So lemme tell you guys about the first time Nesta bit Cassian
It was a beautiful starry night, but it was raining. Raining SUPER HARD. And Cassian, being Cassian was like “oooooh why don’t I drag Nesta into Velaris in the RAIN for some mundane errand just because I like her face and can’t ask her out like a NORMAL PERSON” so Nesta is grumbling and complaining and soaking wet (in more ways than one HEH) and Cassian just drags her by the hand through the rain chatting away. And she’s trying so hard not to focus on the way the raindrops slide down his chiseled face and his eyes are so bright and his damn MUSCLES ugh. It’s infuriating. So he takes her to this shop he’d said he needed her help getting something from and “aw. Darn. It’s closed. Whoops.” And Nesta is just like “ARE YOU KIDDING ME. You dragged me through the rain KNOWING it was closed didn’t you?” And cassian just smirks and she LOSES IT. She shoves him against the brick wall in a nearby alley quicker than he can blink and next thing he knows she’s pressing her soaked body against him and she is BITING HIS NECK. She pulls back immediately - terrified at the way her instincts took over and MORE terrified that holy shit Cassian is looking at her like he wants to devour her and… holy shit she wants him to.
The tenants above the alleyway are forever scarred by the noises of their High Lord’s Army Commander moaning their High Lady’s sister’s name very… very loudly as he pins her against the bricks and fucks her senseless.
Castiel imagine requested by anon! “For Cas, what if only angels soulmates can see their wings, and when the boys introduce you to Castiel, you compliment his wings, the boys can’t see them and wonder why, and Castiel gets all embarrassed and tells you why.” Alright, minions, this is the first installment of a many, many part series. All future installments will be posted on the “The Story Continues…” page. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. On my old blog, this was my single most popular imagine, and my most popular series. I’ve grown incredibly fond. This imagine has been edited for reposting to add a little detail here and there. Hope you like it!
“Look, Y/n, he’s not the tea party type, alright? He’s not used to-” Dean circled his hands at chest-height, his eyes scanning the overcast skies for the proper wording, the exact emphasis he could use to adequately describe this angel you’d heard so much about. Dean settled on a term, his eyes dropping back to yours, cautious and confident in the same moment, emotions swirling together as one. “Human stuff. Give him some time, he’ll get better. You just have to let him get used to you. Trust me; you’ll love him.” He assured, his hand on your back guiding you through the doorway and into the Men Of Letters bunker. You were just now returning home from a rather successful vampire hunt with Dean, having slain three and purified two new recruits. The rough denim of your jeans suctioned to your skin beneath with drying blood, crimson paint coating your body in splashes and bucket-fulls. A lot of blood is produced when you sever a head. You would have been safer, and quite a lot cleaner, in a hazmat suit and galoshes. You admitted you looked atrocious, so splattered in gore as you were, but Dean assured you that Castiel would pay no attention to your physical appearance. An angel thing, he had warned. All they were supposed to see were glowing orbs of light or… he didn’t know, lists of sins scribed across your skin. Dean’s lips had ducked to your ear, lowering his voice despite the fact that you were alone, standing outside the bunker’s second entrance. “Oh, and let him know if you don’t like the whole mind-reading thing. Angel thing.”
You shook the recent memory of Dean’s warnings from your head, quieting your assumptions (lest this Castiel sneak a peak inside your head) as you were lead inside the bunker and down the spiral stairs gracing the foyer. Your hand trailed over the wrought iron railing, the smooth, cold surface gliding beneath your skin, your fingers holding to the banister as long as was possible before your arm smacked into your side. Your feet reached ground-level as you progressed towards the library, your eyes falling on the electronic table you had helped Charlie boot up. Well, holding her hair out of her face as she fiddled with copper wires hardly counted as helping, but she insisted you were crucial to the operation, supplying her with conversation as she broke down the hunting communities most highly protected database. The fixture now served as a map of the world, lighting up with every monstrous location known to hunters and civilians alike. Of course, the civilians had no idea they were waltzing around during human open-season, hence the existence of your occupation.
Dean’s hand left your back stranded, your tie broken like the orbit of a moon around a destroyed planet, his eyes cautioning you once more before directing your gaze to the two men huddled by each other, concealed by a brilliant mass of light and feathers. You felt your jaw unhinge and drop, your vision going hazy from the sheer magnificence of the sight before you. God, how did they even fit in here? How overwhelming it must become, to live in such close proximity to these… these… intoxicatingly delicate wings.The shuddering canopy of gray feathers brushed against the bookshelves, the table, the light fixtures… like liquid, they molded themselves around everything, catching the lamplight like dulled gemstones. The feathers bristled when Dean’s footsteps filled the room, his heavy boots alerting the duo of your arrival before you feet could cross the threshold. Then, as if following the complicated choreography to some kind of obscenely organized dance, the two men turned to acknowledge your return. The feathers skirted around anything they may topple, intricate maneuvers keeping stacks of books from falling to the floor, every single plume flowing as if on a wave. When you found the resolve to turn away from the magnificence around you, you saw Sam’s face was bursting with happiness to see you returned unharmed, though you were coated quite generously with blood.
You sorted through the impossible amount of fluttering feathers until your eyes rested upon an unfamiliar face. The angel’s expression was stoic, unfeeling save his eyes, which pooled with crystalline curiosity, his gaze dissecting your every feature. His shoulders straightened, pushing back with rigid formality, his wings flattening as best they could behind him. For such an immense mass as his wings, the extensions were downsized impressively, though the very tips of his wings yearned for freedom, feathers bristling. You clenched your teeth together, fearing you seemed rude, gawking at the angel’s hardware with such unapologetic curiosity. Then again, the angel’s eyes had done the same to your face. It must be another angel thing Dean had forgotten to mention during your ride home. The Winchester in question stepped forward, gesturing to the celestial being nestled into the confines of the library, both brothers seemingly oblivious to the masses that grew from Castiel’s shoulder blades. Were they really that used to it? You didn’t think you’d ever grow accustomed to the intimidating wings.
“Cas, this is Y/n. Y/n, Cas.” Dean grumbled, taking a seat and kicking off his blood-slick boots as he finished his informal introduction. You gave a little wave, moving forward and into the library with intent to shake the angel’s hand. As you drew nearer, the angel’s eyes widened, though the rest of his face and body remained unmoving. He extended his hand, his palm sliding easily into yours. His warmth was unlike anything you’d ever experienced from so cold a demeanor.
“Nice to meet you,” you mumbled, still awe-stricken. Up close, they were even grander; the feathers were singing against each other, humming a sweet, soft tune. It was as if bells were rung as a lullaby, or (you concluded, unimpressed with your slow-moving connection) as if an angel were singing. He released your hand after an extended moment (or were you just too absorbed in his wings to account for time?), your eyes skirting back to the brilliance behind him. Where the artificial light branded them, they shot off every color you could name, and some you couldn’t, shattering spectrums like a faceted diamond. Their dulled reflections were vibrant now. Perhaps it was your proximity? His eyes, you noticed, had followed yours, a genuine expression of confusion and… diluted relaxation painting his chiseled face. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” you complimented, your tone breathy in appreciation. Castiel’s gaze locked on you, a sudden, silent movement of the eye, his wings going silent, completely immobile, not a single feather daring to move. The angel’s face now held the faint contouring of shock. Sam’s brow was pinched, his mouth quizzical.
“Yeah, he’s a looker, we know,” Dean scoffed, coaxing a chuckle from his younger brother at your apparent loss of control. “Jesus, Y/n, pull it together,” Dean whispered, his smile infectious. You shook your head at their idiocy, too invested in the angel’s glorious wings to bother blushing from embarrassment, your eyes locking with Castiel’s, their ocean-esque depth reeling you in. Perhaps this was an angel thing… those eyes. They were hardened sapphires, glowing internally as if each stone had harvested a single flame. His face had yet to shift, his wings yet to move, his form rigid as a plank under your inspection. Maybe it was rude to stare.
“No… I mean, well, yeah, but… his wings,” You stammered, irritated by the brothers’ lack of interest in the beauty they hadn’t warned you of, watching realization and something close to fear burst in the angel’s divine eyes. Dean made a sound of gruff uncertainty, the sound almost missed entirely under the sound of flustered bells… if bells could become flustered. Castiel’s hand had wrapped around your wrist, his skin flooding your arm with heat, the sing of his wings unwinding as if relieved their owner was in contact with you. Castiel began to move then, leading you to the corner of the library, his hands gripping your wrists by your sides, releasing your hands once your fingers had spread against the wall behind you. The murmuring of bells increased, pealing in what sounded, absurdly, to be a whine.
