i did this a long time ago but that one was really ugly so i needed to do it again

⇁ paper doll | prologue

Originally posted by sugutie

pairing⇁Jungkook x Reader

genre⇁drama, slight angst ||  idol+singer-songwriter!au

warnings⇁sexual themes with smut in the next chapters, mentions of past unhealthy relationship 

word count⇁2k

When the nation’s little sister, IU, gets into a huge scandal, your agency seizes the opportunity to thrust you into that now vacant spotlight. Your self-composed song Paper Doll becomes an overnight sensation, and soon people are itching to find out who was the one who broke your heart. All hell breaks loose once netizens discover that you used to date popular idol, Jeon Jungkook. Little do they know that it wasn’t him who left the relationship unscathed — it was you.

alternatively: a story on the consequences of a hit break-up song

⇀  00 | 01 

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The Way I Feel Inside (Eggsy x Reader) Part 1

Summary: Based off of the song, ‘The Way I Feel Inside.’ (I saw Sing a month ago and honestly loved Taron’s singing so here we go)

Pairing: Eggsy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of

Word Count: 1636

A/N: So sorry about such a long hiatus guys. Hopefully this is a sign that my writer’s block is clearing up


Originally posted by thetaronblog



Eggsy and Roxy found themselves in a bit of a predicament.

To an outsider looking in, the partners appeared to be having a marvelous time. Eggsy twirled Roxy, her scarlet dress catching the light oh so perfectly that it sparked envy into some of the women in the room. Nevermind the fact that her date looked at her as though she were the stars to his moon, and the two appeared to whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears.

But in fact the opposite was true.

“What if they can’t reach us?”

Roxy smiled, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “Are you really doubting Y/N’s talents?”

(Your POV)

“Morgana, I must insist-”

You cut off Merlin’s protests with a simple glare. The man held his tongue, but you could see the conflict in his gaze as he rolled his chair beside yours. Your fingers moved with grace, pressing the appropriate keys as you attempted to hack into the most complex system you had met yet: the Kremlin.

“If you even hesitate for too long-”

“Merlin,” you said, clearly exasperated, though not tearing your eyes away from the monitor now. “If you ever expect me to one day take your place, you have to trust in my skillset. Why else would you have sponsored me?”

He didn’t answer, and for that you were grateful. There was enough stress surrounding your current situation, and you would be lying if you said that your main focus was completing the mission. No, it was to make sure Eggsy got out alive.

Not that anyone needed to know that.

(Eggsy’s POV)

“Galahad, can you hear me?”

Eggsy smiled at the familiar voice. “Loud and clear, Morgana.”

Roxy’s shoulders relaxed as they twirled along the dancefloor, now able to focus on their mission without worrying about if they would even make it home.

“Good. I’m looking at the blueprints right now. There’s a hallway somewhat hidden away to your far right.” Eggsy turned his head, allowing his eyes to be yours. “Right behind Ambassador Tolstoy, can you see it?”

“Yeah,” Eggsy confirmed, dipping Roxy so she could peer past the group of fat politicians.

“Do you want me to lead Fyodor over there?” His partner questioned, her eyes already searching the crowded space for the engineer they were meant to kidnap.

Both agents heard a chuckle, most likely from Merlin, when your voice spoke into the comms again. “Lancelot, no offense, but Fyodor does not necessarily go after people like you.” Eggsy could hear the smile in your voice. “Galahad, from what I’ve observed since the connection has been re-established, the man cannot take his eyes off of you.”

Eggsy’s cheeks burned a bright red as he chanced a glance to his left. Sure enough, there stood Fyodor Romanov, a Russian gangster who single-handedly led to the assassination of four Kingsman agents two months prior. The target sipped a glass of cognac, though it appeared he had an appetite for something that would guarantee a more prolonged satisfaction.

“Galahad, all you have to do is talk to him. Maybe flirt a little, maybe a kiss…”

Roxy laughed as Eggsy twirled her around. “You’re not helping,” he grumbled out.

“Merlin will be with you the whole time. Lancelot, I’m going to contact you on a separate frequency; we have something else for you.”

