do you see the way she looks at him

the-queen-sees-all  asked:

I was wondering, what if Harry and Hermione had met before Hogwarts?

The first time Harry Potter met Hermione Granger, she was standing with her chin up and her hands on her hips a few paces from the old olive tree in the schoolyard, glaring into the far distance. The wind was trying to twist and buffet her hair into her face, but mostly it was just tangling cheerfully with itself.

Dudley and Piers were busy kicking all the other kids off the play structure, so Harry had retreated out into the grass. He stood a safe distance from the weird girl who was pretending to be a statue and thought wistfully of lunch.

“There’s a fallen bird’s nest,” the girl said in a rapid and certain tumble of syllables. “The boys knocked it out of the tree, but I chased them off and I’m hoping the mama bird comes back. I’m Hermione Granger. We just moved here.”

“Harry,” he said.

“How’d you get that scar?” she said.

“Car accident.”

“That’s a weird scar for a car accident.”

Harry shrugged. “It killed my parents.”

She blinked quickly at him and even at that distance he wished vaguely that she wore glasses, too, because her gaze was something that really felt like it should have some built-in bluntedness. “Mine are dentists. Mum’s taking me to the library after school, want to come?”

-

Before they went into Diagon Alley, Harry asked Hagrid if they could find a payphone. Hermione picked up on the first ring.

“Harry! Where have you been? I’ve been trying and trying to call–”

“Sorry, yeah. Um, so, I’m not coming back to school next year, I…” Harry drifted off, staring at Hagrid’s massive moleskin shoulders. The giant man saw him looking and gave him a tentatively cheerful little wave. “It’s been weird, Herm.” He pressed his forehead into the phone stand, but not too hard. “I think you’re the only thing I’m really going to miss.”

“Harry,” Hermione said and Harry started to frown, because that wasn’t her stern and startled voice. That was the voice that meant she was off down a charging war path of other thought and might not have heard him at all. “I’ve been reading.”

“Of course you’ve been reading,” he said. “I’ve been being forcibly hidden from a swarm of post office owls–”

“You’re in books,” she said in breathless delight, squeaking over the telephone line. “First thing we did, of course, after the professor explained, was get her to escort us to a bookstore– a whole bibliography, Harry, a whole world’s bibliography I haven’t even touched– how am I ever going to–” She took in a little calming breath, and murmured, “Different infinities, it’s okay, Hermione, okay.” A sharp exhale and then she tumbled right back into her rushing rivelet of a sentence. “And I picked up a good dozen, besides the school books, of course, and Harry, you’re in books, in Dark Wizardwork of This Century and A Modern Wizards’ History and October’s End: A Biography–”

“Hermione,” said Harry with slow enunciation. “Are you a wizard, too?”

“A witch, I think,” she said. “But I’m still reading up on the sociology of it all.”

-

Hagrid wouldn’t say Voldemort’s name, but Hermione would. She came over with a stack of books up to her chin, gave the Dursleys her normal pointed little stare that said she’d like to set them a little on fire, and curled up in his cupboard with him.

He supposed she probably could learn how to set them on fire, now, if she really wanted to.

She gave him passages and excerpts with his name in them, with his parents’ names, a home he hadn’t known. There were pictures of a ruined house with the smoke drifting in little curls of ink. There was his mother, smiling and waving in black and white. There was his mother, laid out on the floor, with a sober little caption below it. That picture was still, except for curtains fluttering in the window.

Hermione finally dragged her face far enough up from the pages to see Harry holding his own hand very tightly, and then she closed the book and reached for one about which magical creatures you should pet and which you shouldn’t.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I wanted to know.”

“I’m still sorry.”

-

The Grangers drove Harry, Hermione, Hedwig, and their trunks to King’s Cross Station. Mrs. Granger kissed the top of Hermione’s head while Mr. Granger mussed Harry’s mop of dark hair affectionately, and then they swapped children and repeated the treatment. Hermione pushed her hair back out of her face and marched them all to Platform 9 ¾, the entrance mechanism of which she had read all about.

“Before you go,” Mrs. Granger said, “let’s buy you some sandwiches? I don’t know what sort of food they’ll have past that–”

“There’s a trolley,” Hermione said, but her parents dragged them off to a snack kiosk anyway, Harry happily in tow.

As they were on Hermione’s tight schedule, there were plenty of compartments open, and they took one all to themselves– well, to themselves, Hedwig, and Hermione’s books, which took up two seats. (Harry would wheedle Hagrid into taking him to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping that year, where he would get Hermione a carry-all bag for her small personal library.)

Hermione took a long preparatory breath while Harry unwrapped his sandwich. “Harry? What if I go and sit down under the Hat and I just sit and sit there, and then it says I’m not a witch at all?” Hermione said, the words getting more squashed together and higher-pitched as she went. “I’m not magic, it just got confused, and they send me home? Harry, I don’t want to be a dentist. Other people’s mouths are disgusting–”

“You’re not going to get kicked out,” Harry said, chewing amiably on his sandwich. It was not good, but the Dursleys hadn’t bothered with any breakfast for him and he hadn’t wanted to bother the Grangers about it either. It was a bit dry on the way down, but it settled warmly in his belly.

“But what if I do?”

“I’ll stage a protest,” said Harry. “Refuse to do my homework til they reinstate you.”

“You’re not going to do your homework anyway.”

“See how dedicated I am to you.”

She made a dismissive little noise at him, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Hermione,” he said, and she lifted her bush of hair to look at him. “You’re the most magical person I know. It’s gonna be alright.”

She gave a long slow blink but whatever she might have said was interrupted by an uneven knock at the door. “Um,” said the pudgy boy standing there. “I’ve lost my toad.”

Hermione leapt to her feet. “Where did you see him last?”

Harry followed in the wake of her forward charge, but he brought the rest of his sandwich with him.

-

(Harry did not know this and would not know this until Mrs. Granger mentioned it casually over a Christmas dinner years and years later– but she and Mr. Granger reported the Dursleys for child abuse and neglect, over and over.

The reports got lost– minds scrubbed down, papers vanished– but they kept calling in reports. They considered kidnapping. They couldn’t imagine why the wizarding world might want to keep their chosen one somewhere so toxic, why they might want to keep this underfed child and his messy hair with those people.

“My mother left me a blood protection spell,” said Harry, whose scar had not ached in years. He poked at his mashed potatoes under the focused attention of Mrs. Granger’s stern little forehead wrinkle. “I had to live with family, blood family.”

“Then they should have made them treat you right,” Mrs. Granger said, as though it was that simple.

Mr. Granger gave Harry another helping of peas.)

-

On the steps of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy thrust out his hand to the Boy Who Lived, who surveyed the open palm with amusement. “Thanks,” said Harry. “But I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself.”

The redheaded, freckly, hand-me-down clothes boy Malfoy had been bothering snorted. Harry slipped his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the kid with the rat from the train,” Hermione said. “And the spell that didn’t work.”

“It was a cool rhyme anyway, though,” Harry said. “Hi, I’m Harry, this is Hermione.”

“Yeah, she said, then. I’m Ron– uh, Ron Weasley.”

“Yeah, he said,” Harry said, rolling his eyes Malfoy’s direction. “Come on, you wanna stand with us? Hermione will tell you about the ceiling.”

“It’s enchanted!” said Hermione.

-

When Hermione founded SPHEW, Harry was not surprised. He had spent too many schoolyard days escorting spiders to safe spaces, keeping vigil over fallen bird’s nests, and watching Hermione stand up on her desk chair in heated pitched verbal battles with teachers. She’d driven at least two teachers to tears and taught most of them at least a few new vocabulary words.

-

Over summers and holidays, Harry and Hermione took Ron to the movies, to the seashore, to Hermione’s top three favorite libraries. Hermione’s Aunt Meg taught them how to whittle under a cloud of cigarette smoke that clung to Harry’s hair until he washed it out.