“The Hell is she talking about, Cas?” Sam inquired, the angel rolling his eyes at his comment, his pupils diving into yours, his attention split unwillingly from his scientific analysis of your eyes.
“She was attempting to make a joke of my race,” Castiel explained, his eyes searching yours with complete concentration. You were certain he was joking, only his tone never deviated from a professional, if slightly disconnected, quality. Sam let out a breathy laugh before turning away, his hazel eyes praising your falsified wit. Your back bit into the wall as Castiel inched closer, careful to keep a respectful distance between your body and his. He lowered his voice, bringing his face closer to your own. He was clearly unfazed by the amount of gore painting your body, just as Dean had promised. "Please forgive my explanation. They cannot… humans aren’t supposed to be able to…” he trailed off, his eyes ducking to the floorboards as he fought for words. “What you see is a fragment of my true visage, something neither Sam nor Dean nor anyone else can view. My wings are only visible to one human. I had assumed that human would never come in contact with me. The odds are very slim,” his voice dropped once again, his eyes scanning the molding that tied the wall to the floor, his head shaking slowly. His ocean eyes lifted to meet yours once again, the fire within burning with a serious intensity. “This gift you possess is granted only to those destined to… fall for an angel. Do you understand? You may have heard it referred to as having a soul mate.“ If his proximity hadn’t startled you, his statement surely did the job. This was not merely an angel thing.
You inhaled slowly, watching his wings unfurl around you like a shield, blocking the brothers from your view. He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, clearly in an attempt to wrench his feathers away from you, but the duel masses were having none of his resistance; the quills trilled against each other, tips reaching, stretching toward you. He spoke apologies with his eyes, his cheeks glowing dimly with his embarrassment. You tentatively reached for the feathers at the very bottom of his wings, the billowy plumes that were brushing against your side, your fingertip encountering only cloud. Your touch activating a higher pitched song, as if you had excited them. Your heart as well had been excited; you felt as if you’d recently recovered from a high-voltage shock, the way your pulse was racing. Glancing at his face, you realized you’d made him blush deeper, either by your touch or by your presence, you couldn’t be sure. Your mouth stretched into a shaky, timid smile, though your mind was unable to comprehend how you already felt so close to this stranger… but you were not nearly close enough to fling yourself into his arms and prance (or more appropriately, fly) off into the sunset. The angel nodded, his eyes sympathetic and… disappointed, it seemed, though he obviously meant to hide that emotion.
"I’m aware that love is generally a longer process for you, and I’m willing to give you the time necessary for you to be comfortable. It’s… overwhelming, I know.” To this, you nodded, thankful for his understanding of the human species, remembering that your thoughts weren’t safeguarded from Castiel. He ducked his head, though his eyes flickered to your face, closing in comfortable bliss as you buried your fingers in his wings, their exhilarated song filling you with warmth.
You couldn’t get the image of Mark Tuan and the girl kissing out of your head. It was puzzling for you to see that the guy who took your virginity willingly made the move to kiss some girl he barely knew. Yet again, he didn’t know you and things went further especially when he just got out of a serious relationship. You groaned with guilt for letting it happen the way it did. You’ve yet to see his face, but you almost want to punch it. You wanted to assume he was one of those stuck up male trainees who knew girls wanted them. Goodness, you hated jerks like that. You tried to feel regret for giving up your innocence, but you couldn’t. Oddly, you couldn’t hate him for it either because it was a mutual agreement. You had wanted it too that’s why he continued.
Your hands were shaking furiously. They’d made you feel worthless, undeserving, like a failure. And you punished yourself for hating them. You should be grateful for all your parents had done for you, but here you were hating them. You punished yourself for hating them, but you punished yourself for loving them after EVERYTHING they’d done to you. You were stuck in this everlasting cycle, where no matter what, you made yourself the problem. They always spoke to you like they were the victim. Like you were stupid and disrespectful. So you questioned whether you really were unreasonable with them, and that led to more self-punishment. You ran your hands into your hair and grasped firmly, tightly, bordering in painful. You were seeking pain at this point. Anything real to keep you grounded while your mental state crumbled away. You sat in the couch and kept your hands in your hair, head between your knees as you tried to control your breathing. You clench your fists tightly until your nails start to pinch your palms. You just needed him. He knew what it was like, being made to feel like nothing. He’d opened up to you, and maybe it was about time you did the same. Your arms were tensed as you wandered up the stairs. He was in the bedroom flicking through maps and documents. You relaxed at the sight of him. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Rafe, it was just that you’d never had a strong enough reason to cry in front of him.
You wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his back.
‘Hey.’ He said in an absent-minded greeting. You hum in response. ‘You’d think…’ He released a map from his fingers and it floated back onto the desk surface slowly, 'after all these hours I’d have made some sort of progress.’ You bit your lip, the emptiness in the pit of your stomach pushing tears out your eyes, and you swallowed over and over, and held your breath to stop the noises and sobs from escaping. You kept completely still, but your arms instinctively clung tighter to him.
'Yeah, you’d think.’ You tried to sound upbeat, sarcastic even, but an unexpected crack in your voice betrays you. You mentally scold yourself.
'Y/N?’ He turned his head to get a better look at you. And it made you crack. You barked out a cry, tears spilling and sinking into the fabric of his shirt. Rafe immediately dropped the papers and turned around. You withdrew your arms and held them uselessly in front of you while your body shook with sobs. Rafe was stunned still, hands on your shoulders as he tried to think of what to do. He’d never seen you cry before; it was a totally new side to him. One that he hadn’t hoped to see, but he had wondered why you hadn’t cried like this before. He stammered, mouth opening and closing.
You slowed your breathing, burying the heels of your palms in your eyes.
'It’s okay,’ you smiled through the shaky breaths, 'you don’t have to say anything I just- ugh, it’s nothing I swear.’ You let out a laugh to reassure him. When you meet his eyes with your puffy red ones, tears dripping off your top lashes onto your cheeks, he looks positively petrified. Then you instantly regret crying in front of him. He struggled to get a hold on his emotions as it was, much less other people’s. Or yours.
'Uh…’ He swallowed. He was panicked. He wasn’t expecting to deal with an explosion of emotion just now. So you just hugged him, letting him know he didn’t need to say anything, just be there. He sat next to you on the edge of the bed.
'What’s wrong?’ Rafe mumbled. It made your heart ache for him.
'I didn’t mean to jump this on you.’ You smile again.
'You smile an awful lot when you cry.’
'Sorry, sir.’ You quip back at him, smiling sadly.
'I’m sorry I’m the worst person for this.’ He rubs your back with one hand, the other draped lazily over his knee.
'Rafe you’re the best person for this right now. Has it ever occurred to you that you’re the first person I’ve cried in front of for like… A year. I refuse to cry in front of people. I built up such a positive reputation for myself, that I’m worried if people see me cry it’ll poison that. And people won’t come to me for help. I want to help people, but if people see I have problems, they often pity me instead of letting me help them with whatever they have going on. I’m not saying people have to come to me, but… I dunno. I shut myself up for people, but that doesn’t mean I condone it. I shut myself up because I don’t want other people to shut themselves up. It’s hypocritical but it works.’
'You’ve never done that for me, right?’
'What do you mean?’
'You’ve never shut away your problems for me, right? When I opened up to you, tell me you didn’t used to cry alone because you were scared I wouldn’t be open with you. Tell me you’ve never hidden yourself away for my benefit.’
He let his head drop forward.
'I’m sorry.’ You said in unison, and he pulled you into his lap.
'Never again.’ You promise, nuzzling into his neck and placing soft kisses there. You fell back with him and laid there in comfortable silence, kissing his neck in the most comforting way while he stroked your hair. He’d fetched you a box of tissues, and as you lay with him, you clutched a tear soaked sheet.
'Why were you crying?’ Rafe finally asks, and you curl into his side, stroking his chest.
'I held it in too long.’
'But what triggered it?’
