It’s a common saying among Stiles’ friends that he doesn’t have a lot of
dignity. To be perfectly honest, Stiles agrees with them (as much as he argues
against the point whenever they bring it up).
But this is probably a new low.
Well, not new-new, because this is into the fourth week of the habit
and if he was a better person, he’d have stopped by now. He’s not a better
person in this instance, but he’s made peace with it.
‘It’ being watching his stubbled neighbour jog past his place every morning
in sweatpants and obviously non-supportive underwear. There’s a lot of movement
down there. A lot.
“I mean, with that much jiggle, he’s gotta know, right?” Stiles asks his
window pane, behind which he’s fake writing on his laptop.
They’re not quite neighbours, there’s about half a block between them for
which Stiles’ sanity is thankful. Otherwise who knows what ludicrous amateur
spying would have occurred.
As it is, he is very thankful he accidentally set his alarm for five am two
(it was four) mornings in a row, because now he knows that this is a morning
ritual for his neighbour.
Today hot neighbour is wearing the cut off, grey sweats. They’re a personal
favourite of Stiles’ (better than the dark blue ones, which make it harder to
see) because it means not only can he get a clear view of his neighbour’s dick
as it swings forward against the fabric, but also his sweaty, perfectly muscled
Stiles sighs out and bangs his head once against the window pane, a small
punishment that is also part of the routine.
What is not part of the routine, is hot neighbour looking into Stiles’
window, and seeing Stiles’ face smooshed against the glass, after which he
trips, possibly in disgust, or just simple distraction.
Stiles’ first reaction is to panic. He pushes his chair back from the desk and
slams his laptop closed.
His second reaction is that he should call someone to come help.
His third reaction is to realise that, hold on, he can go and help.
Stiles rushes out his front door and into the chilly morning air.
Hi i was wondering if i could request 13 reasons why imagine where the reader and Jeff have been dating for a couple months or an year…maybe have smut like they made love and then where Jeff passes away and maybe have the reader visit the grave with clay and tony to tell Jeff..that he was a dad.
WARNINGS: Fluff, smut, small swearing
“Atkins!” I scream when I see my boyfriend in the hallway. I jump in his arms wrap my legs around his torso and kiss him as if I didn’t see him in months when in reality is was literally two periods ago. I’m cheesy like that. We’ve been dating for over a year now, but everyday feels like we started dating yesterday. He never seizes to amaze me. He surprises me with flowers and I still get anxious and excited like a little girl when we go out on dates. He still does things like climb through my window even though my parents basically forced a key on him. He even does things like come over at 2am when I joke about being scared. He’s just the best boyfriend in the world.
“Hey baby” he laughs as he kisses me back. “You ready to go”
“Yes, it’s Friday and I’ve never been happier” I slide my hand in his as we walk out the school building earning a ‘bye’ or ‘what up’ from people.
As we walked to my house, Jeff kept telling me corny jokes and pick-up lines he found online last night trying to make me laugh.
“Babe, knock knock?”
“Not another one J.”
“Baaabe knock knock, come on last one I promise.”
“You said that three jokes ago” I whine.
“Oh. Knock knock?”
“Who’s there?” I sigh.
“A broken pencil” he smiles.
“A broken pencil who” I sigh, already knowing the joke.
“Never mind it’s poin-”
“Pointless” I say as I laugh dramatically. He looks at me seriously for interrupting his corny joke.
“Sorry baby, love you!” I try to kiss him the rest of the way home as he pretends to be mad at me.
As we walk in, he stills pretend to be mad when he stomps into my room and close the door. He closes me out my room. My room.
“Babe really” I laugh.
“Do a knock knock joke then you can come in.”
“Well then I’m going to go take a nap”
“No!” I roll my eyes as if he can see it. “Fine babe…knock knock”
“Who’s there” he cooed.
“Al.” I smirk.
“Al strip for you if you open this door” I smirk biting my lip. As soon as I said that, the door swung open and I’m met with Jeff’s lips as he pulls me inside. He shuts the door and pushes me up against it.
“No need to do that” he whispers in my ear. He starts kissing and sucking on my neck and pulls up the dress I’m wearing. He slides his hands under my underwear to my butt and pulls me to him.
“J-Jeff” I moan. He looks at me and bit his lip as he throws the dress off, leaving me in just my bra and panties. He scans my body as I turn my head, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He moves my head to face him and I see such admiration in his eyes.
“You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” When he said that I wanted nothing more than to feel him on me. I throw my arms around his neck and hungrily kiss him. He grabs my legs and I jump on him as he moves us to the bed. He hovers over me as he deepens the kiss. He puts his hand behind my neck to pull me closer to him. He rubs my thigh up and down as he slowly peppers kisses all over my neck and chest. He’s painfully teasing and I can’t take it.
“Jeff” I whisper.
“I need you” he looks at me and simply smiles.
He continues to kiss my neck as he unclasp my bra. He starts sucking my breast and massaging the other as I run my hands through his hair. He does the same to the other and I’m a moaning mess.
“Jeff please” I moan.
“We’re almost there baby” he whispers.
