hes not even here and he makes me want to punch a wall

anyone else still sometimes catch themselves thinking about how after all those years of idolizing dave strider and after all that time in the void session wondering and anticipating and nervously awaiting this theoretical possibility that he might get the chance to meet him, dirk finally fucking sits down with dave one on one hours from the final battle and like wow fucking surprise motherfucker

he gets to find out his literal worst fears were ACTUALLY true! the version of him that dave knew actually did, in fact, do his level best to ruin dave’s life and was an abusive, toxic influence from day one and throughout to the point where dave can’t even look at him without flinching! 

this coming at a time when dirk is already horrendously low on himself, his relationship with Jake literally just blew up like 3 hours ago and if the AR thing went down even remotely the same way there was also that and holy hell dude what a time to be informed about the existence of Bro Strider. Dirk is sitting there thinking he was a toxic influence to Jake from moment one and probably all of his friends the whole time and here Dave is confirming everything from a parallel perspective? 

you can just see this horrible gut clenching moment when this utterly defeated Dirk just meekly accepts that this other version of himself is reflective of his true innermost self and has justifiably ruined any chance he ever had of impressing or even knowing Dave

– and then you see Dave just immediately lift it off him, even get kinda angry at him for having the audacity to even try accepting it that way, you can FEEL Dave’s fucking confusion because he went in guns blazing expecting a confrontation with someone as impossible and inscrutable as Bro was. Dave went in expecting to punch a brick wall and get nowhere, and instead he got Dirk “you’re absolutely right and I’m so fucking sorry I ruined your life” Strider 

and from Dirk’s pov, listening to this, watching this, having this realization that this dave isn’t an untouchable, aloof, mysterious and mythical heroic figure of legend at all, but that only makes him MORE worthy of idolization in all the ways that genuinely matter – and simultaneously thinking that he’s already sabotaged himself out of the chance to know him at all.

It’s like, god, you know those hyperrealistic nightmares people have sometimes that are so fucking scary because they’re indistinguishable from real life, the ones where after you wake up it takes a long time for the understanding that it was actually just a dream to hit you and then you want to cry with relief? 

For Dirk this had to have been so much like that, the whiplash between being 100% sure that Dave was just going to say what he needed to say and then never speak to him again (and knowing Dirk would have considered it completely justified and never questioned his right to do so jesus christ) followed IMMEDIATELY by Dave just being like no you don’t get it, THIS you, this version of you, what I am looking for deep down in my fucking SOUL is for this you that you are right now to be a person that I can have in my life to tell me that I’m okay, that you’re okay, that WE’RE okay – and after fifteen minutes talking to you I can already immediately tell that you ARE that person. 

Dirk’s friends were always only interested in denying the possibility that Dirk could ever truly become a monster, they could never have possibly understood just how DARK Dirk is at his most self destructive, and that’s part of why their reassurances were always hollow for him – they didn’t GET IT, right, they never could have followed the rabbit hole all the way down, so what did they know? But this guy, Dave Strider, has literally seen Dirk at his worst, has lived through the actual reality of the worst things living inside the full-picture potential of Dirk Strider, has dealt with that to great personal detriment and is fucking STILL sitting here telling him “I can tell that you are different, I can tell that you are better, and I am willing to trust you and help you to become a better person than the guy I knew because at the end of the fucking day, you are too important to me to give up on”

like yeah confronting dirk with all of that was what dave needed absolutely but BEING confronted and ultimately forgiven by dave was what dirk needed too, just as much

in conclusion homestuck is good

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 Part 3

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... Somehow, Still Talking About This Captain America Shit (Now With Bonus Spider-Man and Agents of SHIELD)

So now Secret Empire has revealed its Shyamalan Twist and given the readers a Good Guy Steve Rogers as well as Hydra Cap, and the kinds of dickbags who, when this whole bullshit began were dismissing people’s complaints with “oh come on, don’t you know how comics works, it’s all going to be put back at the end, blah blah blah…” are crowing I-Told-You-So’s.

But here’s the thing:

Yeah, fucknuts.  We always knew this.

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instant gratification 02 (m)

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

➾11.6k words
➾ lots of smut, some fluff, a little angst (just like this gif)
➾ warnings: pregnancy mention
➾ summary: the rules of becoming fuck buddies are as follows: no strings attached, don’t play jealousy games, and strictly no cuddling after sex. On a scale of how-fucked-are-you from one to ten, Jeon Jeongguk has you on a 9, in more ways than one.


Jeon Jeongguk, on top of being the nastiest fuckboy who just happens to have some good dick, is a childish brat. 

Parties are so not your thing, and you feel like a fish out of water in the midst of so many scantily clad girls and barely sober frat boys. You’ve been grabbed at least 5 times now, only managing to narrowly escape their clutches the last time, and you have to fight to keep your patience as you try and spot his big head in the overcrowded frat house. You wouldn’t be here if not for his not so thinly veiled threat over text.

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anonymous asked:

heres a prompt if u were interested: neil being oblivious when flirted with constantly while andrew doing nothing, passing by, twirling his racquet is enough to get neil's attention (the rest of the foxes smirk)

“You’re all zoned out,” Matt says in her ear. Dan tips him immediately backwards with a hand to the chest.

“Shush,” she tells him, gritted through the straw she’s worrying between her teeth. She ran out of the watered-down pepsi they’re serving in battered plastic jugs a half hour ago.

“Dan.”

“Shush,” she insists, pressing two fingers to his mouth. She’s watching Neil trying to fill his water cup over at the far side of the banquet hall. He’s hovering in that way he does, like a shark who hasn’t figured out if something’s food yet.

There’s this sweet brown-eyed boy trying to talk to him, possibly the only male cheerleader in the room, certainly the least in the loop about Exy gossip. Dan watches him touch Neil’s arm and Neil jerks backwards into the table, toppling an entire icy water jug so it slops onto the floor and seeps through the tablecloth to the dark wood underneath.

Heads pop up, the boy falls all over himself to pour Neil a new glass, and Neil wanders off, bored.

Dan has noticed that people really want Neil to have a heart of gold. They like the news stories and they want them for themselves. They want the seams showing on his face and the tragedy in his back pocket, and they want to show everyone how accepting they are for finding his scars sexy. 

All they really want is his trim waist and his pretty eyes and his vice-cap badge and the way he shoves cameras away and has more history than any twenty-year-old has any business having.

Dan’s seen it all before. The way people like the character you’re playing so much that they want to take you home and open you up and see how deep it goes.

Neil’s worse at knowing when it’s happening. Dan’s a professional. She can see the way their eyes follow him because at least a dozen are always following her too, especially in places like this banquet. They look at Neil, or Dan, and a little part of them expects a show.

She watches Neil walk towards them with his eyes pouring over the room like liquid and finding every crevice, every exit. She looks at Matt.

“He’s doing that thing where he’s making a spectacle but he thinks he’s being very subtle.”

“That’s his whole shtick. I’m fond of it, now.” Matt grins.

“Do you think he actually noticed he was being hit on?”

Matt hums, watching Neil wind through the tables back to the fox—trojan extravaganza at theirs. “I doubt he knows anything about that boy other than the fact that he was in front of him for a bit.”

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His Mind Created the Perfect Metaphor

Dear BBC Sherlock community,

Ever since Sherlock series 4 came out, collectively we were like “what the HELL is this?!?! This doesn’t make any sense!” BUT after many months of tossing ideas around the fandom, we have made theories that could explain the weirdness, but nothing we can all agree on. Now, this meta here may be absolute garbage to you, but I believe, in my heart of hearts, I’ve solved it. Please read it in its entirety with an open mind before you reblog it just to tell me I suck.

Thanks in advance, you da best

Paige


Here’s the short version: Sherlock actually jumped at the end of The Reichenbach Fall, just as Doyle intended him to die. Gatiss and Moffat said they are correcting something in this adaptation that no one else has gotten right before. Many of us assumed the homosexual romance was the one thing they were changing, but we were punched in the face right after The Final Problem came out.  Gatiss and Moffat are changing the sacrifice. Holmes was intended to die for his friends but Doyle needed more money and rewrote the series after “The Final Problem”. That turned Holmes’ sacrifice into a cruel joke against Watson. This is what BBC Sherlock is fixing, and we’re about to see it come to fruition.