In this life, there were things in the Muggle world that Harry missed, that he wanted to see again. He loved Hogwarts, and he nominally went home to the Dursleys each summer, but he knew he always had a bed at the Grangers’. He knew the weird system they used to organize the books on their shelves. He’d pass Mrs. Granger the marmalade in mornings before she had to ask. He got free dental check-ups all his life, which was good because the Dursleys rarely bothered taking him into the dentist.

The whole Granger family tore apart newspapers every morning, calling article excerpts across the table and pointing each other to their favorite journalists. Before Hermione even first stepped onto Hogwarts grounds she got a subscription to the Daily Prophet. During Harry’s fourth year, Mr. and Mrs. Granger got Arthur Weasley to buy them an owl and then began an unending campaign of furious letters to the editor that never got published.

-

In a crumbling boat shed, Severus Snape died, but first he pressed a shining bundle of memory into Harry’s hands.

The fight was still going– Neville newly broad and certain; Luna whipping out quiet, barbed little curses; Ginny charging like an army in and of herself. Hermione had her arms full of basilisk fangs. Ron was moving people like bishops and knights. But Harry had a long damp walk before him, so he had time to wade through that life not his own.

Severus had been a lot of things– one of them was in love. Harry dragged his feet through forest mulch, seeing a little redheaded girl in sunlight, hands not his own offering her transformed flowers. It had been just them for so long. For Severus, for so long, there had been no one but him and Lily.

Even in Hogwarts, Severus had drifted through the classrooms and common room and library. He had believed in magic, in the cool slide of good knives through dried roots, and in Lily– always, always in Lily– Lily in sunlight, Lily chewing on her thumbnail over Transfiguration homework, Lily flicking soapsuds at him in her kitchen at home over summer, Lily pig-tailed and seven, wide-eyed as he showed her the first magic she’d ever seen, a leaf to a flower, a bit of sunlight to a bit of fire.

He had loved, and it had been a real thing. He had fucked up, and it had been a real thing, that heartbreak, that regret.

When Harry turned the Stone in his hand and saw his mother step into pseudo-life in that forest clearing, he thought I wish I’d known you. He thought about how she was in sepia and gray, here, just like in the pictures in the pages of Hermione’s books.

But he was also thinking about Severus. He was remembering Lily in sunlight, remembering her walking away, remembering her in that same cold photographed sprawl but in color–in grief–in bruised knees and heaving gasps.

Severus had been the first to find Lily’s body and it had felt like someone had cut the sunlight out of him. Harry was living through that grief, but he was also living through the wail of the child crying unacknowledged. His tiny pudgy hands were wrapped around the guardrail of his crib.

Harry was thinking about a girl standing in a field like a statue, hands on hips. He was thinking about Hermione’s raised hand ignored in Potions, or the way Snape had sneered that he didn’t see a difference in her cursed teeth. Love had made him brave, perhaps. It had killed him, but it had not made Severus good.

Harry wondered if his mother would have escorted spiders to safe places, if she would have stood guard over fallen bird’s nests, if she had worried herself to pieces that first time on the Hogwarts Express about the Hat telling her she didn’t really belong.

“I wish I’d known you,” he told the specter of Lily Potter. He held his own hands tight.

For Harry, for so long, there had been no one but him and Hermione. Even in Hogwarts, there were things only she would understand– parking meters, the cobweb ceiling of his cupboard, the silence of marmalade at breakfast. Harry believed in magic and he believed Hermione Granger was the most magical thing he knew.

“They’ll be alright,” he said. “I’ll be alright. I was alright, mum. I wish I’d known you– but I wasn’t alone.” He squeezed his hands tighter– Hermione showing him her favorite spots in her favorite libraries; Ron shyly showing them the Burrow like it was anything less than a magnificent masterpiece of warm rooms and patchwork architecture; Hermione standing in the field like a statue, bushy-haired and seven years old, jaw set. “She wasn’t alone, either,” he said. “And she’ll be alright. Ron will be alright. I have to do this, don’t I?”

“We are so proud of you,” Lily said.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “Sorry,” said Harry, and wondered if Hermione was going to be able to read the little passages and excerpts with his name in them, with those un-moving pictures and the sober captions underneath.

He dropped the Stone.

-

When Harry Potter died for the first time, crumpled in forest mulch, he didn’t go to a squeaky clean King’s Cross Station. There were no crescent moon glasses to twinkle kindly at him.

He stood under an old olive tree and a little girl looked up at him with those eyes that needed shielding, needed blunting, needed a manufacturer’s warning. “A wind’s coming,” she said. “You can just go. It will be easy.”

He stood outside Diagon Alley, a Muggle payphone tucked between his shoulder and ear. “You’re in books,” she said, with a breathlessness he’d barely heard for years. There had been too much weight on his shoulders, on hers. “You’re done,” she said. “You’ve done enough. Go on, tap three bricks up and two to the left.”

He stood in Godric’s Hollow, in the snow, holding her hand, looking at the ruined house. “You should have had this,” she said. She was seven and small, not nineteen and weary like she had been in life. The sky was overcast but there was sunlight glinting in her hair. “You can still have this. You can have everything.”

“You’re not real,” Harry said.

“But you are,” she said. “There’s a wind coming. It will be easy.”

“You’ve never done anything easy in your life,” he said.

She took both his hands– hers were so small against his grown fingers, his broad palms, and how had they done everything with hands that small? Basilisks and werewolves; shouting down teachers from atop desk chairs.

Harry was sitting in his cupboard in the light of its single bulb and he was too big for this space, his shoulders curling forward, his head bowing. She was standing there with sunlight still in her hair and her arms piled high with books. “You don’t belong here,” she said. “It will hurt. You won’t fit, if you go back. Everything can be easy. Everything can be fine. It doesn’t have to hurt, ever again.”

“Hermione,” he said and leaned forward, put his hands on her hands where they were gripping her books. “It’ll be alright.” He smiled and she was staring at him with those eyes, those goddamn eyes. “We never fit, remember?”

“We tried,” she said and Harry squeezed her small hands gently.

“Send me back,” he said. “I want to go home.”

-

After the battle, as Hogwarts rang with frantic healing, crushing grief, and raging celebration, the three of them retreated to the library. Hermione hauled them down narrow aisles until she found her favorite tucked-away nook and they all collapsed on sagging sofas that seemed to not have been touched at all by the war.

“Well,” said Hermione. “What now?”

Ron let his head flop back against the seat, hair tumbling all over his pale forehead. “I’m going to nap,” he said. “For a month.”

“That’s not physiologically possible,” said Hermione. “Or if it is, then it’d be a coma.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Ron said, then: “no, wait, a hyperbole.” Hermione beamed at him. He blushed a little and elbowed her gently.

“After this, you’ll be in books, you know,” Harry told her.

“Not– I mean–” Hermione rubbed at her nose furiously. Ron laughed enough to wake up and sit up, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

While Ron came up with outlandish titles for Hermione’s eventual many biographies, Harry pulled his feet up onto the sofa. He watched the candles float quietly between the shelves.

anonymous asked:

heres a prompt if u were interested: neil being oblivious when flirted with constantly while andrew doing nothing, passing by, twirling his racquet is enough to get neil's attention (the rest of the foxes smirk)

“You’re all zoned out,” Matt says in her ear. Dan tips him immediately backwards with a hand to the chest.

“Shush,” she tells him, gritted through the straw she’s worrying between her teeth. She ran out of the watered-down pepsi they’re serving in battered plastic jugs a half hour ago.

“Dan.”

“Shush,” she insists, pressing two fingers to his mouth. She’s watching Neil trying to fill his water cup over at the far side of the banquet hall. He’s hovering in that way he does, like a shark who hasn’t figured out if something’s food yet.

There’s this sweet brown-eyed boy trying to talk to him, possibly the only male cheerleader in the room, certainly the least in the loop about Exy gossip. Dan watches him touch Neil’s arm and Neil jerks backwards into the table, toppling an entire icy water jug so it slops onto the floor and seeps through the tablecloth to the dark wood underneath.