Eggsy led Roxy to the edge of the dance floor, where they removed themselves from each other. Roxy tilted her head to Fyodor, her eyes sparkling. “Have fun,” she said, before walking away to do whatever it was you needed her for.

As Eggsy approached Fyodor, Merlin attempted to give him a few pointers. “Just pretend he’s Princess Tilde.” Eggsy scoffed. “Right, forgot that’s a sour topic. I’m sure from a certain angle he has to look semi-appealing.”

Eggsy shook his head, grabbing a flute of champagne and chugging it. “It’s not that he’s ugly Merlin; it’s just that I can’t–”

“How about Y/N?” Eggsy froze where he stood. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you stare at her. I’m sure that with enough imagination, and more than just one glass of champagne…” He trailed off, hoping Eggsy could follow his method of thinking.

Eggsy siddled up to the bar, right beside Fyodor. Sending the Russian his most charming smile, he whispered to the bartender, “Your strongest. Keep it coming.”

(Your POV)

You leaned back in your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to will away the headache that was coming on. Too long staring at a screen did that to a person. Add to that the constant worrying about Eggsy… you really needed to sleep this one off.

You felt Merlin’s gaze on you, and dropped your hand to meet it. “What’s wrong?”

“Y/N,” it really never was a good sign when Merlin’s tone was serious, “how long do you plan to go on like this?”

“I have no idea what you mean.” You did.

“After what happened with Dean, I just don’t want you getting hurt again.”

“If you’re trying to imply I feel something for Eggsy, then you might need more rest than I do.” Not wanting to speak of the matter anymore, you stood from your desk and left, heading for your quarters.

Merlin sighed, shaking his head. It was then his stomach dropped as he saw your comms unit, discarded, but online. He turned it off, for once hoping his agents weren’t listening as they so often didn’t.

But fortune was not on anyone’s side that day.

***

For the next week, a palpable tension rested heavily in the air. In an effort to prove Merlin wrong, you spent the majority of your time overseeing various missions, leaving the array of monitors only to eithe eat, sleep, or use the restroom (though you found that with the help of some friends and a pillow, you could do the first two down there).

Meanwhile, you noticed Eggsy appeared to be a bit down the last few days, when you would see him that is, but you just assumed it had to do with Princess Tilde, who had gotten married that week as well. Remembering how willingly Eggsy went to her once a month, you would be lying if you said you weren’t glad she had gotten married; even Eggsy had limits. Yet that still didn’t mean you enjoyed his sour mood.

One day, you decided to approach Roxy about the subject. You found her in the gun range, eyes fixed in determination as her bullets went through the same hole over and over and over again. In hindsight, her cold stare and rigid posture should have given it all away.

Fast forward ten minutes, and you found yourself in the infirmary, listening to Roxy apologize again and again as the nurse stitched up the result of a bullet grazing your arm.

Not a second later Eggsy comes into the room, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene in front of him. “What the hell happened?”

You cut off Roxy before she could say anything. “Tried practicing in the shooting range again. Now you know why Merlin keeps me off the field.” You tried to smile but winced as the nurse pulled a little too tightly on your skin.

Eggsy nodded, his concern fading before that icy mask fell over him yet again. “Well, after you’re done here, he wants to see you downstairs. Something about a Japanese hacker group.”

Without another word he left the room. You turned to Roxy, who now avoided your gaze. “What the hell is all of that about?”

“He’s just been really upset about Princess Tilde.” She pressed a hand to her comms unit and sent you an apologetic smile. “Sorry I have to go. I’ll make this up to you.”

As she rushed out of the room, you felt a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time: loneliness. Sure, your friends were there (you supposed Merlin counted as a friend as well), but they were all lying to you. For the first time in a while, you felt like an outsider in a place that had come to mean home.

When the nurse cleared you, you headed straight for lower ground, deciding it better to immerse yourself in work rather than face the conflict at hand.

Merlin and Eggsy were standing there, waiting for you. Your superior’s eyes trailed to the bandage wrapped around your arm, to which you shrugged, wordlessly promising to explain it to him later.

