together a few minutes passed the scheduled time to have everyone gathered. As the doors opened up at their arrival, the entire team turned towards them, their eyes lowering to where Tony and Y/N’s hands were connected.

“Sorry we’re late.” Tony apologized as he led Y/N to her seat and pushed the chair in after her before taking his own seat. “Traffic was awful.”

“Like traffic is the thing we want to be talking about right now?” Rhodes said, pulling his head back and raising his brows as he looked between the two.

You Get What You Give (Swing and a Miss)

Requested: Yes

Summary: Where Harry’s just begun his solo career and performing is everything that he’s ever dreamed of; he can’t help but feel so alone sometimes though. Feeling as though everyone has someone, and he’s so out of the loop with his love life that it brings an imbalance. However, you can’t take everything and expect to give nothing in return or for everything to be ok for forever.

Word Count: 2,228

Pairing: Harry Styles x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Slight cursing

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Cold | Jughead Jones

Originally posted by jugheadjones94


Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: Being a Blossom and dating the school’s super sleuth doesn’t exactly have a happy ending.

Warnings: some swears, maybe. and mentions of death bc jason blossom u know.

Word Count: 2240

A/N: okay this turned out better than I thought. figuring out a title for this was v hard but thanks The Veronicas for having v fitting songs. It’s left open for a part two but that’s up to you guys. Just lemme know <3

Being a Blossom wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to begin with thanks to all the rumours and speculation around your family that had been passed down over the years but the moment Jason Blossom had died, it became the hardest thing in the world. People would constantly stop you whenever they saw you, whether it was in the streets or at school just to give you their condolences. People were constantly staring at you watching and waiting for you to breakdown and the thing you hated the most were the people that would constantly be asking if you were okay.

Okay? How could you be okay when your brother had died? Not only died, he’d been murdered and nobody knew who it was. Every single person in town was a suspect even you. Your parents were on a mission to find out who did it but in the progress of that they seemed to be forgetting or didn’t care about how you and your sister Cheryl were feeling. Not once had either of them made sure you were okay or gave you a hug. Just a simple hug from your mum or dad would’ve helped, it really would’ve. But, no. You and Cheryl just had each other and that was okay.

To most people, Cheryl was a stuck-up bitch who didn’t care what anyone thought about her.  That was a façade, though. The real Cheryl, the Cheryl you’d grown up with was a kind, sweet, troubled girl that just wanted love. She just wanted someone to be there for her but she was stubborn and had built up walls so much that letting people in was hard. The only person she trusted was you and vice versa. You had each other and that’s what mattered. When you were at school though, that was a whole different world. Cheryl was the popular cheerleader who had her big group of friends while you were the ‘boring’ Blossom. That’s what you’d branded yourself as. Jason and Cheryl had been the popular ones that were head of the school food chain and you were the plain jane Blossom. You’d much rather just write and spend time by yourself than be surrounded by people who only used you for the popularity. That wasn’t to say you didn’t have friends or people didn’t care about you. That wasn’t the case at all. You had a few friends and Jason’s friends always made sure you were looked after now your brother was gone but you didn’t have anything solid. More than anything you wished you had a best friend.

That was when Jughead Jones came into play. He was the mysterious, super-sleuth that was trying to solve your brother’s murder. It didn’t bother you too much that he was. Besides, it wasn’t like you could stop him anyway. You and Jughead had always been friendly to each other – more acquaintances than anything but one day when you were feeling especially down and sad, that all changed.

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In the Nick of Time (Peter Parker x Reader Angst)

Request: anonymous asked: can you do an angsty fic that maybe ENDS with fluff but it’s peter x mj (i’d prefer for it to be mj but you could do reader, and she knows he’s spider-man) and mj gets kidnapped and tortured reallllyy bad (almost dies) and peter almost doesn’t make it in time to save her? (i would prefer for it to end with a lil fluff but you can run with it haha)

Word Count: 2,863 (omg)

Warnings: angst, kidnapping, some torture, blood

A/N: thank you dear anon who requested this, however i’m sorry that it’s not a peter x mj but this is so because I wanted to keep the prompt as accurate as possible and i wanted to stay true to homecoming’s mj and how she ‘doesn’t need to be rescued’ but wow so this turned out longer than expected! I also kept the reader gender neutral so 👍🏼 ayyyyyy. anyway i’m quite proud of how this turned out, even if i haven’t proofread at all (sorry if you see grammar shit)

this is my first angsty fic too, so please feedback is ALWAYS appreciated! ❤️




The branches overflowing with soft leaves bent softly in the cool breeze shaded you as you focused on the book in your lap. The words on the page transported you away from the serene afternoon park setting. So much so that you almost didn’t hear Peter get up from next to you.

