i bet you are keeping a very close eye on her!

Breaking the Rules - part 7

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Modern!AU You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Word Count:2,176

Warnings: the usual

A/N: I made this extra cheesy so it hurts more. You’re welcome ♥

Breaking the Rules - Masterpage

Originally posted by bisebchris

You plopped down in your seat, avoiding Steve and Peggy’s inquisitive gaze. Your heart was beating so fast and hard, it felt a woodpecker was trapped inside your rib cage.

When Bucky joined the table, he was visibly nervous, but had managed to collect himself a little. Upon seeing the dark hickey on his neck, Peggy jabbed her elbow into Steve’s side. He woofed out a breath and rubbed his ribs before he turned his head to look at her.

She nodded toward Bucky’s neck and Steve’s eyes widened. He reluctantly placed a ten-dollar bill in her awaiting hand.

Meanwhile, you and Bucky acted like nothing had happened. You noticed that he was trying to sneak peeks at you, but you stared straight ahead, ignoring him.

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Of A Mouse And Angels

Author: AvengeSuperWhoLock

Word Count: 1592

Pairing: LuciferxReaderxMichael

Summary: Being the youngest angel ever created, you’ve always been a bit of a loner. You spend your days following God around, learning what you can. Friends were hard to come by for you, especially amongst the angels. Then one day, God announces the news to you and his eldest sons. You’re the true mate to Lucifer and Michael.

A/N: The start of a new series, guys! Won’t continue until my semester is up :)

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Kitchen Counter (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Smut.
Word count: 2.4k

Part two: Laundry Room. Part three: The Club.

Summary: “Baby, we’re in your parents’ kitchen.” You muttered, squeaking softly, trying to push his arm away with both of your hands, but he just kept pressing those fingers into your core. “That’s what makes it so naughty.” He whispered against your neck before his mouth wound up back against yours.


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Peanut Butter Cookies

*throws allergic!Lance at you and runs away*

Summary: When Pidge’s birthday rolls around, Allura remembers her offhand comment about liking peanut butter. Little did she know that Lance is actually very, very allergic. (angst and fluff, and a bit of established klance because I have no self control and I ship it leave me alone)

I hardly ever post anything because I have no confidence ha so if you like it, let me know! This is very short compared to lots of other stuff I’ve written.

@taylor-tut I don’t think this is that good or even if it counts as langst/whump but I’ll tag you anyway and @voltronpaella thanks for actually getting me to post this my dude


When Allura called the Paladins into the kitchen, Lance expected some sort of emergency.

Why they’d be meeting in the kitchen, he had no idea, but he slid out of bed regardless. After removing his face mask he padded out into the hall, slightly resentful that he didn’t have time to straighten his hair.

Lance nearly bumped into Hunk in the hallway, who was also still in pajamas. The two were the last to arrive in the kitchen. He surveyed the others and found Shiro in full armor, Keith with an activated bayard, and Pidge rubbing the sleep out of her eyes with a laptop tucked under her arm.

“Princess, we’ve talked about this,” Lance grumbled. “You have got to stop interrupting my beauty sleep.”

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BTS Reaction to hearing you accidentally confess-

(for anon)


Jin-

Originally posted by bwiseoks

“So you got home okay?” Jin asked as you locked your front door. “Yes, i’m good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Okay see you Y/N!” “See you Jinnie, I love you.” Your eyes widened as you realized your mistake. The other line went deadly quiet. Before you had a chance to press the end button, he finally spoke up. “What kind of love?..” He asked softly. Of course you were going to deny, deny, deny. “The I would do anything for you kind of love.” But that didn’t happen. “I love you too Y/N…so much.” 


Suga-

Originally posted by boo-t-s

As Yoongi was telling you about this girl he’d met. You, once again, had to put on a brave face and pretend to be happy for him. “So I’m thinking of asking her out this weekend when I have a little bit of time.” You looked up at him with hurt in your eyes. Talking about this girl was one thing but asking her out? “You’re asking her out?” “Yeah? What’s the problem?” “You can’t fucking do that to me Min Yoongi!” It just slipped out of your mouth. Like word vomit. He looked into your eyes with an unreadable look on his face. “What does that mean.” He demanded. You shrugged and tried your hardest to keep your cool. “You know you can’t do that to me cause we hardly spend anytime together an-” Yoongi interrupted with a swift, loving kiss to your lips. Shocking you greatly. He pulled away. Just inches away from your face. “I know what you meant.”


J-Hope-

Originally posted by nochuie

Once you found out that Hoseok injured his ankle during a performance, you rushed to the dorms. Once Jimin opened the door for you, you pushed past him to get to Hoseok’s room. He was laid on his bed with his ankle wrapped up. A pair of crutches laid against the wall beside his bed. “Hoseokie..” you said before rushing to his side. He gave you a relaxed smile and shook his head. “I’m fine Y/N, you don’t have to worry about me. Just a little twist is all.” You shook your head as you examined his ankle. “Either way i’m going to take care of you, alright? I have some sick days from work so i’m gonna use them this week.” “Why would you waste your sick days on me?” You looked at him like he was crazy. “It’s not a waste for the man I love, Hoseok.” Your eyes went wide as you realized what you said. “What?…” Hoseok sat up a little. His eyes fixated on you. “What did you say?” You shook your head and stared at the floor. “Y/N what did you say?” He gripped your chin to meet his face. “I’m the man you love?” He asked. His nose was right against yours now. “Say it again. I’ve been waiting  SO long for you to say those words to me.”


Rap Mon-

Originally posted by trash-for-bangtan

“No way! Y/M you didn’t!” Namjoon said excitedly as he finished upwrapping the gift you got him. It was a book he’d been dying for, but couldn’t find it anywhere. You tracked down someone who had one of the original copies and paid a substantial amount for it. “Where did you find it?! I’ve been looking for so long, oh my God!” Namjoon went in for a hug but without thinking, and overcome with happiness due to his excitement, you went in for a kiss. Your lips met for a split second before you pulled away and gasped. “Oh fuck i’m…” you covered your mouth in embarrassment as your cheeks grew pink. “I’m really sorry..” You were about to walk away when Namjoon surprised you by grabbing your and sitting down quickly. You straddling his lap. “Do you know how long i’ve been waiting to taste those lips of yours?” He asked for pressing his lips against yours once more.


Jimin-

Originally posted by jiminrolls

You and Jimin always had a touchy, playful relationship. And for you, it escalated into a strong love that could never die. As you watched while Jimin played with the fingers on your hand, you spoke to a friend of yours on the phone. “No i’m busy right now but I can come by tomorrow. Yeah, i’m just with my boyfriend.” You said without thinking. You’d always secretly referred to Jimin as your boyfriend when people who didn’t know about him asked. You stopped speaking completely and looked up slowly to meet Jimin’s eyes. His eyes were wide opened, looking directly at yours while his mouth was slightly agape. “I…I’ll call you later.” You said quickly before hanging up on your friend. “Jimin, I-” “FINALLY!” He shouted while pumping his fists in the air. “My girlfriend!! Yes!!”


V-

Originally posted by kpopfordays

You and Taehyung were out for your weekly best friend dinner. You both loved picking off each other’s plates and being annoying so sitting by eachother was a must. You both were talking and eating when a nice older woman stopped by your table. “Excuse me. I just had to tell you what a lovely couple you two make. I bet it’ll last a long time.” She smiled. Before remembering that this was in fact real life and not your dreams, you spoke up. “Thanks so much, we’re really in love.” Your eyes widened when you realized that this was in fact reality. “I’m very glad.” She said before walking away. You couldn’t even turn to look at Taehyung. You then felt a pair of lips pressed against your cheek. “A long, long, time.” He whispered. You turned to look at him and blush before turning back around and leaning against him. Bringing up a piece of meat to your boyfriend’s lips. 


