he was the nicest man ever

An AU where Bitty didn’t go to Samwell and instead started working at a bakery in Providence. The bakery is around the same neighbourhood where Tater lives.

Tater starts frequenting the place and soon enough, you guessed it. Bitty and Tater become friends.

The best of friends. The ride or die friends. The I’d hide a body with you friend. But also the how many skittles can you fit in your mouth? Friend.

Tater starts a lot of his stories with ‘B and I…’ ‘Took B to’ 'B is’ etc and everybody starts assuming that B is Tater’s girlfriend, until he brings him for a game.

Everybody sort of goes 'oooooh’ and assumes this is Tater coming out and bringing his boyfriend to meet them. And if you think about it, it sort of explains Tater calling him B.

Then Tater comes super excited one day. 'B will move with me!’ And they all congratulate him and everything, thinking it’s so nice that Tater and Bitty’s relationship is going well, while actually Tater has been nagging Bitty to move in so he can have access to pie 24/7.

But also because Bitty is his best friend and since he bought his apartment he has been feeling a little lonely, this is the reason that does convince Bitty to move in because he has been feeling a little lonely too.

Fast forward a year, Jack graduates and joins the team. By this point Bitty is a regular at the games, he is a very in demand babysitter and makes a lot of food for the players.

Before he starts, Guy and Marty take the time to feel him out and explain that Tater has a boyfriend, and that they will have nothing but acceptance in their locker room.

They do this after asking Tater if it was ok to tell Jack about Bitty.

'No problem!’ Tater replies happily 'But B so good he need no introduction.’

Jack is pleased by this of course, and happy he is in a welcoming team.

Then Jack meets Bitty.

And to make it better, let’s say he meets him when he is carrying a bunch of stuff for the nook.

'You should eat more protein,’ Jack jokes after seeing all the pies, and offers a hand to carry things.

Bitty jokes/flirts back. They are having a moment, Jack feels butterflies in his stomach and well, if the team is ok with Tater, surely they’d be ok with him…

'B! You made it!’ Tater bellows from down the hallways and rushes over, picking Bitty and putting him in a bear hug. 'I miss you.’

'Tater!’ Bitty yells laughing, and kisses his cheek playfully, 'you saw me this morning.’

'Yeah but you sleepy, you grumpy when sleepy. Like tiny bear.’

And then Bitty and Tater start to bicker like an old married couple. This whole time Tater is holding Bitty up.

Jack stomach drops to his feet, because of course Bitty is taken. By his teammate.

Jack develops a crush, a massive problematic crush because holy fuck Tater is the nicest person ever, and he would never want to get in between him and his boyfriend, but also he is terrified of Tater finding out because he once took two defence man by himself and won.

Meanwhile, at Bitty and Tater’s home, Bitty flings himself dramatically over the counter.

'Tater! I’m in love. Jack is so cute and nice, I like him so much.’

'Jack nice guy, he good guy for you. I approve,’ Tater says solemnly with a mouth full of pie.

'Say it don’t spray it,’ Bitty asks for the millionth time. 'Do you know if he likes guys?’

And then Tater being the good friend he is, tries to feel Jack out and play matchmaker, while an increasingly alarmed Jack thinks Tater is warning him off about crushing on Bitty.

Which isn’t helped by the fact Bitty keeps popping up to chirp him, which kind of feels like flirting but surely not…

Things get clarified and everything, Jack and Bitty start dating, and Tater has to explain 8 times to everybody that no, he never dated Bitty.

'We kissed once. We agree weird. We best as best friends,’ Tater says once again.

'Yeah but if he was going to date somebody other than you why couldn’t it be me?’ Poots complains loudly.

'You no good enough for B,’ Tater chirps back. 'I only let B date good teammate who didn’t eat my pie.’

'Will you let that go man!? I didn’t know it was yours.’

'It had sticky paper with Tater on it! You don’t fool me Poot, you food thief!’


Handyman (m)

Word count: 9.4k

Genre/Warnings: smut, angst, sub!Jimin, dirty talk

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Summary: Jimin is your landlord’s son. After one stressful day he comes to fix your shower for you. You find yourself constantly thinking about him. Could he be the perfect submissive? (here’s some lovely Jimin moans for the occasion: credit to owner)

I’ve been working on this for forever so i’m excited about it! :)

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types of panic fans

the casual fan: listens to panic for fun sometimes if they feel like it. only knows songs from doab and the singles from the other albums

the ryan stan: br*nd*n ur*e killed their crops and burned their village. worships afycso and the rose vest. willing to fight the urie man for even having the thought of playing songs that ryan wrote live. has or plans to get at least one tattoo of his lyrics. lives for those edits where its his livejournal entries. their life mission is to get ryan the credit he deserves. also has a ryan ross hands kink

the brendon stan: brendon urie has done nothing wrong ever. he is the nicest, kindest, most beautiful human being to ever exist. lives for his high notes. would die for him. worships sarah. did i mention how beautiful brendon urie is and how proud i am of him can u believe he made doab all by himself wow

the ryden truther: ryden was 708% real. has read every ryden theory masterpost. has probably written at least one ryden theory post. every song is about ryan ross if you try hard enough. pretty odd is the best panic album. cries at every minor ryan/brendon interaction. everything that brendon does somehow relates back to the fact that he’s still bitter and sad about ryan. quotes throam almost daily. is rereading throam right now

the dallon stan: vices and virtues is a masterpiece. probably ships brallon. tags every picture of dallon with a keysmash. screams a lot. would kill to see a brobecks show. really only goes to panic shows to see dallon. strives to reach dallon’s level of dadness. here for dallon’s idkhbtfm project. is just here to have a good time

the “emo trinity” fan: obsessively listens to fall out boy and my chemical romance along with panic. probably also likes twenty one pilots, halsey, and/or melanie martinez. they like panic just as much as the other bands in the “trinity”. wants panic to tour with fob/21p. probably ships peterick/joshler/frerard


One thing about the company Roosterteeth that makes me super happy is the diverstiy in body image throughout their casts and crew. And nobody is shamed or looked down on for not being society’s idea of normal.

You’ve got people like Blaine, Aaron, James, Bruce, and Alan who are all in really good condition, physically fit, and workout often. And then you have the guys and gals who have recently started to improve themselves like Michael, Ryan, Meg, Josh, and Zach. And nobody told them to do it, they did it for themselves. Burnie talked a lot about his process to lose weight,and did a damn good job of it. Look at him five or six years ago as opposed to now. Goddamn. Hell, three of the five I’ve mentioned made a show about it, and happily encourage others advice and support if the community wants to work alongside them.

Not all of Roosterteeth is fit though. Obviously, not everyone wants to be super toned, drink protein and watch their carb intake. (Not that any of that is bad, I do it myself.) There’s a huge array of body types at RT. Many of them are happy with who they are, comfortable in their own bodies, and are proud of themselves. Sure, Jack gets lots of shit for his weight, but he takes it stride, and laughs and jokes about it himself. That man is the living embodiment of sunshine, large or not. Don’t forget Lindsay, who takes more than her fair share of insults about her weight and looks. But she’s one of the nicest and happiest people I’ve ever seen in camera. And as I mentioned before, Zach Anner, a disabled man has incredible self worth. Incredible. He takes his disability in stride. And still seeks to improve himself.