'Bad people. We’ll talk about it later I just wanna lay with you.’ You mutter against him. A lump rose in Rafe’s throat. He was glad you weren’t watching him. He wanted to crush you to him and hug you so tightly. It was something about the way you said it. Just the way you had kissed his neck without any other motive. The way you didn’t want to talk, rather just have him there was enough. It made his stomach swoop and it boggled his mind.
Your head shot up at that, looking him dead in the eye as he laid on his back. 'Why would you say that?’
He sat himself up, brows furrowed.
'Because if I had asked you what was wrong you wouldn’t have built it up. I would’ve been more approachable. I know how unapproachable I am, I don’t want that for you.’ His face was stern. You looked at him in disbelief. You weren’t offended, you were… Almost horrified at how quickly he blamed himself for something that wasn’t on him. It was never on him.
You held up the tissue in your hand.
'Do you know why this happened?’
'Because I didn’t ask you? Because I wasn’t good enough? How many reasons do you want, I got hundreds-’
'And how many of them don’t blame you? Rafe this was never your fault. Ever. This is me. This is all on me and my shit. I held it all in by myself, does that sound like your fault?’ He shook his head. 'I kept a secret from you, does that sound like your fault?’ He shook his head again.
'No. No buts. I hid myself away, but when I let it out, and I came to see you, you were there for me, brilliantly, perfectly. You were what I needed - who I needed - when I needed it. I’m not blaming myself for pity points, Rafe. I’m blaming myself because I am the one to blame. And not only that, I’m blaming myself because you need to understand that not everything bad that happens to me, is your fault. Not everything bad that happens to you is your fault, and not everything bad that that may happen in this relationship is your fault. Please, please understand that. Blame yourself when it’s due. And if you don’t know who to blame, blame the sky or something, or the guy down the road, but never yourself.’ You leant down to kiss him, slow and passionate and filled with affection. You pulled back. 'But… If you blame the guy down the road don’t kill him or anything. That… That’d be bad…’ You smiled, looking at his lips, his nose, the shape of his face and how his cheekbones were chiselled so finely. And at your reflection in his eyes and how you belonged there.
'I love you so much, Rafe.’ Rafe wouldn’t let your lips be away from his for another moment. He pulled you down and under, appreciating every divot and inch of you, because you’d lifted such a heavy weight from him, and if he didn’t cling to you now he’d float away.
'I love you,’ he said, 'I love you, I love you, I love you,’ the shape of your collarbones were made for his lips, the shapes of your fingers were meant for his fingers, everything about you fit him so perfectly, everybody else just looked crooked. He’d mapped every part of you to the point he couldn’t get lost, and it made him feel safe. And he made it his mission, his purpose, to appreciate every acre of you.
My wifi has been a piece of shit lately, haven’t uploaded much D: hope this makes up for it :3 MWAH
Fred Weasley Dirty Imagine: Bored (Requested by celebs-imagines)
You and Fred were both bored out of your minds. Your friends were off either at the library studying, in Hogsmeade with your fellow classmates, or wandering around the castle because let’s be honest, no one wants to be stuck in the tower all weekend.
So basically, the only ones even in the tower were you and Fred.
Right now, you both were lying down on his bed, staring up at the canopy-like wood surrounding the top of the bed.
You let out a soft sigh and twiddled your thumbs together.
“I’m bored.” you said, looking over to Fred.
He exhaled slowly. “Yeah, same here.”
This is when you took the time to really look at Fred. You noticed how his ginger hair was turning a slightly deep orange due to the sun streaming through the window. His cheekbones were soft on his face and looked so perfectly kissable. However, his jawline was really chiseled. It was firm and sharp and led to perfectly form his sturdy chin. You noticed the way his eyes would become happy and bright whenever he smiled, and his smile was something rare. No one had such a happy smile like Fred did. He was always so loving, so caring. Sometimes you wondered how you ever managed to score a guy like him.
Fred turned to look at you, a smirk on his face.
You blushed a little bit but shrugged as he turned your head to face the wood again. “Not my fault you’re hot.”
He chuckled and sat up so that he was balancing himself on his forearms.
“You think I’m hot?”
You shrugged again but slightly bit your lip. “Maybe.”
He smiled at you before his thoughts trailed off. After a few seconds he looked down at you again.
“Wanna do it?”
You turned to him and grinned, biting your lip. “I thought you’d never ask.”
With that, he dove down to press his lips against yours, his tongue automatically prying your lips open so he could slip inside your mouth. Your hand went up to cup his cheek and bring his face closer to yours. Your tongues began massaging each other and Fred’s hand moved to slowly slide down your waist.
The kiss got heated very quickly, but it was passionate and fun all the same. He smiled into the kiss and started fiddling with the hem of your shirt.
“Can I take this off of you now?” he mumbled quietly against your lips.
You laughed and sat up, quickly taking off your shirt and throwing it to the side. You turned to Fred and he pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it over his shoulder.
You both smiled at each other and went back to passionately kissing each other while Fred laid down on his bed, pulling you on top of him. This continued on for some while, until his fingers in one hand became tangled in your soft hair while the other hand went down to gently squeeze your bum.
You smirked and slightly ground onto his crotch with your hands suddenly becoming very interested in pulling down his sweats. Fred moaned into your mouth a little as you ground into him.
You broke the kiss and sat up, slowly pulling down his sweatpants with his boxers while biting your lip and winking at him. Fred let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding but smiled at you nonetheless. He lifted his body up slightly so you could pull them off all the way.
Once his hard erection was revealed after his sweats and boxers were stripped of him, you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor. Then you moved slightly so you could take off your pants and kick them to the side.
You crawled back up to Fred and started kissing him again, this time making it a bit rough. Your lips attacked each other with your tongues suddenly fighting back and forth in your mouth.
Your hand moved down to Fred’s erection, to which you started pumping at a fairly fast pace. Fred let out a groan as he moved his hand down to the place he wanted to touch you most, feeling your wet heat.
He started toying with your clit in his fingertips, emitting a soft moan from your lips. He quickly pressed his thumb down on it, rubbing fast circles on it while slowly sticking a finger inside of you.
Fred moved his finger in and out of you. Slowly, but hard at the same time. He quickly inserted another finger, this time moving a little bit faster, to which you let out a soft moan in his mouth.
Both of your hands moved faster and faster. The orgasm was building, building slowly. It was almost there. You were just about to cum when Fred took his fingers out of you and gently pushed your hand off of his penis.
His breathing was slightly ragged as he cheekily smiled at you and winked.
“Let’s take this under the sheets, yeah?” he whispered seductively.
You giggled as he moved under the blankets, you moving after he was settled in.
You kissed him again, but this time it was soft pecks. Three in total.
He pulled away and looked up at you, smiling before he leaned up into your ear and whispered seductively,
“Ride me, baby.”
You blushed but kissed him again as you positioned himself over your entrance. You teased him a bit, rubbing the head along your inner folds and putting pressure on your clit.
He let out an erratic breath. “(Y/N) don’t tease me, now.”
You slowly slid down on him, his hard and long member filling you up perfectly as you went down all the way, slightly loud moans escaping your lips.
Fred’s fingers dug into your hips as you bounced on top of him, your breasts rapidly bouncing up and down in front of him.
One of his hands reached to grasp a breast and started squeezing and massaging it. Once you put your hands on his smooth stomach to balance yourself, he took his other hand and started working on your other breast.
You threw your head back and let out a moan as you bounced up and down on his large penis with his hands practically kneading your breasts.
His hands were really strong, they held onto your breasts tightly and moved them in circles in his hands. You leaned down to kiss him, still moving up and down over him.
Your lips passionately and rhythmically moved in sync with each other. You tilted your head so you could deepen the kiss, playing with his tongue for only a little bit.
As if on cue, you changed the direction of your hips and started swiveling them around his hard member. A groan came from his lips and his hands moved down to squeeze your ass as you continued to swivel down onto him harder.
“Mmph, oh (Y/N)…” he moaned out.
He suddenly sat up and spread his legs wider so you could have more access to him. With his hands still on your ass, he started moving his hips up and down along with yours. That way you wouldn’t feel like you were the one doing all the work.
His lips immediately attached to your neck, moving to kiss upwards slowly before finding your soft spot, which was right under your jawline. He sucked on that particular spot, making you whimper a bit and bite down softly on your bottom lip.
“Oh God, Fred.” you moaned out as he continued sucking and nipping on your soft spot.