Jungkook-

Originally posted by jkookisdaddy

Realizing that it was way too late and raining way too hard for you to drive home, you decided to spend the night with Jungkook. The man you’ve been in love with for years now. You climbed into bed beside him and turned to bid him goodnight. “Night, I love you.” You said before turning back around and laying on your side. ‘Oh fuck’ you thought as it hit you what you just said. OUT LOUD. “Really?” Jungkook asked. You decided that pretending to fall asleep was the way to go so you did just that. “Y/N?” You stayed completely quiet, hoping he’d forget and just go to sleep. Before you knew it, you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist and pull you in close. “I love you too,” Jungkook whispered into your hair. 

It’s exam week and I am tired. Instead of coherent content, please enjoy this list of random dialogue that I currently have no context for:



Damian listened thoughtfully until Tim got to the end. “So basically we need your help. Any questions?”

“Yes,” Damian decided, after a few seconds of silence.

“Shoot.”

“When did I give you the impression that I cared?”

“Oh come on.”

“What was my mistake?”

“We’re on a timeline here.”

“No, really,” Damian asked, raising his hands in an exaggerated gesture of confusion. “Where did I go wrong?”


“I’m confused,” Duke told him. “Red Hood Jason or Trophy Case Jason?”

For some reason, Tim didn’t seem to understand the question. He pointed across the cave, to where Hood was sorting through medical supplies. “Jason.”

“So not the Robin that died.”

Tim pointed again, slower this time. “Jason.”

“That’s… the same person?”

“Yeah.”

“He didn’t actually die?”

“Oh boy,” said Tim, biting at his lip. “No, he was definitely dead.”

Was?”

“Short-term. You really didn’t know?”

“It’s not an uncommon name?” Duke could hear the panic in his own voice, but he didn’t feel inclined to check it. “Why would I assume that one person… came back from the dead?? Instead of assuming there are two people named Jason?”

“Oh boy,” Tim repeated. He turned to Damian, who Duke suddenly noticed was smiling in a very unsettling sort of way. “You didn’t tell him?”

Damian shook his head. The smile became downright maniacal. 

Tell me what??”


“It’s a family meeting,” Dick told him. “You have to stay.”

Jason collapsed back into his armchair, glaring. “You know sometimes I think I never actually came back to life? I just died and went to hell.” He crossed his arms. “Because honestly? This could be hell.”

“Stop being dramatic.”

Jason threw him a look that clearly communicated ‘when hell freezes over’ in the most dramatic way possible, or at least that was the goal.

Dick turned away, rolling his eyes. He seemed to get the message. There, Jason thought. Nailed it. He felt better.


“What’s the holdup?” Tim asked, settling onto the couch next to Cass. “Something wrong?”

Dick shrugged. “Bruce says he has an announcement.”

“We have a new sibling?” Tim guessed.

“What? No.” Dick frowned, probably running the odds just to be sure. “Not that I’m aware of, anyway.”

“You had to think about it,” Tim noted, and then turned to face the door as Bruce finally made his entrance.

“I have an announcement.”

“We have a new sibling?”

“What?” Bruce asked. “No.” His eyes flicked upward for half a second, and then he continued, decisive. “No, you don’t.”

“See?” Tim asked. “He had to think about it.”


“I thought you were against this plan,” Duke said.

Damian nodded. “I am, but Todd and I reached an agreement.”

“Yeah?”

“Simple bet,” Damian confirmed. “If it works, I have to go to Drake’s birthday party, but if Todd dies again, I get to put ‘Damian told him so’ on his new headstone.”

“Oh,” Duke told him. “That sounds… fair.”

Damian leaned back against the wall, smirking. “I like my chances.”

[scene break]

At that point, Duke became pretty sure that the plan wasn’t going to work. He looked from Jason, up on the rooftop, to Damian, who was calmly punching numbers into his phone. “Uh. Shouldn’t we go help him?”

Damian raised a finger in a give-me-a-second kind of gesture while he put his phone to his ear. “Hello, Elliot Funeral Home? How much do you charge for gravestones? Midrange. I see. Very reasonable.”

“Damian!”

“Fine,” Damian sighed. “Thank you,” he told his phone. “I’ll be in touch.”


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spaceless-sea  asked:

How are you? I hope well! Can you do a rfa+v and Saeran having to do seven minutes in heaven? Like honestly not even as drunk just sober. (Requests aren't open;-; but maybe later? Also I rlly love your blog like I'm most done with the masterlist^°^)

Author’s note: I hope you guys like this!!!! i’m still rusty ok it’s been awhile edit: I FORGOT V AGAIN someone please send in a request that says “add v” so I remember to edit him in here

Yoosung

  • “You wanna play cards? I brought them with me so we wouldn’t be bored!!”
  • Does he… Does he really not know what we’re supposed to be doing?
  • You looked down at Yoosung, who was already on sitting on the floor shuffling the deck
  • “Lemme guess… you’ve never played Seven minutes in Heaven.”
  • Yoosung paused for a second before shaking his head
  • You sat down next to him and smiled
  • He’s so cute…
  • “So what game do you wanna play, MC?”
  • But then again, this IS Seven minutes in heaven
  • “Strip Poker.”
  • Yoosung’s face turned bright red
  • “H-Huh? Strip?”
  • You smirked
  • “I’ll start.”
  • In one quick moment, your shirt was thrown across the room
  • “Okay, now you’re turn.”
  • Yoosung who had now achieved a new shade of red blatantly stared at your chest
  • “I-I… uhh, w-well-“
  • “SAY SOMETHING, YOU IDIOT!!!”
  • What the hell?
  • Yoosung looked behind you
  • “I think it came from the other side of the door.”
  • You stood up and opened the closet door, and in tumbled Zen and Jumin.
  • “So,” you crossed your arm and looked down at the two very guilty looking boys, “You wanna explain yourselves?”
  • The two of them began stuttering out excuses
  • “W-Well Yoosung’s never played before-“
  • “-I heard you were taking off your shirt-“
  • “-And I thought he might need guidance-“
  • “-So I wanted to hear the rest.”
  • You glared at them
  • “First, Jumin don’t be a perv, and second-“
  • “We were in the middle of something.”
  • You looked back at Yoosung, who had taken off his shirt
  • “And now that MC and I are even, I’d like to get back to the game.”
  • Despite the confidence behind Yoosung’s words, his face was as red as ever
  • You turned back around and smirked
  • “You heard the man!”
  • Jumin and Zen slowly got up, both mumbling curses under their breath.
  • You closed the door behind them
  • “Now, where were we?”
  • In the end the two of you ended up stripping to your underwear and then just playing go fish for the rest of the time

Zen

  • “W-What? I can’t be in a closet alone with MC!! How will I control myself?”
  • You walked over to the closet and gave Zen a smirk
  • “Who says you need to?”
  • 0.1 seconds later Zen was standing in the closet how the hell did he even get there so fast???
  • You closed the door and turned around
  • “So,” you clapped your hands together, “Show me what you got.”
  • Zen smirked
  • “You sure you can handle it?”
  • You raised an eyebrow, “I think you already know the answer to that.”
  • Zen smiled
  • “This is gonna be-“
  • Was all Zen could get out before hitting his head on the light
  • “Ohhh s-shittt…”
  • You rushed over to Zen, who was now bent over in pain
  • “Are you okay? Do you need ice? How bad does it hurt?”
  • Zen looked up at you with hazy eyes
  • “Slooowww down, youuu’reee talking wayyyy toooo fast!!!”
  • I’m not sure what’s more concerning… Zen’s slurred speech or the giant lump forming on his forehead.
  • “We need to get you out of here right-“
  • “NO! I want to give you… seven minutes…in…….”
  • THUD
  • “UHHHHHHH, GUYSOPENTHEDOORZENJUSTPASSEDOUT.”
  • “He did WHAT?”
  • Jaehee swung to door open, her eyes immediately traveling down to unconscious Zen
  • “What happened to his face? And why is the closet light busted??”
  • The rest of the RFA stood behind her, patiently awaiting your answer
  • “Well,” you looked down at Zen and smirked, “I guess he unleashed the beast a little too early.”

