he's there because i messed up something and needed to cover it

Devour (Smut)

Summary: No real plot here, tbh. Just Shawn treating you right. 

S/o to @permanentguitar for the assist and @anothermendesfangirl for making the visual at the end of this. 

Have at it. Enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated. 


He knows how to take care of you. He always does. So when he asks you how your day was during dinner and you explain how long and stressful it was, it didn’t surprise you when he pulls you out of your seat to lead you to the bedroom. The second glass of wine you just poured is also in tow because, well, you’re not going to let it go to waste.

“Really?” he chuckles as you take a long sip and set the glass on nightstand. The corner of your mouth pulls into a smirk and you shrug at him. You’re almost too tired to care at this point and you’re ready for whatever he has in store for you.

His hand comes up to cup the side of your face and his lips find yours. This kiss itself is short and sweet, then his lips move to the corner of your mouth before peppering kisses across the rest of your face. His nose grazes against your cheek as his lips travel and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine. The gasp you let out lets him know.

Keep reading

top 10 phan moments that make me wanna rip my heart out

yeah, just ten moments among hundreds, let it be part one or something. tell me what i’ve missed because i want more suffering in my life.

10) mind control.

i mean, i appreciate the subtlety. i crave those tiny moments that you only notice when someone points them out to you. but this! you can’t miss this one, this moment is shoved down our throats. this is so “i’m allowed to do that to you, to be in your personal space, and gaze into your eyes for no reason, just because i want to”. and phil’s face in that moment, so much joy and mischief, he claps his hands and gazes back.

9) chest touch.

drama queen howell strikes again, it hurts to rewatch it srsly, why is he so extra? but what is phil doing ladies and gents? he slaps his chest in the weirdest way possible, he brushes it, it’s like he wants to shove him but reassuringly and the movement happens so fast you have to pause for a second to comprehend it. that sweet gentle boy is so fond of dan’s unnecessary commentary and yeah, it completely distracts us from what dan is saying at that moment.

8) feel my heartbeat.

was that necessary, really? like, i don’t ask my friends to feel my heartbeat when i’m scared, that was such a “horror movie at first date” bullshit, that’s not what people do?? and when dan does feel that beautiful hummingbird heart, phil just covers his hand with his own palm because yes, you gotta feel it very close, no air between your hand and my chest. dan immediately looks into the camera to show us that yeah, i know you’re there, nothing strange, and makes a comment about phil dying. wow.

7) phil the delivery man.

i don’t know what to say. it’s so simple but why does phil have to make such an act of bringing dan his charger, why does he talk in that stupid voice?? they have a banter, and then phil FIXES DAN’S CHARGER FOR HIM, like what?? who asked you to do that? where’s my IT guy au (literally, he’s got glasses, look at him). and before he leaves he plays the piano that nerd, what an attention seeker, and then bows!! is he tipsy? did he have a pre-liveshow orgasm or something? dan laughs fondly and it’s all i need in the world.

6) child beer.

what’s happening and does it even matter. phil’s hiding on the floor, but why? to surprise us? eh whatever. so he’s got that magical japanese powdery stuff and he wants dan to taste it. the biggest problem for me here, ahem, i mean the thing that just kills me every time is that phil spends the whole time (eight minutes) on his knees and he looks so cute when he makes that beer, holds it close to the camera, and then lets the foam sit so dan can have the ultimate child beer experience.

it reminds me of that hot chocolate video, where he does something so trivial but he’s so gentle and loving about it. i still don’t understand why they didn’t do a simple taste test like bros, but phil had to make it for dan, he wanted to see his reaction. and then he tries it as well, touches the glass rim with his lips at the same place where dan’s mouth just was (gross).

and i just can’t ignore how that boy sneaks past dan’s room after that, he’s playful, he stops to say that he googled something and dan was wrong, and domesticity, i wanna die.

5) sleeping phil on tour.

i kinda wanna talk about the angle here because i don’t understand how it was filmed (camera is pretty static, dan’s hand reaches from the side, not behind), but i don’t know if it matters here. what matters is how gentle dan is. of course, he starts with classic nose tickling, which is what “messing with a sleeping friend” usually implies, but then he frees one strand of phil’s hair and just lets it fall. wow, fantastic prank, dan.

and let’s separately discuss that pout/kiss phil does after he opens his eyes. i know you want a slow mo replay, so here we go:

that’s what i call “im gonna stay asleep but i love you”. where’s the nearest cliff so i can fling myself into abyss?

4) the look.

context what context. why did they keep it? why did they put it on fullscreen instead of hiding in the corner? two full-length looks dan, really?? you know what he looks like, why do you have to examine him like that in front of us you slut. and it just passes, without acknowledgment, they just turn back at us simultaneously and I’M STILL DEAD at that moment, i don’t care what happens next.

3) snoot. proot. (i just filmed you doing that)

i don’t even care what it was. something about piano sounds or whatever, but this video haunts me. THERE’S SO MUCH TO IT. first, phil is lying on dan’s bed (at least in the official version it’s dan’s, not mutual), just chilling?? and dan’s working i guess. so they are not actually doing something together but it’s a cozy evening, why would they spend it in different rooms? dan says something, idk, and phil replies “yeah” in that deep voice I SWEAR i haven’t heard from him before. dan makes the sounds again, like can you believe he’s an actual dork in real life, it’s not an act, he’s actually the weirdest boy alive, and he so obviously doesn’t know he’s being filmed. because when phil says “i just filmed you doing that you’re so weird”, he’s so delighted, he laughs at himself, he turns around, his hair is pushed back omg they are both so sleepy and i rejoice. i think this video gives us a rare but fantastic insight in their everyday life, phil must be keeping so much silly videos like that on his google drive and we never get to see them BUT SOMEHOW he posts this one, probably because dan is cute and he wants everyone to know it.

2) you loved it. you wanna do it more.

so, yes. you know this one. where do i even begin?? they play this dragon quiz and then 1) phil says “you loved it” in the strangest voice, like the voice we never hear from him, it’s deeper and quieter, he looks at dan even though dan’s not looking back; 2) dan is looking down as if he’s fiddling with an ipad or something, it’s almost a bts moment, something they would usually edit out. AND THEN THREE SECONDS OF SILENCE while dan kinda processes what’s going on and phil still looks at him expectantly. seductive as fuck. and now this quiet “alright”, i’m just… dan looks like he’s gotten the hint, so he’s a little embarrassed and they share the softest laugh. 

the thing is, we know how often phil makes sexual innuendos and dan always reacts the same way: he looks into the camera, he throws a witty comment in, he puts it on display to show us that there’s no intimacy in that moment. but not this time. i don’t understand why they didn’t edit it out. i just… don’t.

1) pantless liveshow
this is the ultimate. this is the weirdest and the most awesome thing these two gave me and i’m not even sure what can top that. the moment when phil decides to grab the humidifier and show us, he looks at the screen, says “one second” and stands up very awkwardly while dan turns the laptop away from him and makes the weirdest “how you doing” face. 

WHAT THE FUCK. did they think we were so used to them weirdos that we wouldn’t even notice that shit? but fuck, they do it again, they want to show us the spray and dan goes “should i go get it? you have to do phil’s corner”. like, i can’t function, i honestly can’t. AND THE WORST PART is when dan returns and we can see him covering his legs with a blanket just too fast like it’s not that cold boy come on.

i have no explanation and i have every explanation. i don’t deserve all this suffering.

anonymous asked:

I need the story of the Underground Shakespearian Ring

Okay, so the school I went to for 9th grade had this really bizarre grading setup that I still don’t understand- for some reason, instead of the teachers writing up and grading tests and exams and the like, all the work was sent to an unknown third party for them to grade??? It made no sense.

Now, for the most part, the school had decent teachers, and they would just teach the curriculum correctly and then you wouldn’t run into problems with the grading. My English teacher was not one of those teachers.

So like, she hated me pretty early on- she was my homeroom teacher and thought it was disrespectful that I slept in homeroom in the mornings (I was on sleeping pills and they never wore off completely until around 10am), I never had the vocab homework in on time (someone kept breaking into my locker and stealing my vocab books I had to buy a new one like five times), she thought it was “inherently pessimistic and stuck up” when she caught me reading a book called ‘Ninth Grade Slays’ (it was about vampires, not her?), and during our Greek Mythology unit I kept correcting her about the name pronunciations of the gods (she pronounced Hephaestus as Hepatitis one time holy shit). 

Anyway, her feelings on me aside, her teaching skills were shoddy at best. But I had had way worse teachers, so had the rest of the class, and Greek myths are pretty straight-up in what’s going on, so no one really had trouble with the third-party tests.

Then we get to the Romeo and Juliet unit.

Now, fun fact: Shakespeare has always come pretty easily to me. Like, to the point where I sometimes forget/fail to understand that other people have an incredibly hard time translating his works. (I told this whole story to my friends in the school I went to for 10th/11th/12th grade and when the drama department put on ‘Midsummers Night Dream’ one year, more than half the cast tried to get me to translate their scripts and monologues for them lmao).

So, anyway, I’m just a girl, reading Romeo and Juliet and digging how it’s going…and then the teacher starts ‘translating’ it.

Um.

I cannot sift through all the bullshit this woman was spewing, but let’s just say that my favorite part is during Romeo’s spew about Rosaline, there’s one part where he says something like ‘with cupid’s arrow/she hath diane’s will’, and the teacher was taking this to mean Rosaline was a Super Lesbian who was breaking the law or something and running away with her lover Diane, which would be a rad storyline, sure, but like…I’m just raising my hand like “Um Ma’am, Diana is the Roman goddess of chastity. What Romeo meant is that she told him she’s sworn off love and is probably becoming a nun?” and this woman just got. So angry. Like, excuse me, you are a student, you’re here to learn, so you clearly don’t know anything about this (I read Romeo and Juliet for the first time in like preschool whoops). Anyway, she continues on making up her own plot to the play, and I…well I was basically Hermione Fucking Granger at this point I couldn’t just sit there and listen to someone be this wrong about something omfg??? She just got angrier and angrier and stopped calling on me after a while.