Fred nipped at the spot on your neck one more time, leaving a small love bite before licking it and moving up to capture your lips with his.
You bounced down harder on him as he bit your bottom lip and tugged on it slightly. He let out a somewhat loud moan as you sucked on his tongue a little bit and bit his lip.
“Oh God, I love it when you do that.” he said when you pulled away briefly.
You giggled and sucked on his tongue again, this time making him moan louder.
You changed direction again on his penis, swiveling again before feeling the high of your orgasm about to come.
“Fred…” you moaned out.
“You too?” he asked breathlessly.
You nodded as he squeezed your ass even tighter, for sure leaving a few light bruises there.
“Augh! Oh God (Y/N), I’m gonna come.” he moaned out loudly.
“Mmph, ungh, me too.” you managed to whimper out.
He came a few seconds later, his climax taking its toll on him. You came shortly after he did, collapsing on top of him as he fell backwards on his bed.
You lay there on his chest, trying to catch your breath as he attempted to to the same. You could feel his slight pectoral muscles rising and falling as his erratic breathing slowed down. His arms came to wrap around your waist, rubbing soft circles on your back.
After a few minutes, you finally pulled out of him and went back to laying your head on his chest, your fingers tracing patterns on his soft skin.
Fred looked down at you and chuckled, making you look up and face him.
“What?” you smiled at him.
“Nothing. That was just a lot of fun.” he bit his lip and winked at you.
You bit the inside of your bottom lip as you leaned down to kiss him softly but deeply on his lips.
However, he pulled away fairly quickly after getting your hair tangled in his hand again.
He smiled cheekily at you. “Wanna go for round two?”
You giggled and nodded yes as he flipped you over so that now he was on top, kissing you deeply on the mouth once more.
these gray clouds can’t hide my sunny disposition (jungkook x reader)
Jungkook + waiting in line
Word Count: 3,959 A/N: i started this fic back in march lmao rip but thanks to katie @jespere-hope for all the suggestions and cheerleading me into finishing this
The line to the Apple Store spanned nearly four blocks, from the bakery outside your apartment all the way down to the construction zone. You hurried along the pavement, hoping to catch a spot at the tail end. The stares of people waiting in the line made it evident that boredom was already seeping in to the masses of Apple fanatics. You flitted quickly through throngs of people loitering casually against concrete buildings, and not even the enticing fumes of freshly baked bread from the local bakery could stop you from your mission.
Prompt: Riley Matthews is a struggling writer who works as a bartender to pay off her student loans. Lucas Friar is a rich kid from Texas who’s lost his way. One night fate brings them together causing their two different worlds to collide. A/N: It’s cheesy but I love writing AU’s. Hope it’s okay! xo (also note there’s A LOT of dialogue. Sorry in advance.)
Part 1 - “Tell me your story.”
I wake up to the sound of jeopardy blasting from the t.v.
out in the living room. It was already noon but I work the night shifts so for
me it might as well have been 6 in the morning. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes
I shuffle into the common area and watch as my roommate, Isadora, fills out paperwork
while absentmindedly answering the questions from the outdated show. ‘According to C.S. Lewis, it was bordered on
the east by the Eastern Ocean and on the north by the River Shribble.’ I
glance over at her and without hesitation she answers, ‘What is Narnia.’
“Izzy, does that have to be so loud?” I ask making my way
over to the kitchen.
“Sorry. It helps me concentrate.” She turns down the volume
and returns to her papers.
“A lot of homework?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” She pulls out a huge stack of
papers and slams them down on our coffee table.
“Well good luck with that.” I grab some water and head back
to my room.
“You’re working tonight, right?” I hear her call from the
other room. “Don’t wait up, I’ll be with Farkle.”
I nod my head even though she can’t see me and plop back
down on my bed. My day doesn’t start until its dark outside.
It’s a Wednesday night so the bar is pretty slow. We have our
regulars who are always here and a couple of girls who say they’re having a
bachelorette party. Although the bride to be doesn’t seem to be having that
Since it’s a slow night and it doesn’t appear to be picking
up I send the other two bartenders home and tell them I’ll lock up the place
when I leave. I’ve gotten pretty chummy with the owner.
I started working here when I was a freshmen in college. I wasn’t
21 yet so I had to get paid under the table but she said I was a ray of
sunshine so she took a chance on me. I’m 23 now and have been working here ever
“Dyl,” you whisper, tracing your fingers down his bare back. He shifts in his sleep, letting out a hum as he starts to wake up. You smile, raising your eyebrows as he groans and pulls the covers over his head. “Baby, we have to get up,” you whisper, resting your hand on his side. He grumbles, ‘Fimorminutz” and you shake your head, “You’ll try to drag this out for five more hours, come on.” He rolls over and you yelp as he pulls you under the covers, giggling. Dylan hums again and pulls you against his chest, hugging you like a teddy bear. You quietly lie in his arms for a moment, enjoying the warmth. “Come on,” you whisper, lightly tapping his upper chest.
There’s a soft, warm glow coming from the sun under the sheets and you smile as your eyes adjust to Dylan’s face. His strong, chiseled features are so comforting and familiar in the morning light. His eyes are closed and he’s breathing softly, slowly drifting off to sleep again. You carefully push the covers off of you and the direct sunlight hits him, creating a masterpiece. The light bounces off his angular features, brightening the already alluring features. Your eyes drift up to the tangled mass of hair on top of his head. The gold locks are twisted and matted in different places and it’s a complete mess- and he looks completely adorable.
Dylan squints his eyes at the sudden light change, rubbing them, “Y/n,” he whines softly. You giggle and shake your head. “How did your mother ever get you out of bed in the morning?” “I’ll never tell,” he mumbles, keeping his eyes closed. You reach up to gently stroke the unruly mane, grinning. He’s going to need help getting this all untangled. You bite your lip as you watch him, Fine. He won’t tell me, I’ll have to come up with my own ways. You lean in and give him a soft kiss, pulling away. He hums, “Well, she didn’t so that.” You laugh softly, “That’s good to hear.” You lean in to kiss him again and his lips pucker out as he kisses you, pouting when you pull away. “Dyl?” you whisper over his lips. “Mmm?” he mumbles, his eyes slowly starting to open. “Have I ever given you head in the shower?” you ask softly. His eyebrows go up and his eyes open. “Morning, baby,” he mumbles in a slightly scratchy voice. “We should get in that shower.” You nod, grinning as he gets up and eagerly tugs you into the bathroom.
Humming to yourself as Matthew strikes up the station wagon, he pulls out from under the awning of the hotel and begins to pull out into the main road.
“Where to?” he asks.
Shrugging as you yawn, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, Matthew chuckles to himself as he throws his turn signal.
“Coffee,” he says.
And 10 minutes later, you had a glorious cup of coffee in your hand, sucking it down like it was your life-force.
The two of you had decided to check out the next day. You had mentioned that you had never seen Mt. Rushmore, so Matthew wanted to make it to Nebraska before stopping for a couple of nights.
“I don’t know what there is to do in Nebraska, but I’m sure we can find something,” he smiles.
“I know what I can do…” you trail off.
“You’re so cute when you’re tired,” he muses.
“Can it, ass-face,” you groan.
After staying up and recounting your high school days, comparing them to Matthew’s and listening to each other’s stories, the two of you had finally passed out on the couch around 5 am, with a check-out time of 11 am.
Needless to say, you were exhausted.
“You can lean your seat back and sleep, if you’d like,” Matthew suggests, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he merges onto the highway.
“So you can draw penis faces on me like you do Shemar? No thanks,” you retort.
“I would never draw penises on your beautiful face!” Matthew feigns shocked hurt, “I would draw beautiful rose vaginas.”
“You are insane!” you squeal, giggling as you shove his arm, his smile ricocheting across his face as you take another long pull from your coffee cup.
Sitting in silence as you stare out the window, you feel your eyelids drooping as your mouth begins to speak without its filter.
“I used to love thrift shopping,” you breathe.
“You don’t anymore?” Matthew asks.
“I mean, I do…I just stopped because I always found these cool clothes I wanted to wear, and no one ever approved of them.”
“Who cares if they approve?” Matthew asks, furrowing his brow as he flickers his gaze over to you, seeing your head lob off of the glass and back down onto the seat cushion.
“Where’s the seat-go-back thing?” you ask.