Jaehee

  • As soon as Jaehee closed the door she sunk down to the floor and sighed
  • “Finally… peace and quiet.”
  • You nodded, sitting down next to her
  • “Who the hell let Seven DJ anyways?”
  • Jaehee laughed, “I don’t know, but it was a horrible decision.”
  • It would’ve been fine if he just turned the damn the volume down…
  • You looked over at Jaehee, who was responding to an email on her phone
  • “Work’s got you pretty busy, huh?”
  • She gave you a sarcastic glare
  • “Doesn’t it always?”
  • The two of you began ranting about Jumin and the rest of the RFA
  • “I mean, does he think I’m just made out of cat toys? He can’t keep-“
  • “Wait… Jaehee?”
  • “Yeah?”
  • “I think our seven minutes are up… Did they forget about us?”
  • Jaehee checked her phone
  • “It’s been 12 minutes,” she looked back over at you and smiled, “so I think it’s safe to say they have.”
  • The two of you exchanged glances
  • It’s so nice in here…
  • “You wanna stay?”
  • Jaehee’s eyes lit up
  • “I thought you’d never ask!”
  • She set her phone down and yawned
  • “I think… I’ll take a nap.”
  • You reached up and turned the lights off
  • “Sounds good to me.”
  • You stared at the ceiling, waiting for the drowsiness to hit you
  • That was when you felt something warm slump on your shoulder
  • You looked over at Jaehee and she gave you a sleepy smile
  • “Do you mind if I use you as a pillow?”
  • Be still my heart.
  • “Y-Yeah!”
  • Jaehee closed her eyes, and within the next five minutes, she was asleep
  • The next morning Seven found both of you sleeping in his closet
  • And yes he was naked 
  • And yes he screamed
  • And yes you and Jaehee both screamed back
  • But it was still the best seven minutes in heaven you’ve ever played even if it wasn’t just seven minutes

Jumin

  • As SOON as the door closed he had you pinned up against the wall
  • “W-Woah, slow down there bud.”
  • Jumin closed his eyes and sighed, letting go of the grip he had on your hips
  • “Sorry,” he backed up and ran his hands through his hair
  • You practically feel him holding himself back
  • “Why are you so worked up??”
  • Jumin leaned back on the wall opposite of you
  • “It’s just, while we were out there, Zen kept… flirting with you.”
  • His nose crinkled when he said the word flirting, as if it were a disgusting word
  • “I know secretly dating is hard, but I really think its best.”
  • You looked up at him, “Especially with everything happening with your company…”
  • Jumin nodded, taking a step toward you
  • “I suppose I can’t blame Zen. You do look ravishing tonight,” Jumin smirked
  • You smiled back at him, giving him a small twirl
  • “Thank you, my boyfriend helped me pick this out.”
  • “I must say, your boyfriend has great taste. I bet he’s handsome, too.”
  • “Oh yes, extremely.”
  • “FIVE MINUTES LEFT YOU TWO LOVEBIRDS!!”
  • Seven’s yelling interrupted your conversation
  • “Hmm,” Jumin looked at you, “Do you think five minutes in enough?”
  • You pushed yourself off of the wall and grabbed Jumin by the tie
  • “Won’t know unless we try.”
  • And as it turns out, five minutes was more than enough time to… scroll through Jumin’s pictures of Elly

Saeran

  • “So.”
  • “Yup.”
  • “This is fun.”
  • “Really fun.”
  • For the first two minutes, those were the only words exchanged between you and Saeran
  • I have to do something to break this silence.
  • You cleared your throat
  • “Uhh… so how are you?”
  • SERIOUSLY??? Is that the best I could come up with?
  • “I’m fine.”
  • “…Cool.”
  • You looked down at your feet
  • I’m good too, thanks for asking.
  • this poor child doesn’t know how to socialize have mercy on him
  • When you looked back up at him, his eyes quickly darted away
  • Was he staring at me?
  • A light blush crossed his face
  • That’s… kinda cute.
  • You bit your lip
  • Well, this is seven minutes in heaven
  • Before your brain could tell you otherwise, you leaned forward and lightly pressed your lips against his
  • After getting over the initial shock that someone was actually kissing him Saeran grabbed your chin and deepened the kiss
  • When you pulled away, both of you were out of breath
  • You leaned back against the wall
  • “…So.”
  • “Yup.”
  • “That was fun.”
  • Really fun.”
  • Seven swung the door open
  • “TIME’S UP!!!”
  • You looked at Saeran and smirked
  • “Let’s do this again sometime.”
  • Saeran followed you out the door and grabbed your wrist
  • He pulled you back and lowered his voice so the other’s couldn’t here
  • “Name the place and I’ll be there.”
  • Oh, this was going to be f u n.

Seven

  • “♪♫YEAH, YEAH, YEAH, MC AND SEVEN IN HEAVEN FOR SEVEN♪♫”
  • You looked back the rest of the group
  • “Please help me.”
  • Jaehee gave you a pitying look and Zen saluted you “in honor of his fallen comrade”
  • Before you could anyone else’s reaction, Seven grabbed your hand and pulled you into the closet
  • “Your closet is a lot smaller than I thought it would be.”
  • Seven let go of your hand and laughed
  • “You do know I wear almost the same thing every day, right?”
  • You reached out to feel one of his shirts
  • “This one is my favorite.”
  • You pointed to the shirt Yoosung had gotten Seven for his birthday
  • It had a picture of the RFA on the front and the word “family” in Arabic on the back
  • “Mine too.”
  • Seven stepped closer to you
  • “You wanna see why I was so excited to get you in here?”
  • You felt your face heat up
  • “W-Well, I mean-“
  • “SAERAN TURN OFF THE LIGHTS!”
  • “What?”
  • As soon as the lights went off, Seven turned you around so you were facing the door
  • He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a tight hug from behind
  • “Look up.”
  • You tilted your head to look up at the ceiling
  • “Oh my…”
  • Glow-in-the-dark stars were scattered all over the top of the closest, turning the dull ceiling into a tiny galaxy
  • “It’s beautiful.”
  • Seven buried his face in the crook of your neck
  • “So are you.”
  • And that’s when it hit you
  • You were literally in heaven in with Seven
  • “Thank you.”
Request: Storm

Request: Can you write one where the reader breaks down to Bobby because she is pregnant with Dean’s baby. Thank you :)

Word Count: 1,069

<3

The rain has been coming down in buckets all night, and the wind whips at the sides of the house in such a way that every now and again, the foundations shake so severely that Bobby nearly ends up waiting out the storm in the panic room.

When he sees the flash of light outside the window followed by a rumble, he isn’t paying enough attention to think of it as anything but another facet of the storm. What he does pay attention to, however, is the frantic, loud knocking that reverberates well beyond the door.

The knocking doesn’t stop until he answers, pulling the door open to be bet with a harsh gust of wind.

“Y/N?” You’re soaked and dishevelled, and he isn’t sure which has smeared your makeup more – the rain, or the tears you’re trying and failing to hold back.

“Can- can I come in?” It’s a stupid question, but it’s the only thing your fuzzy, addled brain can come up with. Bobby doesn’t speak, but he nods, ushering you into the warmth of the house where you grew up and forcing the door closed against the wind.

“What the hell are you doing out in this?” Driving in this weather would be dangerous enough without you being in a complete state. You don’t reply, though, shivering in the hallway and wiping at your face in frustration. It scares him – you’re the closest thing he has to family: he’d raised you since you were six months old and your parents had been killed, leaving no-one to keep an eye on their demon-blood infected child. He’d taken you in, and found that he’d quickly become all too fond of you.

“Y/N, seriously. Where are Sam and Dean?” It must be something to do with them, because it elicits a sob from you, “I don’t want to play twenty questions with you.” He steps forward, resting his hands on your shoulders and pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead, “Give yourself some time, alright? Go get a shower, get changed. Everything’s fine. Nothing is going to hurt you while you’re here. I’ll make you a hot chocolate while you’re gone, just how you like it. How does that sound?”