I know many theorists despise the homosexual reading of Holmes and Watson, while many people in general despise theorists on this site. That’s fine, I don’t care how people feel about gay theories and/or TJLC and its followers.  But I’m here to tell you TJLC, at its core as a concept, was right. You may hate Moffat and Gatiss, you may think Sherlock is a piece of shit show, and that’s fine, you do you. But hear this one meta out, please. I think even the hardest skeptic can at least apprectiate the thought and logic behind this.

Keep reading

Star Spangled Man With A...

Avengers team x reader.

Warnings: swearing, violence, implied injury

Word Count: 1,759

First avengers fic please be nice


   “Y/n can you come here please?” Natasha called from somewhere on this floor.

Where on this floor was a completely different matter.

   “Where is ‘here’, Nat?” I called back, standing from my bedroom floor.

   “My room,” she shouted. “I need your help with something,”

I stepped out of my room into the dark hallway, and stealthily made my way to Natasha’s room. just casually using my shadow abilities to blend in with the darkness and travel through the shadows to get to Natasha’s room faster.

   “What do you need?” I leant on her door frame after stepping out of the shadows and watched as she awkwardly tried to assemble a step under her light. “What are you doing?”

   “I’m trying to change the light bulb but someone’s taken the ladder and I’m small,” she huffed as she stacked another book onto the pile of crap in the middle of her room.

I felt someone walked behind me and saw Bucky and Steve headed down the hallway. I caught Steve by the arm, making him stop.

   “Y’know Nat,” I said, dragging Steve into the room. “I can’t help you change your light, but the Star Spangled Man With A Plan Sure Can,”

I smiled like a goofus as they both stared at me and Bucky snorted before continuing down the hall giggling to himself.

   “You’re so proud of your shitty jokes aren’t you?” Natasha laughed finally.

   “Actually I’m just proud of getting that whole sentence out without fucking it up,” I grinned before skipping out of the room. and back into the darkness.

   “You guys swear so much,” I heard Steve mutter.


The following night we’d all settled in the huge living room to hang out and watch a movie.

I couldn’t remember the name of the movie but it had dragons which was cool.

   “Hey Tony,” I called across the room.

   “Yeah?” he said through a mouthful of popcorn.

   “Can you get a tanning bed for the tower?” I asked.

Natasha laughed and Sam choked on his drink at the randomness of my question.

   “Y/n we go outside daily what the hell for?” Tony chuckled at me.

   “I wanna force Steve into it so I can called him The Star Spangle Man With A Tan,” I said plainly, succeeding in holding in my laughter.

Clint clearly wasn’t trying as hard as me as he burst into a fit of giggles on the couch.

Bucky laughed and muttered something that sounded like “eat it Steve” But I couldn’t be sure.

Steve just shook his head turned the volume on the movie up.


The next day we went on a mission was the best I’d ever been on because Steve just kept finding himself in positions where I could take the piss.

The first was in the gym that morning we were working on an agility warm up game and Steve was explaining what he wanted us to do.

   “First you’re going to run the beam while dodging swinging punching bags,” He pointed to one end of the room where that course was set up. “Then you have to make it over the sponge pit via the money bars and avoid being hit with a dodge ball, and then you will climb over the A frame, rescue the ‘civilian’ and carry them back down to safety all the while being attacked by ‘Villains’” 

   “What’s the catch?” I crossed my arms as I looked at the very easy course.

   “You have to make it from here,” he gesture to the start of the track, and still keeping his first arm up he pointed to the end with the other. “To there in 30 seconds or less,”

I noticed he still had his arms both out pointing at each end of the course.

I nudged Natasha in the arm and chuckled.

   “Star Spangled Man With A Wide Arm Span” I stifled my laugh through one hand while pointing at Steve with the other.

   “Y/n your time limit is now 20 seconds,” Steve huffed before hitting the buzzer and Clint began running the course.


The Second time was when we were first out on our mission and some bad guys were fuckin shit up down-town with alien weapons.

A woman was cornered between some cars that had collided and a man with a very strange looking gun that blasted purple plasma rays.

I sank down into the shadow cast by the building I stood behind and traveled to the shadow under the cars behind the the man with the plasma gun.

Sliding out from under the car I kicked my leg out and brought him to the ground, elbowed him in the nose and took his gun.

While he lay squirming in pain on the ground I took the womans hand and began running as fast as I could drag her away from the man. Tossing the gun up to one of Tony’s uninhabited suits.

   “Cap where are you?” I shouted into the coms.

   “Be by your side in a second,” his voice rang in my ear. “Don’t move,”

I stopped running and withing second Steve landed on the hood of one of the bad guys cars right next to me and the woman, holding a couple more of the alien guns.

   “Give me the guns,” I said. “I’ll take them to the suits,”

He tossed the guns to me and I squealed.

   “DON’T THROW A PLASMA RAY AT SOMEONE YOU DOLT!” I shouted.

I secured my grip on the guns and turned to the woman.

   “Hi are you okay?” I asked her. “I’m Shadow what’s your name?”

   “I’m fine,” she said breathless, clearly ecstatic that she’d been saved by the avengers. “My name is Anne,”

   “Ugh YES” I was suddenly so very happy.

The woman looked very confused.

    “Star Spangled Man, Look After Anne,” I shouted as I shoved the woman into Caps arms and dove into another shadow before he could retaliate.


The last was when he was chasing a bad guy and was thrown back through the window of a bakery.

I fly kicked the bad guy into the wall and he slumped to the ground out cold.

   “Cap you okay?” I called as I climbed through the shattered window frame to see a few customers helping him stand. 

The owner of the bakery came around the counter with a pastry dish in her hands and gave it to me. 

I mean we just smashed through the wall of her shop surely it’s not a thank you?

Cap and I exited the bakery and were met by Hawkeye and Black Widow looking at us.

   “Whatcha got there?” Clint eyed the pastry dish in my hands.

It was now that I realised what it was. Immediately I handed it to Steve.

   “The Star Spangled Man With A Fruit Flan,” I put my hands on my hips and grinned proudly so wide my eyes were squinted shut.

My happy streak didn’t last very long because something impacted with the top of my head and I was suddenly very cold. 

And sticky.

I opened my eyes and wiped custard out of my eyes.

   “Did you just dump a perfectly good fruit flan on my head?” I turned and growled at Steve.

   “Dude we could’ve eaten that,” Clint whined.

Steve just smiled with pride that could have mirrored my own.


For the next week or so there was no joke I could have used at the right time so I just had to wait for the right opportunity.

One finally came along.

Cap and Black Widow were sent on a small mission and I was bored so I followed them in the shadows. 

During a scuffle between Cap and one of the targets, Cap was thrown from a 2 story roof and smashed into the roof of a parked (and thankfully empty) minivan.

I immediately pulled out my phone and snapped an unflattering photo of the scene and sank back into the shadows and portalled home.

I sat waiting for their return in the living room ready to project my photo onto the largest screen in the room. As soon as the walked in I called all the other to join me.

   “Guys, guys,” I was shaking with excitement.

   “oh god what did you do?” Bucky sighed with a laugh as I hopped back and forth from one foot to the other.

   “I snapped a really awesome photo,” I half squealed.

I clicked the button that projected what was on my phone to the tv screen and held my hands out in a presenting manner.

   “Ta-daaa!” I smiled and looked around the room at the confused faces of my team.

   “What exactly am I looking at?” Tony asked.

   “It’s The Star Spangled Man In A Minivan,” I yelled happily.

   “How did you even get that picture?” Steve looked astonished. “Did you follow us?”

   “No that would be creepy,” I giggled before sinking into the shadow in the floor and traveling into the hallway.

   “I don’t think anything will ever be as creepy as seeing a smiling chick sink into the floor,” I heard Clint shiver.


I woke up a few days later to F.R.I.D.A.Y telling my that I’d overslept and breakfast was being made in the kitchen where the others had already gathered.

I shot out of bed and ran out of my room, very annoyed at the well lit rooms and hallways that I could’t shadow travel through.

   “Please be Steve, please be Steve,” I chanted to myself as I sprinted down the hallway and jogged on the spot in the elevator to the recreation floor.

I got a number of odd looks from the team who were all assembled around the breakfast table when I burst into the kitchen very short of breath.

Much to my joy, I was greeted by the beautiful sight of Steve frying bacon and eggs on the electric stove.