Nobody at RT is the same. Every single person is unique. Several of the people at RT have awesome hair colors, tattoos (looking at you Geoff), or differing seuxalities than their peers. And they’ve never shown anything but support for their fanbase regarding those things.

Got tattoos? Great. No tattoos? Awesome. Red hair? Green hair? Pink Hair? No hair? Perfect, get to work. Like girls? Boys? Both? None? Cool, come watch this new video we put out. Thin? Not thin? Muscular? Come help set up this new stunt that Blaine’s gonna get naked in.

Nobody is made fun of because of their weight, ability to workout, or lack thereof, hair color, or sexuality. At the company or in in the community. Are there people in the community that are assholes? Absolutely. But these people I watch nearly every day of my life have taught me a lesson. You can look however you want. Be whomever you want. And be happy with yourself.

And I have to thank the Roosterteeth company for teaching me not to hate the fact that I’m not perfect. That with a little bit of work, I can be who I want to be, or just even just be me.

Dating Newt Scamander Would Include...

Originally posted by ameliawilliams

I felt like I needed to get something up today so here is my own “Dating Newt Scamander Would Include” thing 

Warning:  I’m 80% sure these suck

  • Him being the little spoon
  • You being the little spoon when Newt needs a ‘teddy bear’
  • Newt being a surprisingly good cook
  • You becoming the fathers to Newt’s creatures because he had already deemed himself the mummy
  • You teasing Newt for it
  • Newt’s older brother Theseus flirting with you and making Newt insecure
  • You French kissing Newt and letting him know he’s the only man for you
  • Your parents being a bit concerned with all the creatures at first
  • But soon see how much you and Newt love each other
  • Them treating Newt like a son
  • Newt’s parents being thrilled their son had found someone
  • Them being two of the nicest people you have ever met
  • Baby pictures and funny stories of little Newt
  • “Aww you were so cute!”
  • “Am I not cute anymore???” (He was genuinely concerned)
  • “More like sexy.”
  • That really turning Newt on
  • Newt having a habit of hugging you from behind when you’re in the middle of doing something
  • “Newwwt!  My bottle of ink!”
  • “The glass!”
  • “Ouch!  I burned myself on the stove!”
  • “My book!”
  • But you secretly love it when he does that
  • You two spending hours cuddling and enjoying each others company
  • You stealing Newt’s blue coat when you’re cold
  • One time you spent an hour staring at Newt trying to determine if his eyes were blue or green
  • “What on Earth are you doing?”
  • “Trying to figure out if your eyes are sea foam green or cerulean.”
  • “…”
  • You having Newt read new parts of his book to you in bed every night
  • You and Newt honestly being the cutest couple in New York
  • Newt growing really fond of the feeling of you running your fingers through his hair
  • Newt taking you on all his trips with him because one time he left without you and realized that he literally couldn’t survive without you
  • Newt giving you forehead kisses
  • Even if you’re just passing each other in a hallway
  • Having to levitate Newt out of the case when he falls asleep down there
  • The Niffler occasionally escaping from the case and trying to snuggle in bed with you both
  • Newt getting protective
  • “You little bugger!  Have to take everything golden from me, don’t you?”
  • Blushing when he calls you ‘golden’
  • Hugs can last anywhere from five seconds to five minutes
  • Asking Newt why you can’t have a dog but can have potentially lethal beasts in the house
  • “Dogs are a lot of work.”
  • “Newt.” *points around to all the creatures and beasts*
  • “Oh.  Uh.”
  • Newt eventually giving in and lets you get a dog
  • You name him Jacob

Please let me know what you thought of it and what I could do better next time!

In the Heart of the Storm (Part 9)

Bucky x Reader

Summary – You are house-sitting for some friends on the Chesapeake Bay in the middle of a hurricane. Unbeknownst to you, you’re not alone. Takes place immediately following the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 

Warnings – None

Word Count – 1,543

Notes – And so begins the slow burn!  I would be lying if I said I didn’t like torturing you this way. What can I say?  I love the anticipation a good slow burn brings.  As always, I appreciate all of your feedback and questions!!!

Part 1  

Series Masterlist



The longer you lay there, the more surreal this all became. As a teenager, you’d dreamed of meeting Bucky Barnes, of being his best girl.  You’d always wondered what it would feel like to be held in his arms, to be able to run you hands through his hair, to have him kiss you.  Right now, you were actually living out two of those scenarios and you were close enough to lean down and finish your girlish fantasy. Just the thought of his lips on yours, his hands gently cupping the back of your head as he pulled you closer to him, had desire flooding through you.

“Your heart is racing again,” he mumbled against your chest.

Your hand immediately stilled as his head shifted and a pair of mischievous blue-grey eyes peeked up at you.


His hands left your shoulders as he placed them flat against the mattress to brace himself as he rose up to better look you in the eye.  Your hands dropped to your side and you could feel your heart beating harder and faster than it had before.  You immediately missed the feeling of having him wrapped around you.  He had a devious little smirk on his face that let you know he’d figured out your secret.

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Faithfully (Bucky Rockstar AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky, OC Ava Barnes, Steve, Clint, Tony, Wanda.

Summary: Being on the road with your rockstar husband had it’s challenges. What if you found out he was unfaithful? (Avengers AU)

Warnings: babies, pregnancy, possible cheating, tiny bit of language, sex mentions, drinking, nudity, bit of angst, mostly fluff. 

Word Count: 3k (including lyrics)

Song Inspiration: Faithfully by Journey

Tags are at the bottom

A/N: Oof. This idea struck me like lightning. I’ve been working on another fic but felt a little stuck. This one flowed out of me in the space of a few hours. I freaking love Journey and this story! I’ve sacrificed quite a bit of sleep to finish, so I hope it was worth it!! Please let me know your thoughts! Love you guys!! :)



Originally posted by veronikaphoenix

Brushing your fingertip over perfect round cheeks while marveling at gorgeous long lashes and her tiny pout, you fell in love all over again. This little person had your heart. Well. A good portion of it. Speaking of your heart…

You heard rustling in the next “room” followed by the partition sliding aside. Bucky stumbled out of the bedroom, rubbing a hand over his face. His chin-length hair stuck out in ten different directions and he was clad in only a pair of boxers.

“Morning, handsome,” you greeted him with an amused smile.

He let out a groan, “What time is it?”

“Almost noon.”

“And…where are we?”

You chuckled, “Somewhere in the midwest, I think. St. Louis, maybe?”

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wanderlust (teaser)

my exams are getting in the way of me writing this, so i thought i’d share a teaser! 

jungkook x reader | pilot!au x reader!cbp (customs & border protection) agent

genre: fluff, angst (for like 5 seconds), smut  

For those who don’t know what a ‘customs & border protection agent’ is, they’re the person that interrogate what your purpose of visit to a country is & stamp your passport to let you into the country. 

For those who don’t already know this a work of complete fiction.

“Next,” I called for what seemed like the billionth time of the day. I had only started working three hours ago but it still felt way too long. Working at an airport was draining. The worst part is that most passengers don’t understand that as a customs and border protection agent I had to see at least 500 people a day and be alert throughout my questioning to catch lies woven into well-rehearsed stories. Today, however, I had lucked out and been given the simple assignment of speaking to exclusively the crew from various airlines. This was the most relaxing posting as the crew did not ask senseless questions, had no other purpose to visit the country except for work. They simply wanted to leave the vicinity as quickly as possible to get away from the passengers they had spent hours caring after.  