“On your right, down at the bottom of the side of the seat,” Matthew smiles.
Fidgeting with the lever, you pull it up as your chair shoots back, squealing as Matthew begins to lowly chuckle at you.
Leaning back as a smile crosses your face, you close your eyes as you concentrate on the humming of the highway underneath the tires of Matthew’s car.
“Why do you care if people approve?” he asks again.
“Because if I was gonna use my parents’ money, they wanted to like the clothes,” you say, flopping your head towards his voice, but not opening your eyes.
“Is that why you got a job so young?” he asks.
You vaguely remember telling Matthew about your babysitting gigs as a 15 year old and then getting a bagging job at a grocery store right after you turned 16.
“Mmmmhm,” you hum, your eyes too heavy to open and look at his face.
His perfectly chiseled face.
“So when did you stop shopping at thrift stores?” Matthew asks.
“When I was 16,” you mumbled.
“But I thought the reason you got the job was to continue thrift shopping,” he states, furrowing his brow as he looks down at your exhausted face, your lips down-turned as you recount the memory.
Shifting as you groan, you sloppily place your coffee cup in the cup holder as you take a deep breath through your nose.
“I heard my mom talking to my dad one night. About how Y/L/N girls’ need to act a certain way because of our reputation in the community, and how my outfits were bringing down the family name,” you mumble as you feel yourself begin to slip into a nice slumber.
“I’m so sorry,” Matthew mumbles, placing his hand over yours and giving it a light squeeze.
“I miss it,” you sigh, allowing yourself to slip into a deep sleep as the concrete rolling by the tires ticks along in a rhythmic beat, lulling you to sleep before you can catch the tear slowly slipping out of your eye and down your cheek.
But Matthew caught it.
Moving his hand from yours to your cheek, he wipes it away, flickering his eyes back up to the road as he swallows back his own tears.
“Well, I know what we’re doing in Nebraska…” he whispers, wiping your tear off on his pants as he moves his hand back over to yours, wrapping his long fingers around your tiny hand as he holds it tight, your chest rising and falling steadily as your body finally gives into its weakness.
I AM OFFENDED NONE OF YOU HAVE READ MY MIND AND DONE A ZIMBITS WRECK-IT RALPH AU
idk who Ralph is because I have the most emotions about Bitty and Jack in this instance so all I can say for sure is that Vanellope is probably Lardo because let’s be real they’re one and the same
NOW ONTO THE JUICY STUFF so in this au the role of Fix-it Felix Junior will be played by none other than Eric Richard Bittle (and now that I think about it Coach even calls Bitty ‘junior’ like this au is perfect am I the only one who saw this what the heck get on it people)
Calhoun, our Tall Broody Tragic Backstory Character is obvi Jack
“do you think this will work?” you ask kendall as the two of you alongside justine, hailey, and gigi walk into the nice guy for big sean’s ama’s after party.
“if this outfit doesn’t get his attention,” the tall model replies, “then you can kiss that boy goodbye.” you bite your lip nervously before stopping so that you won’t mess up your lipstick.
“don’t worry, y/n,” hailey assures you while taking your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “he’s going to be drooling all over you for sure.”
“valentino looks good on you, so you shouldn’t have a problem,” gigi chimes in. you smile at your group of friends that you have grown to love over the past two years since you met them, your nerves settling slightly. as soon as you step through the doors, though, your heartbeat is blending with the beat of the underline bass traveling through your body. you can’t even hear yourself think because it’s too loud.
justine suddenly drags you to the middle of your clique, fixing your hair and touching up your makeup quickly before the song fades into another one. “mercy” is playing as you and the girls basically line up like they’re ready for the catwalk. all attention is on the five of you and you are close to shying away and running out the back doors when the man of the hour suddenly spots you.
there he is—-your recent ex-boyfriend, the famous justin bieber, standing there at the bottom of the steps. no shirt. hair freshly cut. tattoos on display. those raybans that you love so much frame his chiseled face perfectly. you can feel your heart break your rib cage as soon as you see him, but you remain cool and collected as the girls have their model game faces on. you feel like a shrimp compared to them, but you stand tall like you’re the baddest bitch in the building.
justin slowly takes off his sunglasses, mumbling “what?” to one of his friends in the process. you bite your lip and begin to descend down the stairs, your confidence growing with every step. by the time you make it to the bottom of the steps with your friends in tow, you’re smirking like you just won six ama’s, unlike justin, who is dumbfounded at you and your shiny new outfit. you never go out to clubs because you always claim that it’s not your scene
“did you miss me?” you suddenly hear yourself say over the music. justin blinks in surprise. you can already smell the weed and alcohol on his breath as he breathes right in front of your face, but you don’t flinch. you’re going to be the strong one this time.
“i thought this wasn’t your thing,” justin yells back as he gestures to the sweaty, dancing bodies all around you two. your group has already dispersed so that they can give you and justin time to talk. you shrug.
“needed a change of scenery. besides, i’m a single woman now! i should go out and celebrate my freedom!” no matter how convincing you are to everyone else, it’s tearing you apart to be away from justin. that’s why you decided to go through with this plan to get justin’s attention: you wanted to get back together with him as soon as possible, and you are willing to put yourself out there to get him back.
you expect some kind of lecture from justin about how this isn’t your scene and that you shouldn’t be out this late or something like that. instead, you get that wicked smirk and a certain glint in his honey brown eyes that make your knees weak.
“well, if that’s what you want, then who am i to stop you? enjoy your single life. it’s fun, honestly!” you feel your heart break slightly at his words, but you just smirk and grab the bottle of Grey Goose from his hand, taking a hard swig from the large glass bottle. The clear liquid burns your throat, but you take your three hard gulps and hand it back to him.
“that is all i need from you for the rest of the night,” you say before turning around to saunter off to the bathroom and lock yourself in a stall and cry it out. but a familiar hand grabs yours hand pulls you back, spinning you around and pressing your chest a sweaty, bare one. you look up at justin, who has his sunglasses back on and smirking.
“it looks you and i both need a partner to dance with.”
“what happened to taking a time out on us?” you question, referencing the fight you two had a month ago when you finally decided to call it quits after a year and a half. justin bites his lip before meaning in and pressing his lips gently to yours. your mind goes blank as your lips move against his in perfect sloppiness. when you two pull away, justin’s arm hugs you securely to his muscular body, making you dizzy.
“i call time in, baby girl. is that okay with you?”
you can feel your body warm up with excitement and relief, and your confidence is back in full force. so you smirk and trace your index finger over his cross tattoo.
Please review; I really want to know what you guys think of this story and to see if it worth continuing.
And super thanks to those people who follow and favorite this fanfic, and super thanks to those who reviewed and commented on this story.
Brooke was slowly waking up, but she felt her whole body surrounded by a warmth that instead of making her want to wake, it actually lulled her more to sleep. It was a welcoming warmth that draped over her that made her snuggle closer to it. It even smelled good, whatever she was sleeping on smelled clean fresh soap, along with an earthy smell. But the more she noticed this smell, the more she wanted to wake up to find where it was coming from.
Her eyes fluttered opened and the first thing that she registered was that she was not in her room and not in her own clothes. Her mind started to panic as she looked around, and surveyed her surroundings, but then she eased when she recognized where she was. it was Isaac’s room. Memory of everything that occurred yesterday came pouring in.
She remembered him tell her of his father’s beatings towards him, Isaac not wanting to report his father’s abuse, her staying the night to avoid his father spotting her in his home, and also her sleeping beside her best friend.
Part of her wanted everything that occurred yesterday to be a dream or a hallucination, caused by her not seeing her best friend or another unknown reason. She wanted to believe that everything yesterday was just a figment of her imagination going wild with the countless books that she has read. But as she was lying in Isaac’s bed there was no denying anything that happened yesterday.
She felt something move across her abdomen and was startled, but when she looked down it was Isaac’s hand draped across her waist bringing her closer to his body. She remembered that just the other day she was in this very position with him. And just like last time, she felt her stomach clutch and tighten. She was feeling something for him, there was no denying that her friendship with Isaac was becoming something more.
She turned to faced him, and just like last time she took stared at his face. She realized that her best friend was fairly attractive. His skin was so white and smooth, free of blemishes, except for that bruise that was on his cheek. His hair was messy, but it suited him. And his face itself was so chiseled and defined, that it looked like a master sculptor had designed it.
