duly noting

sporty lesbians: 👌😙😍🔥🔥👍❤💛💚💙💜💘💘👭😊⚢


geeky lesbians: 👌😙😍🔥🔥👍❤💛💚💙💜💘💘👭😊⚢


preppy lesbians: 👌😙😍🔥🔥👍❤💛💚💙💜💘💘👭😊⚢


goth lesbians: 👌😙😍🔥🔥👍❤💛💚💙💜💘💘👭😊⚢


theater lesbians: 👌😙😍🔥🔥👍❤💛💚💙💜💘💘👭😊⚢


gamer lesbians: 👌😙😍🔥🔥👍❤💛💚💙💜💘💘👭😊⚢


hipster lesbians: 👌😙😍🔥🔥👍❤💛💚💙💜💘💘👭😊⚢


lesbians: 👌😙😍🔥🔥👍❤💛💚💙💜💘💘👭😊⚢💖💕😍😍🌸🌹🌹

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus - Damian Wayne x Batmom

Prompt: You know the song I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus? Pretty much what the title says with Damian being shocked to see Batmom kissing “Santa Bruce Wayne Claus”.

“Damian, sweetie, what are you doing?” You asked looking suspiciously as you observed Damian setting up a dangerous looking bear trap in the fireplace. As a parent you figured you should at least a little bit worried, as Batmom though little surprised you anymore.

“I’m protecting us from unwanted intruders.” He answered simply, not bothering to stop setting the trap or at the very least act like he should be hiding what he was trying to do.

“Protect us from who?” You asked.

“The supposed magic fat man who breaks into homes through the chimney. He won’t be getting into this home.” Damian said with fierce determination. You racked your mind on how to possibly rein in this situation.

“You mean Santa Claus?” You asked.

“Yes. He will pay dearly for breaking and entering into our home.” He said threateningly.

“Sweetie, Santa leaves presents. He doesn’t have any ill intentions when he comes into houses.”

“It’s about the principle mother! He has no right!” Damian said righteously. And to think you thought Damian didn’t believe in Santa Claus …

When night fell and all the boys went to bed you went down to the kitchen to grab a glass of water when you ran into Santa Claus himself. You smiled fondly at Bruce while he set presents under the tree in a bright red suit.

“I’d watch where you step if I were you. Damian took … precautions.” You cautioned him, leaning against the doorframe as you slowly sipped your water.

“Believe me, I know. I had to disable a trip wire connected to the trigger of a crossbow.” Bruce chuckled setting the bag of presents down and walking over to wrap his arms around your waist.

“You should have at least triggered a few of them. An arrow imbedding in the wall or some spilled blood will go a long way to keep Damian’s belief alive.” You joked poking him in the side.

“Duly noted.” He grumbled. You smiled warmly at him before being overcome by a deep yawn.

“Come to bed soon? Knowing Dick, it’ll be an early morning.”

“Go ahead and go to bed. I’ll only be a few more minutes.” Bruce encouraged gently.

“Alright.” You agreed reaching up to press a kiss onto Bruce’s cheek. “Merry Christmas, Santa.” You said playfully. Bruce smirked and tilted his head slightly so that your lips met. You giggled lightly at the feeling of his fake beard scratching your face.

“Intruder!” Damian’s voice shouted out furiously from the stair case. “Get your hands off my mother!” He snarled, charging at ‘Santa’ with his sword raised. Bruce sent you a quick wink before throwing down a smoke bomb and disappearing to goodness knows where.

“Coward!” Damian shouted into the emptiness of the room, hoping that the intruder would show his face and battle him. When it was clear that wouldn’t happen Damian rushed over to your side.

“Did he hurt you? I swear I will hunt him down if he hurt you!” Damian promised. You gently laughed and hugged him to you, your fierce over-protective son.

“I’m fine, sweetie. Let’s go back to bed.” You said, already leading him towards his room. “No buts.” You said firmly when he looked like he wanted to argue. He let you lead him back to his room but stopped you in front of you and Bruce’s door.