I furrowed my brows as an unfamiliar but animated voices fell upon my ears. I glanced towards the origin of the voices and the elegant light blue and white uniforms of the Korean Air crew glided towards my counter. My eyes gazed upon the flawlessness of their physical appearing commending their graceful strides regardless of the 6-inch heels each flight attendant wore. I could barely walk in 2-inch heels. Glancing towards my coworkers, I couldn’t help but notice the lust taking over their features as they gazed at the flight attendants, eager to assist the females in possibly anything they asked of.

This scenario played out everyday and even though I was the agent that cleared the crew, the other agents would ‘help out’ anyway. I pursed my lips as the flight attendants part ways to let the pilots come to my counter first. I supposed this was a sign of respect for their authority or for their age. As I processed the three elderly pilots I noticed one of the pilots stand back and let the flight attendants be cleared first. He stood at the back watching the interaction between the customs agents and the flight attendants with an unnerving gaze, scrutinizing for any disrespectfulness towards his crew members. I felt a chill run down my spine as his gaze settled on me. However, the iciness melted away immediately as his orbs met mine. His mouth tipped into a small smile as he strode towards me and took off his peaked cap.

“Good morning ma’am,” He said, standing expressionless for me to compare his passport picture to his face. I couldn’t help but bite my lip at his young face in the picture. 1997-09-01… he’s younger than me and he’s already a pilot?! As I scanned his passport, I noticed his expression relax and his mouth tipping into his small smile again.

 “Is this your first time coming to Canada?” I asked, weakly attempting hide the amusement from my voice.

“No ma’am, why do you ask?” He asked, tilted his head in confusion.

“Because you’re very polite to a customs agent for this to not have been your first time.” I joked, biting my lip as I scribbled on his customs form. He let out a soft chuckle and shook his head.

“No, I’ve been here many times. Toronto, Calgary, Vancouver and Ottawa. How could I possibly not be polite to a beautiful agent such as yourself.” He said, shaking his head, his baby smile had matured into a dazzling grin. I laughed at his compliment.

“It’s the bulletproof vest, it really brings out my femininity.” I teased, extending my arm to return his documents to him. The young pilot reached forward and grasped my hand instead of his passport and observed my features, examining my reaction.

“I’m quite positive you look impressive even without the bulletproof vest, it certainly would bring out some admirable attributes.” The pilot said, his hand released my hand and grasped his documents.

Oh my god, that is the nicest way any man has ever told me that he wants to look at my breasts.

 “I don’t know about impressive, but I can look pretty decent in a dress.” I replied causing his head to tilt again, his eyes narrowing as if he was imagining it as we spoke.

“Impressive,” he said, affirming his previous statement. I mentally shook myself as my cheeks flushed at his charisma. 

“Have a good day,” I said distantly, releasing his documents. His mouth curved into a delicious smirk as he placed his peaked cap back on his head.

“It would be a better day if I got to spend it with you,” he mused, gathering his documents and placing them in his carry-on.

“Shame, I’ll be here all day.” I responded shaking my head at his bold attempt to seek my company.

“Till what time exactly?” He asked, adjust his already perfect suit in a weak endeavor to delay his departure. 

“Around four pm.” I said, my fingers laced together on the desk as I pursed my lips. An emotionless expression spread across my face as he grinned at me. I struggled to keep my expression professional as he nodded at me.

“It really is a shame,” he subtly winked at me as he disappeared through the exit.


Originally posted by sugutie

White Houses

“What?” Jughead just stared at the beautiful blonde, her eyes sad but excited. He was still sleeping, that had to be it. This was all a dream.

“I’m running away.” She repeated, her soft voice breaking him from his thoughts, she allowed herself a minute to smile at his absolutely awestruck stare “I mean it’s not gonna be for forever, just the summer. You’re the only person I’m telling this too, I trust you Juggie, I know you won’t tell anyone. Not even Archie.” She warned gently, her eyes scanning his face for any sign of a reaction. “Juggie?” She whispered.

Suddenly he realized exactly what was going on, she was leaving. She was leaving him. On her own? All on her own out in the real world? Sure Riverdale was scary but outside of their tiny town? It was dangerous.

“Where are you going to go? Where are you planning on staying? You’re mom is gonna lose her mind! When are you going?” He rushed out, desperate to know her entire plan.

She waited for him to finish, watched him take a breath before she began answering his questions.

“I’m going to North Carolina. My uncle Chick, he has a summer house down there, no ones using it this summer. he promised not to tell my mother, I’m gonna have the whole place to myself. Oh Juggie it’s right on the lake, it’s so beautiful. As for my mom, she won’t know. I’ll leave a note telling her I’m okay and not to look for me but after that? It’s up to her how she handles it. I…I…” she moved to stand right in front of the skittish boy, resting a hand on his chest. “I have to do this Juggie. I…I need this.” Her eyes were filled with unshed tears and she was smiling at Jughead with such hope, he was rendered speechless. He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and sighed softly into her hair.

“When do you leave? I’d like to be there to see you off atleast.” He answered her, his brain churning.

“Tommorow morning, after mom leaves for work. Bright and early.” She smiled at her own plan.

Jughead grabbed her hand pulling her along.
“Alright then let me treat you to your last pops milkshake for a while.” Betty giggled but followed anyway.

The night passed in a blur for Jughead, he hadn’t slept all night, too busy planning. Betty hadn’t slept either, the nerves and excitement getting to her. Sure enough, at exactly 8:02, she heard her mothers engine start and the car pull out of the driveway. She didn’t have time to waste. Pulling her bags behind her, she raced down the stairs, quickly opening and shutting the front door. She took a sad moment to stare at the house that haunted her so much, she would miss it, it wouldn’t be for long but it seemed to be all she knew, the pain that house held. Waving at the big White House, she took a deep Breath and turned around.

What the hell?

Standing there, leaning against her car were her best friends, suitcases packed and sweatpants on. Veronica stepped forward first

“Road trips are so in this season, give me those keys girls we need to start loading this car.”
Betty just stared, handing her the keys in a daze. Kevin dragged Cheryl along with him,

“we want the back seats, we need our beauty sleep. This timing is unbearable.” He yawned, winking at Betty, Cheryl moved to stand beside her “I need this too Betty, thanks for letting me come, I know we haven’t been best friends, but it means something to me.” She patted her on the shoulder delicately, walking away. Archie moved to her grabbing her in a bear hug and whispering in her ear

“We’re all here for you, no matter what goes down, you’re not going through it alone.” He then called to Ronnie “no! You’re gonna crush my guitar!” Sprinting to the trunk of her mini van.

Finally she spotted the familiar beanie as it walked towards to her

“Don’t be angry.” He started.

Betty tried to dim her smile “Jughead” she whispered.

He was scratching the back of his neck “I’m sorry, I know this is awful, but I couldn’t let you do this on your own. All those people, well minus Cheryl, they love you. They want to help you, just…don’t hate me.” He glanced at his shoes when he suddenly felt the skinny little tan arms wrapping around his waist

“Thankyou Jughead, this is the nicest thing anyones ever done for me.” She whispered into his chest.