I failed to control my laboured breathing and huffed my way to the island bench, awkwardly posing on the edge of the counter with a smug grin.

   “Y/n please don-” Steve looked so done but I cut him off.

   “Star Spangled Man With A Pan,” I wheezed with a proud smile. 

   “Damnit!” Clint beat his fist down on the table, startling most of the team. “I’ve been trying to thinkof one for ages I can’t be;live I missed that,”

   “Get your own joke Katniss,” I giggled, siting on the bar stool and winking at Steve.

   “You’re not getting any bacon,” he grumbled and plated some for everyone but me.

Bts | Reaction | Privacy

[ one can only imagine lol hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting!! ]

Rated (SM) for slightly mature.


Seokjin 

➸ There was nothing rushed during your little shower session, Jin was definitely going to take his time with you. Thankful he had time off to spend with you, he wanted to make it last for a long as he could - from slow kisses to the slow rhythm of his hips as he easily slid into your entrance. Soft moans would fall from each of your lips as they barely separated from one another, you hands caressing his face while his would travel from your thighs, hips, to waist. He didn’t leave any patch of skin untouched, neither did you. Everything about this moment was perfect and filled with bliss. It was as if the whole world had stopped for the two of you…but unfortunately, that’s unrealistic thinking. 

“Could you two stop blowing up the goddamn water bill?” 

Jin nearly drops you at the sound of Yoongi’s voice, you letting out a small squeak as he presses you even farther into the wall, his chest smushing into yours to hide you away from the sudden intruder. 

“Yah, Suga! Why didn’t you knock, that’s so rude!” 

“So is using up all the hot water. Do it in the bedroom, like normal fucking people.” 

Yoongi 

➸ You’ve been needy all day, and when he was finally home, you weren’t wasting a second more. He wasn’t complaining - hell - he was hoping you were in the mood anyways. Things didn’t take long to escalate as Yoongi had no trouble taking you from behind, smirking lazily at the sounds you didn’t even bother to cover up. 

“That’s it, baby, let me hear how good you feel…” 

Constant whispers of unholy things were enough to increase the volume of your moans, not taking into consideration that you two wouldn’t exactly be alone for much longer. Not even 30 seconds have passed when a harsh knock came to the door, but Yoongi didn’t falter into his thrusts - he didn’t even stop. As he continued to pound into you, he answered to whoever was at the door. 

“I’m busy.” 

“Yeah, we know! We all heard you from the front door! The FRONT DOOR, Yoongi! Could you keep it down a little?” 

Min Yoongi grins so devilishly at the back of your head, you could feel chills run down your spine. Gripping your hair tightly to tug your neck backward, you could now see the mischievous look in his eyes; he was up to no good. 

“Sure, no problem.” Without even missing a beat, Yoongi starts back up again at an inhuman amount of speed, finally hitting that one spot over and over again that both made you see stars, and scream at the top of your lungs. By now, the neighbors could probably hear the two of you as well. 

“Is this down enough for you?” They could practically hear his shit-eating grin, all glaring at the door as it seemed that now there was no stopping him. 

He was smart enough to lock the door. 

Namjoon 

➸ The two of you just couldn’t wait; didn’t even get fully undressed until after you stepped into the shower. Namjoon watched you intensely as he undressed you from your now drenched shirt, licking his lips at the mere sight of the water dripping down your body rapidly. 

“Fuck, I’ve missed you, jagi…” He groans before pulling you closer to continue the make-out session you started in the living room. Reaching in between the two of you, you eagerly gripped his already throbbing member causing a strained moan to escape past his lips in surprise. 

Namjoon practically panted in your mouth as your pace picked up in no time, him letting you touch him for as long as you wanted as he placed one hand to the wall to keep his balance. 

“Namjoon, did you break my headphon-OH. OH OH OH I AM SO SORRY. IGNORE ME, YOU SEEM BUSY, ILL ASK LATER BYE.” Hoseok flailed, almost slipping on the rug on his way out, almost forgetting where the door knob was as he dramatically exited the bathroom. 

Both you and Namjoon stared at the door with raised eyebrows, him shrugging his shoulders while you giggled softly while shaking your head. That small interruption didn’t kill the mood at all for the two of you, as he stared down at you with lust filled eyes and a slanted smirk. 

“On your knees, babygirl.” 

Hoseok

➸ It was the end of your anniversary date, which consisted of dinner and a movie. He wanted the night to be perfect, and boy did he deliver. Hoseok was nothing but romantic and gentle with you all night, everything just all cuddly and calm. The warm water that cascaded down your still clothed figures felt so relaxing - his soft kisses that trailed from the side of your face to your neck almost had you practically melting in his arms. Your hands ran through his damp hair, while his were placed firmly on your hips, as the two of you basically slow danced in the shower. 

“You’re too good for me, Hobi…how did I get so lucky?” 

He chuckles softly, now nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. “That’s my line, jagi…I should be asking you that.” 

It didn’t take long for his sweet kisses to turn into sucks, as he marked all of your favorite spots that he’s memorized all too well. Your bite your lip to keep quiet, knowing good and well that the others were in the bed by now…or were they? 

“I’m telling you, Jin-hyung, I turned off the shower an hour ag-OH HOLY SHIT!” As quick as the door came open, it was slammed shut. You and Hoseok now stared at the door in pure horror, covering each other up - even though neither of you was naked yet. Quickly turning off the shower, Hoseok steps out right as Jin opened the door once again - only this time with his eyes covered. By now, Jungkook ran back to his room in embarrassment. 

“I don’t care what you two were about to do in here, it’s none of my business. But, for the sake of Jungkook, and my innocent eyeballs - could you lock the door next time?” 

Jimin 

➸ Just like Hoseok, it was more a soothing type of shower session between the two of you. He sat on the shower bench while you straddled his lap, your bra still intact as Jimin just teased the straps, him smiling teasingly in the kiss as you hissed at him when he would tug it far, only to then let them snap back against your wet skin. 

“Jimin, I swear to God if you do that one more time, I’ll-”

“You’ll what, baby, huh?” His smile drops as he dared you to finish that threat, the hands that were placed upon your upper back now dangerously low on your ass - giving you a warning squeeze. “Did you forget who you talking to for a moment there? Does daddy need to punish you?” 

Before you could even respond, you could see the color drain from his face as his eyes drifted to something that was behind you. Tilting your head to the side in confusion, you turn to see what he was looking at, only to let out a scream in shock. Taehyung stood there in complete horror, unfortunately walking in at the wrong time. 

“I-I…I have no words…”

“Tae…how much did you hear?” Jimin gulps, afraid that his friend might have just discovered a little too much about himself. 

“Enough to where I want to shove pencils in my ears. Dinner’s ready, by the way, but it looks to me you’re already about to eat-”

“Y A H.” Jimin exclaims, Tae shooting his hands up in surrender as he starts to exit the bathroom with still a look of horror on his face. “Don’t tell anyone about this, please. I’m begging you.”

He shrugs, a small smirk starting to creep upon his lips. “Will daddy punish me if I do-”

“sTOP.” 

Taehyung 

➸ It was, at first, a solo shower. You had just gotten home from work, your day already starting off shitty - but that really took the cake. Not only did most of your co-workers call in sick, but they did it on the day where you have the most crowds. You were practically drowning in stress that you almost punched a costumer in the face. In conclusion : worst day ever. 

The dorm was empty by the time you got there, mentally thanking the man up in the sky that at least you came home to some peace and quiet for once. The warm water was exactly what you needed, but yet it wasn’t enough to fully relax you. Sighing heavily at the fact of not being completely satisfied, you lean forward to turn the water off - feeling defeat. It wasn’t until you felt a pair of cold hand grab your waist, and spin you around did you accidentally turn it to freezing ice water before letting out a small scream. Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to seal you screams with a kiss, letting you register that it was only him as you finally calmed down. 

“You jackass, don’t do that! One of these days I’m gonna stab you!” You couldn’t help but giggle as he started placing kisses all over your face, your lips trembling as the cold water draped over your bodies. 

“With what? Soap? Your shampoo bottle?” He teased, while continuing to place kisses anywhere and everywhere. “You looked a little down, so you can’t tell me that didn’t brighten you mood up just a little bit, jagi.” 