So for a couple lessons I’m just left to seethe quietly, but one day after class this girl I knew since grade school came up to me and was like “Could you…? Tell me what the hell we’re supposed to be learning?” and I didn’t even like her but I liked the validation of being someone’s Chosen Teacher so I wrote out a summary for her of everything we had covered so far so she could actually write a comprehendible essay for our homework that night.

But THEN the during the class when we got our essays back, she made a HUGE DEAL, like ‘oh Molly, it wasn’t bad enough that you’ve been failing this course material, now you have to drag your friends into it by trying to re-write the play?’ (l m a o). Like this bitch had literally tried to fight me on ‘Paris is the guy Juliet’s father wants her to marry’ and she didn’t even put a grade on my essay where I said the play only ended in tragedy because of how young and naïve the kids were, that if they had taken a breather and thought things through it probably would’ve been fine (it was a damn good essay and I stand by it). But anyway, she’s trying to make me out to my classmate’s as someone who’s trying to sabotage their education for laughs.

This backfired on her.

See, it dawned on people one by one, that she was only teaching the wrong material -> so they wouldn’t know the right material -> so when they eventually would take the exams they would only have her crazy answers -> which the third party graders wouldn’t know about -> everyone fails this course that’s like half the overall grade of the year.

Most students consider that a problem.

So suddenly the class has decided I’m the fucking Shakespeare Whisperer or something, and one by one start begging me for help. At first I was confused, because as I said, it’s so easy for me that I didn’t realize literally the entire class was lost out of their asses here. omfg. So I was really getting hassled here but I didn’t want my entire class to fail you know???? So I started meeting with people during study halls or texting them after school so they knew what was going on. And then they started telling people in this teacher’s other classes, including upperclassmen who were lost as fuck, so this was quickly spiraling out of control on my end, but overall people were really starting to understand the plays better!! So I was feeling really great.

But then, the teacher noticed that none of the homework getting handed in to her matched up with her crazy translations, and knew I was the sole person to blame (naturally). She literally tried to get me suspended over this, she went to the school’s disciplinarian!

Note: This guy, Mr. C, knew I was a God damn angel- my science class was off the charts, inappropriately awful, so every time one of our science teacher’s wanted to give the entire class detention, instead of calling Mr. C up to the class room as was the rule, they’d send me down to get him so he’d know to write up every student except for me. So when my English teacher dragged me in there he was looking her like “What on Earth could this girl have possibly done to piss you off?” 😂😂

And when she explained he looked at her for a very long moment, glanced at me with a signature ‘Office’ Reaction Face™ , turned back to her and was like “You want her suspended…for starting a study group?” and I was CHOKING.

So that really pissed her off and they started fighting and this was a very overworked and Done man so at some point he gave up and was like “I’m not suspending her but fine we can put a ban on the study group if you leave my office” omfg. So all the other students get notified and now they’re back to freaking out about the upcoming exams.

So like two days later, I’m at lunch, complaining about this to one of my friends who had a different English teacher and thus no problem, and I’m on this whole angry rant (Because I’m pissed, a bunch of kid’s grades are gonna get fucked up because of this! They just wanted to do well! I just wanted to help them!) and my friends staring at me quietly the whole time and when I finish I’m like “What?” and she’s just like “…Molly did you literally start up Dumbledore’s Army in our fucking school?” and I died on scene.

But then I started thinking about the comparison and I was like? You know fucking what? If Harry Potter can get those kids to pass their fucking DADA test I can help kids pass their fucking English Exam. Bring it the fuck on, Umbridge.

So I started Spreading The Word that anyone who needs help with their Shakespeare course can still get help, we just all need to meet up once to hash out the details. After some back and forth notes and deliberations, we ended up meeting in the school library, which was hilarious for a few reasons:

1) It was directly across the hall from this teacher’s classroom.

2) It was actually a converted janitors closet, way smaller than all the other classrooms, and there were like 50 people shoved in there; Not exactly an ideal Room of Requirement

3) The library carried no Shakespeare texts, but had the entire Harry Potter series on display to see when you first walked in

But anyway, despite the fact that we were literally three feet away from her door while we were doing this, our teacher was none the wiser of the meeting. We worked out a game plan- everyone writes out bullshit essays that align with what the teacher’s expecting. After she grades those and gives them back, they get them to me- slipping them in my locker, handing it to me discreetly in the halls or in another class, what have you. I then try to power through the dizzying amount of confusion radiating out of the teacher’s mouth and onto these papers, and more or less write out better translation of what was going on in whatever scene they covered, what the highlights they needed to know were, stuff like that, and then slip it back to them in similar discreet fashion (so the teacher/disciplinarian wouldn’t see me and get suspicious ; also because I was like 15 and wanted to feel like a super cool secret agent). They would then keep my copies and use them as study guides for the upcoming exams, where they would then answer all the questions correctly, the way the third party graders would mark correctly, and pass the exams + the bullshit essays would get them high marks in the teacher’s homework grades. The teacher never caught on to what was happening, just thought her students finally started paying attention to her.

All in all, it was a complicated mess, but it fucking worked. I don’t think anyone failed their exams that year. Will I ever be cooler? No. I think I fucking peaked when I was 15.

Guys My Age (2)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 4K

Warnings: SMUT. NSFW gifs. 

Summary: You’re playing truth or dare with the Avengers when Nat asks you when the last time you got laid was  and Sam dares you to pick a song that perfectly grasps why you haven’t had sex in so long.

A/N: Enjoy the smot. And please use protection people. Better safe than surprised. I think this is dirtiest fic I’ve written so far.

Permanent tag list: @meganlane84

Part 1

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Nerds 1.0 || Peter Parker AU

Prompt - AU where Peter is a high school AP Physics teacher and Y/N is the Anatomy teacher and all their students ship them but they’re too awkward to notice the other one crushing on them, so the students take it into their own hands.

Warning - some vulgar language. extreme cuteness. teen!Avengers  :)))

A/N: btw the narration in this fic might seem a little salty, but that’s only cause I’m really salty right now about some stuff. 

not my gifs

Originally posted by arachnidiot

“Can you overgrown children give me like five minutes of peace?” She tells her overbearing students, they groan. 

“But mom!” Her most annoying student shouted, she rolls her eyes at the boy. Her students had made a habit of calling her mom and it was by far very annoying. 

“Tony, you call me mom one more damn time-”

“Ooh! She said damn, that’s a bad word!” Another one of her troublemaking students shouted from the back of the class. 

“If it’s a bad word, then why would you say it, Barnes?” She retorted, the boy deflated and sat back down. His boyfriend, Steve, laughing and trying to comfort him as his classmates laughed. 

“You guys are high school seniors. I did not sign up to be a teacher to babysit a bunch of five year olds,” she complained, everyone in the class knew she was joking. She was just as rowdy and annoying as they were, it’s why this particular class was her favorite. 

“Come on, Ms. Y/L/N, you know you love us,” Natasha, a troublemaking redhead sitting with her feet up on the desk, said with a barely noticeable smirk on her face. 

“No you’re wrong. You’re all terrible and I hate you,” Y/N lied as she took a sip from her cup of coffee that sat on top of a pile of papers. 

“YOU LOVE US!” Screamed Tony and Clint at the same time, jumping up from their seats and running up to her desk to hug her. 

She couldn’t hide her smile then. Sure they were all extremely annoying and loud, but then again so was she.  

“Actually no. You know who she does love?” Natasha starts, a smirk rising on her face. 

The whole class quiets for a few seconds before they all yell out. 

“MR. PARKER!” 

A red blush rises on Y/N’s cheeks at the mention of the AP Physics and Calculus teacher, Peter Parker. She tried to deny it every single time, but her students knew better. 

“Oh come on guys, not this again!” She whines, and throws her head in an exaggerated exasperated groan. 

Ever since Peter had been hired as the new Physics teacher, the students almost immediately began ‘shipping’ them together. The two of them had became close friends in the blink of an eye seeing as they were both huge science nerds, their students saw this. Continuously teasing the both of them about their crushes. Both of them trying their best to deny, but neither of them could lie well enough to a bunch of teenagers who knew and understood the signs of a crush. 

 “We will bring this up as many times as we can until you guys realize that there’s some major amor going on,” Sam says from the far right row of the class, chewing on his mechanical pencil as he not so discreetly tried to finish his Spanish homework before the bell rang. 

The class agreed with him. 

“Alright fine, we’ll play it like that. How about I bring up the topic of your grades?” She laughs as the majority of the class starts to beg her not to continue.

“That’s what I thought!” She shouts, laughing loudly at the defeated faces of her students.

For the remainder of the class they reviewed the cardiovascular system for the test they were going to have next class. 

The bell rings and the bustling students jumped around in excitement for lunch, “Bye Ms. Y/L/N!” they all shouted. 

“Get out! Go to lunch!” She jokingly yells, they laugh and push each other out of the classroom. 

Y/N smiles to herself and begins to grade papers from another class. 

“Ms. Y/L/N?” She hears a voice say, she looks up and turns her head to see the only freshman student in her class full of seniors. 

“Wanda, what are you still doing here? You should be at lunch,” she says in a concerned tone. 

“I know but I have a test in European History that I have to study for, and I wanted to ask something of you,” she explains. 

“Oh that’s right, I forgot, you have all senior classes. What can I help you with?” 

“Could I get some extra credit or something to raise up my grade? I have a college interview in a few days and they’ll be looking at my grades,” the girl asks, clutching her history textbook in her hands. 

“Wanda, you already have an A in this class…” 

“Yeah, I know but it’s a 99% because of that B that I got on the quiz about the systemic and pulmonary circuits, I was distracted that day,” she wasn’t directly saying it but she was begging for another chance, and Y/N didn’t need any more pressing from her pleading student. 

“Do you want to retake the quiz? I doubt you’ll get another B,” she offers, Wanda’s eyes light up. 

“Yes please!” Y/N chuckles at the young girl's’ enthusiasm and rummages through some folders for an empty sheet of the specific quiz. 

She finds it and hands it to Wanda who hurriedly grabs it and sits at the nearest desk. Wanda finishes the quiz in minutes before finally scribbling her name and class period on top. Y/N grades her paper in front of her, and to no one’s surprise, she got a perfect 100. 

“Oh my god, what a surprise…” Y/N mumbles, Wanda giggles to herself. 

The door opens and the two women turn to look at the door. 