He kisses down my stomach and thigh slowly, never breaking his stare from me. I whine again as he comes back and goes back to sweetly kissing me. I groan from the friction of my almost bare core against his jeans and wiggle for him to get the idea. He does and pulls off his jeans and I hastily pull off his shirt.
“Someone is ready” he giggles. I roll my eyes and roughly palm his member through his boxers making him grunt.
“Someone is hard” I mimic smirking. He tries to keep his groans in until I full on grab him and he does a full moan. Now he’s the frantic one as he rips my underwear off of me. Literally.
“Jeff!” I scream.
“Sorry baby, I’ll get you another one” he smirks. He slides his hands all over my body, making me shiver.
“You like that?” he asks. I nod as he slips a finger in me and goes back to kissing. I whimper from his touch and go for his underwear. I push them down and his member springs out. He kicks them off and slides two fingers in this time. I moan into his mouth as he goes at a fast pace. I let out more moans as I start to get close.
“Jeff baby, I’m abou-” when I said that, Jeff pulled his fingers away and I frown.
“I want to feel you cum, not with my fingers” he smirks.
He grabs a condom out his wallet from his pocket and slide it on. He gives me a look for confirmation and I nod, just wanting to feel him already. He pushes his length into me. At first it hurt, but it always does when we have sex because of his huge size. The longer he’s in me, the more I get used to it. He pushes in slowly and draws out a little. I start to moan as I connect my lips with his. As he picks up his pace, I dig my nails into his back. He hooks my legs over his shoulder and I scream a little.
“Je-OH My fuck!” he’s directly hitting my g-spot and I can’t even think. I moan louder as I grab the pillow under my head, arching my back.
“Fuck princess! you feel good” he moans.
“H-harder J-Jeff!” He goes harder and I start almost full on screaming. As we both are climaxing, Jeff pulls out and puts me on all fours. He pushes back in and grabs my breast from behind. I lean back as he kisses my neck while pounding into me. He moans into my ear as I hold the back of his neck. I can’t control my moans and screams and neither can he. They come out louder as he hits the right spot over and over again. As we get closer, I fall onto my hands and Jeff holds my waist. He roughly rubs me with his fingers as I scream to let go of my release.
“J-JEFF!” I scream.
He cums shortly after I do and collapse next to me. We lay there in a comfortable silence while I rest my head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around me. Both still out of breath, he looks over to me.
“Who’s there” I laugh.
“I love who?” I say, letting him finish it this time for his sake.
“I love you” He smiles as he kisses me.
“My corny boyfriend” I laugh.
“You guys have been inseparable all night my gosh” Jessica drunkenly laughs. Me and Jeff look at each other and chuckle, knowing exactly why. We have been at Jessica’s party for a while now and have been sitting on the couch with Jessica, Bryce, and Zach.
“Leave them alone babe, that’s how we are” Justin laughs.
“Oh, you get me flowers?” when Justin doesn’t answer, all of us start cracking up.
“Well I’m going to get a beer, you guys want one?” Zach asks as he gets up.
“Nah no thanks man, my girl will kill me cause I’m the driver tonight” I smile when he said that, happy that he cares about his well being. We continue talking to our group of friends and have a pretty good time.
“Where is Clay and Hannah” I whisper in his ear.
“Somewhere around here, probably upstairs, I did my meddling for the night and got them together.”
“Aw how noble of you” I giggle, pinching his cheeks. “Thank you ma’am”.
“See! look at them, they are perfect” Jessica playfully whines.
“Shut up!” Justin say as he grabs her face and start full on making out. Everyone starts ewing and shooing them off the couch.
“Get a room!”
“Jess, your room is upstairs!”
“Get it Foley!”
Justin flips us all off, never breaking their kiss and we all laugh. Monty taps Jeff on the shoulder and screams over the loud music.
“Yo bro you still doing the beer run!?”
Jeff got up and nodded his head, “Yeah shit I almost forgot”
I got up with him, frowning and grab his arm before he could go anywhere, “Babe do you have to go? I’m pretty sure there is enough beer, just not enough for every single person to get ass faced drunk.”
He kissed my forehead and smiled, “I’ll be right back babe I promise”. I pick up my bag and turn towards him, “Okay then I’m coming with you”.
“Baby, you have to watch out for Clay and Hannah remember, I’ll be back in 15 minutes then we can leave right after.”
I sigh still not liking this. I know he didn’t drink anything, but I’m still nervous for him to be out this late. What if someone else out there is drunk driving? I tell myself its fine and nod my head.
“Okay fine, just be careful J.”
“I will baby, I love you.”
“I love you too.” he gives me a peck on the lips and I hold onto his hand and let it slide out once he got to far to reach it. I watch him walk out the door and sit back down onto the couch, waiting for his return.
*4 Weeks Later*
Life is unfair. Life is so unfair. Why him? Why Jeff? Why my boyfriend. Such an amazing boyfriend. Is the best. Was the best. I stare down at his tombstone and couldn’t stop my tears from falling. So many tears. I found myself screaming at night. If I wasn’t screaming I was just silent. Completely silent. I mean was there for me to say? He’s gone. Jeff Atkins is gone. Never to hold me again, never to make me feel better, never to get me the flowers, never to throw rocks outside my window. I bend down and touch his stone.
