exhausted emotional and not over this

I wasn’t looking of anything when I met you. If anything I was over the thought of falling for someone. I had finally gotten over someone and the thought of being flooded with emotions each day again was exhausting.

But we practically stumbled on top of one another. Our paths could have crossed, but instead they collided. And the night we met was like coming up for air after drowning in my own tears. You made me laugh, and you told me stories about your life and for that night I was just happy to be me. It was an odd feeling, to be so happy and free.

Things didn’t work out, and maybe it was for the best. This way you can always be the guy that never hurt me, the one that let me listen and laugh for a night. And I am grateful for you and the part you played in realising I deserved better than those I had met before you.

—  To the one that came out of no where, but was exactly what I needed.
Tips on Writing Characters Without Faces

so yeah, we all know that facial expressions can tell us a lot about how a character is feeling, but what if that isn’t an option? how can you make someone emote if they don’t really have standard facial features? the answer; body language.

let’s consider how emotions are conveyed on a stage production vs movie with Sweeney Todd. First, the stage play:

Note how Todd’s entire upper body goes into his gestures, how he’s single-mindedly focused on his dreams and ideals; how his hands GRAB for each imaginary ‘man’ with these sharp, aggressive, destructive movements and how that contrasts with Mrs. Lovett’s body language; how her hands linger in the air and gravitate towards Todd even after he’s pulled away, and the slow turn she gives him. It does an excellent, though exaggerated, way of conveying their relationship (her focus is on him and making him happy, his focus is entirely on revenge)

Contrast this to the movie:

Originally posted by curiousitykilledthekat

Same lines in the song, much more subtle. Lovett’s eyes still track towards Todds, which reminds us she’s still more focused on the outside, but all of the emotion is in their faces. Were this not a close-up shot in a movie it’d be very, very hard to read their expressions.

While I do recommend you watch a few stage plays (in person near the back row if you can) to actually study body language for yourself or try out charades with your face covered with friends/watch how cosplayers or mascots emote, here’s a few shorthands to get you started (US-centric so expressions may vary on your region):

Head:

  • perfectly still - fear, intense attention, feeling under scrutiny
  • tilted up - recollection, intimidation (looking down nose at threat, aiming to appear taller)
  • tilted down - intense thought, shame (avoiding eye contact), depression/sad feelings
  • turned away - not giving person full attention, avoiding subject/conflict without being combative
  • cocker-spaniel (sideways) tilt - confusion, curiosity, amusement

Hands

  • at the forehead - fatigue (wiping away sweat), illness (checking self for fever, feeling a headache), realization/memory (a ‘well duh’ tap)
  • at the eyes - fatigue or headache (shielding eyes from light), distress (blocking out a painful view, concealing tears)
  • at the nose - disgust (a pinch at the nostrils,) irritation (rubbing at sore spot on nose from glasses wear)
  • at the mouth - nausea, surprise, repressing an emotion/stopping self from saying something
  • at the chin - contemplation, tiredness (face resting in hand)
  • rubbing back of neck - a need to relax tension, embarrassment, slight unease/desire to distract self
  • at the chest - surprise, self-protection (reaction to a wounding statement, sometimes used sarcastically), strong emotions (clutching at heart, could be good-strong or bad-strong), need for security (touching necklace/adjusting clothing to conceal more)
  • at the stomach - pain (clutching, pressing), satisfaction after a meal, protectiveness towards fetus when applicable
  • at the hip(s) - confidence, intimidation, nervousness (if grabbing for weapon)
  • at groin - concealment/unease (usually male-coded as protection of genitals), politeness (hands folded in lap)
  • on thighs - exhaustion (bent over, hands on legs supporting tired upper body)
  • formed into fists - holding back an intense emotion, preparing to fight
  • toying with something - restlessness (bored, nervous energy, craving something they can’t touch) or deliberate disrespect of property (playing with personal objects someone holds dear as an intimidation tactic)

Arms

  • at sides, relaxed - default posture
  • at sides, tense - unease, restraint (soldier at attention, person holding still to avoid being attacked), fear
  • crossed at chest - disapproval, displaying authority, unease (hugging oneself)
  • crossed at stomach - pain, intense laughter (caused by sore stomach muscles from laughing)
  • up, fingers laced behind head - confidence, relaxation
  • one arm on back of furniture - confidence, invitation for someone join them
  • general rule - the further arms are away from body, the more confident/dominant a person means to appear; exposed torso indicates that they don’t see anyone around as a threat to them

Legs

  • square with shoulders - professional, restraint, protective stance
  • wide stance, one foot a little back but planted - defensive stance, expecting to receive blows (knees may be unlocked - seen in swordplay and fencing)
  • weight on one leg - relaxed, tired, may also be leaning on something or pair with one ankle tucked behind the other
  • uneven stance - could indicate old injury
  • foot tapping/bouncing - boredom, nervous energy

Whole Body:

  • stiff and still - fear, unease, standing to attention
  • limp or pliant - relaxed, tired, pleased
  • shoulders back/head up - alert, focused, aggressive
  • shoulders forward, hunched - tired, ashamed
  • leaning towards person - interest, intimidation (looming over them), aggression (usually paired with tense arms or hands in fists,)
  • leaning away from person - relaxation, confidence, disgust (recoiling)
  • smooth/fluid movements - joy, confidence, experience
  • stiff motions - fear (reactive, fight or flight), pain (reluctance to move), anger (either fighting to keep control of emotions or lashing out), cold (conservation of heat by keeping limbs near body)
  • cracking joints/stretching - preparing for a fight, often reading as confidence in abilities
  • general rule - close contact/proximity can read as intimidation (paired with tense body - an invasion of personal space) or affection (paired with relaxaed body language, gentle movement) or passion/attraction while distance can read unease/distaste/fear/dislike.

with those in mind, let’s read this scene from Red vs Blue (a personal fav of mine for body language) featuring agent texas from season 8.

Originally posted by cryingmanlytears

So first of all, very relaxed upper body; limp arms held away from the body, which slowly come back to rest on her hips as she looks at what she’s done. Watch how her lean shifts at the end as her center of gravity shifts, and how she has to move her right leg to restabilize herself when she’s finished pushing it. This reads, in order from the start of the loop; detachment (the least amount of her body is involved in the action as possible), relaxation (smooth movements, the deliberation of those little steps backwards) and confidence (hands on hips.) We can tell a ton about this character just in this gif alone, based on her body language.

in summary! this list isn’t exhaustive, but hopefully it gives you some ideas for ways of making characters emote in fics when you can’t see their faces.

I Curse You Until The Day You Die

Originally posted by vanish

*Note, This isn’t for a person who annoyed you at work or such, this is for someone who has ruined your life, for someone who has made your everyday existence into a living hell. You have to hate this person so much that you are willing to, well, curse them until the day they die*

The Spell

You will need:

  • An object of theirs or something to represent them (I had a drawing they did for me when we used to be friends)
  • A black candle
  • A cauldron or container big enough to fit the object in (It has to be heatproof and fireproof, also, take it outside if it’s bigger than your hand)
  • Your tears or something to represent your pain, like screaming.
  • A knife or pin.
  • water (As a safety measure)

Take their personal object and hold it in your hands. Now, I want you to remember everything they did to you, how much it hurt and how much you wanted to give up. Just let it all out, scream, cry, shout etc. Do whatever you need to release that emotion and just let it fill the object with every ounce of your anger, your sadness and your pain. Direct it all at them.

Now, Take your black candle and light it, you can chant this or something else:

“(Target’s Name), You will feel all that I feel,
And you will squeal,
Everytime you think of me, of my pain,
You will feel my struggle tenfold, for all your life.
You will carry this to your grave.”

Take you knife or pin or hammer and go all out on the object, fucking wreck it and let it show it’s distress.

Light the object on fire and place it in the container.

Now watch it burn, focus all that hate and anger into the flames, let them carry those emotions to the target, let the person feel everything, visualise them crying alone with no one to help them, let them be alone, they don’t deserve companionship.

Once it’s burnt, pour the water over it to make sure it’s out.


After-Care

This can be a very exhausting spell, spiritually, physically and mentally.
Take time to relax and calm down.

Take a Healing Bath by adding sea salt, rose petals and chamomile to your bath. Focus on the warmth of the water and let it absorb all your troubles.

Do something that you enjoy, whether it’s snuggling up in a blanket, listening to heavy metal or going for a jog. You do you.

Take time to cleanse the spell area too as energies can sometimes be left behind.

Just take care of yourself.

When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
Read on tumblr

~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)

#DateMeBuckyBarnes (Part 18)

Summary: When Hollywood’s heartthrob Bucky Barnes breaks up with his girlfriend, you jokingly tag him in a selfie on Instagram to express your desire to date him. What you don’t expect is a response from the man himself [Modern AU].

Word Count: 954

‘#DateMeBuckyBarnes’ Masterlist

A/N: I’m sorry. 

Originally posted by ilovebeingjoyful

Almost two weeks have passed since Daisy told you the news about Bucky and his escapades in Los Angeles, days that were a blur to you. Bucky’s calls and texts piled up in your phone with him pleading you to call back, begging you to hear his side of the story. You didn’t bother to listen to his voicemails. You didn’t bother to read all of his texts. During the first couple of days after the incident, Bucky constantly called and texted you, your phone blowing up with notifications that you had to shut the device off.