Jughead finally released the breath he had been holding and leaned his chin on top of her head “anytime Betty, anytime.”

Suddenly they were disrupted by the beeping of a horn
“Come on love birds, were burning daylight, we’ve got quite a journey ahead of us.” Archie shouted from the front seat.

Jughead and Betty laughed as the dark haired boy threw an arm around the blondes shoulders
“You heard the man” she giggled “let’s do this!”

Jughead smiled

“Let’s do this.”

This is kind of like a prologue, do you guys think I should add Reggie and the Pussycats in here somehow? Let me know!

Okay, I’ll talk shit about Gotham and make fun of it because they didn’t make my ship canon but let me tell you all why you should actually watch Gotham or at least give it a chance:

1. It’s a good beginner introduction into the Batman verse because while it doesn’t follow exact canon, they follow characterization and make the story easy enough to understand. It doesn’t just force you to watch Bruce Wayne grow up into becoming Batman, it shows you how each and every character, even the ones that aren’t very liked in the Batman verse, got to be who they are today.

2. They have LGBT+ representation within the first episodes. They have a lesbian, two bi characters, and a openly gay character. They don’t just hint at the characters being gay or make it a big shameful thing, one of them wakes up one day and just tells someone else “I need to tell this person I love them”

3. The character development is amazing. A character goes from being selfish and refusing to risk his life for anyone and put people he becomes close to in harm’s way to get what he wants to willing to sit in jail, ruin his reputation, and then later on let someone kill him just to save someone else’s life.


5. THE FANDOM HAS BEEN THE NICEST FANDOM I HAVE EVER BEEN IN. EVERYONE HAS BEEN SO NICE TO ME AND I HAVENT GOTTEN EVEN A SLIGHT BIT OF SHIP HATE FOR ANYTHING THAT I SHIP. But note: I’m not saying there aren’t bad people, I’m just saying the vast majority of the people I have found have been wonderful and kind.

6. The characters are so easy to love, even those that aren’t supposed to be liked or were just thrown in to help the story along and don’t exist are easy to fall in love with. And they’re all complex characters that have good and bad parts of their personalities.

In short; Gotham is a wonderful show that really gets you into the whole Batman verse with a nice diverse cast, great story, wonderful and ever changing characters and overall an great fandom with very little hate.

Well, Edward’s a very, very remarkable man…one of the nicest people I’ve ever met in my life. And he wanted to fit in. So he watched the previous thirteen films (and) decided to try and look a little like David Burke, as much as he could, bless him. So he put on a rug, I mean a toupee, and, umm - and put lifts in his heels. And the first film we shot together was “The Abbey Grange”. And we were running across a field, and he, he…these heels were too high so he was slipping and sliding. And I said, ‘Oh, Edward, take them out! I’ll bend my knees for the rest of the film!’

Jeremy Brett

(On the subject of Edward Hardwicke replacing David Burke as Watson).

Gazette stans

Aoi stans: The nicest people you will ever meet. Hecking protective of our lovely raven. Just want him to be happy. Questions his tweets every day. Screams /cries in bless at everything he does

Reita stans: chill AF, quite but they are fun. ‘Nose is a lie.’ Will fight someone to touch his arms. Either hate or love his nose band. Wonders if his birds are still alive.

Uruha stans: Thirsty as fuck for this man. Wanna grab them thighs. Go from wanting to cuddle him to roasting him for his crocs, fashion or hair. Have some of the best memes of him. Sees the thigh jiggle they wanna suck it.

Kai stans:They range from look at this cutie to flog me daddy. Most likely have a hand kink. Super sweet to everyone. Cries at his dimple.

Ruki stans: have no mercy at memeing this dude. Somewhat questions Ruki for the things. Best memes. Have all the photos of his tattoos. Hecking proud of him daily.

Happy Birthday, Buck (Barnes/Rogers x reader)

Just a little something I cooked up for our favorite assassin’s 100th.

You didn’t really know much about Bucky Barnes, other than the few details that Steve had given you over the years since you had befriended him after joining the Avengers; you knew that they were best friends when they were younger and you knew about Bucky’s fall, but beyond that, the Captain was pretty tight-lipped.  There were a few moments here and there when certain dates that were significant would pass and Steve would feel particularly emotional, sharing just a bit more in his weakness, or sparks of insight flashed in his eyes when a news report would catch his attention, only to see him grow despondent when it gave him nothing to go on in his search.  When the day came that he found his friend again, it wasn’t exactly a joyous time, with the team fracturing under its own strain, fully broken by the weight of Steve’s unwavering commitment to his fugitive friend.

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neverland-city  asked:

1 and 29 for the blurb thing please! I just followed you and I adore your blog!!!

Hello love! Thank you for following, it means a lot! Also, I decided to come the two; not sure if that’s what you wanted, but it seemed to work out well for these two! This probably isn’t at all what you expected but. It just happened.

1. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

29. “I did not scream.”

Holy shit, you’re real.” Were the first words you ever uttered to Harry Styles. You had somehow found yourself at an after party for some movie release or another -you couldn’t keep up anymore, considering your best friend was constantly dragging you to every one she had to go to for work. Due to this, you ended up making a lot of friends that also happened to be friends with Harry, and you knew soon enough you two would end up at the same event.

You weren’t going to lie; you would do absolutely anything Harry Styles asked you to do, and you hadn’t ever even met him. What you did know was he was gorgeous, and according to everyone around you he was also the nicest guy you would ever meet.

So here you were, leaning against the bar and watching your best friend try to pick up some rich old dude as you nursed one of the drinks someone had sent you a few moments ago. Of course, it was some creepy man who didn’t understand the word “no,” and you had to quite literally threaten to knee him in the balls so hard he could never have kids again to get him to go away, but you still ended up with a free drink. Beggars can’t be choosers, right?

“Reckon he’s not gonna be buying any girls drinks fo’awhile after that,” you heard a deep voice speak up from beside you, his voice full of amusement, and you knew who it was immediately. Now, if you hadn’t been slightly tipsy from the alcohol you had already downed, you probably would’ve been able to reply like a normal, functioning human being, but alas, you weren’t.

Holy shit, you’re real,” slipped out of your mouth before you could even process what exactly you were saying, and your words were met with Harry’s loud laugh, his head tilting back slightly as his eyes crinkled at the corners and holy shit, was he always this beautiful?

“That I am, love. Think I was a unicorn, or somethin’?” He knew who she was, because he had seen her with his friends many times on social media, and he was just waiting for the day they would finally run into one another. If anything, he should’ve been saying the same thing to her, because every time he arrived at a party he always caught a glimpse of her long hair trailing behind her as she exited. 

“No, definitely not a unicorn,” she shook her head, her nose scrunching as she looked at him and thought for a moment, “Maybe like a greek god.. Yeah, that works,” she was smiling now, and Harry couldn’t help but smile back.

After that night, you two saw each other on the regular. You made sure to stay at the parties until Harry arrived, and Harry always made sure to arrive slightly early, just in case. You were notorious for dipping out without saying a word to anyone, which was something that definitely frustrated Harry as you two became friends.