Heads pop up, the boy falls all over himself to pour Neil a new glass, and Neil wanders off, bored.

Dan has noticed that people really want Neil to have a heart of gold. They like the news stories and they want them for themselves. They want the seams showing on his face and the tragedy in his back pocket, and they want to show everyone how accepting they are for finding his scars sexy. 

All they really want is his trim waist and his pretty eyes and his vice-cap badge and the way he shoves cameras away and has more history than any twenty-year-old has any business having.

Dan’s seen it all before. The way people like the character you’re playing so much that they want to take you home and open you up and see how deep it goes.

Neil’s worse at knowing when it’s happening. Dan’s a professional. She can see the way their eyes follow him because at least a dozen are always following her too, especially in places like this banquet. They look at Neil, or Dan, and a little part of them expects a show.

She watches Neil walk towards them with his eyes pouring over the room like liquid and finding every crevice, every exit. She looks at Matt.

“He’s doing that thing where he’s making a spectacle but he thinks he’s being very subtle.”

“That’s his whole shtick. I’m fond of it, now.” Matt grins.

“Do you think he actually noticed he was being hit on?”

Matt hums, watching Neil wind through the tables back to the fox—trojan extravaganza at theirs. “I doubt he knows anything about that boy other than the fact that he was in front of him for a bit.”

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anonymous asked:

Lbh physical attraction is important too. Do you really think that Clarke looks at Bellamy that way? because I don't see any evidence at all

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Gifs credit: (x)


Nah, I think she cares about the health of his lips, and she always checks him out to see if he’s wearing his jacket. She doesn’t want him to catch cold.

2

Stay  ~Jeff Atkins x Reader~

There’s something beautiful about the summer- they way it creates a new version of reality where music sounds better and happiness feels sweeter. Parties can give the same kind of feeling where nothing feels real, but all of it feels great. Well, until the next morning.

This makes an end of the summer party the pinnacle of a new reality. Inhibitions run low and everything else is on overdrive. In a week they will all be students again, studying to ensure the best future possible. But for tonight they are 60% alcohol and 40% bad decisions.

“Y/N!” Jess squeals with excitement, running towards the girl who just entered the room. She had been away visiting family abroad for the majority of the summer, and while the beaches had given a whole new meaning to the word ‘paradise’, this was where she was truly happiest.

“Jess!” she returns the enthusiasm, hugging her best friend tightly. The warm breezes that blew in through her window every morning this past summer brought her comfort, but this was home.

“I want in,” Justin grins, approaching the two and enveloping them between his arms.

“God I’ve missed you guys,” she sighs contentedly.

“You have so much third wheeling to catch up on,” Jess teases light heartedly.

Her face twists up unpleasantly at the thought. She loves both Jess and Justin dearly, but she does not love the thought of third wheeling. “With all due respect, I think I’ll pass.”

“Is that Y/N Y/L/N?!” a fourth voice enters the picture, causing the trio to part and turn towards the person walking towards them.

Jeff Atkins. Baseball star and literal ray of sunshine with the face of an angel and the body of a Greek God.

“Hey, Jeff,” she laughs, walking away from Jess and Justin to meet him halfway.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” Jeff grins warmly, brushing her arm with his hand. It’s a sweet gesture. He’s always been so sweet.

“It’s only been like two months,” she mirrors his grin. It’s impossible not to smile back at someone who radiates warmth the way he does.

“Feels like forever though. Especially since I was used to seeing you everyday at school. You look nice by the way,” he bumps her shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” she chuckles, “I look like I always do.”

“Exactly.”

She bites her lips together before looking down shyly and letting them fall apart into a smile. Jeff Atkins was so genuinely good in a way that was uniquely him.

“Jeff!” Troy yells from the outside patio, “Beer pong, now, c’mon man!”

“Coming!” Jeff yells back to Troy, but turns back to her before walking away. “Come watch us play? You can practice cheering me on for baseball season,” his mouth twists into a smirk.

“Who says I’m gonna come to your baseball games?” She challenges playfully, using quick wit to redeem herself from the shy smile.

“Don’t break my heart, Y/N,” he pouts childishly, walking backward to join the boys for a game of beer pong but not breaking eye contact with her. He finally turns away from her to exit the house and join those outside, but not before mouthing a “pleaasssseeee” and sticking out his bottom lip.

“I’ll be there in a second!” she yells so he can hear her over the music.

His pout transforms into a grin before he disappears through the threshold, indicating that he heard her.

“So how about a double date instead of third wheeling?” Justin and Jess approach her with Justin wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh shut up,” her face heats up at the thought, “He’s a nice guy. He’s friendly with everyone.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t flirt with everyone,” Jess interjects, crossing her arms over her chest vindictively.

“He didn’t ask me to cheer for him,” Justin fakes offense, “Honestly I’m a little hurt.”

“Fuck off, Justin,” she laughs loudly, putting her hands over her face.

“You better get out there,” Justin presses, gesturing to the sliding door, “After all, it’s mine and Jess’s two month anniversary so an intense make-out session could happen at anytime.”

“Bye!” she turns on her heels quickly, running away from her friends before they could make things awkward, or more awkward.

***
Five cups of jungle juice and two games of beer pong later she’s sitting on a folding lawn chair watching Jeff singlehandedly win a third game of beer pong since Troy had wandered off and was bothering Hannah and Clay.

After sinking another shot, Jeff notices where Troy had gone. A brief look of panic flashes across his face before he mutters a quick, “be right back!”, making a beeline for Troy. Jeff was just about as invested in Clay and Hannah as Clay was in Hannah. She wondered just how much better off the world would be if everyone had the same heart as Jeff.

“Did you save the day?” she asks upon Jeff’s return. She’s quite drunk and seeing two of everything, including two Jeffs. How wonderful would that be? A world with two Jeff Atkins. Incredible.

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckles modestly, “It’s up to Clay.”

“Meanwhile that beer run is up to you, buddy” Troy points out, his words slurring together.

“Later man,” Jeff replies, picking up a ping pong ball.

“Because you definitely need more alcohol,” she rolls her eyes at Troy, a sick feeling blossoming in her stomach.

“Don’t be a buzzkill, Y/N,” Troy retorts.

“Hey, relax,” Jeff snaps at Troy, “you’ll get your beer.”

The sick feeling in her stomach intensifies tenfold. She doesn’t want him to go, but she can’t beg him to stay. He’s not drunk, he would never jeopardize his life or anyone else’s so recklessly. But something about it still doesn’t feel right. He shouldn’t go.

She stands up, wobbling slightly. She grabs the back of her lawn chair to steady herself before heading back for the house. The twisting in her stomach is ominous in a way that refuses to be ignored.

“Where’re you going?” Jeff asks, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I need another drink,” she mumbles, brushing past him.

***
Three shots and a game of suck and blow later she’s feeling light and airy. All the anxiety from earlier has been replaced with a tingling feeling that reaches her feet. She’s quite hammered, and all the slip ups in suck and blow have her laughing and her sides aching. She’s starting to get lightheaded.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” she gasps in-between fits of laughter.

“Can you even walk?” Jess giggles.

“I’ll crawl if I have to,” she shrugs, stumbling her way out the door.

***
There’s nothing like the refreshing sensation of cool air hitting your skin after being cooped up in a house full of drunks, especially when you’re drunk yourself. The feeling of a breeze on her face is intoxicating in its own right, so she continues to walk around the outside of the house until she reaches the front.

There’s someone else at the front of the house, too. She can only see their back as they walk towards the row of cars, but she knows who it is. Suddenly she remembers why she felt the need to down three shots of vodka.

“Atkins,” she calls out, stumbling a bit as she walks forward.

He turns around at the sound of his name, smiling when he sees who it is. “Hey, you. Looks like you got that drink you wanted,” he laughs lightheartedly at her shaky balance.

“You making that beer run?” she asks, wringing her hands together nervously.

“Yeah. I’m not even a little buzzed, don’t worry,” he says soothingly.

“Stay,” she says softly.