“I-I m-miss you so much” my voice cracks. “Why d-did you h-have to leave m-me?” I start crying harder. This is my first time being at his grave, due to the fear of seeing him. The fear of seeing reality of this situation.
“Y-you would b-be so happy right now” I hiccup as I touch my stomach. I felt the little bump and smile through my tears.
“Y-you would have told him knock knock jokes” I laugh to myself, “or her”.
“Y-you would have t-taught baseball terms” I smile.
“You would h-have been the perfect dad” I cried looking down at him, “the best”.
I put the roses he always got me onto his grave and wiped my tears, even though they kept coming down. I kissed my finger and touched them against his stone that read
World’s greatest son
world’s best companion
Even a better dad
Gone but never forgotten.
“I love you Jeff”I got up and continued crying as both Tony and Clay stood there respectfully and silent, waiting for me to finish. I smile lazily at them and hooked my arm into both of theirs as we walked out of the graveyard. I look back one more time and thought to myself ‘the love of my life might be gone, but he will forever live on in my heart’
A/N - Omgg!! I cried making this ending. It was so sad to me. I hope you guys liked it and love you guys for all your support. Your imagines are not forgotten.
It’s hilarious, laughable, pathetic even, how love could either build you or ruin you and yet knowing this, people still chase after it like the rise of golden light beyond the horizon, or the last drop of dew in twilight, or the flutter of that one coral blue butterflies in buttercup paved meadow.
It’s frightening, daunting, startling even, how love makes your hands clammy like you’re being interviewed by the very man who founded the big shot company you’ve applied to.
And it’s utterly, impossibly, unbelievable how love comes in many ways like a bump and a spill of coffee on crisp white shirt, or a brush of hands upon a dusty leather brown book spine or an envelope obtained from a mailbox on one’s way back from grocery shopping.
Well, that’s exactly what’s happening to Min Yoongi, second son to one of the well-known elite families in Seoul. Most of the time, he couldn’t care less about family matters; business deals, dinner with alien faces and empty conversations─ those things he’s entitled to attend with mildly bored eyes and champagne he’ll never finish in one hand. But this particular matter, he can’t just not care. One, because it directly concerns him (as if the cursive letter of his name engraved in bold black against crisp white isn’t enough indication). Two, because it’s from a certain someone in his family who he’s fond of.
Is written on the top of the not so neat written paper.
I am a transgender man (see photo of my mug for context).
I love all trans people and I love non binary people. But lately some of my trans spaces (both on the web and irl) that are mainly non binary have started to feel a little hostile.
I want to make something perfectly clear before I continue - I love and respect non binary people, I think their genders are valid and I am in no way suggesting they are any less important that myself or any other binary trans person. I also need you to understand that this isn’t meant to be a post calling out non binary people at all, it is just me talking about my personal experiences in the hope that it can get people to be a little more considerate sometimes?
In university spaces, it seems that there is a growing population of non binary people that tends to dominate trans groups. Which is good in lots of ways, especially since it shows how this generation has become much more relaxed and aware that gender is a construct and fluidity is key. However, amongst people I know there is a lot of ‘ew gross men’, or 'ew gross trans men that are masculine’, while at the same time being predominantly DFAB populations.
Now trust me, I very much understand the dislike a lot of dfab trans people have of men. A lot of us are survivors and I think that does play a big part in how we feel about the gender overall. Not to mention it is not uncommon for men to be, for lack of a better word- wankers. However, I don’t think people consider trans men when we are talking about this.
Making a comment like 'ew men are so fucking gross’ to a room of trans people means that to a trans man you are saying one of two things - 1) you are gross, or 2) you aren’t gross because you’re not a Real Man, and you are excluded from this statement because you are and always will be, partly a woman. Even now I feel uncomfortable 'complaining’ about this. I have to remind myself that just as suggesting that a trans woman is somehow different to other women would be considered incredibly offensive, so is it for trans men.
I didn’t realise how much this stuff affected me until it did. Constantly being around people that talk about, how body hair on men is gross, masculinity is by default toxic, making jokes about my masculinity being toxic when I excitedly tell people that I’ve started going to the gym and its making me feel better about my body. No, it’s not funny. It’s MY dysphoria I’m trying to ease. I as a trans person want to feel supported and loved when I do things that have a chance of making me feel good about my body.
It hit me like a brick wall when I realised how much it had affected me. I was with my partner, and was trying to have sex, but I just broke down. I felt so incredibly disgusted with my body and myself. So much hair, so masculine. The noises I made, gross. The way I touched him, creepy. I couldn’t get out of my head the idea that later in life he would talk to people about how gross and unshaven I was, just like I had heard friends describe ex boyfriends so many times before.
I felt cheated because these were the changes I WANTED my body to make. But now they felt ruined. Spoiled.
It was after that realisation that I decided I had to get out. I stopped going to some of student socials and instead started attending a group for older trans people. It was so refreshing to meet other trans men for once (just because I rarely meet them at uni, and it was nice to talk to someone similar.) It was awesome to be around people who weren’t shitty about trans people being stealth (as I remember I once was.)