There Mr. Parker stood at the doorway holding a bag of food that smelled strongly of New York takeout, he saw Wanda standing in front of Y/N’s desk and blushed. 

“Should I come back or…?” He trails off. 

“No need Mr. Parker, I was just leaving. Thanks Ms. Y/L/N!” Wanda says as she begins to walk to the door. 

Peter walks into the room and sets the food down on the desk. Y/N looks behind Peter to see Wanda giving her an enthusiastic thumbs up, then pointing at both Y/N and Peter and making a heart with her fingers. Y/N got up and removed her sneaker before chucking it at the girl, Wanda dodged it and quickly left the class. 

Her unmistakable laughter bouncing off the walls of the hallway. 

Y/N sat back down to see Peter looking at her weirdly. “What was that about?” He asked opening the container of takeout food, Y/N blushed immensely. 

“Oh, nothing.”

Wanda runs into the lunchroom in search of her friends, the seniors. 

They sat in their usual table, eating away at the chicken wings that were being served today. 

“Guys! Guys!” She shouts as she nears the table, they turn their heads to look at their freshman friend. 

“What’s up?”

“Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Parker are in her class right now eating lunch together! He bought her food!” She yells excitedly, the table gasps. 

“Seriously?!” Natasha exclaims. 

“Dead serious.”

“We’re gonna go spy on them, right?” Clint asks, licking the ketchup off his fingers and wiping his hands on his pants. 

“Hell yeah.”

They all snuck out of the lunchroom without getting caught and made their way to Ms. Y/L/N’s classroom. The door had a little rectangular window for them to see through, it wasn’t big enough for all of them but luckily Clint had special access to the school’s air ducts. 

Especially the one in Ms. Y/LN’s classroom. 

He unlocked his phone and FaceTimed Natasha and pointed the camera at the future couple. Outside of the classroom, the group crowded around Natasha and her phone. They all quieted down and watched the two awkwardest and nerdiest people in the world attempt to have a conversation without mentioning science and or Star Wars. 

Both of them failing miserably. 

They had somehow gotten into an incredibly deep conversation about Star Wars conspiracy theories. 

“Oh my god, these fucking nerds!” Tony whispers, the rest of the group agrees. 

“We gotta do something or they’re gonna spiral into a never ending conversation about Darth motherfucking Vader,” Steve says, Bucky nods agreeing with his hunky beefcake. 

“Yeah, someone text Barnes and tell him to do something about this…whatever this is,” Bucky says waving his hand for emphasis.

Tony quickly pulls out his phone, his thumbs running over the screen in a blur. A few seconds later, his eyes read a message on the screen. 

“He wrote, ‘On it ;)’.”

They all began to silently think of what Clint had in store for their two favorite teachers. 

In the air duct, Clint quietly pulled two small rocks from his pocket. He had been planning on throwing them at some kid who messed with him earlier but this was more important. 

The air duct he was hiding in was directly above Y/N’s desk but both her and Peter were facing away from him so this was the perfect opportunity. 

“So I wanted to ask you something and excuse me if it makes you uncomfortable, but…do your students say anything about us…you know– uh, liking each other?” Peter asks, Y/N almost chokes on her teriyaki chicken but hides it with a strong cough. 

“Ehh sometimes, why do you ask?” She lies straight through her teeth and hides her blush by looking down at her lap. 

“Well, because-uh they’re always telling me that you…have a crush on me, and that apparently it’s pretty obvious…” 

Her hands were now numb and she wanted to disintegrate into thin air. 

No shit, you fucking idiot,’ she thought. 

“Uhh well, I-I wouldn’t say obvious b-but, I mean-” she couldn’t think of anything to say and now she really wanted to die. 

Clint couldn’t watch his favorite teacher suffer anymore so he slowly and quietly opens the air duct by removing the detachable air grille. 

He throws the first rock at the door, the two teachers turn to the door thinking that someone had knocked. Y/N stands up to open the door, she looks through the little window but when she sees no one she turns back. 

Then, Clint throws the second rock right into Peter’s shirt causing him to stand up and spill chicken fried rice covered in soy sauce all down Y/N’s t-shirt. 

“Oh shit, fuck! I’m sorry!” He exclaimed trying to apologize. 

He grabbed a few napkins and tried to wipe off the soy sauce stains but only making it worse.

“No, i-it’s fine it-” 

“I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean-”

Both were too flustered to let one another finish their sentence. By now Peter wasn’t wiping anything except for her chest, it took a few seconds for both of them to notice exactly what he was touching. 

The blushing idiots finally decided to pull away from each other, and chuckle nervously at their current situation. 

“Come on, come on.” Natasha mumbles under her breath as her and the group continue to watch from her phone. 

Y/N and Peter were now pretending that the whole thing didn’t happen but the stain on Y/N’s light gray shirt said otherwise. Finally, the two of them mustered up enough confidence to actually say something intelligent. 

“Would you like to go out sometime?” They asked simultaneously. 

They both chuckle nervously, “I know it’s not the best time to ask, but…I-I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while and I just didn’t know if you…”

She smiles, “Well I do, and I’d love to go out with you.”

At that moment, the group started cheering completely forgetting that the hallway echoed. 

“Yes OTP!” Sam shouts, almost immediately slapping his hand over his mouth. 

“What the hell?” Y/N mumbles and walks over to the door, seeing their teachers walk toward them the entire group got up and hauled ass back to the lunchroom, the sound of shoes squeaking and stomping on the floor along with the loud swears coming from the teenagers themselves could be heard from inside the classroom. 

Clint watching them run on his phone cursed out loud, “Shit!” he said, his eyes widened. 

Both Peter and Y/N turned to the vent, “Wha-Clint!” Y/N yelled when she realized what was happening. 

There was no point in being quiet now, Clint shimmied down the vent before his teacher crawled in after him. 

Peter and Y/N stood there helpless. 

“I’m gonna kill them.”

“Meddling kids.”

Originally posted by daftprodigy

BONUS:

The next day when the matchmakers walked into Calculus, a class that Peter taught, they all sat next to each other. Being the only people in the school that knew that the two teachers that everyone has been shipping were finally together had its advantages. They’ve been trading test answers for gossip all morning. 

The school was bustling with the news. 

Y/N Y/L/N and Peter Parker were finally together. 

Even Principal Fury and Assistant Principal Hill were excited about it. 

When Peter sees them sitting innocently in their seats, he turns to them. 

“I don’t know whether to say thank you or goodbye, she was pretty angry.”

“Ah, she’ll get over it once you give her that good nerd loving,” Sam jokes, Peter blushes and a tries to hide a very noticeable smile.

“Ew dude, that’s our mom you’re talking about,” Tony says.

Clint perks up.

“Speaking of mom, we’re not calling you dad.”

.

.

.

A/N: I had way too much fun with this. This was mostly about the teen!Avengers, but honestly I live for that AU. 

• MESSAGE ME IF YOU WANT A PART TWO

[ROA]

Hi there! You’re about to witness a whole lot of word dump up ahead so fasten your seat belt, hold on tight, enjoy the ride!

Note: This is an extremely long post 

101 reasons why Jikook/Kookmin is my ultimate OTP
or 101 times Jikook made my heart flutter

1) When Jungkook tries to find reasonable excuses to hold Jimin’s hands (in which he usually succeeds). Example: A decent round of arm wrestling or a hand massage.

2) It’s nice to know Jungkook isn’t the only one who enjoys the occasion; Jimin does too, even comes up with the most absurd idea (like who arm wrestles while sitting 5ft apart? and knowing he will definitely lose?) urm 128 rounds, 128 losses…

3) The way Jimin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, as if to say “You did well, baby. I’m proud of you” or the way Jungkook leans into Jimin’s touch when he pats his hair.

4) When Jimin asked for kisses from Jungkook, but he panicked and jokingly pushed Jimin away, all the while grinning like the shy boy he used to be.

5) The moment Jimin asked for a peck on the cheek on Jungkook’s birthday but Jungkook just smiled at the camera.

6) When Jungkook softly answered “no” when asked by Jimin if he likes his hyung that much. He just couldn’t resist teasing hyung because of how adorable he would look afterward.

(Time frame: 3:45-4:10)

7) The numerous times Jungkook would wait for Jimin even though he keeps on complaining about Jimin’s sloth-like pace.

8) When they strut around the airport or basically anywhere, side by side. Even when others are way ahead they would take their own sweet time.

Backstage…

After fansign…

and of course, at the airport….

9) Jungkook probably feels that it’s a part of his responsibility to make Jimin happy, so more often than not he would try to joke around and comfort the older, even if it means turning himself into a dork.

10) The glistening look in Jungkook’s eyes whenever Jimin talks in interviews. 

11) When Jungkook made Jimin wear a tiara at a fansign and called him princess.

12) The uniformity of Jimin’s Twitter hashtags when Jungkook is there with him. It’s always #JIMIN and #꾹, making it easier for trash like me to find what I’m looking for haha.

13) Jimin and Jungkook being domestic and sharing soggy cereal in one bowl, using one spoon. Also the many times they share drinks and food.

14) “I will sleep here with Jimin” while pointing at the top bunk of the caravan in Bon Voyage , which, for me, strengthens the possibility of them sleeping together in the dorm. Reminds me of this too: “Everyone, Jungkookie cuddles me to sleep”.

15) When Jungkook suddenly stepped in front of Jimin while he’s talking to apply lip balm on his lips. The hyungs’ reactions were gold. They were stuck to one another like glue the whole broadcast and It hit me hard.

16) The times Jimin said “I Love You” to the camera and Jungkook stared at him like he’s the one being confessed. 👣

17) Jungkook knows his limit when he makes fun of Jimin, always being there for his hyung when insecurity gets the better part of him and I think that’s very, very beautiful. 👣

18) It’s OBLIGATORY for me to include We Don’t Talk Anymore cover by JM and JK here. No explanation needed because I’m sure you feel the same way as I do.

19) When Jungkook waited for Jimin to complete the formation during his part in The Rise of Bangtan in Nanjing, then turned to Jimin and serenaded him.

Serenades Jimin…

Turns to fans…

20) Jungkook knows Jimin, remembers every single thing Jimin does better than the man himself. He’s quick to answer things pertaining to Jimin.