“I’m staying with you tonight, Mother. I won’t let him hurt you.” He insisted. You smiled fondly at him and gently ran your fingers through his hair. From the look in his eyes he wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

“My hero.” You smiled genuinely and opened the door to your room. Luckily Bruce lay “sleeping” in the bed, appearing to never have left. Oh you’re good …

Smiling to yourself you crawled into bed with Damian not far behind you, falling asleep between you and Bruce. It would seem that Damian scared the intruder Santa off because he quickly fell asleep and didn’t wake up until early the next morning when Dick bounded in during his rounds to wake everyone up.  

Never Let It Get Personal - Mitch Rapp

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 16,419

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Multiple Orgasms, Fingering, Bondage, Oral (both receiving in the form of a 69), Sweet Sex because I’m a sucker for their romance???, Sassy reader, violence and blood because they are assassins.

Notes: Why do I do this to myself? 16.4k later and it’s done. But I really liked this idea. It’s a lot of plot with a smidge of sexy smut because I love Mitch Rapp. But he’s also hella loving. And angry. And I owe @minhosmeanhoe a lot for talking through this idea with me. She is a saint and my Rapp twin. I love her. I hope you guys love this and think it’s worth it.

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Jet Lag and Chinese: Part 2

Prompt: As Clark Kent’s best friend and kind of sister you’re used to the strange. Still seeing him get cozy with Wonder Woman is more strange than you’re used to. So when the chance to cozy up to a billionaire playboy comes around, who are you to say no? 

Part 1


  When that knock wakes you up at three in the morning, you consider killing whoever is on the other side. You pull yourself out of bed, your comforter wrapped around your shoulders, and make your way to the door.

   You open is to find Clark, Diana, and an unconscious Batman between them. An unconscious Batman who is bleeding all over your floor. You look them in the eye, and ask, “You realize I’m a photographer and not a doctor, right?”

   Clark rolls his eyes, and pushes his way inside. “Duly noted. The bleeding has stopped for the most part, but he’s under some sort of alien drug. Hal got a cure, but it’ll be a while before he comes out of it.”

   You close the door behind them, “So you need a place to stash him?”

Clark shrugs, “He’s part of the team, and he’s damn good at what he does.”

You blink as Clark puts him on the couch, “You were just complaining about him yesterday.”

“You complain about your sister all the time.”

“My sister is an entirely different matter.”

   “Clark.” Diana’s voice is soft, a reminder.

   He let’s out a deep breath, “Right. We have to go. We’ll collect him in a few hours. Stay inside and don’t get yourself killed.”

   You wave him off, and turn on the T.V. knowing that you won’t be getting back to sleep. You collapse in your armchair and watch the chaos unfold. You’re more than a little bitter that Clark hadn’t given you a heads up that something was going down. Your passion was photography, and things like this called your name. To tell the story of what was happening. The true story.

   After about six hours, you guest begins to stir. You glance at him, as he sits up. You meet his gaze and he simply says, “You’re Clark’s friend.”

   You nod, “Change of clothes is in the bathroom, feel free to shower too.” He stares at you, and you stare back, “I already know the secret identities of ninety percent of the League. One more won’t kill me.”

His voice is gruff, “It might.”

You shrug, “Then don’t. Sit there in the blood and filth on my couch. I’m going to make Clark buy me a new one anyway.”

His lips quirk slightly, “Are you now?”

You smile, “My guests are mainly reporters, they tend to pick up on things like blood stains.”

You watch him leave for the bathroom, and listen as the shower turns on. Your attention remains on the TV, while you pull out the breakfast fixings; cereal, bread, milk, butter, bowls. After about twenty minutes the doors opens and you stare at the man standing in your bathroom doorway.

He raises one eyebrow and asks, “Are you surprised?”

You screw your mouth into a pondering look, “Not completely. Makes sense, who else would have the money for Batman’s toys. Bruce Wayne fits.”

He nods before moving into the kitchen, and pouring himself a bowl of cereal, his eyes remain glued to the television screen, “How bad is it?”

“Not the worst thing to have happened. They’re in cleanup mode right now.” You take a bite of cereal.

“And whose clothes am I wearing?”

“Clark’s.”