You wanted to punch him for almost giving you a heart attack, but you were happy to see him. Taehyung was actually the last puzzle piece to help turn this sour day back to sweet. Leaning into him closer to further his pecks into something more, the door to the bathroom was practically kicked in, and in came six out of the seven members as they all rushed into the small bathroom - Jimin holding a bat, while Hoseok started swinging at the air. 

“Y/n! Are you alright?! We heard you scream and- oh.” Namjoon pushed his way in, only to see that it wasn’t what they thought at all. “Seriously? Why can’t you do this at your own place - some of us have to shower in there, too!” 

Jungkook 

➸ You moaned into his mouth shamelessly at the pleasure he was giving you, the rushed movements of your mouths only making the bathroom much more steamier than the hot water. He wanted to use up all the time he had with you, knowing that his hyungs would be home soon, Jungkook wanted to use this opportunity to make noise as much as possibly. With one hand he held your wrists together, while the other rubbed your clit in slow circles, the water giving spectacular lubrication as you whimpered at the feeling. 

“Jungkook…p-please…” 

“Please what, Y/n? You’re gonna have to be more specific~” 

“Please g-go faster, please..!” You would cry, the teasing no longer tolerable as you were now reduced to begging. You would give anything to cum, even so much as scream his name while his hyungs were home. Be careful what you wish for. 

“Jungkook, are you watching porn again?” Jimin opens the door, only for both his eyes and mouth to completely bust wide open in shock. Jungkook being Jungkook quickly pulled away from you to cover himself up - only to then realize that you were naked as well, to then cover you up away from Jimin’s amused stare. 

“J-Jimin, don’t tell Jin-hyung! W-We were just uh…saving water?” 

“Oh, don’t worry, Kookie. I won’t tell him that you’re committing unholy things in his bathroom.” Not even five seconds later, “SEOKJIN! GUESS WHO’S MAKING BABIES IN YOUR SHOWER.” 

Jungkook, not even giving a shit anymore, would practically run after Jimin naked - leaving you to stand in there confused and sexually frustrated. 

|reaction masterlist|

@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.

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

Home - Jon Snow

Jon Snow’s army defeated the Boltons, thus retaking Winterfell in the Stark’s name. But you haven’t seen Jon since he left for the Night’s Watch. Will he remember what you said to him as he walked out of Winterfell’s gates? Will he feel the same way when he returned? (Words : 2344)

Originally posted by daughterofwinterfell

The last time you saw Jon Snow, he had a frown on his face as he solemnly told you that he was leaving to Castle Black. You could remember your heart aching as his brown eyes held your gaze as he tried to explain why he was going away.

“This is your home, Jon, you just can’t leave like this. You’re needed here,” you begged, tears falling down your face. Jon gave you saddened look, trying desperately to make your understand. But he knew you would understand, you just didn’t want to. You had been one of his closest companions, next to Robb and other Stark children; there was something special about you. which made this all the more difficult for him.

“Y/N, this isn’t my home. I don’t belong here, I’m no Stark.” You shook your head, resting your hands on his shoulders. One hand traveled to his neck, causing him to look up and meet your eyes once more. You stared into his dark eyes, like you’ve done many times before.

There was something between you two, in the way you looked at each other. Your stolen moments were more than the mischievous ones shared between Jon and Arya. Your conversations with him held more heart than your jokes with Sansa. You confided in Jon with your secrets and problems more than Robb. There was an unspoken, untouched affection that lingered in too-long touches and heartfelt stares; but now those little moments would cease. The possibility of love would trail behind Jon as he traveled to the Night’s Watch.

“This isn’t your home?” Your hands held his face now, pulling him closer than ever before. “Jon, Winterfell is just four walls,” your voice was more calm now, “I’m your home.” You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, but Jon seemed to stop breathing all together.

“Y/N, you’re,” he paused, not knowing what to say. You swallowed hard, letting your words rest between you with a heavy weight. “You are my home,” Jon finally said, “but I need to do this. For me. For the realm.” You smiled softly, feeling more tears swell in your eyes.

“And you say you’re not a Stark, always doing things for the greater good,” you let out a bittersweet, short laugh. Jon gave you a sorrowful smile before resting his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness you shared with Jon in that moment. Your last intimate moment together.

After a while, you pulled your head away from Jon’s. You locked eyes with him again and you were just, so close. His lips were just a tip-toe away. You could feel his breath against your skin and it was just so tempting to close that gap.

“Y/N,” Jon murmured lowly, his northern accent heavier than before. One of his hands cupped your face, his thumb tracing the space beneath your bottom lip. Jon leaned forward slightly, but you backed away. You curled your bottom lip in your mouth and shook your head.

“When you come back home Jon Snow,” you took a tentative step towards him, “when you come back to me.” You leaned over slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You pulled away fully, because if you didn’t, you’d probably wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. “When you come back home,” you repeated and Jon nodded. His hand went to yours, givning it a soft squeeze.

“I will miss you, Y/N,” he whispered, “I will miss you dearly.” Jon turned then, walking off to his room. You watched him go, knowing that in the morning there would be no time for a true goodbye like this. And you were right; Jon Snow left the next morning and you were forced to just wave goodbye, only remembering your true farewell from the night before.

All that followed after his departure came with the shadow of death and horror. The Stark name had been dragged through the dirt, with Ned’s beheading and Robb’s murder. It seemed there was no end in sight with all the killings. It sure didn’t stop when Winterfell had fallen into the control of House Bolton; more specifically, Ramsay Bolton.


 The clashing of weapons and the bloody screams of soldiers could be heard through the stone walls of Winterfell. You hid in a small room, trying to avoid the Boltons that were searching for servants to aid in the battle. You had no wish to fight against Sansa’s forces, especially after finding out that Jon was leading them. The beat of your heart accelerated when you thought of seeing him again, if he made it through the battle.

 You were concealed in the room, Jon’s old room that had become yours, until your heard a large banging that came from the courtyard. You carefully opened the door, peeking out from beyond the balcony at the giant that had burst through the door. You opened the door a little more and saw him. Jon, standing next to the giant as an arrow flew into it’s eye. You gasped, turning your head to have your eyes land on Ramsay. You swallowed hard as you look back at Jon.

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Just Following Orders, Sir - Mitch Rapp

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Mitch Rapp/Reader

Word Count: 11,985

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Oral (both receiving), Multiple Orgasms, Shower Sex, Teasing, Death of bad guys, Sir, Squirting, Voyeurism, Boob Job

Notes: I know this is long overdue, but the word count makes up for it right? I got delayed because of Howler Con (I lost 3 says yo). I hope you guys like this. I liked this idea a lot actually.

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Jealousy pt.1

Originally posted by nnochu

•Bad language
•Reader x Jungkook
•Filthy, filthy smut
•Took me ages writing this
•Daddy kink
•I’m going to hell for this
•Dirty talk
•Rough, against the wall sex

Don’t take the comments seriously, its just a joke, I don’t wish to purposely insult bts

Summary: Taehyung is jealous of your relationship with Jungkook, Kook reminds you who you really belong too

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What Did You Just Call Me? (Bucky X Reader)

Originally posted by totheendofthelinepal

MASTER LIST

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Warnings: Cursing, Violence & PDA
WORD COUNT: 2,712 
SUMMARY: The Avengers come back from a quick mission that ended well for everyone but Y/N. During the whole mission, Bucky babies Y/N since she’s new to the team. When they come back to headquarters she picks a fight with him leading to an actual fight. 


“I can’t believe you.”

“What I do now, Dollface?”

“Don’t doll face me!” Y/N storms out of the elevator with the rest of the Avengers following behind her, “You practically told me to wait in the car like I’m some five-year-old!”

“Well, if you didn’t act like a child then I wouldn’t treat you like one.”

Y/N’s eyes go wide by Bucky Barnes’s statement, somehow he’s able to make her even more pissed than she already is. The two heroes walk side by side further into the Avenger’s headquarter as they bark at one another. People around them notice steam coming out of Y/N’s ears and Bucky’s deadly gaze with the rest of the Avenger gang following behind them awkwardly quiet. Just that display makes everyone near the group go the opposite way. Y/N stops walking and points at her friend with a metal arm while growling in disbelief.

“Excuse me?! Bucky, you’re not my Dad-”

“Woah, save the kinky talk for the bed.”