“Huh?” he tilts his head to the side.

She continues to walk forward until she’s standing right in front of him, her weight falling to the side enough to make her falter. He reaches out to steady her, keeping a firm grasp on her side. She places her hands on his chest to steady herself before locking her eyes on his.

“Stay,” she repeats.

“Y/N, it’s okay I’m completely fine I promise. I only had two beers like two hours ago,” he assures, his voice gentle.

“I know, but it’s not like anybody needs anymore alcohol. I’m one of the more sober ones right now and that says a lot. Honestly I don’t even know how I made it out here on my own,” she sighs, “Just stay, please. ”

He looks at her softly, his eyes studying the worry etched onto her face. She feels so delicate in his grasp, like a porcelain doll that could shatter with too much pressure. He has always been enamored with her.

“Okay,” he moves his hands to hold her face, “I’ll stay.”

She lets out a heavy breath, letting her forehead rest against his chest and wrapping her arms around him. Maybe she was worrying over nothing, maybe she wasn’t, but she’s unexplainably relieved at those words.

“You gotta promise to watch me play baseball though,” he teases.

“I’ll be there every game with a sign that has your name on it,” she laughs, tilting her chin up to look at him.

“You gotta stop looking at me like that,” he shakes his head,“I might just fall in love with you.”

“Don’t get my hopes up.”

“Don’t leave for two months at a time,” he counters, grinning boyishly.

“I’d stay right here forever if I could,” she tightens her arms around him.

“I’d kiss you if you weren’t like 10 drinks deep right now,” he laughs, rubbing her back gingerly.

“Let’s go inside. I need to get sober. Right now. Immediately,” she pulls away, grabbing his hand to tow him behind her. Their laughter echoes down the empty street as they run around to the back of the house.

There’s something beautiful about the end of summer- the way things begin to feel more permanent. A simple request can change so much. All he had to do was stay. And he did.


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The Prince (M)

Originally posted by shinenamjoon

↳ Pt 1 (1/?)
Pairing: Jimin x reader 
Genre: Inspired by Ever After | Royal; Arranged Marriage AU.
Information: Recommended song here. I have uploaded this onto my Wattpad and A03 if it looks familiar ayoo. Raiona in Māori means lion <3 Happy reading.
→ Summary: You refuse to marry the youngest prince of the Raiona Kingdom. 

“They just keep coming!”

Sorting through letters, it finally begins to sink through the valves of your heart. You were nothing but currency to the royal family, expendable to royal intermarriage for the sake of forming an alliance; an act that would bond faraway kingdoms together; a kinship of sorts. 

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away from the sun

soulmate au 

pairing: taehyung | reader
genre: fluff and soft angst
word count: 20.409
warnings: none
author’s note: this story involved a whole lot of research involving many topics (read on if you want to find out hehe). I tried to represent them in the best way I could, but there are probably a few inaccuracies, so I apologize in advance for that. anyway, this is just another long plot with a bit of cheese on the side. please enjoy :) 


Once every five years, when the June solstice arrives and graces the sky with the midnight sun, a comet dashes by.

It is more than just a blinking light that moves at an unhinged speed. According to what you’ve heard, it looks like it stills in the middle of the vastness of space, and its tail flickers and shimmies in long tendrils of vibrant colors full of meaning — a subtle force that speaks to the humans who look up to the stars and set their eyes on the glowing meteorite, unique but just as intense for every single gaze. It speaks of soulmates and fate, of heavy truths and indelible bonds.

Each person sees a different pool of colors. You’ve heard more than a thousand stories, of people who saw the colors of the fireplace and others who were seized by the soothing hues of woodland during dawn. You’ve read about colors that go from the red blush of a beach beneath the sunset to the ivory traces of a wintry hill covered in thick snow. The colors do not give them the name of their soulmates, but once they find their other half, they will see those rich tones reflected in their lover’s eyes.

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sourcatsmiles  asked:

"You love me, right?" For Ladynoir

It was not the way he expected it to go down. Which, honestly, was rather impressive because in the past two years of their partnership Chat Noir must have plotted out at least 50 different possible scenarios in which he finally heard the coveted words. 

They had been joking around, legs swinging off the edge of of the parapet and laughing, enjoying the warm breeze. 

“Come on, you can’t tell me that your birthday is this week and not let me get you a present,” Chat whined, “what sort of partner would I be.” 

“The last thing I need for my birthday is a dead rat on my doorstep,” Ladybug teased as she once again failed to do a Jacob’s ladder with her Yo-yo. She scowled down at her weapon and Chat had to bite back a laugh. There was something incredibly endearing about the fact that for all the truly amazing things she had done with the magical item, she couldn’t seem to get the hang of a simple trick. 

“Ah, but you know that I won’t be giving you that, because I don’t know where your doorway is,” Chat grinned, “so your argument against my giving you a gift is invalid.” 

She rolled her eyes, but he could see her fighting back a smile. 

“Come on,” he whispered, dropping his chin onto her shoulder, “I’ll get you anything you want.” 

“Anything?” she asked, twisting her head to look at him and causing their noses to brush together. 

“Cross my heart and swear not to die, because I already promised you I wouldn’t after what happened last month.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips twisting into the disapproving pout that had become one of his favorite expressions. Not that he had a lack of those where she was concerned. Still, this particular look of fond annoyance was easily in the top 20. 

“Please?” he cajoled, stretching out the vowels like a hopeful child asking for a new toy. 

She looked away and Chat smiled. If she couldn’t meet his eyes it meant she was caving. 

“If Mayor Bourgeois is allowed to give you a statue, the least I should be allowed to do is get you a birthday present,” he whispered, trying not to fist pump as he saw her bite her lower lip. Victory was almost assured at this point. “Please?” he said again. 

“Anything?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Anything,” he assured her in the same quiet voice while internally he screamed in triumph. In fact he would probably be annoying Plagg later with his obligatory victory dance. 

Ladybug said nothing, continuing to stare out into the night, but Chat had learned patience was the key to these sorts of moods, so he simply waited, his head continuing to lull against her shoulder. 

“Chat?”

“Yes My Lady?”

“You love me right?” 

He felt his breath catch in his throat. He knew she didn’t mean it the way he wanted her to. It was a friendly statement, a joking lead-in to a request that usually meant she was insecure about something. It wasn’t the first time she had said it, but he still couldn’t help but be affected by the words. 

“Of course, to the end of my nine lives and beyond,” he said, his tone light despite the rapid pounding of his heart. 

“And you won’t make fun of me?” she said, with just enough of a tremor in her voice to belie her playful smile. 

“Never. Cat’s honor.” 

She took a deep breath and reached her hand up to pull at the collar of her suit. 

“What are you doing?” Chat squawked his face turning beet red as her fingers slide beneath the fabric and down towards her collar bone. 

She gave him a bemused smirk as she pulled out a carefully folded note, much to Chat’s simultaneous relief and dismay. 

“Never figured you for a prude,” she said tapping him on the nose with the paper. 

“What is so important that you felt the need to carry it around under your suit?” he grumbled, then instantly regretted his outburst when her shoulders hunched slightly. “Is it a picture of me? Admit it you pull it out to stare at it when I am not around.” He gave her his most salacious smirk and she gave him a playful shove, the momentary flash of doubt replaced with amusement. He mentally high fived himself on the nice save. Another thing to brag to Plagg about when they got home. 

“No. It’s a letter.” 

“I assume you are either going to elaborate, or you have decided to pursue a lifelong dream of becoming the world’s greatest calligrapher.” 

“What?”

“Never mind, you never did appreciate my sense of humor.” 

“It’s a letter for my crush.” 

His heart sank. 

“It’s stupid,” she said hurriedly, “it’s not even signed. I don’t know what is wrong with me that I can’t even bring myself to give him an anonymous love letter. I stupidly thought that maybe I would get lucky and could run in to him as Ladybug and maybe then I could…” she trailed off with a miserable laugh that broke his heart far worse than her infatuation with someone else. 