“Morgana, thank you for joining us so promptly.” Merlin greeted. He turned to Eggsy, who seemed to be looking at anything except you. “Would you like to tell her or should I?”

Eggsy twirled one of Merlin’s pens in his hands. “You’re the boss.”

What the hell had gotten into him? But you didn’t have much time to contemplate this as Merlin turned back to face you.

“Lancelot is in Tibet for the rest of the month, and, due to the bombing last week, I barely have enough field agents as it is.” He couldn’t be serious. “I need you to join Galahad on a mission.”

You listened to Merlin explain the mission details. It was a usual: high class citizen who exploits their business for the sake of profits. This one in particular is suspected of human trafficking. However, your attention solely remained on Eggsy.

You watched him avoid your gaze purposely. His jaw clenched as Merlin explained the two of you would pose as a newlyweds attending a gala in Paris. Eggsy would be the supposed bastard of some aristocrat who you didn’t bother remembering the name of. The job was simple: get in, grab the banker, and get out.

Unfortunately, when it came to you two nothing was simple.


Here is Part 2

Freckles, Flaws, and First Steps

Wow my title isn’t one word for once. This is a one-shot for the below prompt from @alexandrbello which I got a while ago. Sorry for just posting this now, my life has been w i l d. Hopefully you guys are glad to see some writing!

AU where lance had freckles but is ashamed of them so he hides them and then he runs out of whatever he covered himself with and anxiety, then keith comfort and klance, lots of klance please, thanks

You got it.


Lance had always been an outdoorsy kid.

It wasn’t surprising, considering how close his house was to the beach. Growing up, the ocean was practically part of his backyard.

No matter what, if Lance wasn’t at school or doing any number of chores, he could be found at the beach. Rain or shine, night and day, whatever the circumstance, no one could stand between him and the shore.

Keep reading

“You seem very put together and secure in one self so I’m going to ask you this, and I would prefer it wasn’t publicly posted. Even if you don’t respond, that’s okay, but at this point I feel like I would appreciate a wiser person’s perspective. My boyfriend and I broke up, which may sound petty, but the shitty way I feel is not. It was because he was too overwhelmed to put effort into it. What would you suggest is the best way to move on from said breakup? HOW DO YOU PURGE YOURSELF OF EMOTION”

I asked this reader for permission to pull her question out of my askbox and answer it publicly because it seemed like it might be useful to more than one person considering becoming an emotional robot.

Dear Unnamed Reader,

First: you’re not going to like my advice.

Second: you don’t have to take it. I’m really only adequately equipped to give advice on how to be more like me, and trust me, sources are widely divided on whether this is a good thing. 

Third: I don’t think your turmoil is petty. One thousand ships have been launched in the name of a bad break-up.

Fourth: You ask me how to purge yourself of emotion. I reckon this must mean I don’t look like a hot mess on the internet, which is good to know. But I assure you that when something pings my emotional radar, I feel all feelings at level 11. Example? This morning, I gave Lover a ride to an errand. We took my old Camaro. On the interstate ramp, I put the car through its paces and experienced the burst of joy that comes in third gear at 4400 rpm. Once the car had settled, I realized Lover was staring at me. “God,” he said, “can you be any more happy?” No. No, in fact, I couldn’t. Emotions are binary in Maggie Stiefvater. You should have seen me when I first heard Two Door Cinema Club’s “Sun.” I almost died from happiness. 