Tony Starks blurts out making the two fighting look at him like they’re about to attack. James Rhodes sends his best friend a knowing look before shrugging and continuing to walk beside him. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton are walking behind Tony and James with bored expressions as if they been through this argument with each other before. Wanda Maximoff and Vision walk beside the assassins like they wanted nothing but leave the scene in front of them. Sam Wilson then sends Steve Rogers a glance silently telling him that maybe they should intervene but Steve just watches them like this is a casual conversation. Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, and Peter Parker are the last ones to leave the elevator. All three look innocently confused on what is going on here. The whole team is decked out in their now dirty suits and used weapons. Sending Tony an irritated glance Y/N snaps with venom.

“Tony. For the last time, we’re just friends!”

“Could have fooled me.” He mumbles to himself making Y/N face go red causing him to raise his hands up in defeat and adding, “Sorry, my bad.”

“Sure you are.”

Y/N rolls her eye knowing he’ll make another joke about them in a minute. He’s been making comments like that ever since she joined the Avengers and grew a friendship with Bucky. She knows the group secretly thinks something is going on between the two them. That’s more because Bucky doesn’t make friends, Steve was the only person who qualified as a friend to Bucky before Y/N got into the picture. When Y/N joined she hit it off with everyone, more with the Winter Soldier than with anyone else though. It was a problem in the beginning since the group treated her like they had to keep her safe at all times but after a few weeks, everyone realized she didn’t need protection. Well, everyone realized that besides Bucky. Which is why they are at each other’s throats right now because during the whole mission the team was on only moments ago Bucky had treated her like another civilian. Chucking her gun carelessly on a couch near by Y/N shouts at Bucky without looking at him.

“I’m going to say this one last time, Bucky Barnes. I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

“Why are you mad at me?” He looks around the building confused before saying with some serious guts, “It’s not my fault you’re fragile.”

“Oh shit.”

“God… Bucky… No.”

“Are you trying to get your ass kicked?”

“What did you just call me?”

Y/N shouts before flipping over a table and turning to face him with an unreadable expression, she’s never looked more deadly than right now. To be honest, no one besides Bucky really knows Y/N, she’s only been an Avenger for a few months now and she spends most her time with him. Nevertheless, it’s no secret that Y/N gets mad a lot, a least once a day she’s pissed about something. Yesterday it was because of her coffee split, today it’s because Bucky called her fragile but this was a different kind of mad that none of them have ever seen. It was close to when Bruce gets scary kind of mad and turns into Hulk. So out of a force of habit, the whole team stills and watches them with their weapons at the ready. The whole room is now empty of normal people, good thing too because at this moment Bucky and Y/N are wild cards.

“You’re calling ME fragile?!” Y/N snap as she shoves Bucky before pointing at Peter, “We have a fucking 12-year-old on the team and you’re calling me FRAGILE!”

“Hey…”

“Shut up.”

“He has powers, Doll. You don’t.” Bucky announces annoyed as he pushes his longish dark hair out of his face, “He’s been on the team longer than you too. All I’m saying is he has more experience-”

“WHAT!”

Y/N blurts out in such a deep and powerful tone that Thor looks at her in alarm while slightly raising his hammer. In anger, she then takes a handful of small knives and chuckles them harshly near Bucky. They all hit the white wall behind him, he doesn’t flinch and he doesn’t gain a scratch by her action either. He looks at her bored only making her impossibly more furious. Since she was born she was trained to survive anything and to do anything. Her whole life was about surviving any situation. She never got a day off her whole life until last year when Nick found her and gave her an offer to be a part of the Avengers. Storming toward him with her fist clenched she’s about to throw a punch when he grabs her wrist. When she tries to use her free hand he grabs that one too before she can do any damage to him. He spins her slickly around so her entire back is against his built chest. Lowering his head so his lips are right beside her ear when he whispers in a commanding tone.

“Stop being a drama queen and-”

Not letting him finish Y/N flips him over causing him to fall in front of her onto his back, everyone hears the sound of his back hitting the marble floor. He lays there for a second looking at her for a moment as if he underestimated her strength. With that thought he shakes his head knowing a little girl like her couldn’t be stronger than he’d expect, she’s rather short. The top of her head reaches his shoulder. Not only that but that means she’s been going easy with him in their workouts. They work out every morning and he’s never seen her throw something as heavy as him over her shoulder. Jumping up he turns around back to her with an easy going smile, she has her hip popped out and arms folded. Thor leans near Bruce and whispers into the silence with complete shock.

“I wasn’t informed that Y/N was the Queen of drama.”

“Not now, Thor.”

“Okay, okay, you had your fun.” Bucky sighs tiredly as he struts up to Y/N with a smug look, “You made a scene, flipped me over, so let’s just forget this whole little outburst and grab a beer. Dollface.”

“Don’t. Call. Me. Dollface.” Y/N threatens slowly before tilting her head knowingly and whispering, “HYDRA project.”

Bucky’s posture stiffen, he clenches his fists, his face is unreadable. Everyone in the room has a silent heart attack from Y/N’s cheap shot but he was just a moment ago doing the same thing. Bucky and Y/N face each other with the same dangerous expression. The two have fought plenty of times, usually to let off steam or for bragging rights but this was different. They were actually talking instead of just straight up punching. Their friends honestly didn’t know what to do, they were adults, they’re mature enough to resolve this themselves. Then again they both were mentally and physically messed up. Abruptly Bucky throws all his guns away from his person. A sly smile slips onto Y/N’s face at the gesture, she had just as much power over him as he did over her. Getting into her personal space Bucky tilts his head and whispers.

“You’re such a child.”

“Well, you’re such a cocky prick.”

Her words make him growl lowly while moving closers to her, she takes a few steps back but he takes more forwards. They play this game until Y/N’s back is to the wall and she can’t move. Bucky gazes looks hungry making Y/N question why she picked a fight with him. She always had to pick on with him, she fought with everyone in the Avenger but he was the only one to fight back. Maybe that’s why they were such close friends, she’ll tell him to fuck off and he would break into her room to figure out what’s wrong. She’ll tell him of course and he would do everything to fix it, even if he didn’t fix the problem she would feel 100 times better just by knowing her tried. This is different though, he’s not trying to fix it, it’s almost like he’s egging it on and Y/N’s prideful ass is taking the bait. Tilting his head to the side Bucky rests his hand on either side of Y/N’s head before saying with a smug look.

“At least I don’t pretend I’m not delicate.”

“That’s it!”

“You get Bucky, I’ll get Y/N.”

Tony speaks up instantly to Steve knowing Y/N is thinking irrationally right now. Just as Y/N shoves Bucky away and grabs a vase the guys go over to them in hopes to keep each other from killing one another. She throws the glass vase at Bucky causing him and Steve to duck, it hits the floor near their feet and it breaks into tiny pieces. Tony then grabs her by the arms just for her to flip him over like she did with Bucky earlier. He falls to the floor and she walks over him like he wasn’t even there. A coffee table is in Y/N’s way to Bucky so she easily kicks it out of her way to Bucky. The table slides unknowingly at the Avengers watching them. Some of the moves away and jump over it, Thor uses his hammer to break it and makes it impossible for the broken pieces not to hit his friends around him. Steve who’s pulling Bucky back sees the damage and says for the first time since he’s been frozen.

“Shit.”

Bucky hides a chuckle at the scene in front of him just before Y/N gets to him and punched him in the jaw. His expression goes from shock to mad within a second before pouncing on her. She moves and sweeps his legs before he can tackle her to the ground. He falls and she grabs a glass pot near a couch, she throws it at his laying form. He moves out of the way just a second before it hits the ground and breaks into a million shards. He groans in disbelief because he knows she was really aiming to hit him that time, jumping up he grabs the couch and slides it into her. She falls before she can throw a decorative plant at him. Letting out a heavy breath Buck realizes she’s more pissed than he realized and suddenly asks seriously.

“Are you seriously mad at me calling you delicate?”

“No, Bucky. I’m not mad, I’m just throwing shit for fun.” She growls as she jumps over the couch to get to him, “Of course I’m fucking mad! You’re like my best friend and you treat me like a burden!”

“Doll, you aren’t a burden-”

“Don’t call me that! And don’t you dare lie to me.” She spits out as she shoves him, well, he lets her shove him into the wall behind him, “Ever since I’ve joined you made it your job to baby me and I’ve had it!”