“My Lady-” 

“It’s horrible,” she cried, scooting back just enough so that she could look at him, “seriously, you have no idea how pathetic I have been.” 

“Come on it can’t be that bad.”

“For months I couldn’t even speak a complete sentence in front of him,” she wailed, “much less tell him how I feel!” 

“That’s totally normal.” 

“Oh, it get’s better. Because I wasn’t just content to make a fool of myself. No then I compensated by getting worse! My room is plastered with pictures of him. I have one framed on my nightstand!” 

“You are hardly the first person alive to go overboard about a crush,” Chat said thinking of his own hoard of fangirls that had only increased as he edged closer to adulthood.” 

“I wrote down his schedule on my calendar. In detail! Every time I learned something new, up it would go in big swirly cursive with little hearts and everything.” 

“OK, that’s admittedly a little weirder,” Chat winced, although he was somewhat amused at the image of her dotting little hearts all over the place, “still it could be-” 

“I stole his phone!”

“OK yeah, you’re crazy.”

“I told you. Instead of just confessing to him like a normal person I turned into,” she gestured helplessly at herself, “this.” 

“But at least you admit it,” he said kindly. “and if need be I can get you the name of an excellent therapist.” 

She gave him a weak smile, and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a gentle hug. 

“I thought if I could just give him this letter, even if he didn’t know it was from me, then I could… I donnow, not move on exactly but, get better, maybe?” 

She fiddled with the piece of paper in her hand and somehow, seeing her like this- relaxed and vulnerable, and just a little bit insane- made him love her even more. 

Maybe they would never amount to anything. Maybe she would end up with this mystery crush, or the next one. But in that moment Chat knew that he would never regret loving this girl. He would be happy to stay by her side in whatever way she needed him. That would be enough. 

“Do you want me to give it to him for you?” he asked, any regret he might have felt vanishing at the hopeful look that sprang to her eyes. 

“Would you?” 

“Of course Bugaboo. Although, if this turns into some sort of wacky rom-com where he thinks that I am the secret admirer and starts chasing after my dazzling good looks and unparalleled charm, you are not allowed to make it my fault.” 

“Ok,” she laughed, leaning her head back against his shoulder with a sigh that he could swear reverberated in his very soul. 

“So who am I delivering this to anyways?” he asked a little shakily carefully plucking the letter from her and slipping into into the pocket of his suit. “Who is this dashing rogue who has turned you into a literal lovesick schoolgirl?” 

“Adrien Agreste,” she confessed with a blush. “I’m in love with Adrien Agreste.” 

It was definitely not how he had expected things to go down. Never in a million years would he have dreamed up this scenario when he finally heard the coveted words- his name on her tongue, her voice saying that she loved him, HIM, of all people. 

It was not what he expected- but damn if it still wasn’t the greatest moment in his life. 



Look who’s back to her 4 word prompts! On to the next one! (Not taking any new ones just finishing up the ones I have.

Glitter Ball

I’ve been seeing some discussion in past few days about how unrealistic it is that Bitty doesn’t hang out with other queer kids at Samwell, which is a valid point, and it reminded me I had a fic languishing in my drafts folder that involved an expanded look at the LGBTQIA group on campus, so I figured maybe the time had come to post it. It’s more about Dex than Bitty, because I started it as a response to the “Dex is homophobic” discourse, so this is from a “Dex has never been straight, he just doesn’t think it’s any of your business” perspective.

(It’s the beginning of a longer fic called “I Abhor You/I Adore You” that’s kind of an exercise in filling in all the gaps between the Nurseydex tweets and fleshing out the non-hockey parts of Samwell, but who knows if I’ll ever finish it.)

~4.5k, pre-slash Nurseydex, mostly Dex POV, guest appearances by Bitty, Holster, and a few OCs from the LGBTQIA group. Location of the IT helpdesk across the hall from the resource center entirely stolen from my own tiny liberal arts school, “the little gay college in the middle of Iowa.”

Read it on AO3 (now with the second chapter as well).


First year, first semester

Dex got a job with the helpdesk almost as soon as he got to campus. This wasn’t exactly normal for an unknown, untested, untried, and undeclared first year student, but he had references from his high school job and there was a constant shortage of people who actually knew how to do anything with hardware. Which, of course, was the thing most of the professors actually needed help with. They weren’t actually receiving a lot of emergency Python coding calls; they needed someone who could “make the goddamn printer talk to the computer” without pissing anyone off by being too condescending.

He enjoyed it; compared to having to do the same thing in a retail environment, this was downright relaxing, and he at least had some confidence the people he was helping weren’t complete idiots. He could even leave behind a Post-It of step-by-step instructions of how to fix the problem themselves next time and have it be followed at least 50% of the time! Not to mention his work-study hours as a student athlete were actually capped and enforced so he wouldn’t work himself to death. So relaxing when compared to high school, when he’d had to juggle IT work, lobster fishing, hockey, and grades good enough to get some kind of scholarship.

Since he’d gotten to campus early to start pre-season practice with the hockey team, he’d been able to establish a work routine before adding in classes, which had been helpful. The CS classes at Samwell were certainly more demanding, but that was why he was here, wasn’t it? All in all, he was pretty satisfied with how things were shaping up. (Now if only his d-partner weren’t such an entitled brat…)

Once the other students got back to campus, it became clear the helpdesk office wasn’t the only thing housed in the weird little building at the edge of campus. He was just ending a shift when a girl stuck her head in the door. “Would it be possible to get some quick help from anybody? It’s just across the hall.”

“I can do it,” Dex said. “I was just about to leave anyway.”

“Thank you!” She led the way into what appeared to be an all-purpose meeting room. The door now had a handmade rainbow sign taped to it, proclaiming it the Stonewall Resource Center. “We’re having our first meeting of the year tonight, and of course the one person who remembers how to work the projector is on study abroad this semester.”

“No problem. You hooking it up to a laptop?”

“Yeah.”

Dex walked over to the AV podium at the front of the room and fished out the giant cluster of cables and dongles. “Hopefully one of these will work, but we have adapters in the office for just about anything. Bring it over.” A minute or so later, he had everything working.

“Thank you so much!”

“Sure. I mean, it’s my job anyway.”

“Do I need to file a ticket or something?”

“Eh, whatever.”

“Um, you’re welcome to stay for the meeting if you want…”

“What’s it for? I mean, I can guess, but your sign wasn’t even up when I came in at the beginning of my shift, so, you know.”

“Yeah, basically it’s just a beginning of the year informational meeting for students about LGBTQIA resources on campus and a way to get those of us who are returning students to get started organizing other events. So maybe not super interesting.”

“No, it sounds like good information to have. I’ll stick around.”

She smiled at him. “Great! I’m Sam.”

“Will. Or Dex. I answer to either.”

“Nice to meet you.”

***

“So do you think you’ll come back?” Sam asked after the meeting was over. Dex had stayed to help her turn off the projector and leave a sticky note with the steps written down. (He was thinking about getting a set custom-printed with “Helping You Help Yourself!” across the bottom, though he suspected his boss would find this too snarky.)

“Probably not. I mean, not to regular meetings or anything—you can totally ask me for help anytime! I’m just kind of… past the place where I need this kind of group? And I’ve got hockey practice and CS classes that are kind of the point of my being here, so they take priority, you know?”

“Sure thing.”

“But you know where to find me! Seriously, I’m always happy to help. It looks like a great group. But I know I can’t commit to anything.”

“Cool. I’ll see you around then, yeah? Oh, hey, if you have any time on Friday, you should come to the softball game. We’re gonna slay.”

Dex grinned and offered his fist for a bump of solidarity. “You’ll have to come to a hockey game once the season starts.”

“Definitely.”

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I Love You

Prompt: Can you do a batsis imagine where she knows she’s going to die and she’s says her goodbyes and everyone thinks she’s just being sentimental and don’t take her seriously and are ‘ok, love you’. Until she’s actually dead do they realise that she knew she was going to die please? Thanks

Requested by: ANON

AN: Last week’s session produced some really angsty prompts, so enjoy.