But that also means my negative emotions are dialed to 11. I don’t often get upset — I’ve just become so unreasonably plucky that I assume all woes are transient, so whatevs. Because of my outsized belief in my ability to problem-solve, I really only get upset when I feel powerless. 2015 turned out to be the year of powerlessness: terrible things happening to friends, to my family, in the world. I finally broke last weekend over a comparatively tiny thing —a news article printed stuff about me that was so hilariously not true that I thought no one would believe it, particularly as the truth was still perfectly findable. But they did. And I couldn’t do a thing about it without stirring things up more and getting yet more messages telling me how glad they were to see me shot down from my Raven Cycle induced high blah blah etc. A minuscule thing — but yet more powerlessness after a year of epic powerlessness. I proceeded to launch 1,000 emotional ships. Work ground to a halt. I listened to Kygo’s remix of Matt Corby’s “Brother” 62 times in a row without pause. I sat under my office desk, only emerging to give in to to my OCD, which demanded, among other things, 17 clothing changes in 8 hours because SEAMS GOD THE SEAMS WHY. I blew a deadline. I flew to Colorado. I exceeded the speed limit in a rental Nissan that was not meant to exceed the speed limit. I blew another deadline. I paced until I couldn’t feel my knees. I thought about how I’d ruled out self-harm as an option a decade ago. I returned home. I sat on the shower floor for a very long time. I failed to sleep. I could have pretended that I wasn’t hurting, but — 

Fifth: you cannot cut out the sad emotions without cutting out the happy ones. 

Sixth: I am a disgustingly happy person. I fucking love life. The number of things in life that please me daily continues to astonish me, considering how terrible the world is. But I’m a happy person because I’m also sometimes a wretchedly sad person or terribly angry person. If you want to live life turned up all the way, you have to be open to the possibility of both joy or despair. 

Seventh: which brings me to the advice you’re not going to like: being miserable right now is not a bad thing. What you’re feeling is a valid response to a situation that you feel powerless in. It’s horrible. But you feeling genuine pain now means that you can — and will — feel genuine happiness at some point. Agony and joy come from the same place: being emotionally invested in your own life. 

Eighth: The way back to happiness is getting out of the cycle of powerlessness — basically, finding a place you can have agency again. Your misery is going to want you to find a way to be powerful in your current miserable situation. If you’re anything like me, you’ve rehearsed a few thousand options in your head. Calling him and winning him back. Making him feel as sad as you. Sending ugly greeting cards to his mother. Anything that would make you feel like you’re not completely helpless. But you need to find something else that you can be the boss of. Remind yourself of the things that make you feel like a badass. It doesn’t matter how silly or stupid they are. It can be as difficult as a project that you think will change the world, or as easy as playing a song that always gets you high. Do that.

Ninth: Do not listen to Kygo’s remix of “Brother.” It will not cheer you up.

Tenth: There is no tenth, but I really wanted one. So eat more leafy green vegetables.

urs,

Stiefvater


ETA I CHANGED IT TO 2015 I DON’T KNOW WHY I KEEP CALLING THIS YEAR 2016

To the high school graduates ...

Here is something I wrote a few years ago that is still quite applicable, especially re:Hot Pocket™ safety.

Hello, high school graduates! All of you are likely close to collapsing under the weight of well meaning old-people’s advice, which for the past few months has piled up like so much smug, well-meaning snow. Allow me to add my own dusting.

1. Leave high school behind you, now. Whether you were the most devastatingly cool guy in all of McNary High School or the most excruciatingly awkward girl at Sprague, once you leave high school, no one will know. Or, more importantly, care. Most really cool people who do interesting, creative things with their lives didn’t have super happy high school careers. Many really cool people had great high school experiences. But any reasonably cool person over the age of 19 knows that what you earned, or endured, in high school has zero bearing on who you are the day you graduate. I know. It seems SO IMPORTANT now. But … it’s not. Not even a little.

2. Manners count, and they’re free. You can get away with murder if you do it politely, because whoever expects a polite murderer? Manners make other people feel comfortable and happy and respected, and when people feel comfortable, happy and respected they are 8,000 percent more likely to let you get your way.

Say please, thank you, excuse me, it was so nice to meet you, hope I see you again soon. Whatever you do, send thank-you notes so people are inclined to keep doing nice things for you.

3. Chew with your mouth closed. In fact, sometime when you’re alone, go sit in front of a mirror and watch yourself eat, then make any necessary adjustments now before it becomes a permanent habit.

4. If people expect you to go to college, but you’re not super-excited about it, skip a year and work before you head off. It’s not the end of the world, and it doesn’t make you a failure. That time is too expensive and too precious to use on something you’re half-assed about. Also, I speak from experience — folding jeans at a store in the mall for minimum wage for a few months made me feel very differently about how tedious and mindless sitting through a lecture class feels.