Keep reading

reginacordium13  asked:

Hello, Cherry. Could you please shed some light on signs and gemstones? I've read so much on this topic and I only get more and more confused. I would love to know your opinion! ^.^

hey, i used to study crystals a lot, i found it hard bc i am not a visual person. but they are forms of energy and some can resonate with certain signs and accelerate or relieve energy, there are some i have found over the years that help certain signs

Aries: Aragonite - promotes patience and acceptance, calms the the mind and body, dispels self contempt. Ruby -  refills depleted energy supplies, heals overexertion and exhaustion, lights a steady and warm inner flame. Blue Obsidian - provides a sense of peace. Aventurine - dispels anger and hostility, restores health to head region 

Taurus: Citrine - fortune, income, stability. Garnet -  helps exchange materialism for spiritual peace, promotes abundance from within. Goshenite helps to dispel tired, destructive habits 

Cancer: Emerald - helps articulate thoughts, encourages domestic pleasure. Green Dioptase - Releases past-life and current-life emotional traumas, heals one’s inner child. Halite - protects from negative and poisonous energies 

Gemini: Fluorite - intellect and concentration. Amber accelerates everything and Gem needs everything cos they are everyone. Red Jasper - balances yin and yang. Yellow fluorite - Heals sub-personalities and negative inner voices

Leo: Kunzite - heals self - negativity and self-depreceating voices, reduces negativity caused by fear and insecurity. Coral blue - heals the relationship with inner child, disintegrates trauma from an early age. Suglitle - helps to identify what gives will be given to the world. Tiger’s Eye: energises pride, power, and courage

Virgo: Rhodonite (relieves anxiety), accelerates generosity, Carnelian -  promotes logic, clarity, and perception. Sodalite - helps infuse analysis with intuition. White Mother of Pearl -  aids in knowing that everything is okay, also helps immune system

Libra: Herkimer Diamond -  promotes mental clarity, positivity, aids living peacefully, connects to other dimensions and stars. Coral - supports intuition and intellect for creativity. Jade - harmonises chaotic relationships. Septarian - Takes in energy and psychic information from and about other people when they are focused upon 

Sagittarius: Apophylite-  illuminates truth and accelerates intuition, generates light. Magnetite - hip and leg relief, grounding stone. Orange Sapphire - stimulates one’s desire for soul growth and experiences that lead to soul growth. Labradorite - connects spiritual and physical worlds

Scorpio: Botswana eye Agate allows for exploration into the unknown, Red Coral balances physical and spiritual worlds, Malachite - transformation and embracing of new challenges. Pink Sapphire - heals heart scars 

Capricorn: Onyx - durability and endurance, Citrine - income, stability, fortune, Sodalite encourages self esteem. Jasper, brings back to present time, regenerates and repairs the grounding system. Orpiment (orange)- Helps manifest their life purpose and path, highlights success pathways

Aquarius: Blue Goldstone (galaxy, astrologers stone), Atlantisite - enhances intuitive and cerebral functions, expands the mind, Giarsol Quartz - facilitates powers of the mind for goodness. Rosalite - educes stress and burnout, overstimulation, sensory overload and being overwhelmed

Pisces: White Phenacite - fills the aura with white light of protection. Kornerupine - grounds the overuse of psychic energy, heals the emotional heart, clears heart scars. Smoky Quartz - helps ground into this dimension and incarnation and planetary consciousness

-C.

4

So you guys just wrapped on season 2, and everyone’s talking about how emotional it was.
It was, and it was also exhausting. It was a long season, we shot nine [episodes] this year, as opposed to eight, and also we got bigger, so we kinda went over, and there was more days; the script themselves became bigger – more scenes, more cinematic stuff… so it was a long season. And it’s weird, I’m normally not that way, like I’m happy to kinda come and go […] but even myself, in the end, like… these guys… I have such love for them, like a big brother has for their younger brothers who are smarter, more talented than they are, like I love them and hate them at the same time. When I wrapped they gave me this card and this picture and I cried – and I never cry!

Jungkook: When you catch him masturbating

Genre: Smut

Tags: sex talk/ masturbation/ kinky play

MAFIA AU

Pairing: Jungkook/Reader

Characters:

You: The leader of a mafia organisation. 

Jeon Jungkook - Master of burglary and a hitman. You were childhood friends but now he works for you. 4 years younger. Doing his best to prove that despite his age he’s the right man for you.

Originally posted by pjmjjk


Setting: Having been sent on a mission to steal a very expensive piece of art, Jungkook arrives at your house to report on his job and to deliver the valuable object into the hands of its rightful owner.

If one ever asked Jeon Jungkook what was the thing that he craved most in his life he would without a doubt mention your name. He admired you. Pure adoration and much too visible eagerness displayed on his face whenever your eyes met and lingered a bit too long on each other. You were his boss. Free from doubt, he respected you greatly and made sure never to disappoint the object of his desire. That was probably why he had always been the best in completing even the most challenging and painfully shitty tasks no one else was capable of handling. Utter devotion and competing nature of your younger subordinate and childhood friend Jungkook never ceased to amaze you. It was only natural to turn to him yet another time. After all, wasn’t it obvious that he’d have been more than thrilled to fulfil your orders? Yes, you knew it well. The prospect of a possible reward left him even more restless and yearning for your attention each and every time. 


His main problem that he had to struggle with on numerous occasions however, was the fact that in your eyes he had always been a shy and cute younger friend who had to be protected. Definitely not a real man that could very well make your legs feel wobbly when in his presence.    


On the other hand, poor Jungkook could not possibly realise the fact that you were more than acutely aware of his now changed physics and strikingly different vibes that were coming out of him whenever he entered the room. Was this really the same lost baby boy with puppy eyes that used to sneak into your bed because he could not fall asleep? 


Hell, no. The moment you saw him after a 4 years break had made you question your ability to see properly. He was ridiculously handsome. Tall, slim, but with visible muscles that his too tight clothes exposed all too well. The way he walked even. His voice. Everything so drastically different you wanted to scream. And, there he was - wooing you and doing everything to prove that despite his age he can make you his. Everything to make you see that your mafia boss ass would never find better hands to take care of it. Both, literally and metaphorically.

So, once called to your office and after having heard that he indeed can once again cater to your silly whims, his stomach jumped in excitement.


Originally posted by jjks

Y: Stop smirking and answer. Will you be able to complete the mission or no?

K: Seriously, though… another painting, noona? How many have I fetched for you so far?

Y: Do you have any problems with that? Shall I ask Taehyung if you chicken out already?

K: No such thing.

His voice turned dark and hoarse. After all, you really knew how to pull his strings. Who was the one smirking now?.

K: I’ll take my leave, then. We’ll see each other soon.

Y: Mhmmm…

K: No, very soon…

He corrected himself and you raised your eyes from the documents only to see his back disappearing behind the doors of your office.


The mission had gone smoothly. He’d been extremely motivated to steal that one particularly expensive piece of art for his beautiful boss. Sadly, Jeon Jungkook, professional hitman and a burglar had run into some unexpected problems on the way, which had left him slightly wounded in the end. Had he been too careless because of all that tormenting images in his head? Had it been too difficult to focus on the task at hand with your pretty face taunting him over and over again? He had refused to answer any of these nagging questions and immediately after retrieving the object of your desire his feet found its way to your breathtaking house. 


You went out of your room to fetch a glass of water from the kitchen when you saw him standing in the middle of the vast room, holding tightly onto the neatly wrapped piece of art. A small smile forming on your face, but it died out just as quickly. What was that red stain on his shirt?

Instead of going forward, your legs stopped obeying you and you found yourself taking a step back. It looked so nasty. His shirt was drenched with sticky, red liquid. Was it getting too hot in the room? You suddenly felt it was hard to breathe.

Only then did you notice your loving sister and also a partner in running one of the most fearsome Mafia gangs in the country clutching to his devastated t-shirt in an attempt to perhaps have a better look of his wound?

Wound

The word resonated in your head and you didn’t like the way it made you feel.

K: It’s alright, Lulu. I’m ok. It’s nothing major.

He tried to push away her prying fingers. Hands stretched out for you to show the prize that doubtlessly proved that he had completed the mission without fail.

Originally posted by donewithjeon

Only now you did not care much about that foul painting. You could tear it to shreds right there and then.

Despite having problems with standing he looked so content and proud for having been able to successfully finish his task.

L: Oh, fuck Kooks, it looks so awful! Get that ass of yours to the bathroom I have to tend to this wound or otherwise you’ll bleed out on all the carpets.

You knew your sister well enough to realise that she was just joking around to ease the tension. One quick glance in your direction showed her how bad the situation was.

K: Common, it’s nothing to make a fuss about!

Before she had a chance to respond you cut the discussion short with your command.

Y: Do as you’re told and stop fucking around, you brat!

He looked a bit bewildered but also knowing Jungkook too well, Lulu started pushing him into the direction of the bathroom, not letting him engage into yet another fight with you.

Once out of your sight, you felt yourself getting teary-eyed. Guilt, worry and regret… All these emotions hit you out of a sudden. You were glad Lulu was there. You could not take care of his injury with your hands shaking like that. You felt weak. You didn’t want to show how badly this incident affected you. Since when exactly was the head of a mafia organisation so fragile?

You decided to get him some food. He must have been hungry and tired. The operation to get the painting had taken the entire night and it was only a matter time for him to finally feel the exhaustion spreading over his body.

Not long after, the smell of freshly prepared food fioated around the house. As expected, forever hungry Jeon Jungkook came back to the kitchen the moment his nose sensed it. If there was something that hadn’t changed since he was a child it definitely must have been his appetite. Fond memories started roaming in your head again.

The food was ready soon after. You were observing him as he was sitting at the table and stuffing his cheeks with curry rice you had prepared for him. Cute. Your heart skipped a beat. That fucker… You hated him for being so fucking perfect.

He was visibly tired. Eyes getting smaller and smaller. He rubbed them in between stuffing another portion of rice into his now red from exhaustion fluffy cheeks.

He gulped two 0,5 glasses of cola one after the other. Asked for seconds and after devouring it you thought he’d have fallen asleep on the table.

Y: Why don’t you go and have a nap in my room?

Your melodic voice brought him back to reality. He wanted to respond but only a huge yawn escaped his mouth. He simply nodded instead and took his way to your room where he had a shower and collapsed on your bed just after.


K: Oh god… it feels so good in her bed.

He felt blessed. He was so comfy. It really felt amazing and he was struggling at this point so much. It wasn’t like every day he had a chance to lay down in your bed. He was totally taken in by the smell of your sheets. Everything had your scent and the very thought that it was your bed and that you were sleeping there must have influenced his dreams.

Needless to say, after a couple of hours later he woke up with a huge problem in his now too tight boxer briefs. The dream he had was so vivid… The truth was he’d been dreaming of you numerous times but today it was more real than ever.

He was laying there, still a bit sleepy and drowsy from his nap. When he opened his eyes he could have sworn that he really had fucked you. He didn’t even know where he was…

After the initial confusion, everything slowly came back to his pretty head and he felt a frustrating disappointment the moment he finally realised it had been all just a wet dream.

One of too many…

K: No you didn’t just have sex with Y/N in the kitchen, get a hold of yourself, you idiot… It was just a fucking dream.

He reprimanded himself. The statement he had just uttered was so mentally agonising but he had to do this to bring himself back to harsh reality. The one in which he didn’t have sex with you in the kitchen after you had prepared a curry rice for him.

All he wanted was to close his eyes and go back to this vivid dream. But, unfortunately, even though he was trying very hard to fall asleep again there was this problematic issue that didn’t let him sleep anymore…

K: Gahhh...

He growled angrily in frustration. This poor boy was shifting nervously from one to the other side of the bed while replaying images of you and him fucking mindlessly on that kitchen counter. He got so hard it was beginning to be painful. Almost unbearable. If he had been in his own bed he would have jacked himself off as he usually did when he had these dreams with you.

It felt a bit not right to do that there, though… Right? 

At least, somewhere at the back of his head, he knew he really shouldn’t have. That it was inappropriate and just simply wrong. He was having this mental fight. Weighing arguments for and against.

K: Get your shit together. You won’t wank off in her bed!