There are some important things to take away from all of this:
1) Telling trans boys and men that they are disgusting for wanting to be like men will only destroy self esteem and feed into the toxic environment that a lot of cis boys grow up in.
2) Non binary people are extremely valid and awesome, but also must accept they have a responsibility to cultivate a supportive and friendly atmosphere in spaces where they are dominant (I put this in here for university spaces especially)
3) Laughing at a trans man/woman for being excessively masc/fem presenting if you are a dfab nb person who mainly presents as fem or androgynous is facetious and not respecting that they may have to present that way to stay safe, (especially in the case of trans women that may be more 'obviously trans’) and that despite suffering prejudice in many ways, the one thing you are not realistically facing is street violence and such because you inevitably are not going to be clocked as trans. (which yes, does NOT make your transness invalid but we have to respect the different struggles people in our community face.)
4) Someone being stealth does not mean they are adhering to 'toxic gender roles’. It means they are either 1) trying to be safe or 2) surprise surprise they want to live their life as the gender they identify with. Trans people are not less legitimately trans because you think they are 'acting cis’.
5) Being a binary trans person does not give you privilege over nb people. Like seriously, trans women are literally the most likely to be murdered. Don’t be a dick. Erasure is a problem yes but it’s not the same. I read names out at the TDOR vigil and pretty much all of them were trans women of colour. Respect that. Help the community. This isn’t about scoring points over who has it the shittiest.
6) The idea that the only good kinda of trans men are 'soft sensitive kinda trans masc guys that don’t have surgeries and shave all their body hair’ is shitty and offensive (tho that kind of trans man is totally valid, that not what i mean). Its shitty because one you’re sexualising them either as more childlike or more feminine (both is rude, former is creepy), but its perpetuating the idea that trans men aren’t really men and the best ones are the ones that YOU think still kinda look suitably enough like women.
@avengerstories- Thank you for putting up with me for almost a month and listening to me constantly complain about not being able to get this part written. I adore you. Always.
“Bucky wants to talk to you.”
You know that the earth never stops moving; it’s constantly in motion. Constantly making its trip around the sun. But the moment Steve says Bucky’s name, you swear that everything comes to a standstill. It’s the only way to explain how everything around you becomes muted. How you’re seeing Steve as if he were standing on the opposing side of a tunnel and how the pressure of Sam’s arm on your shoulder vanishes.
Over the past twenty-two days, you’ve convinced yourself that the story of you and Bucky was not meant to be. In your mind, he left and closed the door on the potential of there ever being an ending where you and him were together.
You’d been working for the royal family for over a decade now. You knew every nook and cranny—every secret passage and hidden room in that palace. It was practically your home. You took care of it, constantly sweeping and dusting and mopping.
You also took care of Jung Hoseok, the spoiled prince residing in it. You always cleaned his room, washed his clothes and made his meals. But then somewhere in the mess of everything, you began taking care of him in a different way.
You always had a close friendship with the prince but that’s all it was—friendship. Until one day, two years ago, he approached you. That’s when it all began, your secret relationship with the seductive prince.
No one knew about your relationship, everyone always assumed it was purely friendship. No one ever expected the handsome prince to fall for a lowly maid like yourself, which made the relationship all the more perfect, in a sense.
At least twice a week you two would meet up for discreet, eager sex, and today was one of those days.
“Come ride me,” Hoseok demanded sternly, eyes already mentally undressing you. He sat in his gold throne with his crown sitting crookedly on his head. His robe fell around him, engulfing him in a pool of black fur.
inspired by a post sara reblogged (this one, specifically) and the resulting conversation about different love spells, where she suggested i write the fic. i said no, go away, it’s late. then i stayed up and wrote the fic.
This doesn’t make any sense.
Though they’d never admit it—Dean especially would never admit it—they’re practically witches themselves at this point. Sam isn’t deluded enough to think otherwise. He has a fair share of spells up his sleeve that he knows by heart by now, a few more he’s working on remembering, and some he still struggles with the incantation, but at the end of the day they frequently speak Latin and throw herbs into flames, so, logically, they’re witches, or close enough to it.
And it’s because of this (and his own unfortunate experience that no one must ever speak of again, thanks) that Sam knows a love spell when he sees one.
Warnings: angst!, a tiny bit of violence, swear words, alcohol
Summary: Being Bucky’s best friend (after Steve of course) gets a lot of perks - but being in love with him WHILE being his best friend means that your adoration must be kept a secret. That also means you have to silently endure every single encounter with women he has whether he tells you or you see it for yourself.
A/N: So this one shot is based on the Amy Shark song “Adore You” (she speaks to me on so many levels!) and I just really wanted a Bucky fic for it because he’d be absolutely clueless to someone adoring him like this…I also kind of skipped over the “oh look at him I’m in love with him” fluffy stuff and I just focused on the couple of days leading up to the point reader can’t take it anymore. I like the angst - it fuels me *evil laugh*
Y/F/I = Your First Initial
I’m just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm
I’m just gonna walk home kicking stones at parked cars
But I had a great night ‘cause you kept rubbing against my arm
I’m just gonna stand with my bag hanging off my left arm
You hugged Wanda and Nat, giving small waves to the boys, before turning to Bucky.