21) When Jimin fell down at Taipei airport, Jungkook wasn’t there because he was filming Flower Crew. He joined them a little while later for their Epilogue On Stage. However, on their way back to Korea, Jungkook made sure to stick close to Jimin and walked by his side until they checked in. The fact that Jungkook was there with him made me cry a little./okay lie/

22) When Jimin took a blanket and a soft, fluffy pillow and tucked Jungkook in, and made sure he’s comfortable enough. Also the fact that Jungkook didn’t even bother waking up and sleeping in the room.

23) The amount of times Jungkook and Jimin hang around with each other, usually accompanied by another member.

  • A date
  • Big Bang Concert with Hoseok
  • At the waterpark with Jin

  • Eating Ramen at Hangang with Namjoon

24) “오~갖고 싶다” (Oh, I want you) That iconic moment in Now3 need I say more.

25) When Jimin hung around behind the camera while Jungkook was getting interviewed. 👣

26) When Jungkook squished behind Jimin when Jimin got his photo taken even though he could’ve gone away and NOT be in the camera.(Fancafe content)

27) When Jimin picked up a slice of cake and fed Jungkook in Bon voyage.

28) Jungkook’s way of carrying Jimin up bridal-style during Limbo game still has me feeling some kind of way, and I will not get tired of seeing it, not anytime soon i bet. (Every time it appears on my feed I’ll stare at it for hours)

29) How Jungkook’s ears perk up whenever Jimin says something. He’s extra attentive when it comes to Jimin. I don’t know if Jimin’s melodic voice gets him or what, cause if it is, boy I feel you. Example: Run! BTS in the US, when Jimin screamed “엄마ㅏㅏㅏㅏㅏ~~~~” (mommy~~) because he’s scared of the roller coaster and Jungkook was like “왜?” (why?)

30) When Jimin laughs an octave higher whenever Jungkook does something funny.

31) The way Jimin sat on Jungkook’s lap and how tight Jungkook pressed him against his chest in Summer Package Dubai.

32) Jungkook didn’t bother about the fans’ parents who sat across him because he needed to make his hyung look good and that was all that mattered.

33) After Jungkook hurt his back at Mama, Jimin took care of him at the airport, gently keeping his hand on Jungkook’s back the whole time they were walking.

34) The fact that Jungkook and Jimin monitor each others’ scenes when they’re filming, waiting around and constantly giving support.

35) When Jungkook and Jimin held hands on stage.

36) The No More Dream lift that has changed over the last couple of years.

37) That moment Jimin made siren sound when Hoseok told everyone that his sister liked Jungkook. I find it cute. (Sukira)

38) When Jimin and Jungkook being lovey-dovey at Manila Airport. 👣

39) Jungkook and Jimin still had their own photoshoot even though they’re both paired up with someone else. Also the iconic “Jeomsoon-ah, please be my baby’s mom” by Park Jimin.

40) Jungkook randomly barging in and interrupting Jimin’s vlive and just….the immense amount of flirting and eye-fucking throughout the whole video…caught me off guard. 👣

41) No matter how many times Jungkook messed around with him, Jimin didn’t have the heart to say stop. He couldn’t say no to Jungkook; that’s how soft he is for the maknae. But yea, speaking quite frankly, Jungkook didn’t even try. There are million other ways to piss someone off but what he did? nope, that’s not how you do it,boy haha. (Run BTS spy episode)

42) And it took 0.000001 sec for Jimin to say thank you to Jungkook. Although Jungkook kept telling him he’s handsome, something he rarely does, Jimin still couldn’t catch on;Still became flustered and shy afterward. It made me asdfjkl. (Undercover mission in Japan)

43) I love Jungkook’s determination. Jk’s inner monologue: I have to make Jimin hyung wear this goddamn headband *gets on his back and forces him to wear it*

44) When Jungkook pinched Jimin’s nipple the instant Jimin went in for a hug lol. (Fancafe content)

45) Jungkook and Jimin have no chills when they’re seated together at fansigning events. They pay attention to each other more than they do to their fans. (don’t get me wrong they still love their fans)

46) When Jimin pretended to be mad at Jungkook for not sitting beside him at a fansign, and how Jungkook played along,claiming his current seat was his original seat when it’s not lol.

47) When Jungkook snatched the snack from Hoseok’s hand for himself, but stopped and gave it to Jimin instead when Jimin asked to be fed.

48) The various times Jimin snakes his slightly smaller hands around Jungkook’s waist and shoulder, and sometimes when it seems that Jimin has difficulty standing after putting his hand on Jungkook’s arm, Jungkook would bend to better accommodate him.

look at him tiptoeing…

49) When Jimin back-hugged Jungkook (and kissed his shoulder from what i saw).

50) The cutest nicknames they gave for one another. 👣

Ooops…

Okay pause. I’m afraid I’ll have to break it down into two parts, as seeing how freaking long this has gotten ahaha. Part 2 will be posted really really soon~~~

little monster | (m)

Originally posted by gotjimin

pairing: park jimin x reader | feat. kim namjoon
genre/warnings: smut, voyeurism sort-of, auralism? masturbation, teasing, switch themes
words: 8,844
summary: you’ve been good friends with your roommate Jimin for a while, occasionally flirting with each other, especially when you’ve had a drink, but nothing has ever happened between the two of you…until that is, he secretly listens to you and Namjoon have sex one day…He thinks you don’t know, but he’s wrong…
note. based on a request.

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@thunderboltsortofapenny said: No no let’s do this! Why would steve need to be fake married. Or why would bucky need to be fake married to Steve. We need a reason. #Viper do the thing #It’ll be fun!

So I did the thing, and it’s stupid and terrible, but here, have it:


Bucky’s an EMT. Normal guy, just living his life, trying to help where he can. And then one day, all of a sudden, the aliens are invading NYC, and Bucky’s out there helping, right in the middle of the danger zone because of course he is.

There’s a fight going on, and a bunch of freaks in weird suits seem to be fighting the aliens, but Bucky doesn’t have much time to focus on anything other than all the people in dire need of medical attention. He does what he can to help, grabs the first metal bar he can find and fights only the aliens getting in his way, and works himself to exhaustion. Then there’s a blast, and it sends a man flying right into the wall next to him.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky asks, rushing to help him, and though Bucky could’ve sworn the blow was hard enough to crush anyone’s ribs, he’s surprised to see the man–who must’ve been on his way to a costume party–stand up practically unscathed.

He’s got broad shoulders and a strong jaw and eyes of the prettiest shade of blue Bucky’s ever seen, and even with his face covered in soot and grime and blood, Bucky’s heart skips a beat.

For a few seconds the man seems a bit disoriented, then he finally registers Bucky’s presence. “What are you doing here?? Get out of the streets!”

“I was–” Bucky starts, and is cut off by an explosion right above their heads and a bunch of debris raining down on them, and a hand shoving him aside.

When he comes to, which is a surprise in itself, the dust has started to clear, and the man who’s clearly saved his life is carrying him as if he weighed nothing, concern in those beautiful eyes and a big, warm hand pressed tenderly against Bucky’s neck, checking for a pulse.

He locks eyes with Bucky and sighs in relief, the hint of a smile on his plush lips, but the hand remains where it is. “Hi,” he says. “You all right?”

“Y-yeah… Thank you,” Bucky replies, but he doesn’t move to free himself of the man’s arms. His stomach is doing something weird, and the man surely has other people to rescue, but for a few seconds they both just stay there, shell-shocked and staring at each other like the world around them has stopped.

Then something blows up nearby, and the spell is broken.

Carefully, the man helps him to his feet, makes sure Bucky’s in one piece, and then says, “Find shelter, okay? Stay inside.”

Bucky’s not planning to, but he can’t find it in him to tell that to this incredible man, so he slowly licks his lips and nods. Before turning around to leave, the man offers him a small, shy smile.

- - - - -

During the next few weeks after the Chitauri attack on NYC, every single piece of footage of the Avengers fighting against the aliens and helping civilians goes viral. Phone videos, security cameras, blurry pics.

The most popular, by far, is a snapshot of Captain America carrying a guy, who can be seen fighting aliens and helping people in other videos, bridal style, thumb caressing his jaw, and both looking like lovestruck teenagers.

Bucky can’t go to the grocery store or even do his job without being stalked by the paparazzi or Cap’s groupies or just random people wanting to know what his Avenger name is, and for how long he’s been dating Captain America.

- - - - -

“You’ve ruined my life!!” Bucky tells him, because of course, of course Captain America would pick Bucky’s park for his morning run. Of course Bucky’d slip on wet leaves on the pavement precisely this morning, and of fucking course Captain America would just happen to be around to catch him at just the right time. Bucky’s seeing red.

“I’m sorry,” Captain America says, and it’s extremely unfair just how genuine and how much like a kicked puppy he looks.

Christ, Bucky wants to punch him.

- - - - -

Steve’s been living in PR hell.

He’s spent the past weeks “saving” girls and boys alike from getting hit by a bicycle, or fainting, or a fuckton of equally stupid shit.

The second anyone spots Captain America, there’ll suddenly be some kind of dangerous situation going down, and someone hoping Cap will carry them bridal style to safety and maybe fall head over heels in love with them in the process.

Steve is tired and done and ready to get back in the ice for another few decades, and shares Pepper’s worries that someone might actually put themself in real danger soon.

“We should handle this before it gets worse,” Nat says. And Steve agrees, of course, but he just doesn’t know how.

“Just marry the guy,” Clint suggests.

Steve almost chokes to death on his own spit.

“WHAT?”

Clint shrugs. “Why not? Half the world already thinks you’re dating…”

“Clint, he hates me…”

“Only cause people keep pestering him about this. If you two get married it’ll be a circus, but then it’ll blow over. He can’t even do his job right now, right? So you pay the guy for the trouble, yadda yadda, then when this is over you two get a quick divorce, and that’s it. Problem solved.”

For two minutes, no one else opens their mouth. Then:

“He’s got a point…”

“Tony, no,” Steve whines.

“You saw the footage, how he was helping those civilians… If you have to marry someone, he’s not a bad candidate,” Nat says, and then smirks. “Plus, he’s cute.”