If someone were to come a month before and tell her that she would end up falling for her best friend Isaac, she would most likely laugh in their face and tell them that there was no way that she would ever feel anything for Isaac. But now, she would seriously think about it. She knew that her feelings for him were changing, that the lines were slowly blending; she didn’t know what feeling could be labeled as friends, or something more.
She knew that being friends with someone meant that you could do anything together. But does that same rule apply to her laying in Isaac’s bed as she snuggled up to him and never wanting to leave? Are best friends allowed to do that? And she knew that the most likely answer would be no. This was something so intimate that it would be labeled as more than friends. But even if part of her told her that she shouldn’t be doing this, that she should push aside those feelings for him, another part of her was telling her that there was nothing wrong with it, and she was currently listing to that part of her.
And the only thing that could explain her feelings for Isaac was that everything came so naturally to them. Nothing was filled with awkwardness, they were just so synced with each other that they knew how the other would feel, so maybe it was only natural for them to end up like this.
But would she mind her feelings for Isaac? Right now she didn’t seem to mind.
She unconsciously reached to touch his face. She saw that when he was asleep, he looked so innocent, so unhurt by the world around him. When he was asleep one wouldn’t think that he was a boy that came from a broken home, who lost two important family members, instead he looked so peaceful, free of worries and pain. Her fingers gently brushed over his bruise, she traced circles almost as if she could take it from his skin, but sadly she couldn’t. Her hand cupped his face and held it there.
She just stared at him, watching him take in small breaths through his mouth and began rubbing his cheek with her thumb.
“Brooke”, he let out with a soft sigh as he leaned into her touch and tightened his grip on her waist pulling her even closer to him.
Her eyes widen with shock that he might be awake and caught her doing this to him. She felt her heart skip a beat thinking that he might push her away because of what she did, but she relaxed when she noticed that Isaac was still asleep.
Isaac whispered her name in his sleep. Her cheeks blushed to a bright scarlet red as she replayed it over in her head. He said her name. And not in fear like in the nightmares she witnessed yesterday, but in comfort. Could he feel something for her too?
Isaac began stirring, and his eyes were starting to flutter as if to open. And she didn’t want to have him see that she was staring at him, so she instantly shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep.
Isaac was opening his eyes, and the first thing that he was a mop of auburn color on his pillow and partly on him. It took him a few seconds for his eyes to focus and instantly blushed when he saw that it was none other than Brooke.
She stayed the night. He looked down at her and was captivated by her. She stayed the night with him, and didn’t leave him. She looked so comfy and safe and it was with him. And seeing her here was a sight that he could get used to. He knew that his feelings for her might never be requited by her. But at least now he could say that at least he held her close, and that was something that no one would ever take away from him.
His fingers played with the loose strands that came out of her bun and he tucked them behind her ear, and then trailed his hand to her chin, and out of instinct leaned in. He could barely stop his actions to kiss her, but ended up face to face with her. He was so close to her that he could feel his lips faintly brush against hers. If he or Brooke moved the slightest their lips would be touching. He didn’t know what came over him, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to feel his lips against her, but he couldn’t do that to Brooke. He couldn’t steal a kiss from her, because in a way that would be wrong, it would be a forced kiss, and if he would ever kiss her, he wanted her to be willing to kiss him.
He knew that he should pull back, but he couldn’t find the will to do so. His nose was brushing against hers, and if she stirred he would kiss him accidently, but he had to pull away. And with much strength he did. But the need to kiss her was still there, so he did the only thing he could. He placed a tender kiss to her forehead. He let his lips linger there for a second, as if this kiss could tell Brooke that he care for her deeply, more than just friends, and maybe give him the chance to prove that to her.
Isaac finally crawled out of bed and began to get up to get ready for the day, and was hit with the cold morning air making him want to get back in bed and pull her close to him again. But he knew that he couldn’t do that. He figured it would be best to dress in the bathroom incase Brooke would wake up and see him changing. But the small tingle of his lips was still there.
When Brooke finally heard the door shut, she finally let out a breath that she didn’t even know that she was holding. She instantly shot up from Isaac’s bed and placed her hand over heart. She could feel it pounding against her chest that she was worried that it would burst from her chest with the force of her hammering heart. Isaac was going to kiss her; there was no doubt about it. She could replay the feel of Isaac’s lips almost brushing against hers, almost coaxing her to close that small space and kiss him. She was not even breathing at that moment, and thankfully Isaac didn’t notice. And just when she felt that she could relax, she felt his lips on her forehead. There was no denying that there was more to that kiss than just friends. She has had previous relationships but very few kisses were that soft and tender that made her heartbeat sore.
But there were a few questions on her mind, why didn’t he kiss her? He was right there, yet he pulled away. Did he not like her? And if he did would she mind?
And she didn’t have an answer.
Isaac walked into his room and was shocked to see Brooke awake and staring straight at him. Brooke stared straight at him and there was no denying that she saw the way his eyes trailed from her eyes to her lips and back to emerald eyes again, he did want to kiss her or was regretting even thinking about kiss her. She needed to run, it was her instinct to do so when she was placed in a situation that she couldn’t handle
“Where are you going?” she said noticing that he was in workout clothes.
“Lacrosse practice, I’m in the team remember?” he said trying to sound normal and not hide the blush that was forming on his cheeks.
“Of course I remember, but on the weekend?” she said with a smile.
“Well the season starts soon, and coach wants to get as much practice before that” he said as he put away his dirty clothes in the hamper, “You wanna come to practice?” he asked shyly.
She smile and got up and began to do little stretches, sicne it was her morning routine. She knew that no matter what just happened they were back to being Isaac and Brooke, the two best friends. It was amazing how comfortable things could be with them, “no I don’t think I can, I mean, I have to check up with my parents”, she said and then walked up to Isaac and looked up at his face. “Just try not to get to hurt, for me at least”, she said noticing how the bruise on his face was now a sickly green color, but at least it was healing.
“Lacrosse is a pretty rough sport”, he said with a smile but felt his heart flutter at her closeness and kindness directed at him.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t try,” she whispered to him and never taking her eyes off of him.
They were so close to each other, but she wanted that space to close, she remembered how safe and warm it felt when she was in his arms, it just felt so right.
Isaac’s voice was trapped in his throat that he felt that if he were to say anything the only thing that would come out was a small breath. She was doing it again, she was messing with his emotions and he wondered if she was aware of it. Isaac wanted to hold her and show her that he could make her happy, but right now was not the time. Brooke’s emerald eyes were staring into his intensely waiting for him to reply.
Finding his voice he finally responded, “Ok, I’ll try” he said with a warm smile, to show her that he would try to stay safe for her. “You should get going though, I mean your parents could be worried because you stayed the night”, he said putting space between them and he didn’t notice how much Brooke was missing his warmth.
“Fine, I guess your right”, she said as she went to go get her clothes, “but do you mind if I take your clothes since mine are somewhat ruined?”
“I don’t mind, here let me see if I could find something you can carry them in”, he said as he looked around his room to find a small pack for her, “sorry I couldn’t offer you breakfast it’s just that the coach wants us there early to finish sooner, hope you don’t mind?” he said as he handed her a backpack.
“No, I don’t mind” she said as she neatly folded her clothes and placed them inside. “But Isaac, I promise I won’t tell anyone, but if you ever need anything, know that me and my family are here for, so don’t hesitate to ask” she said as she was walking to the door.
He smiled at her and felt his insides warm at her words, “Thanks, here let me go check to make sure the coast is clear”, he said as he exited his room and began to make sure that his father wasn’t there. He looked around the house and noticed that his father was passed out in his room and most likely not going to wake up anytime soon and with that he headed back to his room. “Come on, the coast is clear.”
She smiled at him and walked out of the house with Isaac grabbing his bike and they began walking together. The school and her home were actually close, but they would have to eventually go different ways. “When’s your first game?”
“I think this or next week I haven’t checked the schedule, really hope you’ll be there to cheer me on”, he said with a laugh.
“Of course I’ll be there I mean, who else is going to be there to cheer you on”, she said a bright smile, “Do you think you’ll be playing first line?”
“Nah, I mean I’m not Scott or Jackson, I might not even play.”
“Well even if your benched, I’ll be there to cheer you on” she said confidently.