“Hey B, I’m going to head back to the tower. The mission took a bigger toll on me than I thought.” You made a show of rubbing your neck, hoping the sadness in your eyes would be mistaken for exhaustion.
Bucky turned away from the young, curvy brunette tucked under his arm, his smile fading as his eyes scanned over you with concern. He didn’t move away from her, nor did you move any closer, instead you gripped the strap of your bag hard, until your knuckles were white, in an effort to ignore the pain radiating through your chest.
“Are you sure? Did you want me to come with you?”
You gave serious thought to saying yes, knowing he’d probably give the woman a kiss and get her phone number before following you out of the bar, talking your ear off about how she was this and that. All the while, you would be fighting the anger and nausea bubbling up your throat, fighting back the urge to scream at him to shut up about her and every other woman, just fighting to keep your face neutral as you listened to the love of your life pine after any and every other woman but you.
genre/warnings: fluff/romance/smut, flangst, adorkableness, use of non-penetrative sex toys, (not so) dry humping
feat: Hansol Vernon Chwe/Original Female, Joshua, Jeonghan + various
prompts: roommate!Vernon, silliness, cuddles, mac n’cheese = love
(a/n) my birthday project for my muse. thank you for everything vern:) and kisses for @vernkn who gifed my soft sweater vernon aesthetic. enjoy!
She loved Joshua Hong.
When she was so graciously offered to live in her aunt’s vacation penthouse close to her university of choice, the only catch was that she had to pay some of the bills. Completely fair, because it was a kind enough gesture to give away a freshly furnished space to a niece you barely talked to. Luckily, there was enough room for another guest, enough to split the rent.
So in comes the savior of her life, brother from another mother, Joshua Hong, decked out in sandy beige Sperry’s and ironed white jeans. Fresh from South California, he wore their sunshine on his smile, and their attitude in his Cheshire eyes. He was attending the same university as well, and was conveniently looking for a means to stay. Needless to say, she pounced on him at orientation before he could ask anyone else.
“A Secret That’s Worth It”
Carl x Reader, Negan x Reader
Word Count: 9,670
Negan x Daughter Reader, Carl x Reader
Summary: You’re Negan’s teenage daughter and from the minute you saw Carl, he sparked your interest, leading to a relationship between you two.
Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, mentions of death, kinda smutty
A/N: Does not follow the show exactly, I had to change up some things for the sake of the story, but I tried to make it as close as possible.
He was the first person you noticed when you stepped out of that RV.
He was wearing a flannel and a cowboy hat, and even with one of his eyes covered up and it being dark out, you could see how bright blue they were. You didn’t know his name, but you certainly were attracted to him.
Your father, Negan, had told you to stay inside the RV while he went out there and talked to them. He had told you that he was going to kill one of them and that he didn’t want you to see that, so you needed to stay away.
“Y/N, I do not want to see you out there. Your ass better stay in here, alright?” Negan had warned you. You didn’t listen. You had heard him talking to their group, and you got curious. All you wanted to do was see what they looked like, nothing more. You opened the door slightly and peeked your head out, making the attractive boy turn his head and look at you. They all did, but he was the only one you noticed.
“Dear daughter, did I not tell you to stay inside?” Negan bellowed. You knew he was trying to scare the group- that was his way of being a big, bad leader. He intimidates everyone. And by the look of everyone’s face, they were definitely afraid.
plot: zach decides to (nervously) confront you after finding out you’re the one slipping compliments in his bag
a/n: i Cannot believe a 2nd part was requested i cant believe you guys enjoyed the first part and sent me messages!! i wasn’t planning on writing this but here she is since y’all are cute as heck
Thursday night found Zach Dempsey sprawled
on his bed.
A week worth of complimentary notes was at
the foot of the bed. Some were folded, some all the way open but none of them were in their original, pristine state. They were crumpled, thing that probably happened
whenever the boy stuffed them in his pockets.
*swamped with homework and feelings and managed to shell this out a month late…I’m a mess™*
Hii can i have a drabble thingy game with jimin?TY😙😉 12,23 by
Word Count: 8.6k
He’s a literal angel
You were immersed in a deep
sleep, tired from working on a large project that was worth half your grade. In
you attempt to disconnect from the world around and sleep peacefully, you
blocked out the sounds and all touch with reality. The sudden dip in your bed
didn’t bother you, the presence of another body and an arm haphazardly wrapping
around you, these were things you were blocking out. Until you felt a finger on
“I hate you.”
“You know you love me.”
“Kiss my ass, Jimin.” You used
to think you were lucky to be paired up with your best friend in the dorms of
your university. Until you realized he was a clingy, sassy and messy guy that
never failed to annoy you. His leisure attitude towards school was opposite to
your dedication to reading every word of your textbook. He was a jock, baseball
being the reason he was here in your room and cheekily smiling at you.
“I wouldn’t mind doing that.”