“I baby you because I don’t want you to get hurt!” He spins them around so he has her pinned to the wall as he explains in frustration, “I have not once seen you as some kind of burden to me or to the team.”

“Bullshit! Just admit it!” She barks as she tries to get out of his grasp, “You baby me because you see me as a problem.”

“Dollface… You have it all backward.”

Bucky whispers tiredly as he keeps his hold on Y/N so she won’t punch him. Steve helps Tony stand up behind the two by the wall. They glance at their other friends to make sure they are okay before looking cautiously at Buck and Y/N. Never have has any of them seen the two fight like this, they were always teasing each other or play fighting but never this. The team thought the two were too close to fight this badly. There has to be a more serious reason Y/N’s mad at Bucky, she usually is just annoyed when Bucky is overprotective of her. Maybe she doesn’t see it as being overprotective, maybe she sees Bucky trying to limiting her. That honestly wouldn’t surprise the team, they could tell Bucky likes being in charge of Y/N. Before the team can think any more of this irrational argument they hear Bucky mumble to Y/N so softly that could barely hear it.

“I try to protect you because I couldn’t handle you getting hurt.”

“Well, why don’t you baby Steve!” She fires back not exactly realizing what he meant, “I know you hate when he gets hurt but every time we’re out you-”

“Doll, you’re an exception.”

“It’s because I’m a girl, right? Let me tell you, you sexist-”

“No! For the love of God…”

He groans annoyed before throwing all caution out the window and slamming his lips to hers. She moans in surprise and her eyes go wide just as big as their friends. His hands loosen around her wrist letting her pull loose. Grabbing his shirt in the front aggressively she pulls him closer and shuts her eyes. He sighs in relief before leaning his body on her’s against the wall. One of Bucky’s hands goes to the small of her back to push her bottom half flush on his, this other weaves through her hair. She groans as she wraps her arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to her. Bucky begins pulling away from her causing her to follow him needingly. Chuckling Bucky gives her one last kiss before officially pulling away to look down at her. Biting her lip Y/N says breathlessly with the color pink coming to her cheeks.

“Oh… That’s why.”

“Yeah. That’s why, doll face.”

 “Well, well, well…” Their little bubble pops when they hear Tony say in a shit eating grin, “What I’d tell Y'all.”

Steve who’s standing right beside the millionaire playboy sends him an unamused look before punching him in the arm. He then turns to Bucky and gives him an easy wink making him look down to his feet before looking at the woman in his arms. Y/N opens her mouth to say something before the only kid in the room blurts out curiously.

“So who’s cleaning this mess up?”

Bucky and Y/N finally look away from each other, the team does the same and looks around. Everyone in the room realizes then it’s a bigger mess than they would have assumed. The coffee table, vase, and fake plant are broken into hundreds of pieces across the room. A couch and table are flipped over and in a weird position and a hand full of knives are in the wall along with a bunch of weapons scattered on the floor. Awkwardly Bucky and Y/N look back at each other, their little fight might have gotten too out of hand. Bursting out loud laughing the two look at each other like they should have expected this much from one another.

Dead Girl Walking (Connor Murphy X Reader)

WC: 2066

Warnings: Steamy content (well, the title gives that away)

Summary: Connor and Y/N get cast as JD and Veronica in their college production of Heathers. This doesn’t help the crush Y/N has been harbouring on Connor since freshman year of high school.

Tagged: @lildipstick @bellasabb @ahhhhamilton

A/N: Here it is!! This was partially inspired by some requests I got for this, and partially inspired by my Heathers!AU with @memeing-through-a-window

“Hello everyone! To those of you who do not take drama as a class, I am Mr Reyes. I will be directing this production.” Mr Reyes said, and there was a spattering of applause across the auditorium.

“Now, I’m sure you’re all dying to find out your roles in our upcoming production of Heathers. Here we go.” Mr Reyes said, and everyone inhaled sharply.

I crossed my fingers and looked over at my best friend Zoe, her eyes shut tightly in anticipation.

“In the role of Martha Dunnstock, Alana Beck.” Mr Reyes said and we all clapped politely, looking at Alana who was smiling brightly.

“The role of Kurt Kelly goes to Jake Dillinger, and Ram Sweeney goes to Richard Goranski.” A celebratory whoop came from a few rows back, and I chuckled at the boys’ reaction.

“The roles of Mr Kelly and Mr Sweeney will go to Michael Mell and Jeremy Heere.” I smirked slightly, knowing that Mr Reyes was slightly sneaky with his casting of those roles.

“Mr and Mrs Sawyer will be played by Chloe Valentine and Brooke Lohst.” I clapped softly, glancing over at the pair.

“And now, onto the Heathers themselves. Due to the lack of women interested in this production, we have had to give some of our Heathers to the men.” Mr Reyes said, and I snorted, drawing some attention.

“Heather McNamara will be played by Evan Hansen, and Heather Duke will be played by Jared Kleinman. Heather Chandler, our only female Heather, will be played by Zoe Murphy.” Mr Reyes said, and I squeezed Zoe’s hand.

She was smiling widely, and I knew she was going to crush it as Heather Chandler.

“The lovely Christine Canigula will be playing Ms Fleming.” Christine beamed at Mr Reyes, and I felt very happy for her.

“This leaves our two leading roles. Jason Dean will be played by Connor Murphy, and Veronica Sawyer goes to Y/N Y/L/N! Congratulations to you all.” Mr Reyes said, and I looked over at Connor, my eyes wide.

I’d been crushing on Connor since freshman year of high school, and here we are, freshman year of college, and those feelings haven’t gone away.

“Now, rehearsals will start next Wednesday, so be ready. The original cast recording is somewhere online, so listen to it. That’s all.” Mr Reyes said, ushering us out of the auditorium.

As soon as we were out the double doors, I was bombarded with various congratulations.

“You’re so lucky, oh my god.” Zoe said, wrapping me in a side hug. I felt my cheeks go pink, and I smiled gratefully at her.

“Thanks. I do, however, have to have fake sex with your brother onstage. You know how I feel about him, Zo.” I said and Zoe cackled, throwing her head back.

“Well, let’s just say things might end up working out for you two.” She said, winking at me. My cheeks went a brighter pink, and I went to say something, but was interrupted by someone coughing.

I whirled around to see Connor standing there, his hair partially covering his face.

“Hey Y/N. Can I talk to you for a sec?” Connor asked and I nodded, glancing back briefly at Zoe.

Connor shot me a half smile, and walked away. I trailed behind him, jogging slightly.

“So, what’s up?” I asked, catching my breath a little. Connor rocked back and forth on his heels, and I frowned slightly.

“Well, I was just wondering, seeing as we’re going to be spending a lot of time together onstage and in rehearsals, if maybe you wanted to go grab some lunch with me?” Connor asked, wringing his hands together.

My cheeks went a bright shade of pink, and I nodded eagerly. “Absolutely. I mean, yeah, of course.” I said, realising I was probably coming on too strong.

“Awesome. I’ll, uh, meet you here at 12. Today.” Connor said and I smiled brightly at him.
“Bye Y/N.” He said, and I waved him off.

“Bye Connor.”


“You guys are coming along incredibly. Everyone except Y/N and Connor can go.” Mr Reyes said, and I glanced over at Connor awkwardly.

Everyone else trailed out of the auditorium, until it was just Connor, Mr Reyes and I left.

“Now, I thought you two would appreciate not having everyone else in the room for this next song.” Mr Reyes said and I gulped, looking at Connor with wide eyes.

“I think you two both know which song I’m talking about. We won’t go through the full choreography just yet, but we still need to start rehearsing it.” Mr Reyes said, patting the both of us on the shoulder.

I took in a deep breath and walked up onto the stage, fidgeting with my blazer. I wasn’t in my proper costume, but I was wearing an outfit that resembled my costume.

“From the top, you two.” Mr Reyes said, pressing play on the music. It started playing and I bit my lip.

“The demon queen of high school has decreed it. She says Monday eight am, I’ll be deleted.” I sang, glancing over at Connor briefly.

“They’ll hunt me down in study hall. Stuff and mount me on the wall. Thirty hours to live, how shall I spend them?” I sang, walking forward a little.