He angrily switched position to lay on his stomach and put his arms under the pillows to prevent himself from doing any nasty things.

Turned out, that it was the worst possible decision ever…

He felt his large hands brushing against some silky material. It was so nice to touch that he fumbled it in between his fingers. Soon after, the curiosity won over him and he pulled out the fabric from under the pillows.

He examined the delicate material resting in his palms.

K: No… noooo…

He took a deep breath and squeezed your panties in his hand burying head into the sheets. It was the exact moment when it dawned on him that he had lost this unfair battle. He rolled over on his back again.

His free hand immediately in his boxers and he started jerking off.

Shamelessly.

No further doubts in his head anymore. It just felt too good to control himself and he had yearned for this too much to stop.

He was playing with your panties in one of his hands, while the other slowly worked his rock hard member. He even sniffed them trying to get to know how you would taste. He was still replaying the mental images from the dream in his head. He wanted to be in you so badly.

So badly that he took your panties and without much thinking wrapped his painful erection with them. He began pumping even harder and quicker.

The fabric created this nice sensation on his skin and a soft moan escaped his lips. He was breathing laboriously and he even cried out your name from time to time, imagining that he is indeed thrusting into you on that kitchen counter as it had been in his dream.

Your panties were completely soaked wet. He was leaking with precum and only moments shared him from this much-needed release. A couple of strokes with his skilful hand and long fingers.

But then, he heard a knock on the door.

Y: Kookie, are you up?

It was you. His heart almost stopped in his chest. He quickly covered himself with the blanket and answered in a shaky voice. So unlike him.

K: Yeaahhh… Kind of…

Is he out of breath? - you were thinking to yourself, getting a little worried about his condition.

Y: Are you unwell, Kooks?

K: No, I’m just fine, noona. Perfectly fine!

Let’s be honest. It didn’t sound too convincing so you slowly opened the door and entered the room. He was covered up with blankets up to his ears. 

So cute…Too cute…

Your thoughts once again drifting away in a wrong direction. You couldn’t help, but to smile at this big boy.

Y: Did you sleep well, sleepyhead?

He saw you were moving in the direction of the bed and was mentally panicking. He wanted to die for his stupidity and lack of any control over his hormones. Being caught by your love interest while jacking off in her bed? What a wonderful prospect! It surely would help in proving that he wasn’t a childish boy anymore. He was crying inside and scolding himself in his thoughts.

it was like a really shitty predicament that he found himself in… it became clear that you intended to sit beside him on the bed and soon after, there he was with a hard on and you sitting inches away from him. His face was so red you kept on nagging him with questions…

Y: Kookie, are you sure you’re alright?

You touched hid forehead with your hand.

Y: You seem feverish…

K: No, trust me! I’m ok, noona.

He really tried to play it cool. Too bad…

Y: Maybe it’s because of the wound? Lemme see it.

After saying that you took the sheets in your hand, wanting to uncover this poor, little, wounded boy… You were so worried!

K: NOOOOOO… NO!

He almost jumped on the bed desperately catching the sheets and clinging to them for his dear life which in all honesty got you even more worried about him. Maybe even annoyed? Was he playing a big man while actually, he was in real pain? Your face twisted at the thought.

Y: Oh, I knew it! You’re in pain! Why didn’t you tell us earlier?!

You kept on shouting louder and louder.

Y: Don’t try to act like some fucking badass! It’s not one of your stupid video games you brat!

Then you pulled the sheets with all of your force… and well…

You didn’t quite expect to see what you saw. First of all, Jeon Jungkook,, your childhood friend and now a subordinate had a fucking hard on. Second of all? It seemed as if your panties stood out from under his boxers.

Thirdly…

Y: Kooks, you’re huge!

You thought to yourself or maybe you wanted to but it turned out that you had just said it out loud.

Yes, it must have been the case judging from Jungkook’s reaction. His chocolate brown eyes went wide. He wanted to say something. He even opened his mouth in order to do so, but in the end, he didn’t utter a thing. At least, nothing coherent.

You were just staring at his length… Everything about this situation was oh so awkward. He felt so ashamed. He tried to read from your face what you were possibly thinking and sadly, he only had bad predictions

K: Baby girl, I’m so sorry… It just kind of… happened? I don’t know how… I mean…

And truth to be told all you were thinking then was how damn hot he looked. His body in full view. Rock hard thighs pressed together in a pathetic attempt to hide his throbbing member. He was so visibly scared of your reaction. His plump lips were left partially open in an ‘o’ shape. Eyes even bigger than ever.

You felt the sudden urge to touch him. He was just irresistible, You more or less knew what must have happened and you couldn’t really blame him… He’s so young… He had been in your bed and then he probably also found the panties.

You felt your core getting hot. The idea of Jungkook touching himself in your bed was simply too alluring… and so dirty.

Immediately, you decided to play along.

Y: Did you wank in my bed?

K: Noona, I’m so so…

Y: Answer the question, dammit!

You interrupted him not letting him utter his miserable apologies. He grabbed so hard on the sheets that it must have hurt him. He averted your gaze feeling so bad for himself, but then… he forgot how to breathe when he saw your hand approaching his boxers.

K: Noona?!

You took the string of your panties that was standing out from his boxers and you slowly pulled the string trying to take them out and unwrap his member.

And, oh fuck… You could only imagine how pleasurable it was for him observing how he threw his head back moaning in response. His body shivered feeling as the fabric was ticklishly moving around his shaft.

K: Baby girl…

Breathless plea leaving his deliciously enticing wet with saliva lips.

Y: Did you think about some other girls when you were jerking off?

Your voice as cold as it was only possible. He frowned at the accusation. He wanted to respond but you caught him short when you put a hand on his hard member caressing him through the boxers.

K: Ahhhh…

He inhaled sharply and due to the pleasurable sensation that unexpectedly crept over his body, he forgot what he was about to say. His mind completely blank focusing only on your ministrations. Hips already rocking in rhythm with you palm. His orgasm was quickly building up all over again. You were rubbing his cock in circles never really fully taking him into your hand, but applying enough pressure for him to forget his name.

Y: Answer the fucking question, you brat!

You ran up with your hand so high that it must have hurt him now. He squeaked and his hands involuntarily trying to hold you closer to his chest so as to hug you, He truly wanted to answer back, but it was all very hard because of your touch.

K: Noona, I’d never…Believe me, please!

His answer delivered in between desperate moans and harsh grunts coming out of his throat.

Y: So, what did you think about? Eh?!

K: About you!

He blurted out truthfully. His head collapsing in the crook of your neck.

Y: Like I’d believe you, you dirty, little liar!

He was so turned on that he was bending down, trying to look for your lips. His hip thrusts even more erratic now. It wasn’t going to last much longer. Despite feeling like in fucking heaven he was so flustered that you didn’t want to believe him. He quickly spat out, without much thinking. His voice cracking all the time.

K: I was dreaming about fucking you on that damned kitchen counter!

Words quickly came out of his mouth. His laborious breathing was a true music to your ears.

A way to get a confession out of a guy. Indeed. But, he sounded so sexy you felt a sudden wave of pleasure in your stomach and you felt that it was too much to tease him so you cooed…

Y: Baby, please tell me more. 

His spirits got up after hearing that familiar nickname. You went on.

Y: Did you fuck me well?

Being obviously turned on as well at this point, you couldn’t keep it in anymore. Your words were like magic. He started eagerly nodding his head. Overexcited and happy that you finally believed him.

K: Baby you were moaning so hard for me, I swear…

Y: Was I?

K: Oh, yes, yes. You did! You even screamed my name over and over again.

All the time you kept massaging his dick and, not surprisingly, being the little kinky shit that he was, your dirty talk threw him over the edge. Before climaxing he once again nuzzled his head into your neck as if embarrassed and came hard into his boxers.

Frankly, you hadn’t even palmed him properly but he came anyway. You chuckled a little when you realised that. He hugged you so tightly afraid of letting go. You hugged him back, fondly massaging his back and helping him to calm down. When he was more or less alright he put your foreheads together and looked deeply into your eyes, still a bit embarrassed. He bit his lip. The usual habit when he got nervous and then he kissed you. Deeply. With such passion, you could feel his affection towards you. He was so needy and wanted you so badly words could not express how he felt then…

Out of a sudden, you heard Yoongi screaming as if there was some kind of an emergency or what not…

S: Y/N… where are you?! I came to hang that fucking painting for you!

Judging from his voice he must have been getting closer and closer to your room. You didn’t want to let one of your most mean assistants know that you had just jerked off Jungkook, so you quickly leaped to your feet leaving him with puppy eyes.

Y: Sure, coming!

Just before leaving the room you gave Jungkook a quick peck on his forehead and he flashed that gummy smile of his that had always made your stomach feel disturbingly warm.

Originally posted by bangtan-so-far


And this is how Jeon Jungkook got his very first and definitely not the last orgasm from you. 

Hader: At SNL, we called it the Friday night crazies, because by Friday night, everyone’s exhausted. Kristen and I and Fred Armisen would really go bonkers.
Wiig: You’d just hear over the loudspeakers, “Okay guys! Please!”
Hader: And I’d be fitting Kristen into a refrigerator. Or we’d do a thing where one of us would mouth the words on camera, and we’d do each other’s voices.

Kristen Wiig and Bill Hader for the New York Times | September 2014 (x)

Jealous Much? (Pietro x reader)

Good evening babes! I hope your Saturday went well. I love you all, and I’m sorry this weekend isn’t super filled with fics, but it’s a hectic family kind of holiday, so I’m doing my best to be as active as possible. Much love, xoxo

Request:  can you write a pietro imagine where he loves the reader but doesn’t show it so she brings someone else as her date to a party and eventually he gets so fed up that he picks her up and runs off and they have really rough dominant sex? by: Anon

Warnings: SMUT. Cursing. 

MASTERLIST


Tonight was one of Tony’s grand parties where all important and famous guests came to spend their Friday night. He had asked you to find a date, so that you wouldn’t be alone. Everyone else on the team had a date, well, besides Pietro. Honestly, you had a huge thing for him, but you always thought that he could never feel the same way. He was always so feisty, and it made it hard for you to read him. Was making snark remarks his way of flirting? Nobody knew, especially you. So, having no date within the circle of your fellow Avengers, you had asked one of your old friends if he would accompany you to the party. Luckily, he agreed. 

You slipped on a form fitting black dress with a low neck line, that showed just enough to catch the right person’s attention. Your hair fell effortlessly around your shoulders, brushing lightly against your arms. You met your date at the party, and as you walked across the room, you started catching people’s eyes. They stared at your curvy figure, the exposed parts of skin, and they were head over heels for the way you strutted. You kept mostly to yourself and your date, not wanting to draw attention to yourself. Well, the only person’s attention you wanted was Pietro’s, but you wouldn’t admit it. So, you talked it up with your good friend, bringing up old memories and cracking jokes with them. The two of you were really close, you guys were basically siblings. Naturally, you were more comfortable with them, and you would nonchalantly would drape your arm over them. To other people it would seem like you were a couple, but to you two, it meant nothing. 