He nods, “Excellent. Then it really will be his fault when I kill him.”

You hide your smile behind a spoonful of cereal, “Not a fan of plaid and blue jeans.”

His scowl said it all, “I’m not a fan of him continually asking me out to his family farm to relax. And insisting I’m made for farm life.”

You can’t help it, you laugh, “You’ll have to excuse him. He’s been hit in the head one too many times.”

“You don’t think I’m made for farm life.”

You smile, “You have city boy written all over you. You’d survive, you’ve been through worse. But you’d be bored within minutes, and murderous by the time lunch hits. I’m the same way, and I grew up in Smallville.”

He raises an eyebrow and asks, “Thrill seeker?”

You shrug, “I’m a photographer. A damn good one. It allows me to go where I want, when I want.”

“I bet the boy scout loves that.”

You scowl, “He’s the over protective brother I never asked for.”

“Only child?”

You shake your head, “one younger sister. We’re not on speaking terms. Parents have been in and out of jail since I was a kid. My grandmother raised me. But she was up there in years, and could only do so much. The Kent’s were nice enough to help out.”

He grins at you, before pouring himself a cup of coffee, his eyes flicking to the television screen. You sit there in silence for several minutes before his phone rings. You listen as he talks, assuring the person on the other line that he’s fine.

You meet his gaze unashamed as he hangs up. He smirks at you, “Looking to write a tell all?”

You smirk, “Clark does the writing, I just take the pictures. That being said, a picture of Bruce Wayne in jeans would set me up for quite a while.”

He smiles back, “Or you could let me take you to dinner.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You really want Clark to kill you, don’t you?”

He answers your question with one of his own, “Aren’t you a thrill seeker?”

“Absolutely. But something tells me that you, Bruce Wayne, may very well be the adventure of my life.”

Imagine Valentine’s Day with Peter Quill

I wrote @rebelraptorcaptain a little Peter drabble for Vday and I needed more. 

“Holy shit, Peter,” your eyes widen at the handsome devil. “You cleaned the Milano!”

“I sure did, baby,” he beamed with pride and pulled you into his chest. “Happy Valentine’s Day, you little shit.”

Laughing, you pulled away from Peter and marveled at how clean the ship looked. “How long did this take you?”

Peter groaned out in a sigh, “Too long, I ain’t doing it again.”

“And Rocket’s bombs?”

“Yeah, don’t touch that blue box down there,” Peter pointed to a crate tucked under the table.

“Duly noted,” you smirked.

Peter walked up to you and reached down for your hand, “Go sit down.”

Your eyebrow raised in suspicion, but you took the seat anyway and watched Peter put on his favorite mix tape. Immediately Redbone’s ‘Come And Get Your Love’ came blasting through the sound system and you let out a loud laugh as Peter’s hips started to move to the song.

“No, Peter,” you choked out with a smile.

He grinned and pointed a finger at you, “Yes, Peter.”

Your cheeks flushed as he moved toward you, swinging his pelvic back and forth. His hands moved in the air and he sang along to the song. You snorted when he grabbed a wrench from the table and used it as a microphone, but then he moved directly in front of you and your throat dried.

Come and get your love!” Peter sang to you, a seductive smile on his face. He tossed the wrench back onto the table and straddled your lap, not bringing his weight down onto you. His groin hovered directly in front of your face and his fingers started to unbuckle his belt. “I said find it find it come and rub it if you like it yeah.

Damn the man knew how to make you blush like a fool, because he just laughed sweetly and removed his fingers from his belt. Instead he cupped your face with his hands and leaned down to kiss you softly on the lips. You moaned into his mouth and placed your hands on his waist, sliding your hand up his shirt.

He smirked against your lips and slowly broke the kiss, “Oh, man I’m getting lucky tonight.”

“Don’t be so sure, Quill,” you teased dragging your fingers down his firm abs.

“I’m pretty sure we’re going to bone,” he chuckled and moved from you, pulling you up with him. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Surprise?” 

You glowed with anticipation as he grabbed a hold of your hand.

“Come on,” he pulled you toward the cockpit and winked at you.

“No freaking way,” you screamed and jumped up against him. “Is this a joke!”