To his eternal relief, that manages to get a nod and a weak smile from you, and he pulls you in for a gentle hug before letting you go. He doesn’t look away from you until you’re safely up the stairs, and then sighs to himself – he’s never seen you like this. But you need him, and he’ll be damned if you’re not going to have him to go to.

***

It’s nearly half an hour before he hears you coming down the stairs, but there’s nothing wrong with that – especially when he sees how much better you’re looking. Sure, your eyes are still red-rimmed and you’re still shaking with the effort it takes not to cry, but at least your clothes are warm and dry and your lips are no longer bluish with the cold.

You shuffle into the room and take a seat, swallowing hard before looking up at Bobby. He sets the hot chocolate – piled high with cream, chocolate shavings, and marshmallows – in front of you, and then takes the seat next to yours. The storm outside still batters the windows, but the kitchen is warm, and with the pair of you bathed in warm light, it’s almost cosy.

“Talk to me.” Bobby prompts softly, reaching over and resting his hand over the top of yours. He sees the way you flinch at the gesture, and for a moment he thinks the worst, “Is it Dean? Has he hurt you?” He hadn’t been overly happy when you’d begun dating the eldest Winchester two and a half years ago, but you’d been happy, and Dean had given him a heartfelt promise that his intentions were pure – but Bobby had promised in return that the moment Dean so much as breathed the wrong way at you, he’d find himself without the means to do so again.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I need you to talk to me if you want to fix this.”

“I can’t fix it.” You speak properly for the first time since you stepped into the house, “It’s broken. Very broken.”

“Still with the ambiguous, sweetheart.”

It takes you a few moments to muster up the courage to come out with it, but eventually, you do.

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence, apart from the sounds of the storm outside, fills the room. For a long moment, he can’t find it in himself to speak – and then…

“Do not drink that.” He wraps his spare hand around the mug and slides it away from you, reminded suddenly of the copious amount of whiskey he just dropped into that, “Is it… it’s Dean’s?”

You scoff, “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Of course it is.” Sorrow and bitterness taint your tone in equal measure, and Bobby winces.

“Have you told him?” He tries, and you nod again.

“Yeah. That’s what the second problem is.” You sigh, pulling your hand away from his in order to run your hands over your face, skilfully masking a sob – but not enough. Bobby knows you inside and out, and picks up on it instantly.

“He reacted badly?”

“If saying I’d ruined everything and needed to get the hell out of his sight is reacting badly, then I’d say so, yeah.” You spit, but your voice breaks and before you know it, your head is on his shoulder and you’re sobbing openly into him, everything coming out. He holds onto you tightly, a silent promise that he’ll never let you go; that you always have him.

***

It’s nearly three hours later, by the time he’s managed to calm you down and get you asleep. You’re still asleep on the sofa when his phone rings. He answers, begrudgingly, when he realises who it is.

“Dean?”

“Bobby? Have you heard from Y/N? She’s gone and we’ve been trying to track her all night, but we haven’t found anything.” He rattles off, his voice frantic and shaking.

“Why? What happened?” Bobby asks, watching you sleeping form.

“We got in a fight. I said something stupid. God, Bobby, I’ll never forgive myself if she doesn’t…” He cuts himself off, and swallows hard, “Have you heard from her?”

He pauses, “Nope. Nothing. I’ll let you know if I do.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

The Case of the Bed Stranger

Stiles/Derek, T, 1.5K words, College AU

Written for the following prompt: The house party me and my friends threw kinda escalated and after throwing out everyone I found this half naked person passed out in my bed but I can’t be bothered to wake them up now so I’m just gonna go to sleep and deal with it in the morning, they are kind of cute anyway AU


“Erica,” Derek says calmly—very calmly, he thinks, considering the situation. It’s two in the morning, he just trudged back from the library with a pounding headache behind his eyes, and he comes home to find their apartment the site of a raging house party, with drunk undergrads everywhere.

“Hey, Der,” she says, with that wide grin that only comes out when she’s had one drink too many.

“You didn’t tell me you were throwing a party,” he says, his jaw clenched, and she scoffs.

“This? This isn’t a party. This is a, uh, just a little get-together.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “It’s finals, for fuck’s sake. I’m going to bed, at least turn the fucking music down.”

He pushes through the crowd—accidentally hitting some of them with his backpack, oops—and finally seeks refuge in his room. The noise is dulled, blessedly, when he shuts the door behind him, and he exhales, letting his eyes fall shut. His momentary calm evaporates, however, when he opens eyes and notices the very important fact that someone is currently asleep in his bed, sprawled out on his stomach like he owns the place.

All Derek can see is broad bare shoulders, messy brown hair, and half of a mole-dotted face, pressed into the pillow and currently slack with sleep. Huh.

Derek sighs. He’s fucking exhausted, he doesn’t want to deal with babysitting some drunk kid right now, and he really doesn’t want him to wake up and then throw up in Derek’s bed or something.

Plus, the traitorous little voice in his head says, he’s really cute.

Derek shakes his head, irritated, as he drops his backpack on his desk chair. He strips down to his boxers and skips brushing his teeth—he’ll do it twice in the morning, and people are probably fucking the bathroom anyway, Jesus Christ.

Derek pulls back the comforter and gently slides into the bed, trying not to disrupt the mattress before he realizes that he’s being ridiculous. Why is he even considering a stranger’s comfort? It all seems for naught, anyway, because this kid apparently sleeps like the dead.

He takes a quick peek under the blankets, and at least the guy’s still wearing briefs, thank god. Derek doesn’t want to have to worry about accidentally sexually assaulting someone in his sleep.

He flops over onto his other side—thanks to the king size bed, his only grad school indulgence, there’s plenty of room—and closes his eyes. He’ll deal with this shit in the morning.

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Fixing things around the Haus was never really about the dibs for Dex. But, all the same, in the back of his mind he was still relying on his efforts in that department to secure him housing for his junior year at Samwell.

Which is why he’s a little surprised at himself for the sinking feeling in his gut when he’s officially offered a spot.

“Oh,” he replies dumbly.

Lardo blinks at him, clearly startled by his lack of enthusiasm, her hand still held out between them waiting for him to reach out and seal the deal.

Dex shakes his head and reaches his own hand out belatedly. Only to have Lardo pull back. “Bro. I’m not gonna give it to you if you don’t really want it.”

“No, no, I do! I promise I do. I’m sorry, I just thought…”

He thought that he’d be getting either Ransom or Holster’s dibs. And that Nursey would be getting the other’s. And, despite the fact that Dex has been dreading the very idea of that for the entire school year, he feels off kilter and lost now trying to imagine a scenario in which he lives at the Haus without Nursey constantly underfoot.

Even these past two years of living in the dorms, Nursey still always somehow manages to end up at the Haus whenever Dex does, stealing the last slice of pie while verbally needling at sore spots he knows well enough will get a rise out of his fellow D-man.

It seemed pointless to even hope that getting dibs wouldn’t somehow include Nursey at his side, and so Dex never bothered to factor in the possibility. He resigned himself to his fate. And now, presented with an alternative, he has no idea what to think.

“Do you, uh,” he clears his throat, watching Lardo’s eyes narrow at him, assessing. “Do you know who Rans and Holster are giving theirs to?”

“They’re giving them to Nursey, bro.”

“Right. But to Nursey and…?

“Just Nursey.” She shrugs. “Those bunkbeds don’t even have a ladder anymore, so we figured we’d turn the attic back into a single for now. And we thought we’d do you all a solid by making sure the SMH didn’t lose it’s next best D-man pair due to mutual homicide within the first week of preseason by making you shack up together. We’ve all seen how you two handle sharing a hotel room on roadies.”

To be fair, how they handle it nowadays is wildly different from the roughhousing mess of their first semester at Samwell. But apparently no one’s noticed that.