Steve already knows he’s lost this battle, but that doesn’t help him feel any better about this. Yes, he’s cute. Yes, he’s a brave and kind and smart guy. Yes, Steve could very easily pretend to be married to him for a while and yes it’d help them both. None of that’s the problem.

The problem is that he kind of really likes the guy.

The problem is that the guy hates him.

This is a really, really bad idea.

Involved

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: i honestly don’t know if i like this or not but like……..fwb peter

Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

Originally posted by peterbparkerr

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Imagine Jeff being scared to take your virginity

Originally posted by knightlley

WARNINGS: Fluff, light smut

Jeff Atkins x reader

A/N (I can take any request from anything you guys want, message me, lmk!)


“Hey babe!”

Jeff kisses me as I opened the door for him to my house. My parents are out of town and I promised him l’ll help him study for his midterm. Not that my parents would care, they practically love him since we’ve been dating.

“Hey hot stuff, you can just through your stuff in my room while I get us something to eat”

As he jogs upstairs I quickly fix my hair and adjust my pajama shorts. I usually don’t care how I look around my boyfriend, but we’ve been dating for 5 months now and hasn’t even mentioned the thought of having sex with me. I pick up some chips and go upstairs where he is already laying out his textbooks.

“So we can start with World War 1 then go from there” he says as he’s looking at his book.

“Yeah sure, we can probably get through a few wars tonight.”

I jump on the bed and lay close to him. He looks up at me and smiles.

“You seem like your in a good mood, what’s up?”

“I can’t be happy to see my boyfriend?”

“You see me everyday baby”

“So you aren’t happy to see me” I fake pout.

“Shut up babe, you know I am.” He says as he pecks my lips.

“Yeah yeah” I smile. “let’s start with studying before we get tired”


“So that is what started the war?”

“Yes, but don’t forget how long the world ended”

“Yeah it lasted for 4 years.”

“Good, I’m actually a pretty good teacher”

“Your alright”

“Shut up” I laugh as I lightly punch him in the arm.

He laughs as he looks down at me. He glances down at my lips then quickly averts back to my eyes. I do the same, but make it known I’m looking at his beautiful lips. 

“Okay” he coughs. “at this rate we can g-”

I cut Jeff off by grabbing his face and smashing my lips on his. He seemed surprised at first then slowly closed his eyes. I slowly moved my hands around his neck as he put his on my leg and waist. As he deepened the kiss, he swung one of my legs on the other side of him so that I was now cradling him. As the kiss got more intense, I felt him moan against my lips. I needed air so I took that chance to take my shirt and bra off. His eyes were intensely locked on my chest and I couldn’t help but flush.

“You’re so beautiful y/n”

With that Jeff swung us over and pulled off his shirt. He went to my neck and chest and started planting soft kisses. As I slid my hands up and down his bare back, he started sucking harshly on my sweet spot. His hands started roaming my bare chest as he lightly squeezed. 

“Jeeeff” I moaned.

He looked down at me biting his lip as I started tugging his pants down. He threw them off and went back to kissing me. He kissed me so slow and passionately and I loved it. I started to kiss his neck and lightly grabbed him through his underwear feeling how extremely hard he was. he groaned at my touch and that made me crazy. I just wanted him already. I needed him.

“Jeff” I asked in between our kisses as he went back to my neck.

“Yes princess”

“Do you have a…you know….a-a” I slightly moaned.

“A…a condom?” 

“Yes” I said kind of embarrassed. 

He then stopped and slowly got off of me. Confused I sat up and pulled the sheets up to cover myself. 

“Did I say something wrong?” 

His back was faced towards me as he slouched over the edge of my bed.

“No, I’m sorry I just can’t do this right now” 

I’d be lying if I say that didn’t kind of hurt coming from him. I mean I thought it but I didn’t think he’d say it.

“You don’t want to have sex with me” my voice cracking as I put back on my shirt.

He snaps his head around and climbs back on the bed grabbing my hand.

“No no, god no, that’s not even close trust me.”

“Then why? I don’t understand” I look down.

He grabs my face and sighs.

“I’m scared okay”

“Scared?” I say kind of amused.

“Yes, don’t laugh, I’m the scared one. I’m scared to take something so precious from you. Scared to let you down after and I’m scared that you’ll regret it.”

He lets go of my face and focuses his gaze to the wall to hide his embarrassment. It’s now my turn to grab his face.

“Jeffrey, you don’t get it do you? you’re the precious one to me. I want you to be the one to take it because I love you”

He looks up at me and cheeses.

“I love you more princess.”

“So what does this mean now?”

“Well right now, nothing cause I have to go the bathroom to handle a little mess in my pants cause of you”

I try to hold in my laugh as he runs to the bathroom in my room 

“Sorry babe!”

In The World

Katsuki Yuuri is a puzzle, one Viktor is always happy to go back to, sliding long fingers over the pieces. Yet every time he thinks he’s worked it out, he realizes there’s no edge to the puzzle, no end, and everything rearranges.

“Yuuri,” he calls, “what’s this?”

The dark mess of hair and pajamas emerges from the bedroom, rubbing his eyes. “Origami.”

“Was there some kind of craft fair near our house yesterday?”

“I made it,” Yuuri mutters. An intricate dragon, out of soft blue tissue paper, and Viktor’s fiance made it. “I needed something to do with my hands while I waited for the dashi to simmer.” For Yuuri, that’s the end of the discussion. No further explanation, just another piece of Yuuri’s history plucked mysteriously from the void. 

Yuuri can juggle. He can play piano. If his hands are steady and he’s given the right pen, he thoughtlessly sketches out calligraphy. When he sings to himself while Viktor soaps his back in the shower, he drifts between styles: Broadway showtunes, operatic Italian, Japanese lullabies. Knitting. Jump-rope. Shadow puppetry, when they’re feeling foolish under the covers of their king bed and waiting until they’re ready to… 

Viktor thinks he wouldn’t be surprised if Yuuri was capable of magic– but then Viktor would be lying to himself, because he was surprised when Yuuri pulled quarters from out of thin air, made Viktor’s ring disappear for a few moments from beneath a cup.

What can he not do?” Yurio hisses, half delighted and half serious, when he bites into homemade cake. Viktor wants to tell him he doesn’t know the half of it– he’s never played darts or cards with Yuuri, unlike poor Viktor Nikiforov. “How. How is it possible.”

“Darling,” Viktor probes, when he finds Yuuri spread over their living room floor one evening, whittling away at wood while sitting in his splits. “How do you… how do you know how to do all these things?”

“What? Oh, this?” Yuuri says, gesturing with his knife and carving that has only started to resemble Makkachin. “It’s silly.” Viktor wants to strangle him, quiet the easy dismissal– preferably with his lips. It’s not silly. You’re brilliant. “We got a lot of different people, coming through the onsen. Sometimes, if the room wasn’t ready yet or they asked for company, I sat with them. I didn’t like…” he pauses, bites at his lip, and scrapes off a shred of wood. “Talking is difficult? I’m not entertaining, that way. But everyone likes teaching, so I picked up a few things.”

A few. Their apartment is a shrine to Yuuri’s many accomplishments, both world-record-holding and minute. Origami and sketches and trophy cases, gleaming. Viktor is the religion’s most ardent follower.

“We’re going to have so much fun when we retire,” he realizes.

“Hmm?” Is Yuuri’s only reply. Makkachin’s tail is emerging beneath his hands. “Also, do you want a massage later, Vitya?” He doesn’t even have to ask. Viktor pads over, sits behind him and wraps arms around his fiance’s steady waist.

“Do you know what I want to be the best at,” he hums into Yuuri’s neck.

“You’re already the best at skating,” Yuuri states bluntly. Nipping at his neck, Viktor wordlessly scolds the current world record holder. Yuuri laughs, the steady strokes of his whittling knife faltering as he twists to catch Viktor’s lips. “What, Vitya?”

“I want to be the best at loving you,” Viktor whispers, and it’s a skill he’ll spend his entire life perfecting.

they call her maid maleen

for the first few trembling years of her life, she is a princess. she is the daughter to the king, born of his beloved wife and of her visage. her dark eyes have the appearance of a smoky quarts and her mother carefully twists her mass of black hair into a hundred small braids down her back. she is a beautiful, quiet child, and for a while all is well. they call her princess maleen.

then her mother dies. it seems as if the king is determined to bury his love for his daughter along with his queen. he moves her to a different wing of the castle, and refuses to see her. her tutors are let go, and the nobles’ children are no longer allowed to play with her. only the maids look after her now.

the king remarries. the new queen gives birth to a son, and maleen is forgotten completely, banished from a home she still resides in and a life she can now only watch unfold.

the maids take care of her, braid her hair and kiss the blisters on her fingers, teach her to scrub at porcelain and polish silver, to clean a fireplace and mop polished marble floors.

they call her maid maleen.

~

the king has a son by his new wife, and then a daughter. they are pale and fair-haired like their mother, with only their dark eyes to show they are the king’s children. but they inherit none of their parents’ beauty, have faces that don’t look quite right and bodies that get stuck between gangly and chubby and never settle into one or the other. princess gisella and prince jan are privately regarded as unfortunate products of a lovely union.

maid maleen spends long hours working, and has neither the time nor funds for creams to soften her skin or oils to care for her hair, has never used face powder or lip color.

maid maleen is twenty three years old, and the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.

her braids are wrapped carefully atop her head, but when she lets them loose they hang past her hips. her dark skin is made even darker thanks to long hours working in the palace garden, and her eyes have never lost that same curious light. she walks straight and strong, years of hard labor giving her muscles and definition to her body that she never would have had as a princess. boys and girls give her long, considering looks and flirtatious smiles, and nobles have to double-take when she passes them by.

no one speaks of it anymore. but maid maleen looks ever more like her beautiful late mother, has the same eyes as her father, and dressing in ill-fitting cast offs and running her ragged can’t hide the truth.

maid maleen is the king’s daughter.

she has accepted her life as a maid in the palace she was one day set to inherit, and tries to see it as a gift. she sleeps with who she likes, may marry whichever of the charming boys from the city who’s smile she likes best. in the maids who raised her she has more mothers than she has fingers, and perhaps she longs for the days when she was a small princess, when she was the apple of her parents’ eye, when the whole of their nation was to be hers to inherit.

but then the blacksmith’s daughter lets her hands linger a little too long on her wrists, and maleen knows that she won’t be sleeping alone tonight. there are some things that worth more to her than a throne she was born to. she doesn’t miss the little girl she used to be.

until.

tensions have always run high between their kingdom and the neighboring one – too many squabbles over borders, over trade agreements, over patrols, over anything and everything the kings can find a reason to be upset about, it seems like. so when prince wolfgang is sent over, the whole palace is abuzz. the prince seems determined to inherit a peaceful land, and is coming over to talk with the king to do it.

maleen does not care for princes. nor for nobles of any rank, in fact. she remembers how they turned on her, she sees the small acts of pettiness and cruelty they thoughtlessly inflict on their servants, and she wants nothing to do with it. commoners may not be as educated as nobles, may not have as many objects to call their own, but maleen finds she prefers their company to that of lords. she’s uninterested in this prince, which is perhaps why she’s the one that gets sent to his rooms. her moms can trust that she at least won’t fawn over him.