“Thanks, well this is where we part ways, I’ll see you tomorrow Brooke or I might text you later”, he said as he readjusted his duffle bag to get on his bike.
“Yea, ok bye Isaac”, she said waving to him, but she had a need to do something, and she wasn’t going to let him get away without having her need met, “Hey Isaac”
Isaac was about to hop on his bike and pedal off, but stopped and turned to face her, he nodded for her to continue.
Brooke walked up to him and stood right in front of him. Brooke stared up at him and knew that she at least wanted to kiss him, and wanted to know what it would feel like. She just had to know if she would feel anything, or it was all in her head. She got up on her tip toes and wanted to place a kiss on his lips but ended up kissing the corner of his mouth, “good luck in lacrosse”, she said as she broke the kiss. She was still so close to him and her heart was fluttering, she felt something in that kiss there was no denying it, she felt something for him, and she really hoped that he wouldn’t push her away.
Isaac was dumbstruck, Brooke kissed him. Sure it wasn’t in his lips but it was better than nothing, he could feel his skin there tingle and wanted her to kiss him again, but he knew that she probably wouldn’t so he would do it himself.
Brooke felt Isaac lean down and felt his soft lips on the corner on her mouth, mimicking her kiss she felt the corner of his mouth on her lips and wanted to know if his lips were just as soft as she imagined. But her heart beat raced and the blood underneath his lips felt like it was boiling with his kiss, “thanks”, he said as he pulled away but his lips brushed against hers, making her want to kiss him fully.
His face was right in front of hers and neither pulled away. He felt his breath caress her lips and they were just as close as this morning, but this time they both wanted to press against each other’s lips. But neither could take the leap to do so, neither could find the strength to push their relationship past friendship into something more. And just like that Brooke pulled away, “see you later Isaac”, she said masking her blush with her hand and began to walk to her home.
She was so confused now because there was no denying it now. She knew she felt something for him and by the looks of it so did he. But would either of them be able to be more than just friends.
It was finally after practice and Isaac had to get to the cemetery to take care of a few graves his father left him in charge of. But his mind was so engulfed by one thing, or rather one person, Brooke. All throughout practice he could only think of her and their almost kiss. She kissed him and he let her do the same to her. He kept smiling throughout the practice and just thought about the next time he would see Brooke. He thought that maybe Brooke would let him kiss her and maybe it would be the start of their relationship.
Maybe things were finally looking up for him. Maybe the great cosmic forces, finally acknowledged that his life was just so messed up that they were finally giving him the chance to be happy with the only person who could make him happy. Because honestly that’s what he thought of her, she was something that the gods sent to him to at least make his life bearable and he hoped that she would be his. And now maybe she could.
When he finally made it to the cemetery he began to get to work. He was still a bit hesitant on what would happen the next time he would see Brooke, because he still felt that maybe he would push her away, but he would worry about that when the time comes. He was almost done with his work when he heard a twig snap. He was a bit startled at first but decided that it was most likely and small animal, but he heard the snap again but much louder. He turned and heard that it was actually footsteps walking up to him; he instantly knew it wasn’t his father since he wouldn’t show up here this late. He looked around but saw nothing but that dark black forest, but he would hear their footsteps. He backed up into a tree when he heard something to the right.
There hidden by the shadows of the night was a figure standing there, “who are you?” he said with a scared voice. The figure stepped closer and reviled a man not that much older than him, and instantly knew that he had seen his face somewhere in the news but right now he couldn’t process who he was. “What do you want?” he said wishing he could step back even more, but he couldn’t.
“Nothing, just here to talk, names Derek” he said with his hands out trying to comfort Isaac to show him that he isn’t a threat.
“You shouldn’t be here, visiting hours are over”, he said trying to sound that he wasn’t afraid but he knew that Derek wouldn’t be afraid of him, “and I don’t want to talk”.
“That’s a pretty bad bruise you got there” he said pointing to his cheek, “what if I told you that there was a way that you would never get hurt again, and finally stand up for yourself”
He was scared of him, there wasn’t something normal about Derek and knew that he shouldn’t trust him, but he couldn’t help but listen.
“I don’t know what you mean, I get hurt because of lacrosse”, he said strongly.
“Isaac, you and I both know that those bruises you have don’t come from school. Those bruises come from someone close to you, and I can help you. I can give you the strength to finally stand up against your father, or at least the power to not feel like shit after he beats you up, all you have to do is agree to what I’m going to give you”, he said walking closer and closer to him.
Isaac felt his blood turn cold, Derek knew of his father’s beating. Who is this man, or what it is just that obvious? He was tempted to accept his offer, it was too good not to pass up, but Derek still made him feel uneasy, “I still don’t know what you mean, but you should really leave”.
“Fine how about this, I could give you a family, a pack, you’ll finally be treated like somebody. I’m not asking you to leave your dad, I’m asking you to just agree. You could finally belong somewhere, isn’t that what you want?” he said sounding sincere.
It was what he wanted; it’s something that he wanted since he lost his brother. But the moment he was finally going to ask him about this family, he thought of Brooke. Brooke, the one person who considered him somebody since they were kids. He didn’t need someone like Derek, when he had Brooke and her family who welcomed him with open arms. And he shot Derek a look that told him that he wasn’t interested and began to walk away.
“What if by joining me, you could finally be the one thing that you want to be”, Derek said as Isaac continued walking away, “Her knight in shining armor”, and hearing those words finally made him stop and turn to listen to what Derek had to say, “seems like I have your attention. Join me; accept my gift and you could finally be just that. I would give you the strength and ability to protect her and yourself from everything and anything. Isn’t that what you want? And who knows with my help you could finally win her heart, and finally be happy for once. But you want nothing to do with me, so I better leave and find someone who will be grateful to accept my gift”, he said knowing that he finally had Isaac hooked he just needed to give him time.
Isaac could finally protect her and take care of her, something that he would always want to do for her. He could finally stand up to all the people that would make his life a torment, or the people that would hurt Brooke’s feeling. He could finally do that for her and more. And all he had to agree to Derek’s offered, and was it worth it? And the more he thought about it, what did he have to lose?
Derek took only a few steps into the woods when he heard Isaac call after him, “wait join you in exactly what?” he said calling after him.
Derek had a smirk on his face as his eyes flashed red and turned around to face Isaac, “My pack, but trust me it’ll be worth your wild” he said as he approached him yet again, but he had Isaac hooked, line and sinker.
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FOR THOSE WANTING TO READ THE OTHER BROOKE AND ISAAC CHAPTERS HERE IS THE LINK:
The entire place seemed empty,
incomplete. It was too quiet and there was no Bucky in here. Fuck. You couldn’t stop thinking about
him. Despite him being three steps away, he seemed miles from you. You shouldn’t be
feeling this way. Whenever you caught yourself thinking about Bucky, you would
punch yourself in the face. Not literally, but mentally. You had never, ever
felt this way about a guy. And feeling the butterflies in your stomach was a
not a pleasant experience. Why did movies glorify this feeling so much? It’s
basically the same feeling as wanting to hurl, which isn’t all too glamorous
A few days later, Bucky knocked on your door. It was a
Thursday night, and you had just come back from training.
“Coming! One sec,” you say, chucking your suit into the
closet. You put on a night gown and carefully opened the door. “Oh, hey Bucky.”
He still looked fucking gorgeous. Only better than last time, because today he was wearing a white
t-shirt that clung onto every muscle. Again, you had stared a second too long.
“You just can’t take your eyes off of me, can you (y/n)?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t show up wearing a transparent shirt
next time, Barnes.” You gesture him to come in. He sits on the couch, looking
around. His first impression: your apartment is tidy.
You brought a tray of coffee and cookies and set it on the
coffee table. Taking a seat next across from him, you look at his chiseled face. What was he
“So, what can I do for you?” you ask curiously.
Bucky rubs his hands nervously, looking unsure of how to say
whatever he needed to say. “Uh, (y/n)…I really, really…You’ve been…” he
stuttered. Shit. No, no, no. He was going to ask you on a date, or worse. Tell
you his feelings.
You scratch your forehead before interrupting his incoherent
mumbling. “Look, Bucky. I…I think I know where you’re going with this. And I feel
the same way, but we c–I can’t.” You saw his face fall, and your heart broke. He couldn’t
look at you in the eyes. God, you hated this. You wanted to hug him and kiss
him and run your hand all over his body and just feel him. But you couldn’t. It
was just a part of the job description. Broken hearts included.