Dex goes abruptly still as a thought occurs to him that feels like a bucket of ice water over his head. “Wait. Was this Nurse’s idea?”

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  —  —  —  BUZZFEED UNSOLVED SENTENCE STARTERS

‘  strap in ‘cause this one is rough.  ’
‘  it’s– it’s yucky.  ’
‘  i’m aware of some details of this and it’s– it’s yucky.  ’
‘  i’m not a gambling man, but i don’t really like those odds.  ’
‘  we could conceivably run into this guy taking a dump in the woods or something.  ’
‘  are you fucking out of your mind?  ’
‘  i’m starting to think you want to die.  ’
‘  you turned a corner on that one pretty quick.  ’
‘  oh my god, it’s fucking horrifying.  ’
‘  there’s an elk, though. there’s a deer over there.  ’
‘  here’s the remains and rubble of one of the greatest unsolved mysteries of all time and you’re looking at the fucking deer in the forrest.  ’
‘  maybe they were in there telling ghost stories.  ’
‘  that’s not what pillow talk is, i don’t think.  ’
‘  pillow talk could either mean something you do after sex or it could mean what’s like sleepover talk.  ’
‘  do you tell ghost stories after sex?  ’
‘  all very effective for– for murder.  ’
‘  they stabbed him so hard that the knife bent.  ’
‘  you would think that there’d be at least one witness.  ’
‘  you see someone running through the forrest covered in blood, you’re probably not gonna bat an eye.  ’
‘  that’s not how the forrest works.  ’
‘  excuse me, sir. why are you covered in blood?  ’
‘  i’m glad to know that you would be the worst crime scene witness of all time.  ’
‘  oh, you were phrasing it in a dramatic way.  ’
‘  what is it about killers– that they want to be caught so badly… or like they want to get as close to being caught without being caught?  ’
‘  i can’t put my mind into the mind of a criminal.  ’
‘  i can put my mind into the mind of a criminal.  ’
‘  some of them must be friends, others would like to plunge knives into each other.  ’
‘  i can imagine one friend of yours murdering you.  ’
‘  i’m pretty sure there was a coverup by the police department.  ’
‘  70′s and 80′s police were always just like, ‘oh, you murdered someone? you got forty bucks?’  ’
‘  great! what else do you want?! i murdered people for you! and now… what?  ’
‘  oh, so i’m the psycho cause i murdered for you!?  ’
‘  what, the police were just writing fan fiction?  ’
‘  this is just baffling to me.  ’
‘  i guess that’s their job, but can you imagine how much goddamn paperwork is involved in that? so much!  ’
‘  i’m pretty sure we’re being watched, so i kind of wanna leave, to be honest.  ’
‘  i’ve had enough of this place and i haven’t even been here that long. i hate this place.  ’
‘  this boogeyman is very thorough.  ’
‘  i guess we’re lucky he got lazy.  ’
‘  the greatest safety precautions of our time are written in blood.  ’
‘  i think they’re tired of this ongoing saga that never ends.  ’
‘  you know, i actually disagree with that last sentiment.  ’
‘  this is like straight-up end of days shit going on.  ’
‘  this could’ve been the beginning of the zombie apocalypse, in my mind.  ’
‘  i’ve daydreamed about having an amazing bunker that has satellite tv.   ’
‘  ‘bad advil’ sounds like a shitty indie band.  ’
‘  the wild west was the 80′s.  ’
‘  in the 80′s you could walk in a store, pocket a soda, punch a guy in the face, and then be like ‘see ya later. fuck you!’ cops wouldn’t get to your door for weeks.  ’
‘  he had books that were just titled ‘how to crime’? if he had a book called ‘how to crime’ then there’s your guy.  ’
‘  oh, yeah… nah, i’m good. eh, bit of a reach.  ’
‘  some old lady in florida bought the unabomber’s typewriter?  ’
‘  maybe this guy was really in the dog house and was just desperate for any kind of turn of affection from her so he thought, ‘i know that i’ll do! i’ll write the fbi!’  ’
‘  no, i didn’t– what, is there anything to suggest that i would chase my mom with an axe?  ’
‘  i think you wear a mask sometimes.  ’
‘  maybe you should keep digging and see what happens.  ’
‘  these are two messed up weirdos who have found each other and it’s almost a shockingly beautiful love story.  ’
‘  i don’t get it. i just wanna talk about my work and everyone just keeps seeming to bring up all my past of all the shitty stuff i’ve done.  ’
‘  ugh, this guy’s gross.  ’
‘  it must’ve been fun to be a criminal in the 80′s.  ’
‘  everything before the 80′s – just lawless.  ’
‘  get your sunglasses ready because this one is packed full of bright stars.  ’
‘  i’m good to go. i’m always ready, baby!  ’
‘  it came true so she was actually warranted in all these fears.  ’
‘  this would be like if you were eaten by a shark.  ’
‘  i thought for a second we were talking about things that are actually scary.  ’
‘  i’m gonna let this slide because i know you’re just trying to get a rise out of me.  ’
‘  does that man have a magical penis or something?  ’
‘  you think the only reason someone would go back to someone is because they have a magical penis?  ’
‘  i feel like divorce is probably a lot of work.  ’
‘  do you not know how love works?  ’
‘  maybe i don’t know how love works.  ’
‘  i have a hard time imagining someone going gaga over christopher walken.  ’
‘  i bet when you get in a room with christopher walken, he commands the space.  ’
‘  i brought some cocktail weenies.  ’
‘  one of my greatest fears is that someone will trick me into doing heroin.  ’
‘  that’s the dumbest fear i’ve ever heard in my life.  ’
‘  how many situations can you be in that would put you up to that potential danger?  ’
‘  how many parties are you going to where heroin’s involved? it seems like a lot.  ’
‘  it’s the fear that someone would come up to me on the street and put heroin in me and then i’m hooked forever.  ’
‘  here’s what must’ve happened… these forty things, in succession.  ’
‘  what are you trying to do, fuck my wife?  ’
‘  why would he make this up?  ’
‘  he– he was just trying to fuck someones wife.  ’
‘  i can’t imagine murdering someone even when drunk.  ’
‘  when you drink you can imagine murdering someone?!  ’
‘  i ate a pumpkin once when i was drunk… i just took a bite out of a pumpkin.  ’
‘  that’s a rational fear!  ’
‘  that is not a rational fear!  ’
‘  these are the musings of a paranoid man.  ’

Iris and Lillium’s designs for mine and @i-read-good-books   Android AU collab!! (VERY NieR:Automata inspired by my (very annoying) requests.  hahaha ) 

Text by her:

—————————————————————————————————–

“from dusk til dawn

getting to know each other”


CLICK READ MORE FOR THE PV

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home after rain

blue orchids short story

pairing: jungkook | reader
genre: too much fluff.. too much cute
word count: 3.986
author’s note: surprise! \o/ I honestly have no idea how or why this happened. yesterday I just… started writing, and here we are, a few thousand words later. also, bear in mind that this is a sequel to blue orchids, so you need to read that one first if you want to understand this short piece. hope you all enjoy!

This story is set six years into the future within Blue Orchids’ universe.


The sun rays are melting on your skin. It has been a while since the skies opened up like this, leaving the sun bare to the living, its warmth a pleasant gift after days of storm and gloom. The sand under your legs and feet is, fortunately, not scorching — not yet, at least. The early morning is still warming up to the pristine sun, and the salty winds of the beach are still a strange mixture of the growing heatwave and the remnants of past iciness.

You cannot remember the last time you visited the beach, but it does not feel foreign or uncomfortable. It feels like you belong, mind at peace and body molding to the sand as your extended legs allow your toes to brush against the gentle waves that break and ebb away, water still too chilly to enjoy at its fullest.

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Imagine... Dean finding a Victoria’s Secret Bag

Originally posted by twoidjitsinthesalvageyard

Warnings: language, implied smut

A/N: quick little Dean drabble for you guys! For those of you who have seen NCIS, this was sort of inspired by the way Tony DiNozzo sneaks around when he’s prying into Tim and Ziva’s stuff. Hope you like it!