“sir wolfgang,” she murmurs, pushing open his door and giving a low curtsy, keeping her eyes trained on his mud covered boots. “is there anything you require?”

silence. she can only stay bent in a curtsey so long before she loses patience. she’s almost given up on him, is about to cut her losses and call it a night when he says, hesitant, “queen sabine?”

her mother’s name is punch to her gut, and her head snaps up at the sound of it, the rolling fire of her temper bubbling just below her skin. “i am maid maleen,” she snaps, then tacks on “your highness,” after a moment’s consideration.

his cloak is half unbuttoned as he stares at her with a slack mouth. she supposes he would not look unhandsome if he were not currently doing his best to imitate a frog. he appears to be only a handful of years older than she is, and if she were not furious she would be impressed that he remembers her mother well enough to see sabine in her.

“maleen,” he repeats, and for a moment she wonders if he will recognize her as well, but he only says, “my apologies. if you would help me with my cloak, i would be much obliged.”

she’s instantly suspicious. she’s met nice nobles before, ones that were considerate and remembered her name and thanked her when she brought them wine. but she’s never met a nice prince before – they’re always of the worst sort. “yes, your highness,” she says, and the cloak is soaked through and clinging, it’s no wonder he’s struggling with it. once she’s gotten it off she hangs it to dry, then goes back to him. she slaps away his numb, struggling fingers and undoes the rest of the buckles and loops of his overly complicated clothing. she’s gotten down him down to an undershirt and pants when his hands grab hers. she blinks and looks up. he has freckles dusting across his nose.

“this is inappropriate,” he says, but honestly she’s stripped a lot of nobles, it wasn’t weird until he took her hands and looked at her like no one’s ever looked at her before.

“yes, your highness,” she agrees, and takes a step back. she places his clothes in front of a fire, curtsies, and leaves. she can feel the weight of his gaze on her all the way back to her room.

wolfgang continues his diplomatic agenda, having long meetings with the royal family. after, maleen goes and tends to him, setting out his food and taking care of his clothes, straightening up any mess that he’s made. at first he’s quiet, and he just watches her, but he quickly discovers that maleen has opinions and thoughts and isn’t afraid to share them. soon they’re debating the finer points of trade routes and arguing the effectiveness of a sliding tax scale, and maleen comes to cherish the evenings she spends with the prince, likes the way he speaks to her and looks at her, likes the shape of his smile.

weeks in she enters his room, dinner steaming in her hands and eager to continue their conversation about state funded orphanages versus a state funded foster system. he’s pacing and tense, shoulder stiff. “wolfgang,” she sets down the food and wipes her hands on her apron, “is something wrong?”

“is it true?” he asks, and he’s not looking at her. he’s always looked at her before.

“is what true?” she flinches away from his coldness, is already preparing to retreat and hide and beg someone else to watch over him.

he turns to her, and she’s baffled by the mixture of hope and anger on his face. “are you the king’s daughter? are you princess maleen?”

she takes a step back, “i am maid maleen.”

“please,” he follows her as she steps away from him, and her back hits the wall. he stops when he’s almost close enough to touch. “my father sent me here with the goal to seal our new treaty with a marriage. he expects me to marry princess gisella. but if you are the daughter of the king – then he will allow me to marry you instead!”

“who says i want to marry you?” she retorts, but he gets on bended knee and she freezes.

he holds a hand for her own, and against every bit of logic, she gives it to him. “maleen, i’ve never felt this way about anyone. i was willing enough to enter a loveless marriage before i knew what true love is, but now i do, and i can’t go back. marry me.”

she wants to. she thinks she loves him. she hadn’t been planning to fall in love with anyone. “i am the king’s daughter,” she tells him, “but i am no princess. i haven’t been a princess in a long time.”

he brings her hand to his mouth so he can kiss each one of her knuckles, “then we’ll have to change that.”

~

wolfgang goes to the king to make his case, to return maleen to her birthright and allow her to marry him.

it goes even worse than maleen had feared.

her father is furious. he’s so angry at the audacity of this request that prince wolfgang is thrown from the kingdom. so incensed is he, that guards drag maleen from her bed in the middle of the night and throw her into a tower. the door closes shut behind them, and she bangs on it and screams but no one comes for her.

there are no windows, and only one door with a sliding metal grate in the bottom. she’s high in the tower, she thinks, from the number of steps she’d been forced to climb, but she stands on a dirt floor. the room contains only the bare minimum needed for survival, and nothing more.

once a week food is slid through the slot in the door. she has to be careful, because if she eats it too fast they will not provide more, she will just starve. days turn to weeks turn to months, and she despairs of ever being let out of this tower. months turn to years, and she gives up hope entirely of leaving this tower. she considers refusing to eat, killing herself slowly through starvation, because death is preferable to life locked in this tower.

one night there’s a scuffle, and shouting, and for the first time since she was shoved inside the door opens. there’s a guard standing there, and princess gisella tentatively steps inside. “maid ma – i mean, maleen?”

maleen stares. this is the first time she’s seen another person in years, and suddenly for all the screaming she’d done she can’t find her voice. gisella takes another cautious step forward, “maleen, please – we don’t have much time.” she holds out her hand, “come with me.”

gisella is sixteen now. although she’ll never be a great beauty, she’s grown into many of the features that she was once mocked for. “where?” she asks, but takes gisella’s hand and lets her lead them down the twisting staircase. anyplace is better than the tower.

“i’m to be married in a week’s time to prince wolfgang.” maleen feels a sharp pain go through her chest. had wolfgang forgotten her? their farce of a romance was such a quick, shallow thing. she was a fool to fall for it in the first place. “i’m not going to show up. you are.”

she stares, “what?”

“wolfgang started a war over father locking you in the tower,” she explains, “but eventually it got to a point where neither could justify it, so our father and wolfgang’s decided our union would mean peace between our countries, as intended. but i don’t want to marry prince wolfgang, and he does not want to marry me.”

“i don’t understand,” she hadn’t paid much attention to the girl when they were in the palace together, and she’s regretting that now.

they finally reach the end of the tower. it’s the first time she’s breathed fresh air in years. she tries not to get distracted by it, and instead focuses on the carriage to her left, and the pure black mare laden like a pack mule on her right. “i’m leaving,” gisella says, “i don’t want to be wolfgang’s bride because i want to be klaus’s,” the guard smiles, and he must be klaus, the princess is rejecting a prince to run away with a commoner. “there’s a map and everything you need in the saddlebags. the wedding dress is waiting for you at the castle. no one will know you’re not me until wolfgang unveils you, and by then it will be too late. he will marry you, and i will be gone.”

“why are you doing this?” she asks.

gisella shrugs, “you’re my sister, and father is an idiot. i want you to be happy, and i want wolfgang to be happy, and i want to be happy too. this way we all get what we want. our brother will be waiting for you in wolfgang’s castle. he’ll help you.”

maleen is speechless. gisella grabs her in a quick hug – the only one they’ve ever shared – and then goes to the carriage with klaus trailing behind her. “i’ll see you again, princess maleen!”

she doesn’t have time for tears. she gets on the mare, and rides for the palace of the neighboring land.

~

she makes it just in time. she sneaks into the castle the night before the wedding, ducking around servants until she find her way to jan’s door. she knocks, tentative, wondering if this was a mistake and all one elaborate trap. but the door opens and his face slackens in relief, “finally!” he pulls her inside, and sits her down. there’s lukewarm water waiting for her so she can clean herself, and jan stands with his back to her the whole time, outlining the wedding and how it will go so she knows what to expect the next day. “father isn’t here,” he assures her, “he didn’t want to leave the kingdom, so i’m here in his stead.”

“won’t you miss your sister?” maleen finishes washing and wraps herself in a soft blanket.

“when i am king, gisella will return,” he says confidently, “she will come home and bring klaus, and you will rule here with wolfgang, and all will be well. our countries shall be great allies when it is me and wolfgang on the throne.”

he’s only a year older than gisella, just seventeen, and maleen feels oddly old next to them, feels old next to these children who know what they want and take it and don’t let anything stand in their way.

“we need to get your hair rebraided,” he says, “you should look perfect tomorrow. it’s your wedding day.”

she stares, aghast. “that will take all night!”

“i’ve brought help,” he says, and sends a servant down the hall. the servant returns with a half dozen of the maids who raised her, and who crowd forward and hug her and kiss her cheeks and say how much they’ve missed her. princess or not, bride or not, to them she will always be their little maid maleen.

~

it’s clear gisella picked her wedding dress with maleen in mind. it fits her for one thing, and is clinging and heavy, and it must have looked awful on gisella, but on her it’s perfect. her dress is accompanied by white silk gloves and a thick veil so that no one can see her, so that no one will know she’s not the daughter of the king they’re expecting to be there.

wolfgang is at the end of the aisle, looking like he’s going to an execution, and it takes more self control than maleen was anticipating not to go running to him. she turns to him, and he lifts her veil. he sees her and freezes, mouth sliding open. she winks at him, because they just need to keep it together until they’re married, he just has to keep his cool for a few minutes and they’ll have won it all. wolfgang closes his mouth and says nothing about how this is clearly not the bride he was supposed to marry. they turn so none of the guests can see them, and the priest gives maleen a confused look, but with a glare from wolfgang he continues on with the ceremony as if nothing is out of place.