Peter threw his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side. His lips graced the edge of your ear and he whispered the most sexiest and seductive words you had ever heard in your entire existence. “Baby, you can fly the Milano.”

Oh yes, Peter Quill was definitely getting lucky this Valentine’s Day.

Pranked!

Title: Pranked!

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Pairing: Tyler Scheid x fem!reader

Word Count: 1269

Summary: Tyler has a new phrase. But how true is it?

Authors Note: Slightly inspired by Friends, slightly not. Part Two maybe? Also, this story is told as the reader is female. As always, for my NonBinary/Male pals out there, if you would like for me to rewrite the story with genderless pronouns, just let me know and I’ll get it up as soon as possible.

Warnings: Slight mature content, implied smut

Originally posted by itsmetrashyz

If there was one thing Tyler said more often than not, even more than his signature phrase of Smile Always, it was “we’re just friends”. (Y/N) and Tyler had been friends for years now, ever since the first time he had come out to visit Mark in LA. After meeting him during one of your many long hours of working at you local coffee house, you had started a relationship of sorts. Yet, the long distance was killer, and the two of you decided a friendship was much easier to maintain. And now, with Tyler living in LA to help with Mark’s videos, you were closer than ever. This, of course, lead to hours upon hours of teasing from the team, and your friends. No one seemed to get the hint, and at this point, you had given up. Waiters who used to get an earful for calling him your boyfriend would get a polite nod and smile, friends who teased you would be met with a witty comeback, and Ethan, who had gotten into the habit of calling you ‘Mrs.Schied’, was met with a swift punch to the shoulder. Tyler, on the other hand, had no problem with any of it. The two of you were friends, why should it matter what other people thought?

        In the short few months that Tyler was working with Mark, you had already made great friends with Teamiplier. Amy and Katheryn would often be invited over to your house for girls nights with your friends, or just to avoid the boys when they were being particularly difficult. Your house, in a way, was a social hot spot. Whether it was your friends or Tylers, there always seemed to be someone wandering around your house. You enjoyed the company, and especially were thankful when you had locked yourself out of the house. If Ethan hadn’t been there, you were sure all your groceries would have been spoiled. You’re positive almost everyone has a copy of your key. 

        It was Thursday, your favorite day of the week. To some, it was just another day of the week, another day until the weekend. But Thrusdays in your house meant 'date night’ of sorts. You and Tyler would go out to eat every Thursday, whether it was the new, fancy restaurant downtown, or the nearest fast food place. It was a special day, when you two could easily talk about whatever you wanted with no interruption from your other friends. You loved your friends, but there was rarely a time you got to be alone with your best friend. 

        You were quick to dress after a day of work, changing into a simple dress for your bistro date tonight. It was your turn to pick up Tyler today. Or, well, you were sure if you didn’t go into the office, he was going to try to talk his way into staying a little longer than necessary to help. Just as you were pulling up the driveway, Amy had bursted through the door, completely soaked from head to toe, a grumpy look on her face. 

        “Amy?” You hopped out of the car as quick as possible, wrapping your jacket around her shoulder. “You okay? What happened?”

        “Pranked.” She said simply, blowing a strand out of her face with a huff. “I can’t believe Ethan’s stupid prank worked on me.” You couldn’t help it. A bubbling laugh escaped your lips, just imagining the shenanigans that were happening throughout the day. “Tyler Thursdays?” She asked once she eyes the cute dress you were wearing. You smiled brightly, doing a single twirl to show off your newest outfit. “Cuuuute. Trying to impress someone?”

        “You know it.” The wink you gave her caused her to laugh. “Tyler still inside?”

        “Yeah, but I’d watch out. Mark has taken getting back at Tyler for the fake spider in his coffee this morning to the extreme.”