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my good friend @lena221b recently reminded me of a series of drabbles i wrote in response to anon asks aaaaages ago. i couldn’t find the original posts (we’re talking years ago, that’s too much scrolling for one mortal girl) so i decided to lump them all together here. the following are a few short snippets of derek and stiles’ life together. in my head they’re all part of the same universe. enjoy!


“I dream about riding you sometimes.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.

Stiles doesn’t seem to notice, just tries to roll himself back over. ‘Tries’ being the operative word, because he somehow manages to get himself tangled in his hoodie and then he’s just struggling on the ground with his head trapped in the sleeve.

Ordinarily Derek would help him, would feel guilty about dropping him in the first place, but right now he’s too preoccupied with choking on his own spit.

Stiles fights his way out of his clothing and gazes up at Derek.

“You’re so big though, I’m not even sure I could get my legs around you.”

Can werewolves go into cardiac arrest? Because it’s happening, Derek’s pretty sure it’s happening.

“And you’re so strong, too. I bet I could just climb up on there and you could keep going for hours.”

Stiles smacks his lips and wiggles on the forest floor and seems completely unconcerned with the way Derek’s world is rearranging itself around him.

“Such a scary wolfy,” Stiles mumbles, eyelashes fluttering. “You’re also really fluffy though.” He reaches out and starts patting Derek’s boot. “Preeeetty.”

Derek steps carefully away from Stiles and smashes his head into the nearest tree. A cut appears on his eyebrow and then heals before he’s even wiped the blood away. Because Stiles is talking about riding Derek in his wolf form. Like he’s some kind of glorified pony. And Derek is so pathetically gone on this boy that he’d let him. He’d growl and snarl and snap his jaws and then he’d get down on his haunches and carry Stiles wherever he wanted to go.

He’s absolutely, definitively not disappointed that Stiles isn’t talking about riding him in his human form because that would be gross and creepy and taking advantage of Stiles’ intoxicated state.

Right, Stiles, who is drunk, and burrowing into a pile of leaves.

Derek sighs at his life and stomps over to pick Stiles up again.

“Whoa, spinny!” Stiles shrieks and clutches at Derek’s collar. When he’s got his feet back under himself he looks around and frowns. “Nooo, no standing, it’s nap time.”

“It’s three o’clock in the morning,” Derek grumbles.

“Which is why it’s nap time,” Stiles insists, like it wasn’t his idea to get smashed in the woods in the middle of the night like an utter moron.

“You can sleep back at the loft, okay?” Derek bargains, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist and hauling him forward.

“Mmm your bed,” Stiles groans, stuffing his face into Derek’s neck. “Been trying to get into your bed for months.”

Derek drops Stiles flat on his face.

                                                              *****

The first time Stiles walks into Derek’s loft and finds him cooking he’s so stunned that he forgets to actually stop walking and crashes into a table.

Derek raises an eyebrow without looking away from where he’s blanching (blanching) vegetables. Once Stiles has stopped rolling around on the floor he uses two bar stools to pull himself right-side-up and brushes himself off as nonchalantly as he can manage.

“You cook?” he asks, trying his hardest not to appear incredulous, but Derek is wearing oven mitts so it’s not really going too well.

Derek levels him with his patented ‘why am I dating an idiot?’ look. It’s very, very flat.

“Yes, Stiles, I can cook,” he says, and pokes at something sizzling in a pan. Stiles boggles. Derek raises his other eyebrow this time. “Why is this shocking? You know I eat.”

“Well, yeah, objectively,” Stiles agrees. “I just always assumed you lived off a diet of Hot Pockets, squirrels, and the tears of your enemies.”

So very flat.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint. I’ll throw this in the bin and then head out to rustle up some woodland creatures.” He goes to turn off the burner and Stiles dives across the kitchen.

"No, no, no. This is good. This is — What is this?” Stiles takes a whiff and just about hits the floor again. “Oh god, feed me.”

(Stiles can cook too, but his speciality is sweet things. Derek couldn’t bake a cake to save his life. They’re a match made in culinary heaven.)

                                                            *****

"No,” Derek says sternly, giving Stiles everything his eyebrows have to offer. “Absolutely not.”

“What! Derek, come on, you know you want one,” Stiles wheedles, waggling his own eyebrows at Derek. He looks ridiculous and definitely not appealing.

“I have my hands full enough just trying to look after you.”

"Hey!” Stiles squawks. “I resent that! I am a fully functioning adult, thank you very much,” he says, puffing himself up.

All Derek has to do is glance pointedly at the thing curled up in Stiles’ arms and he puffs right back down again.

“I’ll keep her at my place! You won’t even know she’s there. I’ll take such good care of her, I swear.” Derek remains unmoved. Stiles pulls out the big guns. “Babe, please.” Damn him. “Just look at that face. You can’t say no to that face.”

The thing is, Derek is dangerously close to letting slip just how true that is. He’ll never be able to say no to Stiles. He might put up a token protest, but Derek knows that the second Stiles asks him for anything he’s already screwed.

And right now Stiles isn’t pulling his punches either. He’s got the big eyes and the pouty lips and his neck stretched out at the most perfect angle and Derek’s ready to fall to his knees and offer Stiles everything.

Except, what, no, not this time, Stiles is starting to make him legitimately insane.

“Who are you?! Hagrid?!” he exclaims. “Put the dragon down, Stiles.”

Stiles pulls this heartbroken face, and Derek is almost swayed except dragon.

“But she’s just a baby!” Stiles wails. “She doesn’t know how to look after herself.”

“She just singed off Scott’s eyebrows,” Derek says flatly. “I think she’ll be fine.”

(On the walk back to the Jeep Derek offers to buy Stiles a cat in place of the dragon, because they’re basically the same thing anyway and Derek is a sucker.)

                                                            *****

“I told you not to do it,” Derek sing-songs, condescendingly, not even looking up from his book. The ass.

“No you didn’t,” Stiles moans from his place on the couch. He removes his arm from his face to glare weakly at said ass. “You said, ‘As if you’d ever get your nipple pierced’. Which was basically a direct challenge. Which means of course I did it.”

Derek doesn’t even stop reading to roll his eyes at Stiles. He just kind of widens them slightly with a long-suffering look on his face. The ass.

"This is entirely your fault,” Stiles whines. Derek doesn’t respond at all.

Stiles wriggles around making pitiful noises until Derek snaps his book shut with a growl. “What.”

“It hurts,” Stiles sniffles.

“Well that’s because you poked a piece of metal through your flesh,” Derek bitches, but he gets up and walks over to the couch anyway. He lifts Stiles’ legs and settles himself down, Stiles’ thighs splayed across his lap. Then he curls his hand around Stiles’ knee and begins leeching his pain.

“Better?” he asks, and Stiles hums in the back of his throat, his eyes fluttering shut.

He’s just about to drop off the edge of consciousness when something hot and wet envelops his nipple. Stiles jerks violently and finds Derek staring up at him from his chest, eyes dancing. He grins wickedly and flicks his tongue against the bar and Stiles melts.

(Derek ends up loving Stiles’ nipple piercing. Stiles lords it over him for months until Derek comes home with a piercing in a much more sensitive place. Stiles’ mouth is busy doing other things after that.)

                                                            *****

Derek went into this relationship with Stiles with his eyes wide open. Which basically meant he was expecting a lot of sex, because every second word out of the kid’s mouth was innuendo and he smelled constantly turned-on. And Stiles did not disappoint. There was a lot of sex. A lot.

Derek was not expecting the cuddling. But five months in Derek’s beginning to wonder if Stiles is actually a were-octopus and just hasn’t told him yet.

No matter how aggressively he spoons Stiles when they’re drifting off to sleep, he’ll always wake up buried under warm, clingy boy.

When Derek joined the Stilinski’s in visiting the Sheriff’s mother over Thanksgiving, he passed out alone on the couch and woke to Stiles wrapped around him, his face shoved under a throw pillow.