“you may now kiss the bride,” the priest says, after what seems like an eternity.

wolfgang grabs her about the waist, dips her, and kisses her soundly on the mouth. her veil falls off and she can hear the horrified and shocked gasps of the guests, and under that jan’s laughter. when they break apart, foreheads still pressed together, she whispers, “hello, prince wolfgang.”

he kisses her again, quick and sweet, and does nothing at all to disguise the joy in his face. “hello, princess maleen.”

and they all lived happily ever after.


read more retold fairytales here

Try Me

Request from anon for a Jax x Reader where the reader is Unser’s daughter, and Hale keeps flirting with her so she asks Jax to pretend to be her boyfriend to get him to back off. Enjoy the smut ;)

A/N - I’ve done this a little differently to my other fake boyfriend/girlfriend imagines, as I don’t want to seem repetitive :)

Originally posted by journeyslegend

“You don’t even know me. Get to know me, I promise I’ll change your mind.” You’re glad your back is turned as you roll your eyes in annoyance, not sure how long you’re going to be able to keep up the nice girl attitude for.

Turning to face the determined officer, you smile apologetically, your following answer the same as it always is. “Thanks for the offer again David, but I’m not sure things would work between us.”

“Why? Why do you always say that?” he asks, frustration heavy in his tone, his hand on your car door to stop you from leaving. “Is it because of the MC?”

“No-” You open your mouth to start denying his claims, trying to think of another reason not to go out with a dude that you just don’t find yourself attracted to, when you come up with the perfect solution. “Actually, yes. You’re completely right.”

“Listen, I know you’re close with them, but they’re bad people, (Y/N). You could do so much better.” Here he goes again, you think. Same speech as always. He doesn’t even know SAMCRO like you do, nobody does.

“Thanks for the lecture, David, but Jax asked me to be his girlfriend a couple weeks ago, and I said yes.” The pure horror on his face has you biting your lip to contain your smirk. “See you around.”

Walking into the clubhouse, you scan the room swiftly, not spotting the man you’re hoping to see. “He around, Sack?”

“In the apartments.” he responds, walking into the kitchen with a pair of rubber gloves and a plunger. You grimace, knowing Piney’s probably blocked the bog again. Shaking your head, you walk towards Jax’s residence, knocking on the closed door.

“Room service.” you call sarcastically, your voice sickly sweet. The door opens within a few seconds, Jax’s eyebrow raised, his lips turned up into a grin.

“Lucky me, though you’re slightly overdressed for the kind of ‘room service’ I’m used to.” he says, opening the door to let you in. “Wasn’t expecting to see you till’ later on.”

“I know, but I need to talk to you about a little favour so I thought I’d grace you with my wonderful company.” you tease, plonking yourself down on Jax’s bed. Shutting the door, he sits on a box in front of you, pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket.

“You can just admit you missed me, babe.” He takes a drag, your eyes capturing the way his cheeks hollow as he inhales the smoke, the action stopping your train of thought. “What do you need me for this time, Princess?“

“Are you ever going to drop that nickname? You’ve called it me for years.” He grins cheekily, the smoke parting from his pink lips as he shakes his head at you, knowing deep down you love the endearment. “Anyway-”

A knock on Jax’s door stops you, the two of you turning to see Chibs’. “Sorry to interrupt. Cops are here.”

“Could they be any further up our asses?” Jax spits rhetorically, discarding his cigarette in an ashtray on his cabinet before standing up. You follow him as he leaves the room, Chibs leading the way as the three of you head out to the front. All you’re thinking is please don’t be Hale.

You curse silently as you see the man himself standing against his police car, Jax tensing up as he sets eyes on the deputy. “You’re here so much I’m starting to think you wanna patch in.”

Hale just scowls, his eyes shifting to you as you move from behind Jax, stepping to take position between the Scot and the VP. He watches you for a moment, and you know Jax catches it as you see him look at you questioningly, a pleading look on your face as you hope he just follows your lead.

“We got a call about a guy on a motorcycle running a red light a few blocks from here.” You sigh in disbelief, having a sneaking suspicion that his visit is more out of spite than anything else. “Just here to check your plates.”

“Jesus, how bad did you piss off my dad to go from murders to speeding tickets?” you sass, folding your arms across your chest. Chibs chokes down his chuckle from next to you, taking a drag from his cig to keep down his humour.

“I’m here because it’s my job, (Y/N), to make Charming a safer place for our citizens.” You roll your eyes, nodding slowly. “Something bothering you?”

“Woah, I thought you were here for us, not for the chief’s daughter. Check your plates and you can be on your way.” Jax states protectively, not liking the way Hale is speaking to you. The officer glares in response, his hand moving to rest on the handcuffs on his belt.

“I wonder how the chief would feel if he knew what you were up to with his daughter.” Hale snaps, his whole entity dripping with jealousy. You swallow nervously, trying to hide the anxiety from your face.

Chibs laughs loudly this time, a laugh so loud with amusement that you can’t help but smile. “Jackie, you naughty boy.”

You share a look with your ‘boyfriend’, him smirking, a cocky grin spreading across his face. You let out the breath you’ve been holding in, Jax’s reaction of enjoyment rather than horror making you feel confident in your lie.

“Oh, I get it now. You’ve got a soft spot for my girl here, and you’re pissed she chose me over you.” Jax says, rolling his tongue over his lower lip smugly. “Not that you were even an option.”

“You watch your mouth, Teller.” Hale warns, his eye twitching as he steps up to Jax, the tension heavy between the two men.

“Or what?” Jax challenges, anger radiating off him in waves.

“We got a problem here, boys?” The voice of your dad cuts through the ever brewing argument, him smiling at you loving before turning his attention back to the two amped up males. “Hale, you’re not stationed to be here.“

You, Chibs and Jax watch on as Hale turns into a flushed mess, having no decent excuse for ever coming to TM in the first place - though you all know why he did.

“Thanks, dad.” You hug your father as you speak, him squeezing you tightly before leaving you to it.

“So, something you need to tell me?” Jax asks as you sit on the bench outside, embarrassment crawling up your body. “Wasn’t aware I was taken, darlin’.”

He nudges you playfully, your hands covering your face as you groan. “He’s been pestering me for weeks, figured you were the best deterrent.”

“Thanks.” Jax deadpans, a small smirk on his face as he passes you the cig, you taking a drag as you think about what to say. “Glad I could be of service, I guess.”

“Thanks for going along with it. Guess I owe you one.” You tap off the ash and pass the stick back, biting your lip anxiously. “How about I do you a favor?”

“Sweetheart, no offence but the kind of favours I’d like to have you do for me aren’t exactly innocent.” You cough, his reply completely unexpected, your core tingling involuntarily.

“Try me.” you tease, your gaze flickering to his lips for just a second, your hand coming to rest on his thigh, fingertips inching upwards.

Next thing you know, the two of you are locked at the lips, thankful that the clubhouse is empty, the others off on runs and whatever else. “How long have we got?”

“Half hour, tops.” Jax mumbles, connecting his lips back to yours, his tongue in your mouth eliciting a moan from you. “I don’t see us lasting that long to be honest, darlin’.”

You squeal as you feel yourself being lifted, the pool table becoming your seat as Jax places you on top. You rip at his flannel, the buttons scattering all over the room. Your fingers explore up and down his chiseled chest as he begins to nibble and suck at your neck, your eyes closing in pleasure as he works his way down.

“Please, Jax…” you pant, your underwear positively soaked as his tongue slips over your exposed skin. He practically growls at your pleading, him ripping himself from you as he expertly undoes his jeans, the fabric pooling at his ankles, his boxers joining the denim.

Your eyes widen as his cock stands before you, you pressing your thighs together subconsciously as the ache grows stronger. “Like what you see, Princess?”

“Don’t get too smug, Jackson, gotta see if you can fuck me well enough, first.“ His hands pull at your shorts, you lifting your ass to help assist as he rids the material from your legs. Once he’s discarded the fabric somewhere across the room, he connects his lips back to yours, lifting and squeezing your ass as he moves to you to the edge of the table.

You barely feel him move your underwear to the side before he sinks into you, a gasp leaving your lips as he nuzzles into your neck, his teeth biting at your skin as he fills you up.

You dig your nails into his biceps as he moves out of you, slamming back in deeply. He pulls back, loving the expressions you make as he fucks you so well, the little moans and gasps leaving your lips making him want to explode there and then.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to feel you around me, (Y/N).” You place your hands behind you to steady yourself, your pussy feeling even wetter as he talks to you. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

“I’m so close, already. Fuck, just like that.” you whine as he hits all the right places, his strokes alternating in speed, but never lacking in power.

You rub your clit, clenching your pussy as you come, your mouth open yet nothing comes out. “That’s it, come for me, baby. Good girl.”

Jax grips the back of your neck as he speeds up his thrusts, his gaze locked on yours as he gets closer and closer to climaxing. You’re practically on fire as you feel another orgasm creeping up on you, the pure hunger in Jax’s eyes making you more sensitive than ever.

“Who knew you could take cock so well.” he whispers as he drills into you, a high pitched moan slipping from your lips. “Imagine if someone walked in right now, saw what a dirty slut you are, so desperate for me.”

His degrading words push you over the edge, a loud curse leaving you as stars fill your vision, Jax continuing to slam into you as he rides you through your high. “You gonna take my come, hm? Gonna let me fill you up like the good girl you are?”

“Yes, fuck, please Jax.” you plead desperately, your nails clawing down his stomach as he places hos forehead against your own, his eyes clenching shut as he let’s go.

He kisses you roughly as he comes inside of you, his hips gently rocking as his hot spurts shoot inside of you, your teeth sucking at his bottom lip.

He pulls out of you slowly, his juices and your own dripping from your satisfied pussy, your body feeling empty without his shaft inside of you.

Jax buckles up his pants, grabbing your shorts before lifting you up as if you weigh nothing. He carries you down the hall, just in time in fact as voices begin to fill the clubhouse.

Reaching his room, he places you down on the bed, his body crawling over yours as he moves a piece of hair from your face. “I’ve gotta go for a vote, but when I get back, we’re gonna see how sexy you look on your hands and knees.”

With that, he’s gone, leaving you shaken and hungry for more.