“I don’t know, love!” Harry was currently sitting on his bed as you were inside his bathroom, drying off from the shower you had just taken, and he was annoyed, “You could be lyin’ in a ditch somewhere and no one would know! Ya can’t just take off, love. How am I supposed to know y’safe?” He was scolding her about the night before when she had once again just taken off without a word, and Harry was tired of worrying about her; she had been doing this for a year now, and he was going to put an end to it. What if some man decided to grab her while she was walking home?

He didn’t have too long to dwell on the thought, because the next minute you were screaming your lungs out and zooming out of the bathroom, only a tight towel wrapped around your still wet body. Harry’s eyes were wide as he watched you clutching onto your towel to make sure it didn’t fall, but his eyes still wandered over your exposed legs and to the apple of your ass that was just peaking out from under the towel.

“The bloody hell?” 

“KILL IT! KILL IT KILL IT KILL IT! BURN THE ENTIRE APARTMENT DOWN!” You were shrieking now, your eyes frantic as you pointed to the bathroom, your feet scrabbling across the floor and jumping on top of the bed.

“Kill what? What the hell are ya on about now?” He was far too distracted by the sight of you jumping on his bed in nothing but a towel to really concentrate on anything that was happening right now, especially since the towel was slowly slipping and beginning to expose your perky breasts. 

“Harry fucking Styles I swear to god if you don’t stop oggling me and go kill the spider in that bathroom you will never get to fuck me,” your words were frantic but also sounded angry, but of course all Harry could focus on was the part where you implied if he did kill the spider, he’d get to fuck you.

After a few more minutes of you screaming at him and him teasing you, he finally went into the bathroom, opting to open the window and let it out rather than just killing it. When he finally emerged from the bathroom, you were now wearing one of his band t-shirts and a pair of simple black lace panties as you laid on your stomach on his bed, your fingers tapping away on your phone. He was quick to crawl on the bed, and soon he was plopping down on top of you, letting his entire body weight crush down on you.

“Get off me, you oaf,” you whined, dropping your phone and trying to buck him off of you, but that only resulted in your ass grinding against his bulge which was perfectly lined up with your ass.

“Well thas’ no’gonna get me off of ya,” he groaned, his head resting on your shoulder, “You screamed like a lil’ baby over a spider, didn’t know you were such a wimp,” his words were met with you swinging your elbow back to hit him as best as you could under his weight, but really it just resulted in you twisting your body at a weird angle.

I did not scream,” you huffed, even though you very well knew you did. Spiders were scary, okay?

“Hm, is that so?” He was rolling off of you now, his hands gripping onto your hips and pulling you right back against him, his legs intertwining with yours as he bumped his nose against yours, “Think I could probably make ya scream about somethin’ else.” 

You could literally hear a ringing sound in your ears at the suggestion; Harry and you had always been the flirty type since the night you met, but the thought of you both actually acting on it was enough to definitely make you want to scream again. For another reason though, of course.

Saving Grace

​​​​​​pairing: lafayette x reader
words: 3000 (i know guys i’m so extra lmao)
warnings: blood, war, things of that nature, ending is literal crap because it’s 5 in the morning
summary: reader is a battlefield nurse who must take care of a wounded Laf, who becomes smitten with his savior.

You had always been different. It was just a fact.

When you were a young girl, only seven, you acquired a reputation with your classmates of being a tomboy. You weren’t interested in such things as clothes and looking pretty—in fact, you hated such ideals. Instead, you preferred to play with the boys in your school, searching for bugs and rocks in the scratched ground, hiking up your skirts in such an undignified manner that your highly proper mother would surely have fainted at the sight.

She was certainly upset when you enlisted to be a battlefield nurse. You had always been interested in medical topics and signed up nearly right after you heard. As soon as she found out, she came flying into the room, managing to look dignified even as her numerous skirts and petticoats flew out behind her in a bustling mass that reminded one of a ship at full sail.

“(Y/N), you have done many unwise things before, but this—” here she waved her hands about helplessly, hopelessly “—this tops them all. How could you, young lady? You could be killed! You could be traumatized or catch an illness and die! What were you thinking?” You rose, incensed.

“Mother,” you said, in a low, angry voice, “this is the only way I can help the Revolution. I can’t fight, I can’t run for office, and I cannot vote. I am hopeful that this will change one day, but I am not about to sit around at home and do nothing! At least this way I am able to help men who can make a difference by saving their lives and putting them back on the battlefield!” Your father had come in by now, drawn into the living room by the loud voices of you and your mother.

“What is going on?” he shouted over the two of you.

“Your daughter—” your mother spat at the same time you said, “Mother doesn't—”

“One at a time,” your father said, spreading his hands in a gesture that clearly meant slow down.

“Your daughter has enlisted to become a battlefield nurse,” your mother said angrily. “I have tried to warn her of the dangers of such a profession, but she refuses to listen. Dear, please tell her not to go.” You uncrossed your arms, gazing intently at your father’s face. You knew his abolitionist beliefs ran deep, causing him to support the ongoing rebellion. Doubt played over his face; he was clearly torn between his beliefs and love for you and the desire to please his wife. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

“As disappointing as it will surely be to you, my dear,” he said, motioning to your mother, “I have to agree with (Y/N). She is able to help our country in this position and I believe it will be better for her than just sitting at home and revolving through the social circles.” Your mother’s face grew stormier still.

“We have no country! We belong to England! It is simply a passing phase, a small period of rebellion that will be subdued! And (Y/N) needs to become acquainted with the ins and outs of social life! It’s the only way to find her a suitable match and you know it!” she cried.

You sighed. This again. “Mother, I want to choose the man I marry. Love shouldn’t be forced. It should be mutual and founded on deep trust and respect. I’m not interested in flirting and gossip. When the right man comes along, I’ll just—well, I’ll know it.” You and your father both knew what came next—the long spiel about how your parents’ marriage had been arranged and how they were just as happy as any natural couple.

He dragged your mother out of the room with a soft “Let’s go, dear,” and a pitying look that you knew meant he would try to talk some sense into her. He must have been somewhat successful, for you were off to training in a matter of days.

There were twenty other young women in the class with you, which was considered a high number, and you were put under the charge of the local doctor, who was known to be surly at the best of times. However, your talent became clear and you soon left everyone behind in terms of progress. He couldn’t help but admire your skill, and he gave you many kind, if rather gruff and grudging, compliments.

After three weeks of training, it was clear that you needed to be sent out to the lines as soon as possible. Someone with your level of skill couldn’t be left behind; you were needed. You were told that you would be sent out to a battlefield to serve Continental troops under General George Washington. He was famous everywhere, and you were always swamped with questions at social events.

The ride to the camp was somewhat lacking in comfort; you rode in a carriage drawn by a horse who seemed bent on running the vehicle across every single rut and stone lying in the street. However, you emerged from the two-hour ride all in one piece, if a battered and bruised one. You were greeted by a young soldier who looked to be about twenty years of age. He snapped a crisp salute.

“Miss (Y/N), ma'am?”

“Yes, that’s me. The new nurse.”

“I am Sergeant Locke. I have been ordered to show you to your quarters. Doctor Scott will show you everything you will need to know tomorrow.” There was something odd about the man—he wasn’t even in a proper uniform, but he exuded all the cocky confidence of a British officer. It wasn’t exactly a negative thing, it just seemed odd and out-of-place in such a situation.