Stiles holds him in the shower, tucks Derek under his arm at pack movie nights, plasters himself to Derek’s back in the kitchen when he’s soft and tired-eyed.

The first time Stiles grabbed Derek’s hip and rested his head on Derek’s shoulder while they were both brushing their teeth Derek spent two whole minutes staring at him in the mirror. The first time. Now it feels weird whenever he’s not lopsided during his entire morning routine.

For years after Kate, Derek was uncomfortable being touched. Other people’s hands made his blood pump harder and his breathing turn shallower and his muscles coil up. Now, the safest he ever feels is when Stiles’ arms are snug around his heart.

andallwaswell-ish  asked:

Seamus and Harry are a couple. Draco really doesn't like that. (fanon) Pansy is just the person he needs

“Quick, Pansy, kiss me.”

Pansy stares at Draco, her face screwed up at the absurd suggestion. There are so many things wrong with that statement. First, ew, she is not nearly drunk enough. Second, she doesn’t like to be rushed. And third, most importantly, nobody tells Pansy what to do.

“I will do no such thing. Why would you – “ her eyes scan the Gryffindor common room, following Draco’s gaze, and fall on Harry Potter sitting on Seamus Finnigan’s lap – “Oh, I see now.” She sighs loudly, accepting her duty as best friend, but also making sure Draco knows just how unappealing she finds the idea. “Fine.”

The kiss is brief and methodical and, all in all, incredibly disagreeable. Pansy only hopes that Potter glances their way to see it so it isn’t all in vain. As soon as her mouth is her own again, Pansy downs the rest of her firewhiskey.  “Never, ever, make me do that to your chapped lips again.”

“Sorry,” Draco says, looking past Pansy – she’ll forgive his inattentiveness this once, “It’s just –

“You needed to make Potter jealous?”

“Yes and –“ Draco pauses, and his eyes finally land on Pansy. About time. “How did you know it was Potter?

Pansy snorts. Draco really is an idiot sometimes. “Well you hardly have a crush on Finnigan do you? And Blaise told me sometimes you say his name while – “

“I’ll have a word with Blaise later,” Draco says quickly, a small blush appearing on his face – that he would certainly deny if Pansy were to mention. “Now hold my hand, make it look like we’re an established couple. I don’t want Potter thinking I’m easy.  If you put your arm – “

Draco’s voice falters, his gaze back on Potter. Pansy turns to witness Potter and Finnigan locking lips in a rather exaggerated fashion. It’s not romantic or erotic. It’s just a kiss. The two must have zero chemistry, much like Pansy and Draco.

“Although, clearly, Potter is very easy.” Draco puts on his cold, taunting voice but his own jealously is obvious.

Pansy rolls her eyes. Sometimes dealing with Draco is like dealing with a small child. She moves beside him and wraps an arm around his waist so they can stare at Potter and his current boy toy together. The two have stopped kissing and are now drawing patterns on each other’s hands. Gryffindors, honestly. “Would you look at that, Draco dear? They’re holding hands. They must be an established couple as well.”

“Do you really think so? Finnigan doesn’t seem like Potter’s type at all. And I’ve never seen them alone together before. I would have noticed it if – “

“How about we go over and find out?” Pansy shoves Draco hard and is pleased when he stumbles forward. She enjoys catching him off guard.

“Wait – Pansy, no.” Draco tries to protest but it’s too late. Potter has spotted them. He extracts himself from Finnigan and stands up to greet them, a hand running through his hair. Pansy has to hold back a smirk – she knows Draco loves when Potter does that. Not that he’s ever said anything. He doesn’t have to.

“Malfoy. Parkinson,” Potter says without even glancing at Pansy. Typical. And predictable.

Finnigan stands up beside Potter. Draco – what a surprise! – ignores this. “Potter.”

“Finnigan,” Pansy adds, only to annoy Draco. He gives her a reproachful side eye before returning his gaze to Potter. She suspects it’s the last time he’ll glance her way tonight.

They all stand there in silence. Potter staring intently at Draco. Draco staring intently at Potter. And Finnigan sharing a knowing look with Pansy. At least he’s not as stupid as he looks then.

Finally, Potter speaks up. “I didn’t know if you’d come tonight.”

“I never miss a party…even if it is hosted by Gryffindors.”

It’s not true. Draco has missed several parties over the years. But at this stage, Pansy doesn’t think Potter or Draco would even notice if she spoke so she keeps her mouth shut.

“Might be time for a Slytherin party next,” Potter says.

Draco is clearly holding back a smile. Pansy bets he is creaming his bloody pants at getting to have an actual conversation with Potter. “We get a little wild in the dungeons.” They don’t. “Are you sure you could handle it, Potter?

“I think I could rise to the challenge.”

“Subtle,” Pansy whispers to Finnigan. Honestly, Potter’s clearly got it as bad as Draco. It’s embarrassing to watch this train wreck unfold.

“So, Finnigan, that’s new.” Draco doesn’t even acknowledge that the person in question is still by Potter’s side. Finnigan shoots Pansy an amused look at being blatantly ignored. Things are clearly not serious with Potter.

“Very. And Parkinson?”

“I’m right here you know?” Pansy interjects, unable to hold back. But it makes no difference anyway. Only Finnigan hears her.

“It’s been a while,” Draco lies. Pansy wants to smack him around the head. Sure, she is happy to help make Potter jealous but there’s no need to exaggerate.

“Really? I always thought you were just friends?”

“Yes, well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”’

“Like how he calls out your name every night in bed,” Pansy mutters underneath her breath. Finnigan, at least, catches and appreciates the jab if no one else does.

“Of course. Sorry Malfoy, I didn’t mean to question you. I’m just having a hard time grasping you and Parkinson together. I thought you were…you know.” Potter trails off, a hand rubbing the back of his neck.

Pansy holds back a groan. It’s like listening to children with these two.

“Gay? Like you?”

“Actually, I’m bisexual,” Potter corrects. “But yeah.”

“Finnigan doesn’t seem like your type.”

Finnigan flips a half-hearted bird at Draco. Not that he notices.

“And Parkinson doesn’t seem like yours.”

“Because I’m out of his league,” Pansy points out, flipping her own violent bird at Potter. She doesn’t know why she’s even bothering standing here anymore.

Draco takes a step forward. “So, what’s my type then, Potter?”

Potter mimics Draco’s action so that they’re almost chest to chest – Really? “What’s mine?”

“You need someone who doesn’t hero worship you, someone who will hold you accountable for all your actions, someone who isn’t afraid of your temper. You need someone who challenges you.”

Pansy shares a confused look with Finnigan – did they rehearse this or something? Draco’s not usually this smooth with his words, especially with Potter in such close proximity.

“And you need someone who understands your vulnerability but doesn’t use it against you, someone who treats you gently, someone whose affection is unwavering. You need someone who forgives you.”

They must have rehearsed this. Pansy has never heard Potter say anything remotely intelligent before. And she hasn’t known him to be particularly observant either.

“And I suppose you could never forgive me after all that I’ve done?” Draco hits back, still just as smooth. This is getting ridiculous.

“I already have,” Potter responds immediately as if reading a line from a script. From a terrible cheesy muggle romance movie that Pansy would never be caught dead watching. Yet here she is witnessing this sappy display.

“What about Finnigan?”

“I was using him to make you jealous,” Potter admits. Pansy looks to Finnigan for confirmation – he winks. “Did it work?”

Despite using the exact same trick himself, Pansy can see Draco is outraged at being manipulated. “Fuck you, Potter.”

“You wish.”

And then they’re kissing. Enthusiastically. Way too close to Pansy’s face. She can see every stray strand of saliva, hear every lubricated slide of their mouths. It’s revolting. And worse still, they’ve become the centre of the attention at the party, eyes drawn to Draco and Potter’s embrace with Pansy and Finnigan standing by awkwardly, looking like dejected fools.