    “Alfred, you make the best cookies.”

    The older man smiles, “A high compliment coming from you, Miss Wayne.”

    You smile and rest your head on the counter. You take in the sounds of Alfred’s cooking and the smell of food. The combination makes you feel safe. It reminds you of good times.

    Cracking your eyes open, you find Alfred smiling at you. You smile back and say, “I love you Alfred. You know that, right?”

    “Always, Miss Wayne. Always.”

_____________________

    You focus on the screen, determined to beat Tim into the ground. Sure enough, your car comes in first. You jump up and do a ridiculous victory dance before typing your name into the winner’s spot. Tim stares at you with a raised eyebrow. You stare back for a moment, before grabbing a pillow and whacking him in the head.

    It turns into an all out pillow fight. By the time you’re done, you’re both lying on the floor surrounded by feathers. You grin as Tim sneezes. Smiling you say, “I love you Tim, you know that, right?”

    He stares at you for a minute, “I figured that out the first time you let me win at Mario Kart.” You just smile.

____________________

    You cling to Jason for dear life. You try to bury your head under the blanket, but the sound still gets through. Jason wraps an arm around your shoulders, “I don’t know why you put yourself through these movies.”

    You peek out from under the blanket, and find the television screen gore free, “‘Cause you love these horrible things.”

    He smiles, “Are you sure Bruce is your dad? You hate violence, gore, and anything remotely scary.”

    You smile, “He’s my dad, just like you’re my brother.”

    He smiles at you, “And you’re my little sister.” He pulls you close as another scary scene comes up.

    You bury your face in his shoulder and say, “I love you Jason.”

    “I love you too squirt.”

__________________

    “This gelato is amazing.”

    Dick smiles at you, “Told you Blüdhaven isn’t that bad.”

    You roll your eyes, “It’s too far away.”

    “It’s thirty minutes away.”

    “Still too far.”

    “Anything outside the manor is too far for you.”

    “Which is why you should move home.”

    You both grin at each other, knowing that it won’t happen. Dick’s been gone for two years now, and as much as you miss him, you cherish these brother-sister days. He wraps you in a hug, careful of your gelato, “You’re welcome to come and visit anytime.”

    “Even if Barbara is over?” He hesitates, “What about Kori?”

    “Ummm…”

    “Oh, how about Zee?”

    He squeezes you tight before letting go, “You are welcome anytime.”

    You sigh, “I love you Dick, you know that right?”

    “I know, baby sister. Forever and always.”

____________________

    You lean back in your seat and watch as your younger brother shifts gears, “I think you’re a fine driver.”

    “I’m better than you.”

    “A dog is better than me.” Damian smiles.

    “So what’s with sneaking out the Batmobile?”

    You shrug, “I like the looks on the bad guys’ faces as we drive by.”

    “Father will be mad if he finds out.”

    “He’s off world. He won’t find out.”

    “As long as we stay away from the martians.” Damian adds.

    You nod, “As long as we stay away from the martians.”

    There’s a moment of silence before you say, “I love you, Dami.”

    “I love you too.”

    You nod, “Good, then open this baby up, and let’s see what she can do!”

___________________

    You wait for him to come in. You’re lying on the couch, draped in a blanket. He stares at you from the doorway, he looks at you as though he doesn’t know you. When you try to sit up, he motions you down. He walks over to you, and sits down next to you.

    You sit up enough that you can snuggle into his side. He strokes your hair for a moment, before he says, “You should have contacted me.”

    “You were off world.”

    “There are ways and you’re…”

    “Dying? Yep. Have been for over three months apparently.”

    “And there’s nothing?”

    You look up at your dad, “It’s too far gone. Nothing they can do. I checked. Double and triple checked.”

    “I would have come home. I would have spent time with you.”

    You smile up at him, “A lot of people would have died if you’d done that. Plus it gave me a chance to say goodbye to my brothers.”

    “Do they know?”

    You shake your head, “Nope. I don’t want them to.”

    He nods, and pulls you closer, “We can’t escape death.” He still doesn’t say anything.

“Be grateful, daddy.”

    “How the hell can I be grateful when you’re…?”

    You smile, “We get to say goodbye. I’m sorry that I have to leave you behind. I know you hate that, but… we get closure.”

    “Closure?”

    You nod, “You get to know that I’m not scared. That I’m leaving a lot of pain behind. You get to know that I love you. You get to hear it.”

    You feel tears drip onto your face, and you reach up to wipe a few off your father’s face, “I love you, daddy.”

    He’s crying now, “I love you too baby girl.”

    And with a smile you fall asleep.

Suga Daddy: Part Five

Suga Daddy: Part Five

Word count: 6.8k

Genre: smut, angst

Alright, I hope you enjoy this. Sorry to all the people whose souls i’ve shattered. (not really) Let me know how you enjoy it if you want :)  

parts: one | twothreefour

“What the hell is going on?”

You and Taehyung pulled apart quickly, both looking at the figure, staring at you with a hard gaze and a clenched jaw. You gasped, “Yoongi.”

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something borrowed // stiles stilinski

Summary: Stiles lets Y/N borrow something of his & unexpectedly gains something in return

Requested: no, collab with @rememberstilinski

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N

Warning: no

Masterlist

Clutching the plastic lunch tray she navigated her way through the crowded cafeteria and back to the lunch table. The stress from the first four periods of her day slowly melted away as she spotted her group of friends across the cafeteria, sitting at the same table they had since the start of their freshman year.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as Lydia waved over to her. Picking up her pace, Y/N maneuvered her way through the crowds of people who were too engaged with their conversations with one another to pay any sort of attention to the small girl.

Then, a familiar boy caught her attention.

The sheriff’s son, Stiles Stilinski.

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Wait For Me To Come Home - Sebastian x Reader - One Shot

Originally posted by mebeingbored1

A/N - Got myself into the little sebby family mood again. Featuring Isabella as always aha.

Sebastian x Reader - You are completely secure in your relationship with Sebastian, until you start reading some articles that make you doubt yourself. Sebastian gets rid of your insecurities by helping you relive some of your memories together.

Warnings: Fluff and angst  - It’s a long one.

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Showing What’s Yours (Reggie x Reader)

Request: your dating Reggie for a couple years & when Veronica comes she likes him and tries to like break them up. But then she sees how much we love each other & feels really bad.

 Veronica stepped her way inside of Riverdale High with Betty on one side and Kevin on the other. For her first day here she didn’t feel as nervous as she thought she would but it all changed when they walked in. Everyone stopped and stared, most were whispering about what Veronica assumed to be her. Making their way down the hallway Kevin and Betty were telling her all of the latest gossip of Jason Blossom murder. It happened to be the talk of the town and they didn’t want her to be completely clueless on her first day.

“There is Archie Andrews” Kevin said as he pointed over to a redhead boy by the lockers. “Betty best friend and soulmate”

“You two are dating?” Veronica asked cursorily, wanting to know more on this wonderful topic.

“Shh Kevin and no we are not we’re just friends.”

“That Betty is here in love with but is too sacred to say anything about it” Kevin spoke at he looked at the handsome boy as Betty eyed him down not impressed he was doing this here in the school hallway.

“Who’s that?” Veronica asked as she lifted her eyebrows liking what she was seeing. A tall built boy was making his way to Archie’s side at his locker. She had to admit he was hot.

“That’s Reggie Mantle, he was one of Jason’s best friends. He also on the football team as well” Betty told Veronica. She nodded her head he was for sure her type.


As the four of them sat at the lunch table talking and enjoying their food, Veronica let her eyes wander the school yards. Looking at all of the different kind of social groups she wondering where she use to fit into. One table caught her eye, it was the football team. She scanned her eyes until she found Reggie, the boy she wanted to be hers. She was shocked as an random girl came up to him placing a water bottle in front of him, then went to leave but not before Reggie kissed her cheek.