“I’m gonna go grab some coffee,” he pointed to the stand that sat yards away. “You want?”

You looked up from your escape. “Uh, yes please!” you replied. How could you possibly pass up an opportunity for free coffee.

“Your usual?”

“You know it,” your head dropped back down to the book as Peter strolled off, and you escaped this reality once again.

As you turned the pages, the plot thickened and a twist was coming. Your eyes flew across the pages faster and faster, you yearning to find out what would happen next. You grabbed the corner of the page to reveal—

Something clamped over your mouth. You stiffened, eyes shot wide with alarm, jarred back to reality. Dropping your book, your hands clawed at an arm. You tasted faint sweetness from the wet cloth over your mouth as your screams caught in your throat. Your legs thrashed this way and that as you struggled to wriggle from the sturdy grasp. The world started to darken and your eyelids grew lead heavy. You felt oddly tired, and you realized the wet on the cloth was probably some kind of sedative. Panicking, you searched for Peter through your faded vision. You tried to turn towards the kiosk to see if he was still there. Could he see what was going on? Did he know what was happening? Why wasn’t anyone doing anything? Surely someone could see this. Why was nobody helping? Why now? Why me of all— The questions stopped racing through your head as the world faded to black.


Peter was rocking back and forth on his feet waiting for the coffee, when he felt the hairs on his arm stand up. An odd feeling washed over him. Brows furrowed, he swiveled to look back to the tree you had been reading under. His stomach dropped at the sight of a book laying open and the jacket that had been draped over your legs. Peter saw a flash of your red converse disappear behind an battered off-white van hastily parked on the street near the tree. NO! he thought. He ignored the barista calling his name, and instead took off for the van.

“(Y/N)!” Peter screamed. He leapt over a park bench, hardly slowing down. The van peeled away, Peter in hot pursuit. He realized, however, that he couldn’t very well just go chasing after in his current state. Cursing, he briskly fired a tracker at the van, then sprinted towards his apartment.

How could I let this happen? he thought. He was always careful not to reveal his identity when he was out fighting crime. And he was positive that no one had seen you and Spiderman together. Maybe it was random? Maybe it wasn’t because you knew he was Spiderman. But he still felt the guilt gnawing away at his heaving chest.

As soon as Peter got to his room, he threw his suit on and checked the tracker. The van was crossing Brooklyn bridge, headed for Manhattan. He leapt out his bedroom window and swung, hoping he could catch up to it before it stopped. He tried to push the fact that his lungs were burning and his breath felt like fire in his throat out of his mind. He tried to ignore any fears and ‘what if’s that nagged in the back of his head. He only focused on one thing: that he would save you.


Your eyelids felt as heavy as your bag the day before finals. As you struggle to lift them, you felt your wrists squeezed between arm rests and tightly wrapped duct tape. From the way your feet were tingling and slightly numb, you guessed the same had been done to them too. You panicked when you realized you couldn’t open your mouth, and for a second forgot how to breathe. Remembering you had a nose, you started to inhale deeply but quietly, trying to slow your rapid heartbeat.

As you tilted your head up, you glanced around. You were in some abandoned warehouse. How typical. Yellow-tinged windows lined the top of all the brick walls, their hue deepened by the sunset-colored sky. Metal platforms stretched overhead, reaching along and across the interior. On the floor a few feet away from you was a table of instruments.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Terror clinched your chest. Questions began racing through your head once more.

Shit shit shit shit. This can’t be about Peter right? I haven’t told anyone! And there’s no way we’ve been seen together when he’s Spiderman… right? It’s still light out so I haven’t been out long, I think. But still, how long has it been? Does Peter know? Is he coming? Is anyone coming? Oh God, what are they gonna do?! Who are ‘they’?!

As if to answer your question, a truck swerved in through the open gate and screeched to a halt. Five men got out, all wearing masks and shabby all-black clothing. Two walked over to the gate and began to close it. One walked past you, you turned back to see him post guard by a back door. The other two men strolled to the table, and you stiffened in the chair. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

Your knuckles became white as you clutched the arm rests. You slowly inhaled, careful not to make it obvious, as you repeated in your mind: Don’t. Give. Up. Peter.

The shorter of the two men by the table approached you slowly. He glared down at you, smirking slightly, “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, aren’t ya?” You didn’t dare move. “Well,” he sighed, “a little birdie told a little bird who told me that you’ve been seen with that Spider hero dude.” He reached down and ripped the tape off your mouth. Well looks like I won’t need to wax that, you thought as the stinging brought tears to your eyes.