“Thank you, Sergeant.” He held out a hand for your luggage and marched smartly to a small tent towards the center of the camp.

“This one’s yours, ma'am,” he said, placing your suitcase on a small table made of dark wood in one corner of the tent. “Try to sleep. It may be the only rest you get for who knows how long.” He left on this cheery note.

You dropped into the single straight-backed chair, exhausted, and looked around the bleak interior of the tent that was now yours. You didn’t know what the next day, week, month, however long, held for you. Death and suffering beyond imagining would be manifested to you, and you knew that it would shape you for the rest of your life. Of course, you didn’t realize just how important your service would end up being. You were just concerned with sleep; you needed it after that horrendous ride. Despite your new surroundings and forebodings of the following day, it came quickly.


Fortunately, Doctor Scott was the nicest man you could ever hope to work for. He was also unexpectedly old. You had imagined a man in his mid-thirties, maybe, but he was around sixty. His hair stood up around his face in a round, white shock, and his clear blue eyes were framed by small rimmed glasses. However, despite his age, his spotted hands were gentle and skilled. You liked him at once, and he couldn’t help but feel the same. You were a young, pretty woman who was clearly passionate about what you were doing. No matter how bad an injury was, you always kept your wits about you and worked calmly in life-or-death situations. Hundreds of lives were saved because of your work. You did so well that General Washington himself commended you on your successful treatments. Everything was going perfectly—that is, until one day, a certain patient came to the medical tent and shattered life as you knew it into shards.

The Marquis de Lafayette.


“Critical patient coming! Miss (Y/N), you’re needed!” a minor doctor yelled. Two soldiers came rushing in, stepping quickly but carefully, bearing a stretcher between them. They hoisted it up onto the table and released their grip. You wiped your hands on a towel and hurried over to check the wounded man.

Needless to say, you were blown away.

He he was badly battered and bloodied, but you could see that underneath the caked dirt and dried blood, he was undeniably attractive. His skin was a rich brown color, a nearly perfect match of the coffee you made for your father every morning at home. His hair spiraled from his head in thick corkscrew curls, and his defined jawline was dotted with stubble. His large mouth opened slightly to reveal very white teeth, and his eyes were closed and drawn tight with pain, despite his unconscious state.

You took this all in, then shook your head. “What has happened to this man?” you asked hurriedly.

“Shot in the leg, he was, marm,” answered one soldier. “Blood everywhere, there was. Passed out about a minute after bein’ wounded, I’d say. Shot mighta severed somethin’ important.”

“Thank you,” you said, your mind working quickly. “Please step outside for the time being. I need all the room I can get.” They did as you said, and you got to work, lifting up the cloth covering his lower body.

The wound was much worse than you expected. His entire leg was stained with the blood from the gaping hole in his lower thigh. You quickly tore off part of his pants, trying to subdue the rising color in your cheeks. He made a small, soft groan of pain, and you saw his eyes slowly, and with no small effort, blink open.

Chocolate. His eyes were rich, dark chocolate.


Blurred shapes. A light-colored streak directly in front of him. After the shades came the pain. Then the darkness, the nothingness. But then, too soon, the light was back. No, no, let me go back, he thought. The darkness is better. No pain there. But the light refused to go, would not stop coming at him, growing until he was able to move and was hit with waves of pain. He groaned, the quiet sound too small to express the hurt. Then his eyes opened, two slits of the world revealed.

And what saw made his eyes widen immediately. He didn’t even feel the pain for a moment. He saw what could only be described as an angel.

Her hair was what he saw first. Shiny and soft-looking, it was tied back. Strands of it escaped from its confinement, reaching down to frame her face like a crown. He smiled internally. Your halo is tattered.

The face her hair framed was the most beautiful thing he’d ever witnessed. The soft curves of her cheek, her eyelashes, the more angular lines of her nose, her upper lip. I have never known beauty before now, he thought. Now I have found it.

He sank into the darkness again, but this time, it had to pull at him more insistentently.


He had stared straight into your eyes for what seemed forever, then wandered around your face, his mouth parting slightly as if to say something. Then he went under again, and you shook yourself. Get to work, you thought. This man could be dying.


He made it through the night. That was the first sign toward a good recovery. A few of his veins had been severed, but you were able to tie up the loose ends. However, his lower leg remained pasty and colorless. You had your doubts about whether or not he would ever regain the use of his leg. The word amputation even crossed your mind a few times. Although you were most worried about the fact that he was still unconscious. He hadn’t felt a thing as you were touching his wound, and that concerned you. However, you decided to clean off some of the dirt and dried blood that caked his face.

You made your way over to his bedside with a bowl of cool water and a cloth and began softly wiping off the grime.

This time, his eyes fluttered open to meet yours, and you were shocked again by the concentration of the color, the intensity of the pure pools of brown. He croaked out something unintelligible, and you leaned closer, furrowing your brow. He tried again, but couldn’t speak. However, you could tell that his mouth was forming the word “water.” Working quickly, you filled a cup with fresh water from a pitcher and held it up to his mouth. He drank with some difficulty, then sank back onto the pillows, exhausted. You looked concernedly at him. His eyes found their way to your face again, and you couldn’t stop the blush staining your cheeks no matter how hard you tried.

“Your name…What’s your name?” he asked, hoarsely.

“(Y/N),” you told him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” he responded, the corners of his mouth twitching up.

You listened to his voice. There was a heavy lilt to his voice; his words were laced with a rich, lovely accent. “Are you—French?” you asked him.

“Oui, mademoiselle. I am Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, Marquis de Lafayette. But those who know me call me Lafayette. It is a sort of a—how you say—nickname.” Your eyes widened. This man was one of the most important men in the Continental Army. You felt even more of a duty to get him back up and fighting.

“And, mademoiselle, I must say that I have seen wonders great and small, but none so stunning as you.” Your eyes widened at the unexpected compliment.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. I am considered quite…plain at home. Ordinary,” you told him.

“In all of my native France, there has never been a fleur so magnifique.”

You understood enough French to know what he was saying. Feeling suddenly flustered and awkward, you excused yourself. “I…I must be going. Please tell me if you need anything.” He nodded and lay back down.

“Thank you,” he said.


However hard you tried, you couldn’t get the Frenchman out of your head. His words swirled through your mind, bringing a smile to your face every time. You were required to administer to him every day, and you savored the time you spent with him. He told you stories about France and you told him about your family, how your mother wanted to arrange every aspect of your life and how you wanted to be free, independent, able to make your own choices. And each time you looked into those chocolate eyes and softly wiped down his forehead and heard his lovely accent, you couldn’t help but fall more in love. Despite his words the first time you spoke, you couldn’t help but feel that he didn’t feel the same. He was an important figure in the newborn American cause, a famous soldier and diplomat. You were just you. The everyday battlefield nurse; nothing special. However, you didn’t see his eyes following you when you were busy around the tent, humming to yourself and straightening up anything that needed it. He saw your instinctive ability to please without trying, to brighten the day of every soldier you cared for. The look in his eyes as he gazed at you would have made you melt, but you were busy and never once thought that he could love you back.

Even General Washington noted how highly he spoke of you when he came to check on your patient.

“Keep treating him well, (Y/N),” he would tell you.

“Yes, sir,” would be your reply.

It wasn’t until he was leaving the medical tent that you realized how much he really meant to you.