But, oh, did it mean something to Pietro. He was drifting away from a conversation with Wanda as he stared daggers at you and your date. The way you put your arm around him, or whisper in his ear, got his blood boiling. Seeing you with him was making him jealous. He should be with one with you on his arm, whispering all the things he was going to do to you later. Yeah, okay, he didn’t ask you. But, it was out of pride. Pietro didn’t want everyone to think that he would just fall to his knees for you. 

At this time, you and Pietro were catching glances at each other, the tension between you two growing. He would slit his eyes at your date then quickly shift his gaze to yours. You would respond with a stoic glare, quietly wondering why he was acting meaner than usual. He was being sassy, and it was pissing you off. But God, did he look good in his suit. The dark blue contrasted against his alabaster skin so well, his bleach blonde hair complimenting the look. You wanted to tear it all off of him, and you were doing so in your mind, biting your lip at the thought. From across the room, Pietro was leaning against the bar, a growl erupting in his throat. He couldn’t take this anymore. You were being a little to friendly with your date for his liking. And seeing you bite your lip got him very aroused. 

“Get the fuck over here, princessa.” A low, raspy voice whispered in your ear, before zipping you off down the hall, leaving nothing but a blue streak in their wake. It all went by so fast, making you very disoriented when he stopped in his bedroom. 

“Pietro, what the fuck?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, quite baffled at his actions. “I swear to g-” You were quickly cut off by his lips harshly colliding with yours. It was unexpected, but you quickly melted into his touch. You had wanted this for so long that nothing was going stop you now. 

“Stop talking to other men, F/N. I don’t like to share.” He pressed you up against a wall, whispering into your ear, then lightly biting your neck. You moaned, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. 

“Jealous much?” You mumbled under your breath, pressing your lips against his in a passionate kiss. Without saying another word, the two of you quickly tore each other’s clothes off and threw them onto the floor. 

“Fuck, F/N. I want to fuck you so bad.” He mumbled into your neck, sucking on your sweet spot. You already knew he was going to be leaving a bruise there. But, you didn’t mind. If he was marking you as his, then hell, let him do it. He roughly kneaded your breast with one hand, grabbing your ass with the other. You gasped as your nipples began to harden under his touch. He lifted you against the wall, and you wrapped your hips around his waist for leverage. Your bare core brushed against his stomach, earning a moan from him. With every movement, you could feel Pietro’s erection getting harder.

“Why the fuck didn’t you do this earlier?” You gritted through your teeth. Pleasure surged through your veins. Your eyes were dilated with pure lust for him. “If you wanted me all to yourself, you should have done something about it.” You met his gaze, receiving the same lustful look.

“Don’t question me. Piss me off more, and I’ll fuck you harder than anyone has ever before.” He ended with a slap to your ass, leaving a red handprint. You yelped, and he grinned at your reaction. When you couldn’t take the build up anymore, you clawed at his back, trying to lift yourself onto his cock.

“Eager, are we?” He smirked. Then his face turned stern and dominant. “You don’t get it till I say so, princessa.” You moaned. Your bare core was pulsing, and you were leaving your juices all over his toned abs.

“I swear to god…” You said in between moans. “Fuck me already, damn it.” The two of you were fighting for dominance, and both of you were relentless. This time, Pietro gave in, but he wasn’t nice about it.

“You asked for it.” He growled and lifted you up, then forcefully thrusting himself into you, bottoming out inside of you beating core. You screamed his name, painful pleasure erupting in your body. He gave you no time to adjust to his length and immediately pulled out almost all the way before plunging his cock back into you. You clawed at his back and tugged at his hair. He moaned your name, you tight core feeling so good around him.

“Pietro! Fuck… I-I’m almost…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence as you gasped for air, every thrust knocking the wind out of you. He smirked, glad he was getting you to your breaking point. Without warning, he used his speed to thrust in and out of you at mind blowing rates. You screamed out as he hit your g-spot what seemed like a million times.

“Fuck!” You moaned out and your body tensed, your orgasm rippling through your core. Pietro followed close behind, and you felt him twitch inside you, his movements becoming sloppy. He slowed down, rocking you through your euphoria. You felt his hot cum release inside you, then felt it dribble down your thighs. He bit your collarbone and you fell into him, exhausted and blissful. You were slumped against his body as he pulled out of you, then lifted you up into his arms bridal style, laying you in his bed. You eyelids were heavy, and your breathing was slow and deep. Pietro pulled the covers over both of your bodies, pulling you into him. As you fell asleep, you completely forgot your friend along with the party that was roaring downstairs.

You were fast asleep in minutes, and Pietro took the opportunity for his confession. His face softened, a different wave of emotions rippling through him.

“You’re mine, F/N. Never forget that. Because guess what? I’m in love with you.”


Good evening babes!! I hope you had a good Saturday. I got to spend my day with cute babies. Best. Saturday. Ever. Just a reminder that you’re all beautiful and I love you guys!! xoxo

ALL TAGLISTS ARE OPEN.

Taglist:

@barely-emily @purplekitten30 @mcfuccfairy @fandomlover2001 @elegantnightmareshiro @buckysplumfondler @arabellaaurorabarnes @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes @badassbaker @life-is-fuucked @elwenia

Disposable

Anonymous said: “Hi can you do a Yoongi x reader smut/angst similar to the song Shameless by the weeknd? Where he basically uses her and it’s a super sad/dark ending for the reader? 💖 “

Thank you for the request! Sorry it took so long! I hope you like it, and I hope you don’t mind that I changed it a bit. <3

EDIT: I have decided to turn this into a series! If you like sad endings, I recommend stopping after this part, 

If you would like to you can read part 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Reader x Yoongi

Slight NSFW, some strong language, sad ending, idk what else to say but plz be warned


There wasn’t a reason for you to pick up your phone. 

You knew who it was, and you knew what he wanted. Yet every time, you would answer, telling yourself that this time was different, or that you were over him, or that this time, you were just coming over to tell him to stop calling you.

You called him just as often however. When you were feeling lonely, or had had one too many drinks. You had been known to leave long voice mails on his phone, one’s that he would never listen to, but he would show up the next day, pinning you against the wall because he knew exactly what you were calling about.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

About Esther & Cass' post, I also think Harry's team may have over-estimated how hard fans would go on the basis of looking at the JHO efforts. But that song was released under such difficult emotional circumstances. Given how exhausted & fractured everyone is with BG, etc, I (sadly) don't think fans would have gone as hard for JHO without the outpouring of grief & support for Jay happening at the same time. It united fans from different factions like nothing else has, understandably so.

Yeah, I think we went extra hard for JHO because of the circumstances, but we also just go extra hard for Louis in general because he’s never gotten the HQ support that the others have. 

Sony/Columbia/etc. just don’t seem to realize that when we organize and go hard, it’s EXHAUSTING!  It’s very hard work for the organizers and for the people that are committed to cheerleading and supporting it. Reblogging and tweeting may not seem like much, but it’s work. That’s why social media and marketing teams are paid money for this shit! LOL!

So when we feel like the team is doing their job and we don’t have to go full force, we don’t. We support at normal fan levels, which is all we should be expected to do. But as always, they take us for granted and they don’t take into account that we are a very splintered faction right now. And that is their fault.

Columbia may not have been the originator of babygate, and Sony may be a partner of Syco, not the “overlord” of it, but still, Sony corporate has had the power to end this all along and they haven’t. We know it, they know it, it’s just a fact.  For whatever reason they simply haven’t.

And it has severely damaged the fandom that they were depending on to throw money at them when they presented us with solo Harry.  And personally, I did throw money at them and I’ll throw more when the album comes out!  But they’ve exhausted us the last two years. We just don’t have the energy right now to beat the drum.

Plus, we do expect THEM to do THEIR job beating the drum and promote Harry like the superstar he is. And, frankly, we expect Harry to promote himself and not seeing him engage on social media is…. odd to say the least. So since he’s not cheering us on like Louis and Niall have done, it’s even more difficult to muster the energy to go hard on social media.

This is not to say I’m not promoting Harry and voting for him and tweeting requests, but I’m not making it my job this time. And I think a lot of us feel like that.

Sony knows what they can do to change that. Hopefully they will.

anonymous asked:

headcanons for how the RFA would react (V and saeran included) when during an intense argument they raise their hand to brush their hair back or something but MC (as their s/o) flinches because in the moment she thought they were going to hit her?

Zen:

  • Zen gets pretty heated easily
  • He knows he should never raise his voice at a lady
  • But he does
  • What was originally just a small little issue was blown way out of proportion
  • But in the middle of yelling at you, he realizes what he’s doing and that fighting with you should never be an option.
  • So to calm himself down he goes to run his hands through his hair while you’re ranting at him
  • But as soon as he raises his hand you stop and flinch back
  • Did… did you think he was going to hurt you?
  • This boy is distraught
  • His heart crumbles
  • Is this the kind of person you though he was?
  • His voice is immediately gentle and all anger has left him
  • “MC…MC, did you think that I…that I was going to hit you..?”
  •  
  • His voice breaks
  • He is too scared to touch you, to even approach you
  • He feels so bad!!
  • Would spend hours cuddling you, apologizing with every breath
  • He would spend forever promising that he would never dream of hurting you
  • This boy brings you flowers every day
  • Chocolates everywhere
  • Small gifts for weeks
  • He wants you to know how much you mean to him
  • He is distraught that you would ever think he’d harm you

Yoosung:

  • Yoosung is typically not someone who likes to argue
  • Especially with you
  • So when things between you get heated, he tends to hold everything in and cry, and then if you keep going, he’ll let it out
  • And then immediately apologize
  • So when he is trying his hardest not to yell or say anything he’ll regret, he brings his fists up to his forehead in frustration
  • When he sees you flinch and stop talking, all his anger is gone
  • You didn’t think..? no..
  • “MC? MC… oh god, MC, I would never-please-please don’t think that I would ever-”
  •  
  • Poor boy starts to sob
  • He can’t even bring himself to form the words
  • He hates himself for even making you think that he would ever do something as despicable as that
  • He starts to wonder if he really is an awful person
  • Why else would you even think he would hurt you?
  • You have to approach him first
  • He wouldn’t want to even touch you, and he’s crying too hard to speak
  • “M-MC, go away. I don’t want to hurt you.”
  •  He would make weak attempts to push you away, but would eventually let you slide in and cuddle
  • He eventually calms down, and vows to never even raise his voice at you
  • He always feels so guilty about it, even when you assure him that its okay, that he didn’t even do anything wrong