“I don’t have to stay and die like cattle. I could change my name and ride up to Seattle. But I don’t own a motorbike.” I looked up at Connor, who was now lying down on the raised platform.

“Wait. Here’s an option that I like. Spend these thirty hours getting freaky! I need it hard, I’m a dead girl walking. I’m in your yard, I’m a dead girl walking.” I sang, walking up the platform stairs.

“Before they punch my clock, I’m snapping off your window lock. Got no time to knock, I’m a dead girl walking.” I sang, standing in front of Connor, who was now on his feet.

“Veronica. What are you doing in my room?” Connor asked, and I shushed him, waving my hand about wildly. Mr Reyes chuckled, and I took in a deep breath.

“Sorry, but I really had to wake you. See, I’ve decided I must ride you till I break you.” Connor’s eyes widened at this line, and Mr Reyes’ laughter increased.

“Heather says I gots to go, you’re my last meal on death row. Shut your mouth, and lose them tightie whities. C'mon!” I sang, undoing my blazer.

“Tonight I’m yours, I’m your dead girl walking. Get on all fours, kiss this dead girl walking.” I said, shoving Connor down by his shoulders.

“Let’s go, you know the drill. I’m hot, and pissed, and on the pill. Bow down to the will of a dead girl walking.” I sang, trying to keep my voice even as Connor’s hands crept up near the hem of my skirt.

I crouched down, looking Connor in the eye. I noticed that one of his eyes was coloured differently, and I felt my heart lurch.

“And you know, you know, you know. It’s cause you’re beautiful. You say you’re numb inside, but I can’t agree.” I sang, putting my hands on Connor’s chest.

His chest was surprisingly firm, and his face was rapidly reddening. “So the world’s unfair. Keep it locked out there. In here it’s beautiful. Let’s make this beautiful.”

“That works for me.” I pressed my lips to Connor’s, and kissed him with fervour. He kissed back eagerly, and I pulled off my blazer, still keeping our lips together.

I pulled off his shirt, and I let out a gasp at the sight of his bare chest. I pulled away from the kiss, and noticed Connor’s eyes cloud with something dark.

I pushed him down so he was on his back, and I was straddling him, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

I started kissing his neck and moved my lips further down his chest, kissing furiously.

“Yeah! Full steam ahead, take this dead girl walking.” I sang, reluctantly pulling away from Connor.

“How’d you find my address?” Connor sang, sitting up slightly.

“Let’s break the bed, rock this dead girl walking!” I sang, throwing my arms up in the air.

“I think we tore my mattress.” Connor sang, glancing towards the ground.

“No sleep tonight for you. Better chug that Mountain Dew.” I sang, getting a good look at Connor. His eyes wide, his cheeks flushed and his hair mused.

“Okay, okay.” He sang quietly, earning a chuckle from Mr Reyes.

“Get your ass in gear. Make this whole town disappear.”

“Okay, okay.” Connor sang, his voice stronger this time.

“Slap me.” Connor stage slapped me at this line, and my cheek tingled at the contact.

“Pull my hair.” Connor tugged my head back by my hair, and tangled his fingers in my hair.

“Touch me there, and there, and there.” My breath hitched as Connor’s hands roamed over my ass and breasts.

“No more talking. Love this dead girl walking.” I sang, hitting the high note with ease. Connor sang his part with ease, and I drank in the sight of him beneath me.

“Love this dead girl! Yeah, yeah, yeah!” We both sang together, our bodies harmonising perfectly.

“Ow!” Connor said, grimacing slightly.

“Yeah!” We both sang, and I was surprised at how well Connor could sing. The music concluded, and we were both panting.

Mr Reyes applauded, and I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. “Very well done, you two! You have excellent chemistry, I must say.” Mr Reyes said, as I awkwardly clambered off Connor.

We picked up our clothes and pulled them back on, smiling as we walked off the stage.

“I’ll see you at Friday’s rehearsal. I can’t stress how good that performance was, especially for a rehearsal.” Mr Reyes said as we left the auditorium.

The doors slammed shut behind us, and the air became thick with awkwardness. “I, uh.” I stammered, my cheeks burning.

“I’ll, um, see you on Friday.” Connor muttered, walking away quickly staring at the ground as he did.


“Opening night, people! I just wanted to congratulate you all on your work over the past couple of months, so, congratulations!” Mr Reyes said, applauding us.

I fidgeted anxiously with my costume, the indigo scarf I was wearing seeming to weigh a ton.

“Hey, Y/N, you ok?” Connor asked, and I turned on my heel to face him. The dark costume of JD suited him perfectly, and I felt seriously attracted to him.

“I’m really nervous. What if I screw up? What if I can’t hit one of the high notes? Ugh.” I said, running a hand through my hair.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Connor said, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. I looked up at him, noticing the stage makeup that accented his already beautiful features.

“You are going to knock this out of the park. Your voice is absolutely stunning, and I have the utmost faith in you and your abilities.” Connor said, moving his hands from my shoulders to my cheeks.

I felt my cheeks flush, and I noticed Connor’s cheeks were a similar colour. “Thanks.” I muttered, looking right into Connor’s eyes.

He rubbed circles on my cheek with his thumb, and I took in a deep breath. I leaned forward and connected my lips with Connor’s.

His eyes widened briefly, but he closed them quickly, kissing back eagerly. I tangled my hands in Connor’s hair, tugging on it gently.

He let out a groan, and he moved his hands to my waist, pulling me closer to him. Suddenly we heard a cough and pulled apart, turning to see where the cough had come from.

We saw Zoe standing there in full costume, a smirk wide on her face. “God, Veronica, drool much?” She said and I snorted, glancing up at Connor.

“It’s not like I’m throwing my panties at him, Heather.” I said, and I noticed Connor freeze momentarily.

“Oh, but you will be soon enough.” Zoe said, winking at the two of us. She walked off with a perfected strut, and I let out a sigh.

“She’s the worst.” Connor muttered and I chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“She’s not that bad, Con.” I said, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“My god, I love you so much.”

Bad Temper

MASTERLIST

Requested: Jealous Shawn. Not sure I like this but I tried. 

Word count: 2,658

“I think this might actually be it!” I said, folding the last box together. I ran my fingers through my hair, breathing out heavily. 

I thought it would never end. No matter where I looked, there had always been more boxes to start on. But now, I’d actually unpacked the last one.

“What?” Shawn yelled from the other room, fumbling with his precious guitars as always. 

Keep reading

13 | You’ll Never Walk Alone

BTS + GOT7 X READER [GANG!AU]

WORD COUNT: 5,345

series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, substance abuse, eventual smut. this chapter contains graphic content such as violence, gruesome torture, death, blood, wound details and grief

Originally posted by manwalage

masterlist | ask | prev | next

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I’ll Keep You Safe // A Stiles Stilinski AU

Collab with @sarcasticallystilinski

Prompt: What if you had a countdown on your arm telling you exactly who you’re going to lose next?

Relationship: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Oral (Male on Female), Virginity Loss, Skinny Dipping, Swearing, and So much fucking angst. Make sure you have tissues ready. 

Word Count: 12,271 

Song: I’ll Keep You Safe by Sleeping At Last

A/N: This is without a doubt one of the best fics Hayley and I have ever written. Not just as a collab, but amongst our own works as well. We are both so fucking in love with this story and I hope you guys love it as much as we do. Words cannot explain how amazing and beautiful this fic is to me.

If you are the kind of person who enjoys reading bubbly love stories with happy endings than I must advice you now that this story is not one of those. Because I am about to tell you the story of two lovers so addicted to each other and so connected to the other that they cheated death itself — only to be struck by another wave of agonizing tragedy instead.

Y/N Y/L/N and Stiles Stilinski were the two greatest lovers time and the universe have ever witnessed… and that drove them insane. Jealousy taking over both of their features, the universe did everything it could to separate the two until finally time found a vicious way to win. How could they have known a force so much stronger and so much darker than the incredible love they shared had begun to take over?

It didn’t matter how hard they tried to fight back nor how much they begged time for mercy, their destinies were already paved. All they could do was accept its path and believe in the quote life had beautifully taught them:

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.

Keep reading

The Fourth Musketeer

Originally posted by riverdales-daily

Pairing: Archie x Reader

Description: A small comment from Betty triggers many painful memories for Archie about a lost love.