        “Duly noted.” After making sure she was okay for the last time, you made your way into the house with extreme caution. However, as you made your way large room where you knew they filmed most of their videos, a large circle of white came sailing at your head. Acting quickly, you just managed to duck out of the way, the shaving cream filled plate hitting the wall behind you. Besides the small bit of splash that hit your arm and head, you were relatively unscathed. The room had completely frozen, watching you silently as you stood, wiping off as much as you could. Mark was standing comically to the side, positioned in such a way you knew he was the culprit of the 'prank’. Tyler was on the other side, holding up a large board for protection, most of it already covered in shaving cream. “I’ll be in the car.” Without another word, you turned on your heel, making your way through the house. Tyler was quick to say goodbye to Mark, dropping the board, and dashing behind you, apologizing profusely for almost ruining your dress. You refused to talk, that is until he promised to pay for your meal tonight. With a devilish smile, you promised yourself to order the most expensive thing on the menu. 

        The next morning, Mark had the perfect plan to get back at Tyler. Sure, it was just a spider in his coffee, but this was about dignity now. He talked his way into getting Ethan to help him load up a bucket of ice water, planning on giving Tyler a pleasant morning wake up. They had to practically waddle up the stairs, the heavy bucked held between them. They made sure to dim the hall lights to not wake Tyler with the bright light. Mark, with a devious smile, gave the Ethan the go ahead, and the bucket of water was poured all over the bed. 

        “Ah!” Though the boys did manage to get a scream out of a sleeping figure, it was definitely too high pitched to be Tyler. You bolted straight out of bed, pushing your now soaked hair out of your face, glaring at the two boys you managed to push into a stupor. Making sure to hold the sheets to your body, you stood, angrily pointing a finger to prove your anger. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You can’t just go around throwing ice water on people, especially people who haven’t done anything to you!” Despite the fact you were practically boiling over, the two boys couldn’t take their eyes off of you, faces completely red. “What?!” Surprised, you felt another blanket surrounding you, but not before you were turned and pulled into someone’s warm chest. Despite also being soaked with water, Tyler still managed to stay warm.

        “You might want to leave now.” Tyler spoke with an even tone, making sure to hold you close against him. Not only was he covering himself for some sort of modesty, the room was too dark for him to find any clothes to cover himself up, in your anger you hadn’t realized that the white sheet usually placed on his bed was completely soaked, which meant it had done nothing to hide any part of you. Completely embarrassed, you pushed yourself closer to Tyler, waiting for the door to practically slam behind the two awestruck boys, and even for a few minutes after. Not only had you just been caught in bed with a person you swore you’d never see as more than a friend, but two of his best friends had seen you naked. What a great way to start off your Friday.

Secret Santa Gift EXCHANGE!

This is my secret santa gift for @pozolegirl 

I was so excited when I got my assignment and it was for someone whose work I already knew and admired! I hope you like your gift!! 


“So you were right.”

“Was I now?”

“Yes. Ladybug agreed that buying expensive jewelry for a girl you are not dating does, in fact, send mixed signals.” Chat sighed as he dropped down through the skylight and sprawled out against the bedding.

“I told you.” Marinette grinned smugly, not even bothering to look up at him from her desk.

“I can’t believe that you two are ganging up on me!” Chat whined, burying his face into her giant cat pillow.

“I can’t believe you talk about me to Ladybug.” Marinette laughed, her attention already back to whatever project she was currently working on.

“well, she doesn’t like it if I talk too much about my civilian life and you are my only other friend as Chat Noir.”

“I know but… never mind.” She shook her head softly, muttering something under her breath.

“So what sort of present do you want me to get you for Christmas?” Chat asked peering over the loft railing. She froze, her eyebrows furrowing. He grinned in anticipation.

“You already got me a present remember? The absurdly expensive piece of jewelry?” She finally looked up at him with an eyebrow raised challengingly.

“Yeah but you hated it.” He smirked.

“I did not hate it! I just thought a 295 Euro necklace was a little much for a just friends present.”

“Yes you made your feelings on that perfectly clear last time. The point is I need to get you a present that you actually appreciate getting.”

“I do appreciate it! I am literally wearing it right now!”

“That’s just cause you feel guilty. I will get you the perfect present. Just watch.”

Marinette groaned, pulling distractedly on her pigtails.

“Chat you are being ridiculous. You don’t need to get me another present.”

“What do you want?” he asked, grinning wider.

“I want you to not get me another present.”