Jaehee:

  • Jaehee is usually a very level-headed person
  • In really intense arguments with you, she usually just says some biting remark and walks away, and then feels bad about it once she has cooled down
  • She gets really frustrated in arguments
  • And when she raises her hands to rub her eyes in exhaustion and frustration
  • She sees you flinch a little
  • Outright, matter of fact.
  • “MC, you are aware that I would never harm you in any way, aren’t you?”
  • When Jaehee sees you only silently nod, she stands up and walks over to you
  • She takes your hands and just comforts you silently, tracing circles with her thumbs onto your hands
  • You both kind of just let it go, understanding that miscommunications happen but that you love each other and will make things work
  • You do notice that she’s unusually affectionate the next few weeks though ;)

Jumin:

  • You were fighting about something stupid.
  • Jumin gets so emotional over the smallest things
  • And tends to blow things out of proportion
  • He tends to violently pace around when he’s angry
  • So when he is pacing in your direction and his hands suddenly jerk up to loosen his tie, its kinda terrifying
  • It certainly makes you back down, thats for sure
  • At first he’s confused
  • Why are you so frightened? What did he do?
  • He approaches you and kneels next to you
  • “MC, you’re not afraid of me, are you?”
  •  It pains him to see his love look so scared
  • Especially scared of him
  • Don’t you know that you mean everything to him? That he would never dream of hurting you in any way?
  • He lectures about how much he loves you for a long time
  • Buys you a ton of expensive gifts, no matter how much you protest
  • He is so worried that you’re scared of him
  • Things are cleared up and back to normal in a couple weeks, when he is convinced theres not an ounce of fear
  • He always makes it clear to tell him if he ever scares you
  • He just wants you to be happy

707:

  • Seven always tries to make you happy
  • But occasionally he reverts back to being closed off and pushes you away
  • This results in a fight every time.
  • They’re always short and resolved quickly, but quite heated
  • This time was heated more than usual
  • He was pacing the room
  • When you say something about not trying hard enough, he loses it
  • Starts to scream and raises his hands
  • He chokes on his word and tears begin to stream down his face as he sees you stumble and fall back
  • Sprints into the nearest room and locks the door
  • Whywhywhywhywhy
  • His head fills with self hatred and “why”s
  • Why am I like this
  • Why is she staying
  • Why did she ever stay
  • Why do I screw every single good thing up
  • He doesn’t ever stop crying
  • How could he do this?
  • How could he make you so afraid?
  • He waits in the dark, listening for the closing of the door
  • But it never comes
  • He waits for hours
  • Maybe he missed it?
  • Eventually he opens the door
  • Only to find you asleep right outside it, a note in hand
  • He takes it and reads it, discovering a heartfelt apology stained with tears
  • Your written apology sends him into tears again
  • You didn’t do anything wrong.
  • He should be the one apologizing, and you should be the one running
  • He picks you up, and wraps you in a blanket, laying you on his bed
  • He goes to sleep on the couch, but when you grab his wrist and pull him into bed, he stays
  • He cautiously wraps his arms around you, and whispers his apology
  • All is well again in the Choi household.

V:

  • V never argues, especially with his S/O
  • But when he accidentally relates you to Rika in some way,
  • You lose it.
  • He stays calm and apologetic, begging you to forgive him and let it go
  • But after a considerable amount of insults and yelling from you, he can’t take it
  • Turns around quickly to face you, gesturing with his hands as he shouts at you
  • Because he’s blind, he doesn’t notice you back away or flinch
  • He keeps shouting, telling you he did everything he could
  • Once he’s done with his rant, he hears a small whimper
  • “MC? …MC, are you okay?”
  • Frantically but gently searches for you with his hands
  • He finds you curled into a ball on the floor
  • He clumsily wipes your tears away with his thumbs
  • “MC…do I frighten you?”
  • He is so terrified
  • What has he become? How could he allow this?
  • He stays with you, holding you and speaking in soft tones
  • He knows everything will be alright when you wrap your arms around him.

Saeran:

  • Lets face it, he obviously struggles with his emotions
  • He struggles with breaking down and flashes of anger
  • But you know it’s not really his fault
  • Usually you back down and let his anger run its course
  • But tonight you made a snide comment
  • Should. not. have. done. that.
  • You regretted it as soon as you said it
  • You were about to apologize when he raised his voice even louder
  • Along with his hands
  • You don’t know if it was an intentional threat or just a gesture of anger
  • But you run out of the room and lock the door
  • Saeran’s anger turns to tears in realization of what he’s done
  • He collapses next to the door 
  • “MC?…MC, please let me in. Please just talk to me.”
  • After no response, he continues 
  • “MC, I never meant to scare you. I’m so sorry. I have no excuse.”
  • He goes on and on, pouring his heart out with great difficulty.
  • When you hear his voice break and his quiet sobs
  • You open the door and hug him
  • You both sit there until you fall asleep
  • When you wake up, you discuss a plan to help him with his anger
  • He’s newly motivated to be the best man he can be for you.


A/N~I hope you liked this! Sorry it took so long. Thanks for requesting!

a time for peace

Hi so I just had a lot of feelings about how emotionally tired our babies must be after all this nonsense, and thought some angst and hugging after The Final Battle was in order.


Dazed and buzzing with fresh relief, it feels wrong for the lot of them to simply part ways for the night. At some point, it’s agreed on that there’s no need to wake Granny this late at night when the loft has a perfectly good stove, and so that’s where they all go. Killian holds Emma tightly as they walk, feeling her exhaustion in the heaviness of her steps—so at odds with the radiant peace on her face.

He wishes he were in such good shape. He feels like he’s holding hysteria only just at bay.

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Empath Hangover:

The exhausted, ran-over-by-a-truck feeling that Sensitives get after a catastrophic event.
(Hurricane Matthew, Pulse Shooting, Tsunami’s, Mass Terror, etc)

Empaths feel the emotions and frequencies of others.  When large groups of people are going through an emotional trauma/catastrophe, it’s that much stronger. 

Treatments: 

  • Be gentle with yourself.  You need to recharge your batteries and rest
  • Check in with friends/family to make sure their safe, but don’t relive events just now. 
  • Others may want to talk about the event at length, Don’t.  You need distance from all of those raging emotions. 
  • Get something to eat.  Food is grounding. Root Vegetables especially.
  • Drink Water.  A lot of it. 
  • Find Sacred Space.  A place where you can just Be, and feel safe.  Grab a blanket if you need to. 
  • Do a calming activity (knitting, art, cooking, reading, etc). 

As sensitives, if we don’t take this time to recharge and cope with the onslaught of emotions that we’ve just experienced, we can be exhausted for days or at worst spiral into anxiety. 

Worth The Risk {Part 10}

Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky knew that all Steve wanted was for him to get along with her, but was it really worth the risk?

Part 01 / Part 02 / Part 03 / Part 04 / Part 05 / Part 06 / Part 07 / Part 08 / Part 09 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 

Word Count: 2096

Warnings: self harm tw (non-intentional self injury, lack of self-care), swearing, violence, angst

Originally posted by retro-gang

*again, TRIGGER WARNING - READ ABOVE*

By Monday, everyone had begun to notice your unusual behaviour.
 
It was obvious that you were trying to put up some kind of front around your friends, but nobody was buying it. And although Bucky was sure that Nat had figured out what was going on alongside Steve and Wanda, no one said a word.

You avoided him and the subject like the plague. Feigned illnesses, impromptu assignments, and unexplained disappearances were becoming more and more common and it was only a matter of time until someone brought it up.

That someone was Sam.

Wednesday night he discreetly pulled Steve to the side after dinner, voice low and face solemn. You’d been absent again that evening, claiming to have an upset stomach, and Sam had had enough. Although it had seemed an unspoken rule not to bring up your behaviour, the situation was getting out of hand and he had to at least try asking about what was going on.

Steve’s face softened as his friend spoke and Bucky watched in silence, slowly wandering closer as he used his enhanced senses to listen in on their conversation.

“If you can’t tell me what’s going on, at least let me know if she’s okay.” Sam pushed, eyebrows knit together in worry.

Steve let out an audible sigh. 

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Home

Masterpost: {x}

Pairing: Lams

Summary: What if John Laurens hadn’t died?

Warning: mentions of time periodic homophobia, panic attack, cheating

Word Count: Word Count: 3,627

Dedication: @imwritingmywayout , @mutantplant  ( @plantwrites ), @overfour-sets-of-corsets they are my betas and they do so much for me!!! Also, @eightmonkeys because they came up with the John Lives AU!!

Tags: @starfreckledlaurens , @bring-me-the-misha

A/N: if you like the story, PLEASE REBLOG! My goal is to become an author and exposure does a lot!!  Anyway, enjoy!!


My Dearest, John Laurens,

            ‘Tis been awhile, for you have been in the cold, unforgiving ground for an approaching decade. I still find myself in times of trouble, especially in this season of relentless heat. It is hot and humid, much like my days as a child, but you know plenty of it.

            I shall spare you the details of my life, as not much has changed since writing you last. My dear James has grown, as with Philip and Angelica. They are becoming outstanding citizens of society and are still very young! Philip is mature for his age, but does find pleasure in jesting. I would assume he acquires his playful attributes from my façade. I cannot deny that I abhor not being my true self whilst around my family, but John, my true being perished with the acknowledgment of your death.

            We were to be the emperors of Congress, my dear John. We were to be comrades through all of our trials and tribulations. I firmly believe that life would be much less despairing if we worked side by side, but that is a question left unanswered by the cruel grips of fate.

 Forgive me for rambling, my mind cannot cease when thinking about you.

 Adieu, my love.

 Ever yours,

           AH.

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Reconnecting (Dylan O'Brien x Reader)

A/N: this one is completely inspired by Dylan being in SA because I’m in SA rn


Warnings: angst, smut smuttty smut


Pairings: Dylan O'Brien x Reader, Andrew Garfield x Reader (Platonic)

***

“You don’t need me anymore.”


The words left your mouth as thought they were a simple fact, without implication or emotion. Dylan wondered how you could do that - how you could keep your voice so calm when your words had shattered his reality from where you stood, the table between the two of you acting as a physical and metaphorical barrier.


“How can you say that?” He asked, his eyes painted an angry red and his hands shaking. You sighed deeply.


“Because it’s true.” You replied simply, and Dylan continued to stare at you in shock. He made a move to reach out and grab your arm, but you side stepped him. “No. Come on. Don’t do that. You know it is. We’ve been over for a long time now Dyl. We’ve just been too scared to do anything about it.”


He let out a laugh that was anything but humorous. A hand flew to his head, where he tugged on his hair in frustration. “Is that what you think happened between us? That’s what you think we’ve been reduced to? Just a pair of morons who were once in love but now too scared to leave each other?”