“Who’s that?” She asked interrupting the conversion. All of them turned to see who Veronica was talking about, Kevin was the first one to speak

“That’s Y/N L/N, she’s a year older than us”

“She’s also Reggie girlfriend” Archie added causing Veronica eyes to widen.

“You guy didn’t tell me he had a girlfriend”

“You didn’t asked, what’s it to you anyway” Betty claimed before she realized what was on her mind. “It’s not going to happen V. They have been dating for years”

“Their the longest running couple in this school” Kevin added in.

“We will see about that” Veronica announced as she got up from her spot to make her way to her next class, passing by Reggie’s table she gave him a wink. He smiled but was slightly confused on what she was doing.


Knowing she was here before you were Veronica knew that was the perfect time to get started on her break up plan. Watching the boys leave the room one by one pretending she was there for Archie but she already knew he left, she waited. Until she saw the boy she was looking for Reggie. She moved to block his way of coming out of the room.

“Hey Reggie” V said as sweetly as she could.

“Veronica right? You are the new girl?” Reggie questioned remembering her from earlier that day when she winked at him. It hurt V a bit when he didn’t really know who she was but she didn’t care.

“Yes the one and only” She started while laying her hand on his chest. Reggie look down at her confused on what she was doing.

“W-” But she cutted him off, standing on her toes, she leaned to meet Reggie’s ear and whispered

“Meet me at Pop’s at eight, we could get some milkshakes” Before Reggie even had a chance to denied Veronica was already gone. You passed her on your way in but didn’t think anything of it until you got to Reggie.

“Hey sorry I’m late, Cheryl was talking to me. What’s wrong with you? You looked like you seen a ghost” You asked as you put your head on Reggie’s forehead making sure he didn’t have a fever.

“It’s nothing, just something that I got to deal with later” He smiled happy to see you finally here.

“Okay whatever Reg as long as everything is fine” Lacing your hands with his, you guys made your way to his car while chatting about each other day.


Reggie looked around Pop’s as he step in looking for Veronica. He came with one thing in mind and that was to turn her down. He didn’t like her like that because he loved you. Spotting her in one of the back booth he made his way over, siding in the seat across from her. Veronica smiled thinking she was getting to him and knowing that if she gets her way there wouldn’t be no more Reggie and you.

“Well look who decided to come” Veronica said cheerfully while reaching her hand across the table onto Reggie’s. He looked down with disgust and pull his hand back down by his side. V looked at him with a frown.

“I think you got the wrong idea Veronica” Reggie started to say but the door opened to Pop’s making V stared at the person who walked in. Reggie turned to see who was so important but wished he haven’t when he saw you. You caught sight of them right away and went over.

“Well well what do we have here?” You mocked full well knowing what it was.

“Babe it’s not what you think” Reggie said while getting up but you stopped him and pushed him back into the seat. Leaning over the table to come face to face with Veronica you started to speak

“Listen here Ms. Lodge, I know you are new and don’t know how this little town works yet but you should know one thing. You don’t go after someone else’s boyfriend. You knew he was taken  because Betty and them told you but you still had to try right?. I don’t know what’s going on in your mess up family and frankly I don’t care but if you value your life or that stupid pearl necklace you will stay away. Got it?” Veronica look at you wide eyes and nodded. She didn’t think that any of this was going to happen more so you telling her off. You seemed to sweet and innocent to do it but boy was she wrong. Standing back up straight you grabbed ahold of Reggie’s hand pulling him out behind you. Standing outside of Pop’s, Reggie only had one thing to say.

“Damn that was hot babe” Smirking Reggie felt proud that your were all his.

“What can I stay I love what’s mine and no bitch is going to take it away” You said with a laugh, Reggie then kiss you. You guys were each others and no one was going to stand in yours guys way of happiness.

Muse

Originally posted by sugutie

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst (it will contain smut in the next parts)

a/n: The story will have another part. So dont worry, im not cutting you off

Description:Jungkook is a  photography major in collaage. Every girl likes him yet he only has eyes for his camera, until he -even tho he hasnt realized it yet-  finds his muse.

Part1 Part 2  Part3

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never let me go pt. 1

Pairing: Reader x Jungkook

Genre: angst, implied smut (with eventual smut)

Word Count: 10,064

A/N: This is a reworked version of the piece I had originally posted. Based on the novel of the same name.

Originally posted by jengkook

You stood at the river’s edge and stared out across the black water. Your eyes caught in a daze wondering what your life was like if you had just been born like everyone else. What your life would be like if you had come from a womb instead of test tube. You had always dreamed of crossing the other side, to see what life was like outside of the city you were placed in. But as you thumbed the folded piece of paper in your pocket you knew that you would never get the chance.

You slipped the paper from the confines of your pocket and re-read it for the 55th time. Your first donation was scheduled a week from tomorrow. You had to report to the hospital in 5 days for preparations and blood work to make sure that your perfectly created body was still perfect.

Jungkook’s smile flashed before your eyes and a lump caught in your throat making it hard to hold back the sobs that were trying to escape your lips. He was waiting for you back at the hospital. It was after all, the eve of his second donation. Even though you had been through this process almost a hundred times before, it still made your whole body shake with nerves.

And now it was your turn.

You looked at the paper in your hand and over to the black water lapping at your feet. You adjusted your feet against the chain link fence, the only barrier between you and the unknown, and leaned forward. You watched as the paper floated on the surface of the water but didn’t sink. You gripped one hand on the railing and the other reached forward.

The silver bracelet on your wrist suddenly came alive as your hand hit the floating paper. The cold water stung your fingertips as the alarm from your wrist echoed through the night. You pulled back and planted your feet back on the earth beneath you. But the beeping didn’t stop.

It wasn’t long before the sound of tires pulled up behind you. You didn’t turn around as their footsteps approached, you being the target. One of them cleared their throat and you finally turned around to the face the men that had come to collect you. “It’s time to go, Y/N. Jungkook is going to be worried about you” the man told you.

You cocked your head to the side and scoffed, “So the rumors are true, watchers do exist”

Keep reading

SEXUAL FRUSTRATION pt. 2 - JBB

{synopsis} platonic relationship between reader and bucky until bucky decides to help reader relieve some stress

{warnings} male masturbation, a shit load of dirty talk (i might’ve gone overboard), vaginal fingering, tease!bucky, denied orgasm, dom!bucky, very lowkey hate fucking (more on the reader’s side than anything), metal arm kink

{pairing} dom!bucky x fem!reader

{word count} 2045

tags - @arabellaaurorabarnes , @firebendergirl33 , @justonenobody , @harrisbn @madbabie

   It had been two weeks since their little incident, and when Bucky said he wanted to get Y/N riled up, he wasn’t lying. It had been absolute torture for our poor girl; with the looks Bucky gave her when he walked into a room, the sinfully tight shirts he wore during training, the small moments when no one was looking that he would grind up against her, speak lowly in her ear and then leave like nothing had happened. Just this morning he pulled something that nearly made Y/N explode…


   Y/N grumbled as she made her way down the hallway to the elevator; the only thing on her mind being food. She had spent the entire morning cooped up in her room, particularly to avoid making any and all contact with a certain James Barnes (who happened to reside three doors down from her). She thought she had been doing a good job so far, and had actually gone as far as to ask FRIDAY about Bucky’s location throughout her time hiding out, just in case he decided to surprise her. So, as she passed his room, Y/N was quite surprised (and very alarmed) to hear low moans coming from inside. She thought she had made sure that Bucky’s room was clear before she set off on her escapade to retrieve food… guess she was getting lazy.

   Sure, she had recently been in a state of constant hatred towards the man, but she still cared for him. It’s not like they didn’t have history. Therefore, being the gallant little Avenger she is, Y/N quickly darted to Bucky’s door and swung it open. The sight she was greeted with nearly knocked the breath out of her chest.