You walked into the tent, then stopped short. His bed was empty, unoccupied. You ran out to the door of the tent, and saw his form walking away, steadying himself with a large stick when needed.

“Mister Lafayette!” you called after him.

“Ah, Miss (Y/N),” he responded.

“Where—where are you going?” you asked, anxiously.

“Why, haven’t you heard? I’ve been cleared. You have done your job well,” he told you, grinning his wide smile that never failed to make you go weak.

“Oh,” was all you could say.

“What, does the lovely nurse miss me already?” he asked, teasing in his voice.

“I—I didn’t think you’d leave so soon,” you told him. You had never felt weaker, more powerless in your entire life. “I won’t see you again.”

“My dear lady,” he said, stepping closer to you. “I practically have free range of this camp. I will always find you. Besides, you mean too much to me. I could never leave you behind.” And with that, almost before you knew it, his mouth was on yours and the rest of the world vanished. His lips were finally, finally yours.

You made a small sound and he pulled you impossibly closer to him, his arm snaking around the small of your back, its strength evident. Your hand tentatively reached up to do what you had wanted to do forever, to run your fingers through his mass of ebony corkscrew curls. And it felt so right that you didn’t even think of letting go, of stopping, even when a voice screamed out,

“Good God!”

Sergeant Locke was scandalized.

Arranged Marriage (Robb Stark)

Robb Stark knew that as the heir to Winterfell he was eventually going to have to be wed. When that time comes he couldn’t be more happy with his fathers choice.

Word Count: 1897

This is my first ever GoT one-shot/short story so if it’s rubbish…I’m sorry! Mostly from Robb’s POV. The female character is referred to as (Y/N). (Which I don’t usually write so once again…Sorry if it’s not the best.) (Not my Gif)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

This is where I send prompts right? Okay so for the mad monday what about like Peter getting all up in Steve's face after hearing about Civil War? And like the Guardians also stepping in cause Tony's small and they're way overprotective?

“Peter i told you its okay!” says Tony and holds Peters wrist.

It’s the first time the Guardians will meet the Avenger and Tony is afraid. Tony hadn’t told them so much about their …civil war. But Rhodey did. Every detail.

“Its not okay! I can’t believe them. They treat you like shit and then want to come back and live here? No way.” grumbles Peter but he doesn’t storm over to the door.

Which is like a little success.

“Seriously i can burn their faces off.” says Rocket and he is already loading his new gun.

“No!” shrieks Tony and that is the moment the elevator opens.

Its only Natasha, Sam and Steve so far. They others are still in wakanda. Natasha just leaves the elevator without batting an eyelash and goes in the direction of her old room.

Rocket snarls after her.

“Tony?” asks Steve and Tony looks up at that.

“Its Mr. Stark for you.” answers Peter for him and Tony hopes nobody can see his blush. Overprotective Boyfriend.

“I think he can talk for himself.” says Sam, but he looks a bit worried.

“Of course he can! His mouth is still working.” answers Drax at that and Tony nearly has to smile. Drax has learned a lot but sometimes there are moments, where he doesn’t understand things like that.

Gamora rolls her eyes so hard, that Tony can hear it.

“So can we talk?” asks Steve when nobody says anything and Peter laughs.

“And do you really mean talk or beating Tony up with your pretty little shield again?” grunts Peter and stands right in front of Tony.

To be honest, thats a bit hot.

“I could blow his shield up. Its only vibranium. Thats nothing.” answers Rocket and Tony has to smile. Its true. The Guardians showed him greater weapons from space. Even his suit is better now.

“We are here to talk.” is the only answer from Steve and Peter says nothing for a moment. He just looks at Steve.

“Okay lets talk.” says Gamora and claps here hands.

“Right we start. I don’t like you. I heard how you treated my friend over there and how bad he was injured. So normally i don’t see a reason why you should still be alive. But he said he doesn’t want your heads. So i will not kill you, but only because Ironhead says so.” starts Rocket and that and Tony looks down at him. That is the nicest thing Rocket ever said to him.

“I am Groot!” Which means like ’me, too fuckers’. Tony can speak with Groot after Rocket taught him for weeks.

“I like Ironhead. He is our friend and i will destroy you if you ever treat him badly again.” grunts Drax and he shows Steve and Sam his swords. They make a rogue noise as he grinds them together.

“Anthony is a good man and i will protect him till i die.” says Gamora after Drax and to be honest Tony is really surprised that his new friends are so nice.

“I hope you heard that. Because Anthony is my boyfriend and won’t let you hurt him again. I know that he still likes you, so i can’t kill you. But thats just Tony, always such a good heart. So if i ever hear something from Tony that you haved hurt him again… i will show you why exactly they call me Starlord.” says Peter at the end and he takes Tonys hand in his.

Tony smiles at him.

He was always so afraid of space and who knew that the space was his solution for everything. And his love.

Into You

Jeongguk x Taehyung

Words: 1.7k

Genre: Fluff, for now

College AU

Chapter I-Into You

Cause I’m so into you

I can barely breathe…

Jeongguk wasn’t someone who you’d want to make friends with just for the sake of it. Jeongguk wasn’t someone who looked approachable. Jeongguk wasn’t someone who would even acknowledge you if you dared to approach him.

Jeongguk just wasn’t that type of person.

Usually when someone tried to approach him, he’d glare at them until they realized their presence wasn’t welcome. There were only a select few that Jeongguk let into his circle.

One was his adoptive older brother Yoongi, who was actually his cousin. He’d known Yoongi damn near all his life, and if it weren’t for him, Jeongguk didn’t know where he would be.

Namjoon, Yoongi’s friend, was another. He only let Namjoon in because he was Yoongi’s friend, but hell, Jeongguk liked him just as much. He was like the dad he never had, you know?

Except Namjoon liked to participate in the illegal activities that they liked, and more encouraged them then tried to put a stop to it.

Jimin somehow managed weasel his way into Jeongguk’s life too, despite being short, clingy, and annoying. Jeongguk rarely called him hyung, to tease the latter. Despite always teasing each other, Jeongguk could always go to Jimin for advice that didn’t concern avoiding the police.

Other than that, Jeongguk didn’t trust a soul.

Jeongguk often skipped class, but when he did come, he would always sit towards the back, picking at his nails or writing on desks. There were always eyes on him no matter what, that he chose to ignore.

You couldn’t deny that Jeongguk was smoking, of course Jeongguk knew this himself and didn’t know if it was a blessing or a curse. He always got stares from boys and girls alike, he’s had his one night stands with those who were brave enough to approach him, too many to count actually, and some of them were somehow still clingy and claimed that Jeongguk was ‘the one’, or that they had something ‘special’.

No matter how bomb his dick game was, Jeongguk knew it couldn’t make anyone fall in love.

It was early in the morning. Like, early, you’d usually never catch Jeongguk in the hallways at this hour, but he just had to get out of that girl’s apartment before she woke up. He was hoping she wouldn’t remember him, or what they did last night. Jeongguk had barely had enough time to get back to his dorm and clean himself up, much less time to respond to his friends’ texts of ‘Where the fuck are you?’  and ‘I’m beating your ass when I see you’.

Now he was at his first class, which he almost never went to, twenty five minutes early. For fucks sake, the teacher wasn’t even there yet, and here Jeongguk was, sitting in the back of the class.