Warnings: angst?

Word count: 1,405

Tag list: @isis278 @lost-in-wonderland-x @spam-to-follow

A/N: so this isn’t based off of any request, I was just inspired to write this fic. hope you enjoy!


“It’ll be like old times,” Betty said, hopeful eyes staring at Archie.

“The three musketeers,” he laughed.  Betty bit her lip, her smile slightly fading.

“Actually, Archie,” she corrected, “there were four of us.”

“(Y/N)!” a newly-turned six year old Archie exclaimed.  "I didn’t think you were gonna come!“

"Of course I came!” (Y/N) giggled, stepping into the Andrews house.  "You’re my best friend.“ Archie pulled (Y/N) into a hug.

"You’re my best friend too, (Y/N),” he grinned.

“Yeah, four of us,” Archie muttered, turning away from Betty. She frowned, realizing she reopened that wound too soon.

“I’m sorry Archie, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, Betty,” Archie grimaced.

“No, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” she apologized.

“But there were four of us,” Archie admitted.  "I guess I was just trying to forget the fourth.“

"Why do we only come here when they play this movie?” ten year old (Y/N) questioned, gesturing towards the movie playing on the Twilight Drive-In screen.  Archie shrugged, wrapping his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders.

“Because it’s my favorite,” he replied.  (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“Don’t you want to watch something else for a change?” she asked, looking up at him with a smile.  "You know, discover something new?“

"No,” Archie refused her suggestion, immaturely shaking his head.  "I like things just the way they are.“

Archie couldn’t get (Y/N) out of his head for the rest of the day.  Throughout school, and after school during the preparations for Jughead’s party, Archie’s mind kept going back to (Y/N).  For two years, he had blocked out all memories of her.  Now, she was pictured clear in his mind.  Her memory was haunting him, and Archie could do nothing but push through the day as if nothing was wrong.

"Archie,” (Y/N) whimpered, standing on his front porch.  He ran out towards her and enveloped her in a hug as soon as he reached her.

“What?” he asked, burying his face into her hair.  "What’s wrong?“  (Y/N) gripped onto his t-shirt, her hands desperately holding onto her best friend.

"I’m moving,” she sobbed.  "I’m moving next month.“  Archie’s arms dropped, and he took a step back.

"Moving?” he echoed.  "But what about 8th grade?“  (Y/N) helplessly shrugged, tears continuing to roll down her cheeks.  "It’s our last year before high school. We were gonna…”  The rest of Archie’s sentence was stuck in his throat.

“I know,” she cried.  "I know, Archie. You think I wanted this?“  He frantically shook his head.

"No, no, of course not.”

“We’re leaving in July,” she explained.  "I tried to convince my parents not to move, or at least to leave me behind.“

"You could stay with us,” Archie offered.  A bittersweet smile creeped onto (Y/N)’s lips.

“I know,” she said. “I told them that.”

“Jesus, (Y/N),” Archie mumbled as he stumbled into his bedroom, ignoring the party going on downstairs.  "(Y/N).“  He repeated her name over and over again, reminiscing on the way her name felt on his tongue.  All the memories that he had hidden away from himself came tumbling back, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions that he had forgotten how they felt.  He frustratedly tugged at his hair, struggling to cope with his feelings.  Her sparkling eyes and joyous laugh were still engraved in the back of his mind.  How could he ever forget?  "God, (Y/N), I’m so sorry.”  He continued to drunkenly pace around his room, head spinning with memories of (Y/N).  Every moment they shared, every hug they had, every chance he missed to tell her he loved her.  He missed every single opportunity he had to tell her.  "I should’ve told her,“ he moaned.  An idea lit up in Archie’s mind, so he began to search his room.  He tossed clothes and blankets aside until he found his phone laying on his nightstand.  He picked it up and immediately dialed (Y/N)’s number by memory.

"I’m sorry, this number no longer exists,” the monotonous robot answered his call.  Archie screamed out in frustration, throwing his phone across his room against the wall.

“I want to talk to her!” he screamed, punching his bed.  "I need her!“

"Archie?” Veronica called out as she cautiously his room.  He paused his rampage as he turned to face the raven-haired girl.

“What?” he snapped.

“You’re making a lot of noise,” Veronica ignored the bite in his voice.  "I wanted to make sure you’re okay.“

"I’m not…” he clutched his head, sitting down on his bed, “I’m not okay.  She’s gone.”

“Who?” Veronica questioned, sitting next to Archie.

“(Y/N),” he moaned.  "(Y/N)’s gone.“

"Who’s that?” Veronica asked.  Archie glared at her and stood up, stepping away from her.

“I loved her,” he whispered, flopping back onto his bed.  Veronica frowned.  "God, I should’ve left Riverdale when my mom offered.“

"But then we would’ve never met,” Veronica quipped.  "And that, Archiekins, would be a tragedy of epic proportions.“  She glanced at his lips, then back up to his eyes.  Leaning in, she connected her lips with his.  It only lasted a moment before Archie pulled away.

"No, Veronica,” he stopped her.  "I’m sorry, but… you’re not her.“

"I’m sorry,” she apologized.  "That was stupid and selfish of me, I shouldn’t have-“

"It’s fine,” Archie interrupted her.  "It’s not your fault, I just… the wound is still kinda fresh, you know?“  Veronica nodded.

"She sounds lovely,” she offered.  "Can you tell me about her?“  Archie inhaled deeply.

"We were best friends,” he started, and a smile already grew on his face.  "Our parents were good friends, so we knew each other since birth.  We were two peas in a pod.  Then we met Jughead and Betty, and we became the four musketeers.  We’d do everything together.  But (Y/N) and I were still the closest.“

"When did you fall in love with her?” Veronica inquired.

“I think I always was,” Archie answered truthfully.  Veronica sighed; she knew there was no competing with even the memory of (Y/N).  "But I don’t think I realized it until I kissed her.“

"Did you know some people have already had their first kiss?” (Y/N) asked Archie as she sat on a swing.

“Like who?” he questioned.  They were eleven.

“I heard Cheryl kissed someone,” (Y/N) shrugged.  "I don’t know who though.“

"She could be lying,” Archie said.

“Josie, too,” (Y/N) interjected.

“Maybe they kissed each other,” Archie laughed, and (Y/N) giggled with him.  Once their laughs died down, they swung in silence.

“Who do you want to be your first kiss?” (Y/N) broke the silence.

“I don’t know,” Archie shrugged.  "What about you?“

"There’s not really anyone I want to kiss,” she answered.  "The only good guys in Riverdale are you and Jughead.“

"Would you kiss Jughead?”

“Ew, no!” she squealed.  "Jughead is like my brother!“

"Am I a brother to you?” Archie asked.  (Y/N) grew quiet and shrugged.

“You’re my best friend, Arch,” she responded.

“So does that mean you would kiss me?” he smirked.  (Y/N) blushed.

“Would you kiss me?” she countered, causing Archie to blush.  They both grew quiet, each embarrassed by the thought of kissing each other.

“I’d want you to be my first kiss,” he said.  (Y/N)’s head snapped up to look at Archie.

“Really?” she asked.  He nodded.  "I want you to be my first kiss too.“

"What if…” Archie nervously stuttered, “What if we did it now?  Like, kiss each other.  Just so that we’re definitely each other’s first kiss.”  (Y/N) pretended to contemplate it for a moment, but she already knew her answer.

“Sure,” she agreed nonchalantly.  Her heart was about to beat out of her chest.  Archie jumped off of the swing and stepped towards (Y/N).  Both of their eyes fluttered closed, and they pressed their lips against each other’s.  They pulled apart a second after, a blush spreading across both of their cheeks.  Archie hopped back onto the swing next to (Y/N).  Neither of them spoke about the kiss.

“Do you think she knew?” Veronica asked.  Archie raised a puzzled eyebrow.  "Do you think she knew that you loved her?“ she elaborated.  Archie shrugged.

"Maybe,” he responded.  "I hope so.  I never told her, though.  God, I should’ve told her.“

"Hey,” Veronica reached a comforting hand out towards Archie.  "Don’t beat yourself up over it.  From what you told me, it sounds like she knew.“

"You think so?”

“I do,” Veronica nodded.  "And from what I can tell, I think she loved you too.“

Part two here     Part three here     Part four here     Part five here