   Bucky Barnes was not in trouble; oh no, he was far from it. The man in question was sprawled out on his bed, the duvet kicked lazily around his feet, his body bare and his legs spread wide. Bucky’s chest was heaving as he took deep breaths between low moans and throaty groans, his metallic hand gripping the headboard and his human hand pumping his cock at a steady rhythm. Y/N was at a loss for words as her eyes traveled his figure, his skin covered in a light layer of sweat, his abs contracting as waves of pleasure washed over his body. He was like something out of myth; he was a fucking god. Bucky’s head was thrown back as a breathy “oh god” fell from his sinfully plump lips, his eyes scrunched shut and god his neck… how Y/N was alive at that very moment remains a mystery. 

   But before anything else could happen, Y/N closed the door as dramatically as she had opened it, and fell against it as she stared, wide eyed, at the opposite wall of the now eerily quiet hallway, her mind attempting to grasp what had just happened. A sharp breath left her in the form of what sounded like a panic-ridden sigh, and Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, trying to wipe her brain of what she had just seen. But did she want to?

   Bucky, on the other hand, had stopped his movements and was smirking triumphantly to himself. He heard her exasperation through the door, hell, he could feel it radiating off of her. So, just to make matters worse for our poor girl, he opened his mouth and moaned in the most pornographic way he could muster, “Oh, Y/N!”

   He waited for a response, and not less than a second after the words left his mouth, he heard a loud gasp and clumsy footsteps leading away from his room. Bucky threw his head back in silent laughter and grinned deviously to himself. Everything was going to plan…


   That moment was still haunting Y/N. It was most definitely still haunting her as our girl has her hand stuck down her panties, her pointer and middle finger pumping furiously into her wet core. She had been going at it, laying in her bed, for the past 10 minutes and so far she was receiving jack shit. She was just about to give up when a knock came at her door, reviving a flame that had settled in Y/N for the time being. Her voice was sharp and uninviting as she yelled out: “Who the fuck is it?”

   A low chuckle came as an answer, and Y/N was at a loss for words, her cheeks heating up as her mind immediately wandered to the morning incident. “Doll?” the smug bastard called out in an innocent, sing-song voice, “It’s me. Can I come in?”

   Y/N thought to herself for a minute, did she really want him to come in? Maybe he had come there to settle the tension that had been building between them for the previous two weeks… lord knows it was about time… But it was too late for second thoughts because before Y/N could overthink what was about to happen any further, her legs had already carried her to the door and her hand was already on the handle, turning the knob and then opening the door to reveal a very smug looking Bucky. Damn you, subconscious movements. Y/N rolled her eyes at the sight of his infuriatingly happy face, a sharp sigh falling from her mouth. Bucky’s face faltered for a moment and his eyebrows furrowed in a playfully offended way, “Good to see you too, dollface. May I come in?”

   Y/N rolled her eyes again, “Whatever, just don’t fuck anything up.”

   Bucky chuckled but followed her into her room, taking note of the messy bed covers and the lack of pants on the girl in front of him. She had so been touching herself. Bucky took a seat at her desk as Y/N curled up on her bed, an expectant look on her face. “Well? What do you want?” she asked him, an impatient edge in her voice.

   He sat in her chair silently for a few moments, eyeing her over, then he suddenly rose from his seat, and had her pinned to the mattress before she could even blink. His body was hovering over hers, Y/N’s hands trapped above her head, and Bucky’s steel blue eyes boring into her own. His voice was lower than she had every heard it when he spoke next, “I want you to drop the damn attitude. Understand, sweetheart?”

   Y/N understood clearly, and, though a surge of defiance struck her, she calmed it and slowly nodded her head. Bucky smiled and his eyes darted to her lips as he spoke, “Good girl.” Then, his mouth molded with hers and the game began.

   Their kiss was passionate, though their passion rooted from different seeds. Y/N’s was purely animal, raw need surging through her as she bit Bucky’s lip and grinded against his crotch. Bucky’s passion came from the desire to be in control. His was controlled and relaxed, his kisses calculated and thought through, just like everything else in his life. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was playing off of Y/N’s lust and need. He was playing her like a fiddle, and they both knew it. Eventually, the kiss broke off and Bucky began to trail his lips down, planting kisses on her face and peppering her jaw, his teeth nipping at the taut skin of her neck and collarbone. His mouth didn’t go any farther than that, though, and this frustrated the everloving fuck out of our dear Y/N. So, she voiced her complaint: “Get a move on, you prick. What the hell are doing, huh?”

   Bucky stopped his actions and tsked, his eyes adopting a playful glint as he grinned. “I’m playing with my food, baby. Get used to it, games are my specialty.”

   She gasped, in an almost accusatory way, a fire lighting in her eyes. Y/N struggled momentarily against Bucky’s grasp on her hands, but gave up when she realized he truly was in control of her, and he wasn’t going to give up on his power as easily as she had hoped. Bucky got back to work, sucking marks on her skin and soothing them with his tongue, drawing hisses and gasps and moans from the helpless girl underneath him. He reveled in the power he had, how his mouth alone could create such angelic sounds and make a woman as strong-willed as Y/N squirm and whimper. He was in absolute heaven.

   Not soon after Y/N began to grind her crotch against his, Bucky’s metal arm released it’s grasp on her right hand and began to trail down her front, goose bumps being left in it’s trail. Y/N gasped at the contrast in temperatures, her hot skin mixing deliciously with the coldness of the metal, the prosthetic limb biting her skin playfully. Bucky smirked at the reaction and continued his hands decent until he had reached her pelvic bone. There, he let his pointer finger trace a continuous circle on the spot where her hip bone jutted out, slowly testing the stormy waters that were Y/N’s patience and tolerance. She moaned though, to Bucky’s pleasant surprise, and almost whined out when she pleaded, “Bucky, please…”

   The assassin couldn’t say no to that face. So, his metal limb snuck it’s way underneath the material of Y/N panties and quickly got to work on her pussy. First, he ran his pointer finger up her slit in a smooth path, collecting her wetness along the way. When his trail ended, he used the collected juice to lubricate her throbbing clit, and slowly began to trace circles on the sensitive nub with toe curling pressure. Y/N let out a low moan at the sensation, her now free hand grasping Bucky’s prosthetic arm like if she let go it would disappear. Bucky groaned at the sight, and decided he wanted to add a new factor to the game they were playing. He was going to make her melt with his words.

   “Doll,” he started, his voice gravelly, “do you know what I was thinking about this morning when you caught me touching myself?”

   Y/N’s breath caught in her throat and her voice came out as a whisper, “Y-you heard me?”

   Bucky sunk his middle finger into her core and she gasped, her eyes rolling back in their sockets. He chuckled dryly, “Super soldier, babe. Now, tell me dollface, do you know what I was thinking about?”

   Y/N bit her lip and shook her head. Bucky smirked, this was going to be fun. “I was thinking about how good it would feel to have your mouth wrapped around my cock, your eyes staring up at me innocently, your pretty pink lips going up and down, up and down. God, baby… you have no idea how pretty your moans would sound, muffled around my dick. I would grab your hair in my hands and fuck your mouth so good, darling” -Y/N moaned at that- “going in and out, deeper and deeper and deeper until I cum inside your throat. You would like that, wouldn’t you, baby? I bet you would, you naughty girl.” Bucky’s fingers pumped continuously faster as his words became lower, his mouth inching closer to her ear. The deep gravel of Bucky’s voice raised shivers on Y/N’s skin, and she was in absolute heaven.

   A familiar burning sensation began to spread from Y/N’s lower back to her thighs and stomach, reaching as far as her toes. She began to subconsciously grind on Bucky’s fingers, desperate for her release, and Bucky was almost convinced to give it to her. But he needed her to wait just a little while longer…

   “You know, love, I would adore the sensation of you cumming all over my fingers, but I think I need you to simmer just a little while longer…” and with those devastation words, Bucky slipped his fingers out of Y/N’s pulsating core, and was out of the room before Y/N could even sit up. With a devious smirk, Bucky sauntered down the hallway, sucking on his fingers and laughing silently. His shit-eating grin just grew as he heard an explicit line of swears leave Y/N’s mouth. This was too easy…