“Try again. What do you want?”

“I’m not telling you,” she huffed.

“Fine. I have other ways of figuring things out. Just you wait Princess, I will get you the perfect Christmas present.” He stood up, giving her a jaunty salute as he pulled himself back up through the skylight.

“Chat!” She called after him.

He waited silently on her terrace, holding back the bubble of laughter in his chest. He could hear her shuffling around in the room, waiting to see if he would poke his head back in or if he had actually gone.

“Stupid cat,” she muttered finally.

Only then did he disappear into the night.

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Feel Me (renewed)

Bucky x (enhanced) Reader

Notes: anxiety, emotional stress, flirting, smut, fluff

A/N: So here it is guys! The new version of Feel Me, I hope you enjoy the parts I’ve added. There’s gonna be more. Some more emotions are still to be explored, so I’ll get those out there when I get to them. Happy reading! xxx


After living in New York for little over two years, you had a steady job at a lunchroom. It wasn’t all that glamorous, but you enjoyed it. The place was quiet, kind of secluded, but often moderately busy with regular patrons.

The second week in working your new job, in a new city, in a new country even, a man walked through the door just as you opened up shop. He seemed shy, timid, and waited patiently until you finished locking down the doors so they wouldn’t slam shut with the wind picking up.

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2

Imagine Jensen being a nervous goofball at your wedding rehearsal. 


Characters: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mild wedding angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: 6k Celebration and One Year Fic-i-verary Celebration Fic FIFTEEN. The line requested was, The line “Do I really say awesome a lot?” was requested by @iwrotemyownending . It will be highlighted in the fic. I combined it with a gif I just fell in love with.  Hope you enjoy it! It kind of came out of NOWHERE. It’s a little cliche, but I love it. Thanks for celebrating with me!

Feedback Appreciated

Tags at the bottom

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you’ve met one another, right?

words: 4337.

or the one where everything is still the same: even and isak still do happen. but it’s observed under sana’s watchful inspection. on even.

(or the one where ten times, sana sees even, as even and isak happen.)

canon compliant, but, with a little bit more. this wasn’t meant to turn into a full blown fic but, oh well, no can do.

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anonymous asked:

13 and 15 with Suga

Boy Next Door (Yoongi x Reader Fluff)

Prompt request: “Are you hurt?” + “Is there a reason you’re crawling through my window?”

Summary: Your new neighbour is developing a habit of crawling through your bedroom window when he’s bored. You know you should stop him, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. 

Word count: 1.6k words

Originally posted by dreamyoongi

You were excited when you’re parents told you a new family was moving next door. You were even more excited when you heard a boy who was your age would be your neighbour. In the middle of summer with nothing to do, you couldn’t help but fantasize about the perfect boy next door. It was every teenager’s dream, wasn’t it?

One early Friday morning, you were roused by loud noises coming from outside. Drowsily, you stumbled to your feet and peered out your bedroom window. It was pointless, of course, because the houses on your street were too close together, so all you could see was the vacant house’s bedroom window.

Only, the house wasn’t so vacant anymore.

A boy was standing in front of the window, brushing his teeth while looking half asleep. From what you could see, he had dark hair, pale skin, and some really nice hands. Then, his sharp eyes flicked to yours, and you soon discovered that your neighbour’s gaze was piercing.

Squeaking, you dropped to the ground–out of sight. You felt your cheeks heating up, totally embarrassed that you had been caught spying. Repressing the urge to scream, you crawled out of your bedroom and into the hall, where the noises from outside grew louder.

Now, you knew it was because your new neighbours were finally moving in. And you also knew that the boy next door was as cute as you had hoped. But of course he had to see you rumpled with sleep and invading his privacy.

Shaking your head, you got back to your feet and thudded down the stairs. In the kitchen, your mom was sipping a cup of coffee as she peered out the window, evidently spying on your new neighbours as well.

“Why didn’t you tell me they were moving in today?” you whined, throwing yourself onto a kitchen chair and slumping over the small table in front of you.

“I didn’t want to wake you up so early,” your mom replied, turning around to look at you. “Why, did something happen?”