You whacked him in the face with your pillow, wanting him to leave your room
but he instead pulled you closer against his chest.
“Let go of me, you pervert.”
“You told me to kiss your ass,
“I swear to god, Jimin, I’ll
suffocate you in your sleep.”
Jughead x Reader No one asked for this, but I’ve had this idea in my head for ages so thought it was finally time to let it out into the world. Prompt: Y/N and Jughead work at Pop’s together. Cheryl winds up Y/N which leads to a heated moment between Jughead and Y/N. Warnings: Strong smut themes
“You know you don’t have to stay with me” you smile, setting down the waitress pad on the kitchen counter next to you. You lean your hip on the counter as you stare at Jughead, an apron still tied around his waist. Since the Drive-In closes Pop’s offered Jughead a job here, just a couple of nights a week, the odd weekend. He spend half of his life here anyway, Pop’s just thought he might as well make some money at the same time.
You had been working at Pop’s for around a year now. You were the one who trained Jughead, not that the place was complicated at all. He’d even started to cook some of the food, helping out the chefs from time to time, like tonight, he was covering for the Thursday night chef. “And what would you do if you got a order in?” he asks, raising his eyes in a cocky manner towards you, setting down a spatula on the counter next to you. “I’m sure I can manage to flip a burger and cook a few fries” you smirk back, laughing at his confidence. When Jughead joined it was the first time you had ever spoken to each other. Sure, you had seen him around school, hanging with Archie Andrews and Betty Copper, but the two of you had never needed to speak to each other, or even acknowledge each others existence until a couple of weeks ago. Since then the two of you had create a little friendship based on flirty jokes which the both of you knew meant absolutely nothing. “Are you calling my job easy?” He smirks back, taking a step closer to me. He stops at the counter, leaning himself against it as he looks down at me. “I’m saying you shouldn’t underestimate me” I say with a wink, making him smirk even more. His head so close to mine as a piece of dark hair falls into his eyes, shading his already dark eyes.
“Anyway” I sigh, breaking away from the eye contact that neither of us seemed to break. “I was just thinking of you getting home. Won’t Archie and his dad be worried about you? Seeing as you were so careless not to tell them where you were” you tease him. He sighs as he takes a step back from the counter which he was still leaning against. “Trust me, I think they’ll be fine. Fred is working late and Archie has Veronica round, so don’t think they’ll want disturbing for a while now” he rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner.
It’s at that moment you hear the bell on the door ring, indicating you finally had customers. You walk out to see Cheryl and her minions sat in the booth closest to the kitchen you had just walked out of. You roll your eyes discretely at the sight of them, hoping they hadn’t seen. Placing a fake smile on your face you walk over. “Hi” you smile politely, pulling out the pen you had balanced behind your ear. “Look who it is girls” Cheryl gives an unfriendly smirk in your direction as the other two girls look over and start giggling. You look confused for a moment before choosing to ignore them. You tried to ignore the rumours and crap Cheryl often spread around so often. They usually were false, malicious attempts to hurt someone for no reason other then her boredom. “What can I get you?” “Tell me, Y/N” Cheryl says, folding her arms as an evil smile spreads across her face like a disease. “What was he like?” “What was who like?” you ask, drawn into her comments just like she wanted. “Moose?” “What are you talking about?” “Oh come on Y/N. Everyone knows he took your virginity last night. He’s telling anyone and everyone” she smirks, the other girls laughing. “That’s… that’s a lie” you stutter. “Right” they laugh like a pack of hyenas, you their new prey. “Excuse me” you take a sharp intake of breath before walking back into the kitchen. Throwing your waitress pad back down on the counter as hard as possible, feeling more angry then anything.
“Wow. Y/N what’s wrong?” Jughead asks, his eyes wide from shock at your act. “Just get rid of them please” you say through gritted teeth, pointing out the door to the restaurant. “One second” he say, touching your arm gently as he walks out the door to the booth. You hear a mumbling sound before the bell rings on the door and the door slams shut behind them. Jughead cautiously walks back into the kitchen where you were still stood.
“Do you want to tell me what that was all about?” He asks confused, trying not to push too hard as your anger was clear. “No.” you sigh, breathing deeply. Completely in shock of the moment. Why would they say that? Why would they think you and Moose even slept together in the first place? Unless… Unless Moose said it himself? “That asshole!” you say to yourself through gritted teeth. You turn to faced Jughead who is still staring at you confused. “Moose is spreading a rumour that he took my virginity” “Your a virgin?” Jughead jokes, giving a confused look. “Now is not the time Jug”“ "Sorry. Sorry” he apologises honestly, holding up his hands as if to surrender. “Why would he do that?” he asks, finally walking forward so he was leaning on the counter in front of you. It was only a small kitchen so as the two of us stand there out feet practically touch. “The idiot asked me out the other day. After everyone found out he was at Sweet-water with Kevin I guess he wanted to make people think that he wasn’t gay. I said no. He’s not my type anyway. The asshole must have got worried about his ego and made up some story about us going out. Which of course involved him taking my virginity” you sigh, tipping your head back too look at the bright lights on the ceiling. “I’m sorry Y/N” he sighs, reaching over to hold you arm to console you. “I can’t believe this. No way in a million years would I give my virginity to a jock, last of all Moose” you say with a small laugh, trying to calm yourself down, a little part of your blood still boiling as you think of all the shit you will have to deal with tomorrow. “I can’t believe your still a virgin” he laughs. “Ugh.” you groan, feeling the need to explode. “I really can’t. Y/N your amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have yo-”
“No one seems to get me though Jug. Whenever you tell people it’ll be your first time they always tell you they’ll go slow with you. That your first time is special.” you blurt, taking a step forward due to this sudden wave of anger. “Well how can it be special if it’s just some awkward fumble on a guys couch or in the back of their car. Where’s the heat in that? People think they’re being so romantic in ‘I’ll take it slow with you’ but its not! I want the heat. I want the passion. That’s romantic. No one seem’s to get that.”