His words felt like a slap to the face but you didn’t allow it to show. There was a long beat of silence and when he realised you didn’t have a response, smiled bitterly.


Suddenly, he slammed his fists down on the table so hard, it made you jump. “Answer me!”


But you couldn’t. You couldn’t give him a straight answer, not after hearing the way his voice broke. You couldn’t give him an answer, knowing deep down that you weren’t being honest with neither him nor yourself.


“That’s not what we are.” Dylan said quietly, his voice dropping to a sound barely above a whisper. He looked into your eyes with something truly desperate within his own. “You have to know that, baby. This can’t be it. I- I love you too much to let you go.”


Dyaln dropped his head, squeezing his eyes shut. You wanted to run, to get as far away from his little apartment as possible. Because you knew that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to hold your ground. If you stayed here any longer, your resolve would break and you would *never* be able to truly walk away.


“I refuse to believe that that’s what we’ve come to.” When he looked at you again, Dylan had tears streaming openly down his face. His eyes were bloodshot red and his fists gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles went white. He leaned further on the coffee table, as though he was barely keeping himself upright.


“We’re so much more than that.” He told you with such conviction, you believed it to be true. “We aren’t one of those couples who are gonna grow to resent each other regret it.” Before you could stop him, Dylan had crossed the table and taken your face in his hands, cradling it gently.


You didn’t realise you we’re crying until he wiped away a tear.


“(Y/N) we’re forever. We’re the old couple who sit bickering on the front porch but love each other anyway. We’re the ones people look at and think ‘are they still together’ because fuck yeah we are. We’re the couple that’s gonna dance to out song when we’re seventy and can barely move. Baby, we’re infinite.”


“That’s a nice story.” You said, wrapping your fingers around his wrists and pulling his hands off of you. “But it’s not ours - it can’t be. Our story ends here. I’m so sorry Dylan.”


And with those final words, you grabbed the handle of your bag and walked out of your shared apartment, closing the door behind you.


You knew he wouldn’t follow you out - he respected your choices enough not to.


You knew that he wouldn’t talk shit about you once you were gone - he loved you too much to do so.


And you knew that once you got on that plane to your new acting gig in London, he wouldn’t follow you because he thought that you didn’t love him any more.


***

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” The flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras were enough to blind, even through the thick lenses of your sunglasses. It was inevitable. You had recently filmed a new movie with Andrew Garfield and it was set to be a booming success. As a result you had to deal with a ridiculous amount of rumors about your personal life and his.

“Come on (Y/N)! Smile for the camera!” One yelled.

“Congratulations on the engagement!”

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)! Have you and Andrew picked a venue yet?”


You continued to ignore them as you made your way through the airport. You’d arranged for your luggage to be taken care of to avoid mass hysteria and you knew that a car would be waiting outside for you, in a predetermined location.


When you got there, a huge grin overtook your face.


“I thought you were still in Australia!” You said happily, making your way over to the Ford.


“Wanted to surprise you, as all.” Said Andrew, looking just as glad. You laughed and thanked him as you got in the passenger seat.


You and Andrew Garfield had become good friends over the duration of filming. It wasn’t your first movie together and you knew for a fact that it wouldn’t be your last. Although the two of you had pointedly decided not to take your relationship further than the occasional fuck (Andrew was still hung up over Emma), you shared a close relationship with him.


Andrew understood what it was like to have to leave the love of your life. He knew that sometimes, you just needed someone to cuddle up to, or fuck you senseless until you forgot why you were upset in the first place.


You didn’t know what to call your relationship with Andrew, but you relied upon him a great deal to keep you going and vice versa.


“When was the last time you were in South Africa?” Andrew asked, eyes focused on the road.


“Um, about two years ago.” You said, pointedly deciding to forget how awkward it had been when you returned to see Julia and met Brit for the first time. “Last you were here was to film Hacksaw Ridge, right?”


“Yeah.” He shrugged. “There are some places I wanna check out before I leave. I’m leaving tonight for the Oscars on Sunday, and you’ll have to excuse me for saying I’m pretty exhausted from all the flying every other day with you.”


“Fuck you.” You said playfully. “I’m awesome to travel with.” The press tour for your movie ended in California where you would give your last interview together on Ellen before the premier and then it was over but that was only next week. For now, you were here in Cape Town.


“I beg to differ.” Andrew said. “But I will agree with you on the first part.”


You shrugged, not questioning it. Andrew would sometimes have these days when, out of nowhere, he’d become extremely in need of physical affection or emotional support. You never called him out on it because you were almost always the same.


“My place.” You said. “I wanna check out the new hotel.”


Andrew shrugged and agreed, but your new hotel wasn’t the first stop. He took you out for lunch, insisting that airplane food wasn’t real food because ‘For the love of God, (Y/N), it tastes like dirt!’ Afterwards, you went for a quick walk on the beach, during which your jeans became filled with sand and uncomfortable.


“I didn’t even get a chance to swim.” You pouted, walking in through the door that Andrew held open for you. He laughed as he removed his shoes.


“Well it was your genius idea to go in waist deep while fully clothed.” He said, pulling off his still wet shirt and throwing it in the hamper in one of the rooms.


“Do we have a pool?” You asked, walking further around the room. You reached the glass doors of the patio and smiled. “We have a pool!”


“Really?” Andrew asked, walking up to you. He had taken off his shirt and undershirt as well as his jeans, leaving him bare from the waist up with only a pair of black boxer briefs cladding his modesty. “Guess it’s your lucky day.”


You didn’t feel self conscious at all, having to taken your shirt out in front of him. He’d seen it all a thousand times before. You stripped down until you were standing in your undies and made a dive for the pool.


You went in head first and the water was the perfect tempreture. As you swam to the surface, you heard the unmistakable sound of Andrew screaming obnoxiously before feeling rather than seeing him canon ball in.


When you broke the surface, you were met with his grinning face.


“What?” You asked, a hand instinctively wiping at you face. Andrew laughed, not unkindly.


“You’re beautiful.” He said simply. You grinned, swimming the shirt distance between you two and resting your arms on his shoulders.


“What’s wrong?” You asked, because as surprising as Andrew’s bursts of affections were, they were never random.


“She’s met someone.” He said with the utmost care in his voice, which made you grip his shoulders tighter. “I’m happy for her. I am. Truly. I just thought that it would be someone different. Someone who deserves her, you know?”


“Andrew Garfield not liking Emma Stone’s knew boyfriend.” You said teasingly, “Who’d have thought?”


“Oh, shut it.” He said, looking down at you. The words went unspoken, but you knew what he needed. “Are you comfortable with this?” Andrew asked and you nodded, knowing that with being back here your recent dip into loneliness, you needed it too. “You don’t have to do this.”


“I know.” You mumbled, leaning in close towards him. From here, you could see how tall he was. He was standing on his flat feet and the water barely reaached his upper arms. You, meanwhile, were holding on to him to stop from drowning.


“I need this too.” You told him, running a hand over his shoulders before pulling him in close. Without hesitace, you tilted your head up and met Andrew’s lips in a heated kiss.


He let out a sigh, his hands moving to your thighs to lift you up and wrap your legs around his waist. You moaned into his mouth as he walked you backwards through the water until he had you seated on the second step, kneeling down between your legs with the water flowing around you.


You pressed your lips to his heatedly and felt his tongue swipe against your lower lips. Feeling teasing, you kept your lips just the way they were and sucked onthe tip of his tongue when he tried to force his way in.


“Tease.” Andrew said, pulling away to catch his breath. You didn’t get a chance to replied because he had grabbed your ass roughly, causing you to let out a moan of surprise. He seized the opportunity and slid his tongue into your mouth before your lips had even connected.


“You love it.”


***


Three hours later, you awoke to find yourself cold and alone, lying naked on your bed. Memories of your time with Andrew flooded through your mind and you smiled slightly, hugging the sheets to your body.


You couldn’t, however, help but feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. Here you were, in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, waking up alone and with no one to share it with. Sure, you had Andrew but it just wasn’t the same.


The last five years of you life had been lonley, despite your success. Of course, you did have a few boyfriends here and there, but never anyone real, never anyone you’d truly felt a deeper connection with.


Never anyone like Dylan…


You forced the thought out of your head and stood up, making your way to the kitchen. You were staying at the One&Only Cape Town hotel, where you had the most magnificent view of the ocean from your window. Right now, with the sun slowly setting and the reflection of the stars on the water, you felt completely at peace.


A small something of white caught your attention from the corner of your eye. It was a note on the fridge. Walking up and reading it, you realised it was from Andrew.


Sorry, had to run. Talking to J.J. about my contact. Meet me tonight at the Era Night Club (call a fucking Uber you lazy shit) and look pretty. Bringing friends.

-Andy


Reading the note once more, you shrugged and glanced at the clock. It was almost 8 and while Andrew didn’t specify a time, you knew he probably wouldn’t expect you before 10 or 11. Going on an impulse, you quickly cleaned up a bit and put on some clothes, deciding to go shopping.


The centre wasn’t far from where you were staying but you called an Uber anyway. In the rush of Andrew getting you here, you hadn’t bothered to pick up a rental, so that was your only means of getting around.


It was there, in that tiny little Colette store, that shit hit the fan.


You were going through items on the rack, looking for something to possibly wear tonight. Your hand stopped on a cute black number, and you grinned, humoring yourself and pulling out the leather dress that left very, very, very little to the imagination.


Holding the piece over your body, you looked up at the mirror, which ran along every wall and almost dropped your basket.


Standing there, staring at you with the most shocked look on his face, was Dylan O-fucking-Brien.


For a long moment neither of you spoke. You stared at him, watching a range of emotions flicker across his face (you were almost certain the same thing was happening to you) before he plastered on a smile and approached you.


Immediately you lowered the dress, wondering if you still smelt like sex from earlier. Dylan stood in front of you, smiling gently and you heart rate began to pick up, panic overtaking your body.


“Hey.” He said calmly, hands tucked into the front pocket of his jeans. You smiled back, a bit nervously.


“H-Hi.” You replied, taking a moment to look him over. Obviously he was older, considering the last time you had seen him was almost three years ago, but it wasn’t that. He looked tired, sick even. “Are you okay?”


Dylan’s smile faltered slightly before he stood up a little straighter. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He said lightly, and you too fixed your posture. “How’s it been going with you? Heard you’re dating that Garfield guy.”


“We’re friends.” You smiled, but it felt absolutely fake. You hated this; hated how this was some kind of battle of wills where neither could show any weakness. “How are you and Brit doing?”


Again, his smile faltered but returned stubbornly. “We’re awesome. I mean why wouldn’t we be? It’s not like I don’t need her anymore.”