“The boy is in the bedroom across mine,” you explained hesitantly. “He may or may not have seen me spying.”

“I heard his name’s Yoongi. He’s pretty cute, no?” your mom cackled. “Let’s just hope he finds the spying endearing, not creepy.”


Later in the afternoon, the August heat became unbearable. In your small room, there was little ventilation, so you were sweating buckets. Pushing away from your desk, you walked across the room to the window. You hoped your neighbour wouldn’t be able to see you. With a grunt, you pulled the large window open, feeling a gentle breeze billow through the opening. It wasn’t much, but it made the heat a little less painful.

Returning to your desk, you became so engrossed in watching anime that you didn’t process the sound of the window across yours clicking open. You didn’t hear the sound of someone struggling to stand on their window frame. You didn’t hear the sound of them leaping through the air.

But you did hear the loud crash of something colliding with your bedroom floor.

“Oh my god!” you squealed, spinning around in your chair. In front of you, Yoongi was sprawled on your hardwood floors, facedown and unmoving. “Uh, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Yoongi grunted, his voice muffled since he had yet to lift his head. Eventually, he pushed himself upright, opting to sit cross-legged facing you. When he didn’t elaborate on the situation, you crossed your arms.

“Is there a reason you’re crawling through my window?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t call it crawling, it was more of a leap,” Yoongi replied, not answering your question. “For a second, I thought I wouldn’t make it. Luckily the drop isn’t that big.”

“You shouldn’t be jumping through windows. That’s dangerous,” you scolded. “But still, that doesn’t explain anything.”

“I’m just bored,” Yoongi said, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve been unpacking for hours, and I need a break. Our WiFi isn’t set up yet either, so that really sucks.”

You nodded at that, feeling a little sympathy for Yoongi’s situation. “You could have just knocked on the door like a normal person,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, but this was faster. Plus, I’m already here,” Yoongi responded. He jerked his head in the direction of your laptop. “What are you watching?”

“One Punch Man,” you answered slowly, a little embarrassed. But Yoongi’s lips twitched into a little smile, and you thought it was adorable.

“Sweet,” he said, turning to look at the laptop expectantly. “I’m Yoongi, by the way. You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yep, that’s me,” you replied. You picked up your laptop and sat on the floor beside Yoongi, setting the laptop in front of your crossed legs. “I just finished this episode.”

So you and Yoongi spent the rest of the afternoon watching One Punch Man on your laptop. It was a really odd situation, but it was surprisingly comfortable. Little conversations popped up here and there, and you took a surprising liking to your new neighbour. And luckily, he didn’t bring up the spying incident from earlier that day.

Eventually, when dinnertime came, Yoongi announced his departure and disappeared through the window he entered by. You peered after him curiously, but he had already faded into the darkness of his bedroom, completely out of sight. Smiling, you turned away from the window. You figured you should close it, but something compelled you to keep it open.


The next evening, while you were blasting music through your speakers, Yoongi came tumbling through your window again. You shrieked, dropping the nail polish you were holding onto your floor. Cursing, you reached blindly for some tissues to wipe up the spilled liquid.

Yoongi watched you clean expressionlessly, although you couldn’t help but feel his blank gaze was judgemental.

“This stuff is expensive, okay? Plus it stains,” you said defensively, tossing the crumpled tissues covered in black nail polish into the garbage. “Give me some warning next time.”

“What, am I supposed to yell through the window?” Yoongi snorted. “I feel like that wouldn’t make much of a difference.”

“I dunno, just text me or something,” you suggested. Yoongi raised his eyebrow at you, and you stared at him blankly before you realized you hadn’t exchanged numbers yet. “Oh, give me your phone. I’ll put in my number.”

“I left it inside,” Yoongi shrugged.

“Ugh, whatever,” you groaned. You plopped onto your bed and looked at Yoongi suspiciously. “So, why are you here?”

“Bored,” Yoongi replied simply. “Plus, you’re blasting some pretty shit music. I had to come turn it off.”

“Excuse me?” you balk. You pointed a finger at Yoongi. “You trespass into my room and then insult my music? Who do you think you are?”