Jughead just stand there staring at you, looking you up and down as if tying to take in everything your saying. “Even if my first time if with some stranger. Or it’s just a pointless one night stand. As long as it is not this typical teen fantasy of first times, I’ll be happy. I just want that fire, you know?” you look at him. His eyes suddenly darker then usual. “Got it” he smirks, suddenly stepping closer to you, placing his arms under your legs and pushing you onto the kitchen counter behind you. Your head gently knocks the cupboard above the counter as suddenly his lips attach to yours. The breath is knocked out of you as you take in what is happening. His lips work desperately on yours, sucking on your lower lip as his hand cups the back of your neck, the other still placed on your leg, holding you tightly. You moan into the kiss, glad there were no customers tonight to hear the two of you. His lips start to roam down your face to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. “Jughead…” you say breathlessly, part of you wanting to ask what was happening, the other part wanting to see what happened next. You let out a loud moan as he begins to suck on a spot on your neck, sure to leave a mark later. Your hands roam to his head, pushing your hands through his already messy hair, pulling him closer so he smirks against your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist, bringing him in. Your hands pull on his hair as you roll your hips against his, making him moan just as loud. Quickly his lips press against yours again as his hands roam down to the bottom of your black work t-shirt, pulling desperately on it. You pull your lips away from his and lift your arms as he pulls your shirt over your head, tossing it away on the floor, his lips immediately attaching back on your neck as he roams lower, biting lightly on your shoulder. Your hands finger the bottom of his shirt as you lift it up over his head. His lips begin to roam lower then your shoulder, biting and sucking on parts of your skin. Your head falls back on the cupboard counter as his hand begins to roam up the inside of your thigh. You moan again as he bites a sensitive spot, his hand sliding further up your thigh. You hear him smirk against your skin as you moan, cocky with how he was giving you everything you craved. “Shut it Jones” you say breathlessly as one hand slides down his back, the other going to his hair as you pull his head up to meet your, your lips crashing together again in a rush. Finally Jughead’s hand slips to the waistband of your jeans…
“Jughead. Y/N. I’m back” Pop’s shouts as he enters the diner.
He’s reading as she flits around the room getting ready for bed, he hasn’t read in a long time and is determined to get most of it read tonight, back propped up a bit as his long legs are spread across the mattress. He pays her no mind as she buzzes around the room, gaze not leaving the page as she crawls into bed next to him. He’s completely immersed in the words till she begins unbuttoning his shirt just a bit more.
She had gotten bored cuddled next to him moving instead to lay between his legs her elbows resting carefully on his hips while slender fingers trace over the two little birds. She’s not doing it for attention it’s just something she likes to do, trace them, his tattoos running her finger along the lines trying to feel a difference that isn’t there. He sneaks a glance looking to her face under the book, she’s not smiling or frowning her cheek smushed a bit as she rests her head in her free hand, she looks content it makes Harry feel funny he likes this just being in each other’s company not needing anything more than the comforts of each other’s presence … little does he know …
He returns to the words hand faltering as he turns the page, her nimble fingers cold against his stomach as she unbuttons the rest pushing it away with featherlight touches, she’s going for the butterfly, it’s her favorite one, she’s told him plenty of times before, that and the ferns she especially likes to trace with both hands mirroring the movements of one with the other across the identical ink.
She starts with the antenna to the right tracing the outing ending with the left antenna before running her fingers along the details of the middle. She too caught up with her tracing she doesn’t notice him setting down the book after dog earring the page, keeping his hands at his sides, it’s not hard just letting her do her thing biting at his plush bottom lip watching her touch him like he was some kinda work of art. She traced a finger down dragging it in a lazy circle around his belly bottom before weaving it through the course hairs crowing his boxers. His breathing has picked up a bit, something about the moment making his head swirl and blood begin to relocate.
She doesn’t know what she’s doing to him, starting at the rightmost part of the tattoo and tracing to the left, she feels it then as she shifts to have better access to the other branch, his growing cock, it’s been getting heavy and full with her touching, his lip is abused as he bites it to hold back the sounds. At the first feel she looks up at him shyly, “What’re yeh doin’ hmm?”