You physically winced, both at his words and at the tone with which they were said. Low fucking blow, you thought. Immediately, regret filled you ex’s eyes and he cleared his throat. “Sorry, that was-”


“It’s fine.” You said because you honestly didn’t give a fuck. You couldn’t meet his eye when you spoke again. “I’m happy for you, Dyl. I’m really glad you found someone.”


You put the bag and dress down, spinning on your heels and making a b-line for the door. “(Y/N) wait-” you heard Dylan call out after you, but you very pointedly ignored it.


When you finally stopped walking to wipe your eyes, you were already outside of the mall. You looked ahead at the calm, settled ocean outside and screamed into your hands.


***

By the time Andrew rolled around, you were back in bed, snuggling up with Mr Pickle, your stuffed Teddy, and cleaning out a tub of Ben & Jerry’s.


“I thought I told you to meet me at the club,” he said, walking through the doors. You looked up at him and immediately he was at your side. “What happened?”


“Ran into Dylan today.” You said, voice sounding bitter. “Had a lovely little chat.” Andrew didn’t say anything; he simply wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you in close.


You clutched onto him like a lifeline and began sobbing into his shirt. Andrew stiffened. “Imma kill the bastard.” He promised, tucking you in closer and gently drawing circles on the small of your back.


“I- I’m sorry,” You said, face still buried into his chest. “I’m being stupid. Haven’t seen the guy in three years and the first thing I do is make a sodding fool of myself.”


“Hey, shh,” Andrew cooed gently. “Come on love, don’t say that. You panicked.” He pulled back, wiping the tears under your eyes with his thumbs. “It’s okay now. You’re here, and safe and you never have to see the bloody moron again. Understand?”


You nodded quietly, and Andrew pulled himself completely on the bed. You shifted so that your limbs could entwine and he pressed a kiss to your shoulder.


Suddenly, you remembered why he was here in the first place.


“The club.” You said, sitting up. Andrew laughed.


“We’re not going.” He said and you gave him an odd look. “Not with you so heartbroken.”


You thought about it for a minute, remembering that you only had tonight and tomorrow morning left to spend with Andrew before he left for the Oscar’s. “I wanna.” You said. “I want to go, to get my mind off of things.”


He looked hesitant. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”


“Come on.” You said. “This is your last and only day here, and I know you’ve spent all of it sight seeing. One last stop before tomorrow night.”


He watched you with a careful expression before sighing and nodding. Untangling himself from your cuddle, he stood at full length and helped you up.


“Go on then.” He said. “Get dressed.”


You shot him a scandalized look, pretending that you hadn’t been crying moments ago. “With you standing right there?” He grinned, but you could still see the hesitance in his eyes.


“Ain’t nothing I haven’t seen before.” You gasped loudly and he chuckled. “Okay, I’m going. Hurry up.”


He left and you paused, wondering what to wear for the evening. Quickly, you eyes the Victoria’s Secret shopping bag with the Gucci one next to it. Well, a girl could always use a pick up.


Less than twenty minutes later you were dressed and looking gorgeous. You had on a tight, black dress that showed just the right amount of skin, with a set of sexy red VS underneath (for a bit of a confidence boost, you told yourself)


“Damn.” Andrew said when he saw you. He had straightened out his shirt and, now that you took the time to notice, looked absolutely delectable. “I should fuck you against the wall right now.”


Heat flushed over your face. “Maybe later, gorgeous.” You said, grabbing a clutch and bending down to pick up your wallet, knowing that it gave you friend a full view of your ass. “Let’s go.”


Andrew licked his lips but nodded nevertheless. The two of you set off to The Era and made it there within a few minutes. Immediately, Andrew led you to the front of the queue where you were let in, no questions asked.


The place was booming and full. The loud bass echoed in you ear as Andrew sat you down at the bar and ordered two shots of Tequila. Lights flashed purple and pink and blue, and you saw the way your teal heels glowed in the blue light of the club.


“This place looks awesome.” You told your friend as he handed you a shot. The two of you quickly drowned it.


“It’s supposed to be.” He yelled back over the loud music. “Dance with me.”

“Aren’t we supposed to be meeting your friends here?” You asked, and he smiled cheekily.


“Well, they’re not nearly as gorgeous as you.”

You grinned and stood, making your way to the dance floor and swaying your hips the way you knew he like it. Andrew laughed, but when he came up to you, his eyes were filled with lust.


You danced to the rhythm smoothly, loving the way your hips moved with his. Over the course of the next few hours, you had more and more to drink and soon you were on the dance floor once more, but it wasn’t with Andy.


“Wanna go back to my place?” The guy you were dancing with (James? Alex?) asked in a sultry voice. You grinned at him.


“No.” You giggled, completely pissed “I’m not supposed to go home with strangers.”


“Well I’m sure we can make an exception.” He said and suddenly his hands were roughly grabbing your ass as he made a dive for your lips. You protested against his mouth, but he either didn’t hear you or didn’t care as his tongue tried to pass your lips.


Suddenly, he was being pulled off you and your racing heart plummeted. “Fuck off.” A voice said, and fear filled your heart as a second man stood in front of you. You made a move to step back, to get away as quick as possible, but the man was faster.


He estimated your moves and quickly grabbed a hold of you, almost pushing you away from the crowd of people. You struggled against him, but he was too strong and held on to you too tightly as he pushed out of the back door of a club.


You blinked, doing your best to slow down your heart rate and have a rational thought. Your mind began to swin as you looked around, realizing that you were now in a back alley. You needed to get out, now.


“Are you okay?”


You jumped, both from the unexpected question and the hand that now gently rested on your back. In the light of the alley way, you could now see the face of your attacker and let out a sigh of relief.


“Dylan.” You said, as if to confirm that he was real. With a drop of your head, you took a deep breath. “It- it’s you. You. I’m- it’s you.” The panic began to slowly leave your body as you squeezed your eyes shut, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up whole.


“(Y/N),” he placed a warm hand on your bare arm and suddenly, you realized just how cold it was. “What were you-” he cut himself off, seemingly thinking better than to ask. “Come on. Let’s get you home, okay?”


You nodded, eyes glued to your feet. You felt completely ashamed of yourself, and as your sobriety returned, so did your disgrace. The reality of the situation hit you hard, and you wished nothing more than to disappear, or maybe get hit by a bus.


“Did you come here yourself?” Dylan asked, his voice gently. Your head began to each and you didn’t meet his eyes when you answered.


“With Andrew.” You said simply. Dylan took a deep breath, and finally you looked up to see a mixture of anger and hesitance and, most dominantly, fear in his brown eyes.


“Where is he now?” You shrugged, but you were pretty sure he’d run away to get his rocks off with some red headed girl. “Forget it. You can text him. I’ll drive.”


You nodded and Dylan lead you back into the club. You couldn’t help yourself; quickly, you reached for his hand and gripped it tight, making your way through the crowd. The only indication that he’d even noticed was a small moment of hesitance before he carried on.


The drive to the hotel was deadly silent. You barely raised your head, too ashamed of what happened to say a word. Dylan had opened his mouth to say something twice, but nothing came out.


“One & Only.” Dylan announced when the car came to a stop. “Someone told me it’s really amazing.”


You looked up, opening your mouth to thank him before realizing something. “Shit.” You said instead and Dylan raised a brow.


“Not that.” A flush covered your face. “I left my bag at the club. I- I’ve got my phone, but my key card was in there. They’re gonna give me hell at the front desk.”


You promptly clamped your mouth shut. “Fuck it. I’m so sorry about all of this. I- I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been there tonight. So, um thanks.”


Quickly, you made a move for the handle of the door but Dylan’s voice stopped you. “Wait.” He said and you turned to look at him. He looked uncertain, but there was no lie in his voice when he spoke. “You’ve had a shit night and I’m sure you don’t want to deal with more drama. You can stay at my hotel tonight. Deal with all this tomorrow.”


'I don’t want your pity’ you wanted to snap, but honestly the thought of having a warm bed to crawl in to was far more comforting. “Thank you.” You said instead, and Dylan started up the car again.


The drive to his hotel is spent in silence as well, but it felt a lot less tense.


“What were you doing?” Dylan finally asked, five minutes into the drive. You sighed, looking out the window. “I’m serious (Y/N). I thought you were smarter than that.”


“Well, I guess a lot can change in five fucking years.” You snapped, then immediately felt guilty for it and sealed your mouth. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”


After a beat, Dyaln spoke again. “I’m sorry. I’m being a dick.” He said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “It’s just,- God the way that guy was looking at you. I thought he was gonna strip you down and fuck you raw right then and there.” You grinned in spite of yourself, and pretended to not hear Dylan’s quiet mumble of 'That’s what I would’ve done’.


A laugh left your lips. “First day here and I’m already making stories to tell my grandkids one day.”


“You’re gonna tell your grandkids that?” He asked in a mock horrified voice. You laughed again.


“Yeah.” You grinned. “Gotta tell them how not to fuck up. All the shit they shouldn’t do coz they’re gonna regret it a couple years down the road.”


Dylan smiled, but it was a little sad. “We all do stupid shit that we regret.”


The two of you fell into silence once more, only now you were both lost in deep thought. You’d give anything, you thought, to take a look at what was happening inside that pretty little head of his right now.


A few minutes later, Dylan pulled up into a parking space. You didn’t recognize the hotel, but it had a beautiful view of Table Mountain, which was currently glowing with the city lights. He saw the way your eyes stared and laughed.


“Yeah, pretty much the only reason I picked this place.” He got out of the car and you followed, keeping close by. Once you two had gotten into the lobby, you took off your heels and padded with bare feet to the elevator and into Dylan’s suit.


“You can take the bed.” He told you, taking off his shoes and popping his shoulders.


“No, it’s fine.” You said, switching your phone on to see a couple of messages from Andrew. Ignoring them for the time being, you walked over to the couch. “I’m good here.” You we’re sure that you would pass out the moment your head hit the pillow, but Dylan’s laugh stopped you from doing so.


“You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow.” He said gently and you sat up. “Take the bed.” He motioned with his head to a door on the wall next to the balcony. “I’ll get you some water and aspirin and then you can pass out, then it won’t be as bad in the morning.”


Your mouth opened to argue, but Dylan was already at the small kitchenette and you didn’t have the energy to speak loudly, your throat already burning from the too strong tequila. Instead, you stood and stretched and made you way to the bedroom.


Sitting on the bed, you allowed the events of the last six hours to pour over you. The longer you thought about it, the more embarrassed you felt. Honestly, you stopped speaking to Dylan entirely more than three years ago, when he said that he didn’t feel right talking to his ex while being so serious about another girl. To show up now, completely pissed and sleep in his bed was a testament to how utterly fucked up the last few months of your life had been.


You almost stood to call an Uber, but the door opened before you could. “Here.” Dylan walked up to you with a glass and two pills in his hands. “You’ll feel better in the morning,” he paused. “Or at least better than you would have.”