“I’m just telling you the truth,” Yoongi smirked. You wanted to punch him in the face, but you also wanted to kiss him because damn that was hot. Wait, kiss?

Yoongi got to his feet and walked over to your laptop, sitting on your desk chair. “Let me show you some real music,” Yoongi said, typing something into your computer. Eventually, a new song started playing.

It was just a drum beat at first, but soon powerful rapping began to play. It was fast, and the rapper had a raspy, emotive voice. And their voice sounded strangely familiar.

“Wait, is this your mixtape?” you asked, your jaw dropping.

“And if it is?” Yoongi said, spinning in the chair to give you a look.

“What a shameless plug!” you exclaimed, clutching your stomach as you laughed. Yoongi gave you an offended look, and you brushed tears out of your eyes. “But this is really good. I didn’t know you rapped. That’s so cool.”

“Thanks,” Yoongi said, glancing away. You weren’t sure, but it looked like he was blushing. “But you have no taste in music, so it doesn’t mean much.”

“Hey!” you shouted, launching a pillow at Yoongi’s head. It bounced off rather harmlessly, but the look Yoongi gave you was murderous. He stood and approached you silently, and you backed up instinctively.

Then, Yoongi’s hands shot out, grabbing your waist and squeezing. You burst into laughter, trying to wiggle away, but Yoongi only tickled you harder. Tears streamed down your face as you laughed silently, your stomach clenching.

“I’m gonna pee,” you wheezed out, trying to push Yoongi’s hands away.

He made a face at that and backed off quickly. “That’s gross,” Yoongi said, his nose crinkling.

“It’s natural,” you sniffed. “You’re lucky I didn’t. That’s what you get if you tickle me.”

“Duly noted,” Yoongi laughed. He glanced out your window at the darkening sky. “I should get back now. I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, feeling more fond than you thought was appropriate. “See you soon.”

With that, Yoongi jumped onto your window frame, crouching precariously between your room and a two-storey fall. Then, with confidence, he pushed himself forward, leaping through the air and through his window. Yoongi crashed to the ground of his own bedroom, his muttered curses travelling through the quiet night.

You felt a bit lonely, even though he had just left. But at least you had tomorrow to look forward to. Grinning, you turned back to your computer and flopped onto the chair. You realized Yoongi had still left his mixtape up. Turning the volume on your speakers way down, you played his music, realizing that you may be developing a little crush.

Oh well.

- Girl in Luv

Ok so I was going to write I Got You On My Mind tonight, but I don’t have the time nor the energy for 2k+ part right now. I know I suck, but I want to be able to put out good content and sometimes I just can’t force a story. Plus, this one looked like a lot of fun, which it was. So I’m sorry for everyone who’s waiting, and I promise it’ll be out soon! I hope you enjoyed this imagine, stay tuned for more 💛

Mouth Problems

@ stultiloquentia prompted Nursey  doing “something new, hard, or nerve-wracking that leaves him thinking, ‘Huh, I think I just passed some sort of adulthood test.’” The prompt got away from me a little bit, but I hope you like it 


Derek spends the summer dreading going back to Samwell. Not because he doesn’t love the classes, hockey, or his friends, but because he’s not ready to live with Dex. He can’t even keep a consistent opinion of fucking Dex. One minute he’s decent, the next a raging asshole, and sometimes—when the light in Faber bounces off the curve of his perfectly twitched lips just right and he’s chirping Derek about something inconsequential—it feels like Dex is could be so much more.

There’s a mile long list of things that could go wrong within the first week alone. There’s things like how he gets a little too comfortable with clutter (because it means he belongs somewhere and can’t be gotten rid of anytime soon). Then there’s how he uses classical music to fall asleep; which wasn’t a problem living in suite style dorms. But William Jacob “turn that down” Poindexter probably won’t stand for it. Half of Derek’s list is just miscellaneous “mouth problems”. Problems number one through ten—shit Dex says that makes Derek want to duct tape his mouth shut. Problems number ten through infinity—shit Dex does with his mouth that makes Derek want that mouth all over him.  

It’s an ironic conundrum. At least it is from where he’s standing.

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