She looks back to where her finger is just starting the final tattoo, “I’m just touching you" she responds as her finger begins to move again. He doesn’t respond right away, letting her almost finish,
He’s carefully balancing the sandwiches and the two biggest tupperware containers he could find that both had functioning lids when the front door opens and he almost drops everything right there in front of the stupid fountain.
If that’s Derek Hale, he’s definitely not a mountain man.
Everything changes when Derek goes under while surfing, hits his head on a board, and sees a man with a tail swimming away. He wants to know who that was, and what it has to do with Beacon Hills, the one place he never meant to come back to.
Summary: Professor Stilinski is definitely not expecting to
see his favorite porn star among the students of his Human Sexuality class.
Notes: Inspired by this ask. I don’t do power imbalance, so
nothing happens until Derek is out of Stiles’ class. Also, while there are
mentions of porn, there is no actual smut in this. Sorry. (On AO3)
When Stiles pushes open the doors to the lecture hall, it’s
completely empty. He blinks down at his watch in surprise, and realizes he made
the walk across campus faster than he realized. There’s always an adjustment
period at the beginning of every semester, where he figures out where his
classrooms are and how long it’ll take to get there.
Well, he might as well utilize this time, then. He sits at
the desk at the front of the room, and gets back to writing his proposal for a
class on the influence of society on gender.
He gradually hears students come in as he works, but he
keeps focused, because he knows he has at least another ten minutes before
But when he hears a student ask, “Hey, are you the
professor?” he has to look up, and he begins to wish he’d done it a lot sooner.
The freshman orientation guide was very, Very clear about this point. Absolutely, positively, no pets allowed. (minor exceptions to be made for service animals.) And yet here she was, 3 weeks into her first semester, sitting on the ground, staring at a cat. It was staring back.
Dread had always been fond of animals. She had never been allowed to have any pets, (her father was allergic to most things with fur, and her mother just hated animals) but she had always wanted a cat. Multiple cats, preferably. And now she was sitting on the steps of her dorm, in a college where No Pets Were Allowed, staring at the most precious little ball of fur she had ever set eyes on. She knew far too well about the other rules (she was on her second roommate, now, and the delicate horns curling from the thing-that-was-not-her-first-roommate’s face had left an… impression.) She was very good about remembering iron, salt, and not to say please or thank you. But this was a very cute cat, and she was willing to risk a little bit.
It meowed. She held out a hand, and it walked right up to her, and “oh my goodness you are just the cutest thing!” she squeaked. The cat seemed satisfied.
She was, to say the least, conflicted. The rules were very clear, and the rules were generally right, but this was a very small cat, and she did not have very many friends, and really, she already knew what she would do. “C’mere, you.” She scooped up the cat and it snuggled into her jacket. “I’m going to name you Eldritch.”
It was about three weeks later that things got… actively weird. She had managed to smuggle in, via the Walmart (which had no employees that day, she left the money on the counter and hoped that nothing Else would take it) a litter box and cat food. Eldritch seemed to settle in fine, and she traded her roommate 3 dollars and a cool rock in return for not telling anyone about the very, very illegal pet currently snoozing on her lap. The roommate, whose name was Chalkboard, seemed to like the cat. Chalkboard even gave the cat a cat-toy. When Chalkboard vanished (decided to take the “fake your death to avoid breaking up with your s.o” advice a little too much to heart), Not-Chalkboard did Not like the cat. Dread caught Not-Chalkboard making what looked like a very rude hand gesture at the cat on multiple occasions, although it’s hands were strange and it was hard to be sure. It was when Not-Chalkboard, after having a Very Intense staring contest with the cat for about 6 minutes, saw the error of its ways and vanished, leaving Chalkboard in its place, that Dread began to think something might be up. Eldritch said nothing, as cats are wont to do, but it purred a great deal when Chalkboard let it sit on her lap while she was doing her homework. This was, to say the least, Rather Suspect. Nothing more was said about it.
Summary: When your boyfriend cheats on you you’re left heartbroken and lost all hope in relationships. Santa says you’ll find love soon, but what do you do when you’re beloved cat turns into a beautiful grown man?
Dex slams the door shut and presses against the wood, leaning his head back and sucking in a deep breath. He stares blindly up at the ceiling and–
“Nurse, I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in the room. Not counting me.” Lardo pretends to flip a lock of hair over her shoulder. “We all know I’d smoke you bitches,” she adds, grinning. Her teeth flash in the low lighting, and she knocks back the last of her drink as the gather group lets out joking boos.
They all “ooh” at Nursey as he raises a challenging eyebrow and smirks at Lardo. He makes a show of looking around the room, leering slightly at the other players of spin the bottle – Holster, Dex, Tango, Ollie, Wicks, and a few members of the volleyball and soccer teams. Bitty is grinning from his spot on the floor next to Lardo and Dex, watching as Nursey catches the eye of each person.
“Dex!” The memory is abruptly interrupted as Chowder’s voice comes from beyond the door. “Come on, man!” Dex tries to straighten up, but his legs refuse to work. He sinks down to the floor, back still pressed against the door, trying to suck in deep breaths of air. He drops his head between his knees, squeezing his eyes shut and–