But I fuckin’ knew it! you thought. Of course it’s about Peter, er, Spiderman. You looked at the ground, “Haven’t a lot of people?”

The man chuckled through his mask, “Ah yes, yes. You’re not wrong.” He backed up to the table and picked up a small metal knife. Your breath hitched. “However,” he strolled forward, “you have been seen with him on multiple accounts, young miss.” He squat down in front of you, “So, one can only assume you two’s be knowin’ each other.” The light caught the metal as he spun it between his pointer and thumb.

“Now,” he continued, “I hate to ruin your day any further—it did look like you were enjoying it quite a bit earlier—” Your eyes blazed with anger. “So why don’t you just tell me the name of this fellow, and we’ll be on our merry way?”

Part of you wanted to just make up a name. You knew they weren’t leaving without a name that you weren’t intending to give. But what if someone actually had that name? You’d have just put a target on their back. Stall, (Y/N), just stall. Peter’s coming. I’m sure of it.

“Can I ask why?” you carefully asked.

“Why?” the man repeated.

“Y-y-yeah… Why?” you restated. “I mean why do you want to know his name? You know? Like why not just catch him when he’s out and about doing his, uh, his Spidey stuff?”

“Ahhhh, good point, little miss,” you cringed at his reply. “See, this Spider guy, he messed with some people whom I consider good people, good friends in fact. Well this Spider guy completely ruined their business, even got a few of ‘em sent downtown. Which, well, they weren’t too happy with that, now were they? So—” he shrugged, “—they tell me how they got in there, and how they want this Spider guy fixed up. Eye for an eye kinda thing, ya know? So me being a good friend and all, I say ‘yeah’.

“So you’re gonna ruin his business then send him to jail?”

“No, nonono. More like, hurt him by hurting those he cares about, then send him six-feet under, that kinda thing.”

Breathe you told yourself as dread took ahold of your body. “That doesn’t sound like a very fair ‘eye for an eye’ kinda thing…”

“Quit stallin’, little miss, just give me the name.”

“But what if I don’t know his name?” you challenged, trying to keep your voice steady and calm.

“‘Scuse me?”

For the millionth time that day, your heart dropped. “I mean, like, yeah I’ve met Spiderman a few times, but, I… I don’t know his name. Like behind the mask. That guy. The guy behind the mask’s name. I don’t know it,” you stammered as smoothly as possible. Good going, idiot. There’s no way that sounded convincing.

The man in front of you slowly nodded his head. “I see…” he responded. He stood up. “Well, young miss, that’s quite alright. Not your fault.” The calm tone in his voice caused you to not be so. “But seeing as he’s quite familiar with you…” Quick as lightning, his hand shoved the knife in the crook of your elbow. You yelped, gasping as the sharp pain throbbed up your right bicep. Shaking, you looked down, trying to register the silver jutting out parallel to your forearm. Your assailant bent down until he was eye level with you. Without moving your head, your eyes glared up at him, furious and fearful. “A little birdie also told me he has super-hearing. So we’ll just draw him here with your screams, how’s about that, little miss?”


Peter was in Harlem when he heard the first scream. Even from miles away, he was able to pick it up, and there was no missing it. When he heard it, he faltered, forgetting for a moment to shoot a web. He fell onto a rooftop, but didn’t even register that pain. The only pain he felt was the guilt and the panic eating away at his chest. He knew it was his fault. The pain he heard was because of him. And it didn’t stop there.

The screams continued as Peter raced with a new fervor. Every time he heard it, he grit his teeth to keep from crying out himself. He flew through Harlem, over the river, through Bronx. Even though he was growing closer and closer to that blinking red dot, the outcries ate away at him more and more.


As you drew in a sharp, shallow breath, you could feel the blood gurgling deep in your throat. With every inhale, the blade in your stomach seemed to dig deeper and deeper. Your heart was racing so fast, like never before. You felt blood dripping down your shin, gluing your shirt to your abdomen, seeping down your arm. Your hair was matted all over your face. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, to release your anguish somehow; but you couldn’t do anything but focus on the pain.

You could barely keep your eyes open. All you wanted to do was to sleep. Maybe you could just sleep the pain away. The conscious part of you told you not to; that that would be the end. But most of you didn’t even care. You just wanted sleep.

Just as your eyes closed, you heard a crash that sounded worlds away. You winced as gunshots echoed throughout the warehouse. A blurry figure approached you.