A grateful smile stitched itself onto your face. “Thank you.” You said, and really really meant it. It had been a long time since you had felt this taken cared of, this much at home. Dylan smiled down at you, staring into the depths of your eyes.


A long moment passed before he looked away.


“Um,” he walked across the room to where a set of bags sat, still packed. You wondered how long he’d been here. He dug into the bag and came back up with a white T-shirt which he tossed at you. “That’s probably more comfortable, than well-” he raked his eyes down your form and you blushed gently.


“Thanks.” Your head was ducked so you missed the way his eyes darkened.


“I’ll just- um,” he made a gesture to the door then pretty much ran out of it. You laughed gently, reaching behind you dress to pull the zipper off and walking to the mirror.


By some will of God your makeup had remained mostly in place. You dropped the black dress and smiled slightly, remembering how sexy you had felt when you first put on the lacey red bra and panties.


“I forgot to get a pillow-”


You spun around at the sound of Dylan’s voice, arms reaching up to cover yourself on instinct. The dark haired boy stood halfway in the door frame, apparently frozen and staring at your body.


There was a moments hesitation, where uncertainty hung in the air and neither of you knew what to do. It was only a moment.


“Ah, fuck it.”


Dylan crossed the room in three quick strides and was in front of you a second later. His hands cupped your jaw and titled your head up, lips meeting in a frantic kiss.


You arms wrapped themselves around us shoulders, pulling him closer as his mouth devoured your own. You moaned softly against him and felt the shudder that hit his body at the sound. You filled with pride, knowing that you could still get that reaction out of him.


“Wait.” You breathed, pulling back. Dylan looked at you with concern. “You have a girlfriend.”


He looked sheepish. “Yeah, I might have lied a bit.” You chuckled slightly at his confession, and Dylan smiled slightly. “Do you wanna stop?” He asked, and despite the lust in his eyes, you knew that he was being serious.


“Don’t you dare.” You warned, reconnecting your lips with a kiss more feverant than the last. Dylan chuckled slightly, but met you kiss for kiss as his hands began to trail down your body.


“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, eyes still closed. You felt his hands reached behind you as he unclasped your bra, kissing down your neck. The fabric fell down your arms, and you were sure Dyaln did something to it but you didn’t care.


His hands began fondling you. He gently caressed the soft skin of your supple breasts, as you arched into him. He cupped you firmly, a thumb running over you nipple, which had been hard from the cold air as well as the heat.


“Well that’s hardly fair.” You said, tugging at his shirt. Dylan got the message and pulled back, striping down completely before you pulling you back in, pushing a knee between your legs.


You moaned loudly. “Better?” He asked, hands moving to your thighs. You brought his lips back to your and kissed him passionately as he squeezed your ass and pulled you forward. You got the message, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist while he carried you to the bed.


His tongue battled with yours for dominance which you happily surrendered as he explored your mouth, his body moving against yours. You reach a hand between your bodies and found his cock.


Wrapping your fingers around his member, you began to pump him quickly, running your finger over the slit. Dylan moaned and pulled away. “If you don’t stop, this is gonna be a really shitty night for you.”


You laughed slightly. “Then what are you waiting for?” Dylan grinned, reaching to the bedside drawer and pulling out a condom. He tore the packet with his teeth, *fuck* and rolled the rubber down his length. You watch with a watering mouth.


“I wanna blow you.” You said. “But later.” Dylan moaned at your words and leaned down again to kiss you. He positioned himself at your entrance and nibbled on your jaw as he pushed in.


You moaned, your nails digging into his back. Dylan let out a gruff chuckle. “God, how are you so fucking tight?” He asked, pulling back almost completely before thrusting in again, hard.


“Oh,” You breathed, hands find his jaw and stroking it gently as you pulled him down for another kiss. His hands were on either side of your head as he kissed you passionately, and you moaned desperatly, wanting more.


Dylan didn’t move.


“Please.” You begged, pulling away for air. Dylan smirked down at you.


“Please what?” He asked teasingly. You groaned softly.


“Please fuck me.” He chuckled, pulling out and thrusting in, slowly.


“Like that?” He asked, his voice deep and raspy. You wanted to scream. He sounded so smooth and sexy, and looking at you with that smug little smirk on his face, you knew you wouldn’t last long.


“Harder. Faster.” You begged, digging your nails into his shoulder blades and dragging them down. Dylan moaned, and you loved the feeling of his hard, thick muscles under your hands.


Suddenly, he pulled out and began slamming in to you, his pace quick and brutal. You let out a screaming moan as Dylan’s hips slammed against the inside of your thighs.


“Oh God, Dyl!” You moaned, clutching on to him for dear life. “Yeah, baby, just like that.”


“So beautiful.” He said softly. “Laying there, holding onto to me so tight. So wet for me, baby.” He moaned, thrusting in harder.


He reached a hand between your bodies and pressed a thumb to your clit, not letting up at all on his brutal pace. You lasted two seconds before you came with his name on your tongue and his hands in your hair.


With a rushed warning, he followed you over the edge one, two, three thrusts later, spilling into the condom and laying over you. He supported his weight on him forearms, as not to crush you, as he looked down at you with something akin to love in his eyes.


For a long while the two of you stayed like that, basking in the glory of afterglow. You stared up at him, remembering, wondering how you’d given it up the first time.


“I never thought I’d hear you say my name like that again.” He admitted, leaning down and kissing your parted lips. You smiled into it.


“Never thought I’d say it, either.” He smiled, pulling out of you and getting up. He walked to the bathroom and got rid of the condom, coming back with a wet towel which he placed delicately between your legs.


Your hips moved up at the touch. He chuckled slightly, cleaning you up and putting the towel back. “I was a bit brutal,” he admitted, joining you in bed, and pulling you close.


“I loved it.” You assured him, tucking yourself into his chest. Dylan sighed and you could feel the tension draining out of him.


“Dylan” you said softly. “Promise me this isn’t gonna be it.”


“I promise.” He didn’t even hesitate. “And you, promise me this isn’t gonna be one of those things we all do that we regret.”


“I promise.”

anonymous asked:

Today's my birthday and I'm lonely

It’s some sort of natural law that children are twice as heavy asleep as they are awake. Tsunade grimaces faintly, shifting Naruto where he’s passed out against her shoulder. She’s out of practice with children, is still reeling from the fact that this bright, irrepressible five-year-old managed to drag her back into the village she left years ago, but she’s not about to leave him again.

Sarutobi is watching her, gaze both sympathetic and deeply relieved, and she feels a faint pang over her long absence—not quite guilt, but close. After all, he’s had to retake the seat he gave up, had to face his successor’s death and the aftermath of the Kyuubi and all of the stress that’s part and parcel of the Hokage’s job, even though he’s rapidly approaching seventy. And maybe the decision to leave was the right one, but—

Maybe it wasn’t.

The concern in those wise old eyes is clear, though, and Tsunade manages to dredge up a smile through her emotional exhaustion. “Stop looking at me like that, sensei,” she says softly, so as not to wake the little boy responsible for all of this. “I promise, I’m done running.”

Sarutobi shakes his head with a sigh, turning his pipe over in his fingers. He clearly wants to smoke it, but Tsunade’s glare is deterrent enough that he doesn’t even try. “I do not blame you for leaving,” he answers softly. “You must know that. But…are you sure this is what you want, Tsunade?”

“Who else do you have to take the position?” she asks bluntly, and it aches, talking about it, because this is Dan’s dream, Nawaki’s. They were the ones who wanted to be Hokage, not her. Never her. But at the same time, maybe it’s fitting that she be the one to continue their legacy, to carry out the goal that they gave their lives for. “Danzo is a good soldier, but he’d be a terrible leader. Jiraiya is still missing, and has been for years. And Orochimaru…”

“Orochimaru understands that he is not quite suited to the position of Hokage,” Sarutobi finishes gravely. “We have discussed it at length, and come to an agreement. He will forever be a pillar of support for this village, but he is not the correct one to lead it.”

Tsunade shoots him a sharp look, because there’s clearly more to that story than she’s being given, but it’s not her business and she lets it go. “So you’re left with me,” she concludes, and her grip tightens on Naruto as he sighs into her haori. “Besides,” she adds, just one hair shy of fierce, “it will be good protection for Naruto. He’s been gone a week and a half already. I’ll just keep him out of sight until my appointment and then introduce him as my son. No one will dare do anything to the Hokage’s heir.”

Sarutobi’s smile is small and wry, but still warm. “I’ll get the paperwork together,” he agrees easily, eyes on the little blond. He looks…tired. Tired and regretful. “This will be…good for him, I believe. You will be good for him, Tsunade.”

Her grasp on him tightens, the flat of one hand pressing against a narrow, delicate back, the other sliding into hair the same color as his father’s. “He’s good for me,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to Naruto’s forehead, and doesn’t even try to fight her smile. “That he could have grown up as he did and still be so—so bright, it’s…amazing.”

“That it is.” Sarutobi tucks his unlit pipe in the corner of his mouth and smiles back. “That it is.”

My best friend’s girl (Chapter 6)

(Steve Rogers x Reader) (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

This story is nearing it’s end, I think the next chapter might be the last one (7 often seems to be my magical number for some reason)

Thank you all for reading this fic and giving it so much love. This will not be the last story I write that involves Steve and Bucky ;)

Story: Bucky’s been in cryo for a year now, during that time you and Steve have grown closer together. You both want more but are scared to give into your feelings, until one night…

You and Steve arrive home after the party, both crippled by guilt when you find Bucky in the kitchen waiting for you.

No warnings for this chapter, this is just one big Angst fest. I’m sorry…

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Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

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My best friend’s girl (chapter 6)


You hadn’t spoken a word since Steve had abruptly pushed you out of his arms after your close encounter in the elevator.

It was a gentle but firm push and it cast you both back into reality and wishing there was a way to turn back the clock.

But there was no way to take back what you did.

Steve had been giving you the silent treatment ever since. He opened the car door to let you step outside and followed you up to his apartment.

When you were close to his door you slowed down your steps.

‘Maybe I should…maybe I should just spend tonight at my place,’ you hesitated.

‘No,’ Steve insisted,’ If I know Bucky at all he will be up waiting for you.’

You knew Steve was right. And for a second the thought of Bucky waiting up to see you brought a smile to your face, but then reality hit and suddenly you were fighting tears.

‘Steve,’ your voice broke.

‘Hey, stop it, okay,’ he turned to face you and carefully took your hand in his,’ You can do this, everything will be fine.’

You nodded your head firmly. You wanted to believe him so badly, believe everything could still go back to normal and all three of you could come out of this unharmed. But how could it?

You slept with Bucky’s best friend, not once but twice now. There was no excuse for the second time.

Nothing would ever be fine again.

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