A/N - It’s been a whileeeeeee since I wrote some smut, but I’m so glad with how this turned out!!!! Hope you guys likeddddddd xxxx

Tantalizing: 07

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08
Ship: Jungkook | Reader
Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.
Warning: Dom!Jungkook, Intercourse, Oral, Blowjob, Hair Pulling, Tons of Fucking Angst, Masturbating, Exhibitionism, Overstimulation, Slight Degrading Names?
Word Count: 6,631

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Protection - Zach Dempsey

Originally posted by void-obriens

Summary: You spend your Friday evening at Bryce’s party with Zach as your “Date”, but things went wrong…

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual assault (very slightly), Angst, Drunk

Words: 888

A/N: Hiya, I’m finally back with an update! I was pretty busy those last weeks with watching 13 Reasons why & school, and now I’m finally back with an imagine; I hope you will enjoy my shitty writing skill. There are some mistakes since I wrote this in a rush. (gonna fix it soon)

MASTERLIST

Wanna request something? 


Loud music was blasting through the speaker, filling the room with a deafening volume while people dancing body against body probably too drunk to realised that they are dancing with a person they hated once, I only could shake my head while seeing everybody drunk and having fun, even throwing a party after everything that happened in these last weeks.

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miraculance  asked:

Hey, happy birthday! :) How about a drabble based on that prompt that went around once, about lance's feelings being enhanced by some space flower and he spends a day or two mooning over keith with keith thinking it's just a temporary thing? I hope you had a great day!

i’ve never seen this prompt so it might not be exactly right but here you go! 

“He’s gonna be fine,” Pidge reassures Keith for the hundredth time, but Keith isn’t sure he believes her. “Stop asking if you’re not gonna believe me,” she adds, which makes him squint suspiciously at her. “I’m not reading your mind, you’re just obvious. So is the reason you’re asking me about this over and over.” 

“I’m just – Lance is a paladin, we need him to be functional to be a team,” Keith says, crossing his arms. He glances across the room where Coran is talking to Lance, still surprised when he meets Lance’s eyes despite the fact that Lance has been staring at him since they got back to the castle. Lance doesn’t blink, doesn’t even look embarrassed to be caught staring – he just grins brightly at Keith and waves a little. Keith flushes hot and then glares at Pidge when she laughs. “He’s not okay, Pidge, look at him.” 

“Looks normal to me,” Pidge mutters. Keith shoots her a look and she sighs. “It was just some weird space plant that messed with his neurotransmitters. It’s not dangerous, it’ll work through his system in a day or so. Coran isn’t worried, you shouldn’t be either.” 

But Keith does worry, especially when Lance sits close to him in the common area later and says, “Hey.” His voice is low, and it strokes down Keith’s spine like a fingertip. He shivers a little, but looks up at Lance despite himself. 

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” Lance says dismissively. “I wanted to spend time with you.” He ducks his head and peers at Keith. “You know, you’ve got really pretty eyes.” 

“I – what?” Keith stammers, feeling his face heat up.

“You’re really cute,” Lance says, smiling. It’s not a smirk, not the way it usually is when Lance flirts with people. He looks like he’s saying something as if it were a well-known fact, a given. “You worrying about me is especially cute.” 

“I–” Keith says, at a loss for words. “I – this is just that plant thing talking–” 

“Plant thing? I was talking about you, Keith,” Lance says, brow furrowing. “Are you feeling okay?” He scoots closer and puts a hand against Keith’s forehead. Keith can feel his ears burning. “You’re warm,” Lance murmurs. 

“I’ve got to – I have to go now,” Keith says loudly. He stands up, and ignores the vaguely hurt pout Lance sends his way, and barricades himself in his room for the rest of the night. You have pretty eyes echoes over and over in his head throughout the rest of the night.

The next morning, Lance doesn’t show up to breakfast. After a while, Hunk begs for Keith to take him something to eat in case he started feeling ill. When Keith protests, saying someone else should go, Pidge says, “You were the one worrying about him.” 

So Keith knocks on Lance’s door with a bowl of good in one hand, and it stays closed for a disconcertingly long time, until eventually it whooshes open. Lance takes one look at him and turns scarlet. 

“Oh god,” he says, sounding terrified. 

“Um,” Keith says, because this is the exact opposite reaction he was expecting. 

“Oh my god,” Lance repeats. He covers his face with his hands and sighs. “Of course. Okay, yeah, might as well.” He takes the bowl of goo from Keith and sets it on a table near the door. He faces Keith again and looks him dead in the eye. “I’m sorry about last night.” 

Keith’s stomach sinks, any lingering hope that maybe it hadn’t been the plant dissipating immediately. “Right,” he says quietly. “Of course.” 

“It was really inappropriate,” Lance continues, looking pained. “We’re – you and I are partners, and friends, and that stupid plant just made me say things that I’ve been – I didn’t want you to find out like that, and I’m sorry–”

“Wait,” Keith says, frowning. “Find out – what do you mean?”

“That plant thing made me say whatever was on my mind,” Lance says. “Like, not a truth serum thing but just – my inhibitions were lowered. Didn’t – didn’t Pidge explain it to you?” 

“No,” Keith says, but he really had been paying more attention to Lance than Pidge, to be fair. 

“Oh my god,” Lance groans, running a hand through his hair. “I could have just – you didn’t know. But now you know. God, I look like such an idiot–” 

He looks so miserable that Keith can’t help but reach out, touching his arm gently. Lance goes completely still and looks at him, wide-eyed. “Uh,” Keith says, heart beating out of his chest. “It’s, um, cute. You – worrying. About me.” It’s not nearly as smooth as Lance had been, but Keith doesn’t have the advantage of being loose-lipped because of some weird space plant. 

Lance gapes at him, but only for a moment – after a second of comprehension, a smile starts at the corners of his mouth and curls in. He’s still flushed, but he looks more like the Lance Keith is used to. “Well,” Lance says, leaning against his door. “What else do I look cute doing?” 

“Ugh,” Keith says, but he’s grinning too. 

Dean’s Plaid

Summary: You and Dean do NOT get along. Until the night that you do.

Warning: smut, anger sex

Word Count: 3200

A/N: Hope y’all enjoy some Dean smut! XOXO

There are two things in the world you really hate: plaid and Dean Winchester.

There are plenty of things that you don’t like, that irritate and annoy you, that you’d rather not deal with. But those are the only two things you actively hate. A store with a window display of plaid clothing is enough to get your blood boiling these days. And Dean? Well, you make sure you never think of Dean. That just tailspins your world into a mess of violent anger for days before it wears off.

So the fact that you are currently wearing one of Dean Winchester’s plaid shirts, listening to him hum along with the radio as he drives you to his motel?

Yeah. You’re gonna need something to kill.

Or you could just kill Dean.

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A Little Something About The Tangy and The Tart

I cannot believe it has been so long since I posted and I’m sorry, truly, that it’s taken me forever and a day to get my ass in gear. But due to recent events, I felt inspired to write something and I’m actually really, really happy with how this turned out!

Also, I owe a huge thank you to @permanentcross for giving me advice and reassuring me this wasn’t crap and to @canistay-haz for being her wonderful, loving self and telling me I don’t suck. You both are so, so lovely and I’m lucky that I can ask you for advice when I’m not confident in my writing.

That being said, enjoy!

Warning: NSFW

Masterlist


Normally, Saturday mornings would be reserved for sleeping in, lazy kisses, and barely audible gasps filling your ears. Today however, you and Harry had to be somewhat functioning adults. You were having one last get together with Harry’s closest friends and family before his life was sent into the spotlight for who knows how long, and he didn’t get to be as free and open with his time as he had been. 

You woke up about half an hour after Harry did, knowing you had things to do and people to see but you were having none of it. All you could think about was the slight yet very-much-still-there tingling sensation between your legs thanks to yours and Harry’s late night rendezvous. You smiled to yourself, rolling over and letting your face collide into Harry’s pillow, inhaling his lingering scent that made you want him all over again… 

You made your way downstairs to your boyfriend, legs bare and torso covered in his ridiculously baggy pink shirt that was littered with the white polka dots, your rear just barely peeking out at the bottom hem. Harry was sporting only a pair of grey joggers that hung much too low on his hips, not that you were complaining. 

“Morning, sunshine.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, peppering his back with tiny pecks.

“G’morning, poppet. Sleep okay?” Every morning after, without fail, he asks how you slept. He asks because he knows when you’re both in the heat of the moment, sex isn’t gentle. Not that it’s animalistic, but you and Harry like what you like and making sure you’re comfortable and properly taken care of after is an essential part of his aftercare routine; he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take care of you and pamper any part that might be slightly bruised or extra loved on. He does love a routine after all…

“Mhm,” you purr into his back, pecking his skin once more before he spins around in your grasp, your arms falling to your sides while he places one hand on your cheek and encloses your mouth with his.

“Good,” he smiles down at you, pecking your cheek before turning back to the countertop where you can see he’s been preparing a dessert for the get together later that night. 

“Whatcha makin’?” you ask, hopping upon the countertop, legs swinging back and forth while eyeing the bowl of plain raspberries and the graham cracker crust that was still sitting in the tart pan Harry insisted he needed.

“How does a raspberry tart for tonight sound? Bought the pan, figured there was no use in letting it sit in the cupboard.”

You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. There was nothing comical about the dessert in and of itself, but you were feeling some type of way this morning and you couldn’t help but think of it in a provocative way.

Harry rolled his eyes, trying not to grin, “Why is that funny?”

You just giggled again and reached to kiss him on the cheek, “Maybe I wanna be your little raspberry tart. I already have the perfect shirt on.” Although you’d been sitting on the countertop for a good minute already, Harry had just noticed how his shirt had ridden up your thighs and he swallowed hard, also taking in how you had only the bottom two buttons fastened and there was little, if anything, left to the imagination. What Harry didn’t know was that you didn’t have anything covering the part of you that wanted him the most; he figured you’d just thrown on something skimpy just to torture him but no, you were completely bare, apart from the bottom of the hem under your bum, and sitting on your boyfriend’s counter. Harry didn’t have a prayer. 

You smirked at him cheekily and even though you’d had him not even eight hours before, he could tell you still had an appetite for something else, something that filled you in a different way. 

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