Five minutes later, another male walked in the door, not seeming to notice him at first. Ah yes, Jeongguk knew this boy. He saw him around all the time, it’d be hard not to. He was bubbly, loud, and friendly…everything Jeongguk wasn’t. Jeongguk sometimes wondered what it was like to be as friendly as him. But what was the boy’s name? Jeongguk never remembered names well.

“Woah, what the fuck?

Jeongguk was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard that deep baritone voice spew profanity. The boy was staring directly at him, mouth open in an ‘O’ shape, eyes widened in awe. Jeongguk suddenly felt self conscious. Was there something on his face? Did he still have lipstick on his neck? Why was he worrying about these things all of a sudden if he’s never worried about them before?

They had an intense staring contest for the longest before the boy spoke up.

“Did I scare you?” Not even close.

 “Sorry, I was just…surprised,” the boy continued. Jeongguk quirked an eyebrow, as if daring the boy to continue. Which he did.

“It’s just that I never see you in class, much less early. It’s kinda scary to have someone be here before you when you’re always the earliest person, ya know?” he rambled, not bothering to check if Jeongguk was listening or not. Then he stopped all of a sudden and turned to Jeongguk again.

“Why are you here?” Jeongguk gave a mildly offended look at that, and then remembered to keep his hard exterior. “What’s it to you? I can’t come to class?”

The boy didn’t seem phased by his words.

“It’s just that I never see you. You’ve missed a lot you know. How the hell are you going to catch up? How in the hell are you going to pass?

“Who are you to be concerned?”

“I’m Kim Taehyung.”

Jeongguk let out a bitter sounding laugh. How could this kid just tell a stranger his name with no hesitation?

“And since you know I’m Taehyung, I think I have the right to know your name.”

Jeongguk rolled his eyes, but for some reason gave in anyway.

“Jeon Jeongguk.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened incredulously at that. Jeongguk assumed that the boy-Taehyung- would finally leave him alone at hearing that. His name was pretty known around campus, people would run just at the sound of it.

You’re Jeongguk?” Here it comes.

“But you’re not scary! Or mean!” Jeongguk’s head snapped up, lips slightly parted. Did Taehyung not have eyes? Or ears? Was he not intimidated by Jeongguk’s presence alone?


“In fact, you kinda look like a bunny. Yeah, a bunny. Hey, smile for me, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk immediately frowned upon the request. “Who the hell do you think you are, ordering me around?” He demands, still wondering why Taehyung hasn’t run off yet.

“I’m somebody who wants to make you smile. So can you do it please?” Taehyung pouted and batted his long, thick, pretty eyelashes (not that Jeongguk was paying any attention. Of course not).

Somehow laughter bubbled up in Jeongguk’s throat and escaped through his mouth, making Taehyung smile a bright, boxy smile. Jeongguk stopped laughing when he heard the sound of a picture being taken.

When he looked at Taehyung again, he saw that the boy had his phone out, still smiling. Taehyung came closer, closer than he needed to be to show Jeongguk the picture he took. “See? You do look like a bunny?”

The first thing that hit Jeongguk wasn’t the picture, it was Taehyung’s scent. He smelled like tangerines and honey, and a little bit of vanilla. Jeongguk almost moaned. Jeongguk unconsciously leaned in to get a better whiff, but Taehyung pulled away all too soon. Jeongguk frowned when the boy pulled away, and Taehyung giggled.

“You look like you like that one, you want me to send it to you?” Taehyung asked, his big brown puppy dog eyes staring right back at Jeongguk’s darker doe eyed ones. Was Taehyung indirectly asking for his number? Was he just trying to get into his pants too? The thought made Jeongguk sick to his stomach.

He didn’t want to think Taehyung was like that.

“Sure,” he said without thinking. He almost slapped himself right there. Taehyung brightened up and leaned forward. “Okay! What’s your number, Jeonggukie?” Jeongguk got another whiff of Taehyung’s lovely scent. That wasn’t lovely at all. Nope.

“Gimme your phone,” Taehyung complied with no hesitation. Jeongguk quickly typed in his number and name. When Taehyung was handed back his phone, he frowned.

“Really, Jeonggukie? That’s so lame.”


“Your contact name! It’s just… Jeongguk.”

“Yeah, so? That’s my name isn’t it?”

Taehyung huffed. “My contacts can not have names like that! I’m changing it,” Jeongguk rolled his eyes at the brown haired male’s childishness. “Don’t do anything stupid, Taehyung-ssi. Let me see when you’re finished.”

“You can call me Taehyung, ya know,” He said without looking up from his phone. “Actually, how old are you, kid?”


“You’re 19?! I’m 21! You’re supposed to call me hyung!”

“Sure thing, Tae.”

Taehyung only pouted at Jeongguk’s blatant disrespect, but made a noise of excitement when he shoved his phone in Jeongguk’s face.

Jeongguk’s name was officially changed to Jeonggukie with a sparkly heart and bunny emoji.

“Do you like it?”

“I-” Jeongguk doesn’t get to answer because people are starting to file in. “Oh, I guess I should get back to my seat.” Taehyung pouted.

Jeongguk for some reason felt like he didn’t want the other to leave him, and the words came out on their own.

“Taehyung wait-” He sputtered, face flushing when Taehyung tilted his head at him.

“Y-You..you can..sit with me if you want,” Taehyung smiled brightly at his words, and Jeongguk couldn’t look directly at him in fear of being blinded. Or maybe it was just because Taehyung was way too cute for his own sake.

Nope, definitely the first one.

Taehyung retrieved his things from the front and made his way to the back, plopping down in the seat to Jeongguk’s right. Soon almost all of the students had arrived.

A few minutes before class was supposed to start, another student approached Taehyung’s desk, apparently not in the mood to be messed around with.

“Hey, dipshit, that’s my seat. Get up.”

Jeongguk’s head turned so fast he almost got whiplash. Who was this and who did they think they were? Talking to Taehyung like that, the fucking nerve of this guy. What did Taehyung ever do to him? Jeongguk had only known Taehyung for all of 20 minutes, but he knew, or at the very least had a feeling that Taehyung was one of the nicest people he’s ever met.

Jeongguk had the sudden urge to protect.

“O-Oh, s-sorry I’ll-” Taehyung started and moved to get up, but Jeongguk’s hand shot out to rest on Taehyung’s shoulder and push him back down.

“You can stay, Tae.” Jeongguk growled, eyes trained on the student. The student’s eyes widened when he looked at Jeongguk, and he immediately backed down with an ‘Alright, whatever man’ and found another seat.

Jeongguk retracted his hand and crossed his arms. He couldn’t look at Taehyung. Jeongguk knew his face was beet red and if Tae saw, he would laugh.

“ Jeonggukie..?” he heard Taehyung whisper.

Don’t look. Don’t look.

“ Jeongguk. Jeonggukie.”

Damn it.

Jeongguk looked at Taehyung, only to find him staring directly at him with those huge puppy dog eyes of his.

“Thank you,” he says with a boxy smile and a faint blush spread across his gently curved nose and round, tanned cheeks.

Jeongguk thinks his heart may burst at the sight. Taehyung was just too cute for words.

“Y-Yeah. You’re welcome.”

And all I wanna do

Is to fall in deep…