“(Y/N),” it murmured. You forced your eyes open, of which they stayed for only a second, but that was all you needed.

“Peter,” you breathed.

“I’m so sorry,” he sniffed. The bounds were ripped off your wrists and ankles, and Peter’s arms slid under your body. You whimpered, as the slightest movement sent waves of agony throbbing through your entire body. Timidly, he removed his arms and you felt his gloved hands cradling your lolling head.

“I’m so so so sorry, (Y/N),” he repeated. “Mr. Stark is coming, I called him a while ago, so he should be here soon. God, I am so sorry—” his voice cracked as he tried to choke back a sob. Warm tears were rolling down his cheeks and he was biting his lip so hard. All he could think was this was his fault. You were dying because of him.

“No,” you whispered. “No no no… Peter it’s… it’s not your fault…” you drifted off closing your eyes.

“No nonononononono, hey, hey, stay with me, (Y/N). Please, please. Don’t close your eyes just yet, lo—look at me. Hey hey hey! Yeah that’s it just look at me—”

“Shhh,” you breathed. Your eyes fluttered, “I just…” you sighed, “I just wanna sleep, Peter—”

“NO!” Peter cried, desperate. “No, no, you can’t. Not yet, ok?” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. It’s warmth spread down to your cheeks, and you let out a sigh. He stroked your right cheek with his thumb. “Just… just uh… just wait for Mr. Stark to get here, ok?”

“Tell him to hurry up,” you mumbled. The only thing you could feel was the jabbing in your stomach and Peter’s hands on your cheeks, and it was getting increasingly harder to even occasionally blink, much less keep your eyes fully open.

“He—He’s here! He’s here, (Y/N)! Just a little longer, ok? Please—hey hey! Mr. Stark!” Peter’s voice rose pitches higher as a low-tuned roaring drew closer.

You couldn’t stand it anymore. You heard the word Stark and you relaxed. Your head went completely limp in Peter’s hands as you drifted off into the sleep you had so craved.


Shockingly bright light slowly seeped in your sight as you blinked awake. You gradually took in the view of the hospital room, and finally noticed the mound of soft brown curls laying next to your right hand. A soft chuckle escaped your mouth, immediately followed by a sharp jab just below your ribs. You winced, taking note to breathe much more carefully. You gingerly brought your fingers up and wove them through the fluffy mass. Slowly, Peter shifted his head to look up at you, confused at first, but then delightedly surprised. He shot up, leaning forward in his chair.

“H—Hey, hi!” he grinned. “How you feeling?”

Your cheeks lifted slightly as you felt a soft smile plaster itself on your face. Seeing him this happy was one of the greatest things to wake up to. Even if you could see the tinge of worry behind those beautiful coffee-colored eyes.

“I’m ok,” you sighed. “Hurts to breathe, to move, to pretty much exist right now, but uh… yeah. I’m ok.”

Peter’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I—” he began.

“No, no, Peter,” you cut him off. “Don’t start with the ‘I’m sorry’s again please? You don’t have to be sorry cuz it wasn’t your fault, alright?” You hissed, voice hoarse, “You’re the one who came for me, who wanted to help me.”

Peter wrung his hands together, “But I—”

You shakily reached down to grab his hands; you could still feel the knife right in the bend of your elbow. “Peter, please. If not for yourself then do this for me,” you laced your fingers through his, eyes pleading to his own. “Don’t kick yourself for this, ok? I will heal, I’ll be fine. We’ll be more careful when you’re out there, make sure no one sees us together, but—”

“See?! It was my fault!” Peter cried. His hands went limp against your own. “This… we can’t…”

“Stop, Peter. I already know where you’re going with this. You’re not gonna bail on me just to ‘protect me’ and crap, alright? Sure, maybe I can’t be seen hanging out with Spiderman as often, but that sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop hanging out with my best friend!”

Peter sighed a deep sigh, “I’m still sorry, though. I feel like I need to do something but I dunno what I can do.”

You gazed at him for a moment, appreciating his worried brows and concerned eyes. Mustering as much strength and effort as you could, you scoot yourself to the left, huffing for a moment as you felt all the pain return back and worse than ever. You nodded your head to the space next to you, “You can just sit here and chill with me.”

Peter slid onto the bed, not once letting go of your hand. You let your head rest on his shoulder, and he let his rest on your head. You both lay there, breathing even, hearts calm, hands intertwined, feeling comfortable and safe with your best friend firmly next to you.

The nurse who came into your room for a routine check in was greeted with the sight of two teenagers fast asleep, faint but tired smiles adorning both faces.