“No, I understand. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was
thinking,” Bucky whispers before getting up to leave.
You listen to him walk
out and slowly close the door. You didn’t want him to see the tears threatening
to stream down your face. But one tear slipped, and then a million more followed. You couldn’t
stop crying, and you didn’t even understand why. In your entire life, you had
never cried over a guy. Not even in high school when you found out that your
boyfriend had been cheating on you. So why were you crying now?
“Shit,” you whisper, wiping your tears. “Fucking shit.”
No part of you had wanted to
reject Bucky. Yes, you had met him a only few days ago. But he made you feel…so
good. Just being around him, being in his presence was exciting and fun. His
cocky jokes, and stupid pickup lines, his everything made your skin tingle.
Bucky was everything you wanted. But just when you found your soulmate, you had
to lose him.
Weeks went by, and Bucky was
nowhere to be seen. You really fucking missed him. You missed his stupid hair,
his even stupider eyes, and his stupid voice. Once, you had heard someone’s
keys jingling in the hall and ran out, thinking it was Bucky. But it was the
You missed Bucky. But even thinking
about his name made your heart ache like shit.
“We’re in position, Boss.”
“Okay, on my mark. One. Two.
Three.” The sound of gun shots and cries rang throughout the abandoned hall. “Now,
get the hostages and meet me at the jet.”
You jump off the railing and run
towards the exit. You’re almost there, when you hear the sound of a chopper
landing 500 feet away. Shit, were they
backups? “Wait, there’s an addition in the field. Not sure if they are hostile
or not.” You sneak up near the chopper and hide behind a tree.
The helicopter lands and the
doors swing open. Someone in a black suit walks out, followed by someone in a
metal suit. A man with a shield walks out and helps a girl in a red suit hop
off. Then you see him. Bucky.
What the shit? Your eyes dart
back and forth. Were they here to help or were they hostile?
“Five people, they don’t seem
too threatening. Get out of there now, be in the jet in two minutes.”
“Boss, are they–”
“Just get the fuck out of there,
you have to go!” You order. However, you are not going to leave without figuring
out what Bucky was doing here.
“…Okay, you heard the boss. Let’s move out.”
You see the team and the
hostages board the plane and lift off, but you’re really not paying attention.
Right now, your head is racing. What the hell is Bucky doing here? Who is he
with? Not able to ignore your curiosity, you follow them into the building.
They carefully walk into the building, searching for something, judging by their
“There isn’t anyone here,” the girl
“Capscile, this place is empty,” says
the metal man.
“Shit, they must’ve beat us
here,” says the guy with the shield. You assume ‘they’ means you. You need to
find the high ground, so you teleport to the metal catwalk 2 floors up.
“Sorry, you were one step too late,”
you say. The group turns to you and goes into defense mode.
“Who are you?” says the shield
guy. Wait, he sounds familiar…Steve?
“I’m the ‘they’ you just
mentioned,” you reply carefully.
You notice Bucky’s stance relax and tilt
his head. Shit. He must’ve recognized your voice. Squinting his eyes, he looks
at you. Even in the pitch dark, you can feel his steel blue eyes looking at
“Who?” You try to confuse him. Shit.
You have to get out of here now. You teleport to the entrance, but you sense
that one of them is going to throw something at you, so you teleport onto the
“What the fuck was that?”
“Where did she go?”
“I’m not the only one who saw
“We are not going to stay here any longer
either. Avengers move out.”
You can’t help but laugh at
their name. What kind of fucking team name is the Avengers? You see them run
out and go into the chopper. They lift off in no time, so you teleport back to
the ground. You can’t risk them seeing you. All you know about them is their name.
The Avengers. And Bucky is a part of it. You let out a frustrated moan before
teleporting back to the base.
“Boss, did you find out anything
about them?” Sammie asks.
“The Avengers. Find out anything
and everything you can about them,” you order. She runs off with Chris at your
command. You make your way to Elizabeth’s office. You have a lot of questions
yourself about these ‘Avengers’.
Insider her office, you sit down
in front of her desk and wait for her to show up. All you can hear is the quiet
hum of the base. You close your eyes. You might as well take a nap. It might be
a while before Elizabeth shows up.
“Good to see you (y/n). I assume
that the mission went well,” Elizabeth places a hand on your shoulder, gently
waking you up before taking a seat. “I also assume that you are here because of
“You know them? Why didn’t you
fucking tell me about them?” you ask angrily. She may be higher in position,
but she is still your younger sister who you get easily pissed at. Especially
when she acts better than you. Or hides important things from you.
“I didn’t think they would
arrive that early,” she states simply.
You purse your lips and bite your
tongue. You are going to explode at her if you don’t. “Just tell me who they
are and what they do,” you say slowly, trying to hold your temper.
“They are a group of enhanced
individuals who fight evil, much like us.”
“Oh, I’m sorry are your words too
fucking precious to use to explain this to situationme?” You ask sarcastically.
“The Avengers are made up of Steven
Rogers, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanov, Vision, Clint Barton, and
James Barnes. They work closely with SHIELD, a homeland security agency under
the American government, but work and operate separately and privately with funding
from Stark Industries.”
Shit. That’s what he meant by ‘civil
servants’. Groaning, you slump into the chair. You pull your hair and inhale so
hard that it hurts.
“You encountered a
few of them today.” Elizabeth adds. Well no shit.
“Okay, fine.” You get up to
leave. “I’m done for today, right?”
“Yes, sister. You’ve done a good
job these last two weeks.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you mutter.
As soon as you walk out, Sammie hands you a file labeled ‘The Avengers’.
“This has all of the information
about the Avengers. Each person and what they’ve been involved in. Everything I
could find,” Sammie whispers.
You smile at her, “Thanks
Back in the city, you teleport
into an alley in Time Square. It’s the best place to go. So many people, no one
could ever notice you. There’s no way you would ever teleport ten blocks from
your house. It was too risky.
Emerging from the shadows, you walk through the
brightly lit street and into an empty station. You scroll through Buzzfeed
while waiting for the 1 train. In the middle of taking a Buzzfeed quiz, someone
walks and stands next to you, a little too close to you. Your eyes dart to
the man next to you. Bucky. Shit, shit, shit, shit. SHIT. Acting like you don’t
notice him, you sit down on the bench. You keep your head down, but your eyes
are on him. He doesn’t move. But you don’t let your guard down. It’s hard not
to feel guarded though. You don’t see him for weeks and he shows up on a
mission. It’s natural to feel cautious around him.
“It’s good to see you,” Bucky
says quietly. Fuck. Now you have to
talk to him.
You lick your chap lips before
replying. “Me too, it’s always a blast to see a friendly face while out on a
mission. It’s like seeing a friend at the mall.“ He can hear him scoff at your snarky comment. Bucky turns around and sit down
next to you on the bench. You cross your legs and turn your body away from him
ever so slightly.
“Look…” he pleads. He sounds
desperate, but you aren’t too eager to hear whatever he has to say. Still, because you’re so fucking polite, you wait
for him to continue, but he sees your file. “What is that?”
You shift your weight
uncomfortably but don’t reply.
“Is that a file on me?” He asks
with a hint of annoyance. “Why do you have a file about me?”
Shit, you explode on him. “Well
how could I fucking NOT? I don’t see you for weeks and then I see you with a
group of strangers—and Steve—while on a mission, and you also just fucking
HAPPEN to be there too?”
Bucky stares at he ground for a minute. “Sorry,” he says under his
After you’ve calmed down, you
take a deep breath to steady your voice. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. I was just…frustrated.” You steal a glance at him. He looks just as
dejected as you feel.
The both of you sit silently, thinking about what to say
and how to say it. A billion different words fly into your mind, but they all
say the same thing: I missed you. But you’re not going to say it. Any of it.
Not because you felt angry or strong enough to hold it in, but because you knew
you would break down if you said it.
“I missed you.”
Your eyes dart up and you look
at Bucky with surprise. Holding your breath, you stare at him expectantly.
He looks at you and says more
surely, “I missed you.”
thank u so much to everyone who was able to buy niall’s song or gift it to other people, who streamed or voted or asked their local radio stations to play it, it’s such a pleasure to watch niall succeed