Pansy could spoil it by pinching the hairs on the back of Draco’s neck in vengeance for being ignored. Luckily, she’s feeling particularly generous tonight, and she’d never admit it, but seeing Draco with Potter is sweet. In a disgusting, horrible, sappy way of course. But still, sweet. Now she just has to focus on her own happy ending. She spies Hermione Granger’s amongst the watchful eyes around them and takes her moment:

“Quick, Finnigan, kiss me.”

Tricks (Part 1)

Request: Hello! How are you? Could I request a Joker x Reader where the he and his friends are arguing about who the most attractive/best with the ladies is and joker ends up betting he can seduce the reader. They fall in love but then reader finds out it was all a bet. Sort of a ‘10 things I hate about you’ scenario haha Thanks lovie

A/N: I COMPLETELY fell in love with this idea this is cute AS FUCK. Part 1 of ??

Pairing: Joker x reader 

Summary: Joker makes a bet he can seduce the reader but finds out he’s met his match. 

Warnings: Sexual implications? Probably swearing? Joker stuff. 

Originally posted by grysamobojcow

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Angel

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Mardi Gras shenanigans. It’s porn, plot is optional.

Word Count:1,976

Warnings: Language, Smoking, Dirty Talk, Oral (MR)

A/N: Are you ready for the longest blowjob in history… (I don’t own the gif)

“Did it hurt?” Sam approached you, a sly smirk on his lips. When you didn’t play along and simply shot him an unimpressed look, he snickered. “…when you fell from Heaven.”

Yeah, you were dressed as an angel.

Not your idea, though. As it turned out, Wanda was a big fan of Mardi Gras and begged until you all agreed to throw a costume party. Tuesday morning, she shoved a white dress into your arms and said you were an angel. You didn’t want to upset her, so you just rolled with it.

Sam laughed at his own joke before the smell of pancakes drew his attention away from you. You looked around the room and sighed, sipping your second glass of… whatever it was Natasha had given you. It was good, a bit fruity and bitter enough to match your mood.

Wanda, who was dressed as Violet from the Incredibles, was running around the living room, filling plates with pancakes. Loud music blasted through the speakers.

“Looking for someone?”

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A Better Word

They say the Fair Folk give journalism majors a lot of grief.

Truths exposed in writing, forms cemented in photographs, stories stripped of flowery prose in favor of concise words. The Fair Folk generally looked down on journalism itself with disdain.

Which made one wonder who would choose to pursue this particular academic career at Elsewhere University.

Some reporters argue learning among the harshest critics on Earth would leave them more than prepared for life beyond the University. Some photographers believe this is the only place on earth to capture something truly extraordinary. Some designers heard even the programs here behave differently, and the words and photos laid out on a screen became something more on paper. Some simply hadn’t known any better.

Bernadette hadn’t known any better.

Elsewhere was affordable, the journalism program seemed decent enough. She liked writing, but did not enjoy chasing victims of the Fair Folk people down for interviews. She liked photography, but knew her writing skills were stronger. So she fell in an unlikely place, a copy editor for the student newspaper. Well, one of. There were many papers, and she’d nearly joined the most prominent one. But the students who worked for it all shared the same bright green eyes, and the rest of the University seemed to avoid that paper like the plague.

Still, she needed experience to graduate in this field, right? Maybe they got a group discount on colored contacts, who knows. People in college are weird like that.

An upperclassman had saved her from venturing too close to THAT paper. He realized she had no salt, no iron, no idea what she had enrolled into. But, like finding her niche, she adapted. Survived her first year without tragedy. (The same could not be said for Sherry from across the hall. One of the Fair Folk had complimented her eyes, and asked if she could have them. Sherry, who hadn’t known any better, jokingly said sure. It’s been months since anyone’s seen Sherry.)

For the most part, the Fair Folk did not venture close to the newsroom. The room itself had been smartly moved the moment time began to behave differently. It was now just a cramped, previously vacant classroom, but with lots of windows. Access to the outside world seemed to weaken the chance of a space being manipulated by time. 

Or maybe that was a comforting lie.

It was a lazy Saturday, salt lines had been neglected and Bernadette was alone when one of the Fair Folk waltzed inside. Silver nitrate burns on her hands betrayed him immediately. His hair was was a dark, voracious black that seemed to leach color from the world around it. His razor-sharp smile held too many teeth. His skin seemed almost translucent.

      “What are you working on?”

A voice that seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere. Bernadette hadn’t given him more than a cursory glance before returning to the story on the screen. If she was afraid, she didn’t show it.

      “Editing a story.”

      “Chopping up pretty words in favor of boring ones?”

She smirked, adding punctuation to a sentence.

“I like to think of it as finding the best words. No sense in having a bunch of empty, meandering words when you can sum them up with one. For instance, I hate the word ‘very.’ It tells me there’s a better word, but the author hasn’t thought of it.”

The boy hummed at this, an unnerving sound, mulling it over.

      “So what if I told you I find this very boring?”

      “I’d say I’m sorry you find it dull.” 

His head tilted with mild interest. It then turned to sniff at her messenger bag, disgust showing at his inability to open it. She had always been particularly careful about her sigils and rowan. Bernadette hadn’t missed this display, tugging the bag out of arm’s reach before slipping a hand inside. Wordlessly, the boy was handed two sealed pads of butter. It was always good to have butter or cream on hand, in case you were taken. Some Fae found stealing humans more fun than actually keeping them and, in such a case, freedom could be easily bought. 

The boy grinned, ripping off the seals and lapping it up like a ravenous dog, teeth razor sharp and dripping. All the while, Bernadette kept editing the story. When every last molecule of butter was gone, he tossed the packs over his shoulder, turning full attention back to her.

      “What if I said I’m very tired?”

      “Exhausted.”

      “Very hungry.”

      “Starving.”

      “Very happy.”

      “Overjoyed.”

      “Very pretty.”

      “Beautiful.”

The boy threw his head back and laughed, sounding like a chorus of the damned, far too many sharpened teeth glinting in the afternoon sun.

      “Perhaps this isn’t so dull. What’s your name?”

      “Timmy,” Bernadette answered without skipping a beat. His grin widened.

      “No, it’s not. I bet Timmy is that reporter you don’t like. You’d be very mean to give me his name.”

She grinned in return, not at all fazed he knew there was someone here she loathed. The Fair Folk always knew something about something.

       “I can be devious sometimes.”

He laughed even harder, the room seeming to shake with the thunderous sound.

      “What did Timmy do?”

She scowled.

      “He’s a narcissist and a douchebag. Timmy encouraged one of our first-year photographers to capture Genevieve on camera for his story, and we haven’t seen the photographer since.”

The boy whistled, every gap of razor teeth producing a different tone. Her days of playing clarinet had long since passed, but she could have sworn every tone was sharp.

      “Genevieve does not like cameras. But she loves names. Perhaps a trade…”


Four days later, Timmy vanished, and Bernadette opened her dorm room to find the photographer on her futon, paper white and shoveling ramen noodles like he hadn't​ eaten for week. Knowing how obscure time can be in Elsewhere, it definitely could have been a week. His hair now turns green on Tuesdays and bank holidays, but he’s otherwise no worse for wear. And his hands are always burned. Always.

Every once in a while, when the salt lines are neglected, the boy with many voices returns. He has new phrases for her to deconstruct every time.

x

Truth

Author’s Note: i ruined my own ass with this one. chanyeol posted some instagram mess and i’ve been wrecked since 10AM.

Summary: You meet Chanyeol at a club, and you force yourself to be honest with yourself - about your wants, your needs, and who you really could be. 

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female)

Genre: smut

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: explicit sex; explicit language; dirty talk

Word Count: 4,773

Originally posted by babyuns

You aren’t really sure how you got here.

This is not like you.

Lie: you know exactly how you got here. With him. Pressed against your back with his hands on your hips; moving you, guiding you, easing you against his half-hard groin in time with the music. In the dark.

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