5. Unkindness, from here on out, becomes less and less attractive. Cruelty is one of the four main currencies of high school, along with attractiveness, athletic ability and actual currency provided by your parents (I see you, West Salem kids!). In high school, a profoundly mediocre person can rule — or at least maintain a position at the periphery of the popular kids’ group — through fear.

But once you get into college, you begin to leave that b.s. behind you. You don’t have to be mean to be funny. You don’t have to be mean to disagree with someone. You don’t have to be mean to someone powerless to prove your power. All meanness showcases is that you have ugly internal architecture. And as the facades that were so important in high school fade, that is what others will see when they look at you.

6. Know which classes you have to go to, and which ones can be skipped in lieu of more important things. Yes, if you want to go to Harvard Law or John Hopkins Med, you need to ace all your impossibly difficult classes. But if you want to do something post-college that doesn’t involve grad school — if you want to work in non-profits, if you want to write for a paper, if you want to do public relations, if you want to run a business — then instead, look for ways that you can get those experiences in college.

Join extracurriculars that mimic the experiences you someday want to get paid for. If you hate doing it for free, then chances are you’ll resent it even when you get paid for it. Also, this way, when you graduate college, you can prove to employers that you did something, not just wrote compelling papers on the metaphysical nature of being.

7. If you’re a person for whom the hooking up thing doesn’t work, then don’t do it. College is a time of lots and lots of casual sex. This, I think, plays pretty well into what many — not all, but many — 18-year-old guys want, and terribly into what most — not all, but most — 18-year-old girls want. Know what you want, and don’t feel bad if that’s not in line with what someone else wants. Also, know that after freshman year, people begin to date again rather than just drunkenly coupling and uncoupling.

8. Freshman year, you can and should be friends with everyone. Sophomore year will tell who is actually worth keeping.

9. After you microwave a Hot Pocket, be sure to gently tug open the end and let the steam out, and wait a couple minutes, because there is nothing more painful than a Hot Pocket steam-and-molten-cheese burn to the top of the mouth.

10. Don’t tell the internet too much about your love life, or deep innermost feelings, or secrets. It’s none of the Internet’s business, but the Internet has a big mouth and a long, long memory. Make good friends, and tell them in person when you hang out in each other’s dorm rooms and watch movies and eat Funfetti frosting straight out of the jar. Do this a lot. It doesn’t seem important, but it is.

anonymous asked:

Hi!!! I was wondering if you could do how rfa+v+Saeran would react to seeing old self harm scars on MC or MC relapsing? I am almost 1 year clean from Self harming but today is one of those bad days I get urges to do it. If you don't feel comfortable doing this it's okay :) Hope you have a good day and keep working hard 💪🏼❤

i’m so proud of you for staying clean so long, i know how hard it is!! i have scars myself from 1-2 years ago, so this was comforting for me to write as well :) i hope it helped you feel a bit better, remember that you deserve being happy! ❤ i’m always here if you need someone to talk to 


Trigger warning: self harm


Zen (this turned out really long whoops)

  • A lot of his fans were jealous of you, so you got a lot of hate for being “to ugly and fat for Zen”
  • You were home alone as he was at rehearsal, so he couldn’t scold you for looked down at your thighs in disgust
  • They were faint, but the old scars on them gave you an idea. You hadn’t done it in a long time, but you remembered that it did feel calming to a certain degree
  • You went to the bathroom, popped out a blade from your razor, took a deep breath and let yourself feel that familiar burning
  • Suddenly you heard the front door open and Zen’s voice telling you he was home early
  • You scrambled to find something to wipe the blood away with, and ended up just messily wiping it away with a paper towel before pulling on a pair of his sweatpants and going out to greet him
  • He smiled when he saw you, then frowned
  • “Princess, I feel rude to ask, but are you on your period? You’ve got blood on your pants”
  • Shocked, you looked down and saw that the cuts appearantely were too deep for your messy wiping, so there was quickly growing blood spots on your legs
  • Zen was no stranger to people with bad mental health around him as he was a public figure, so he quickly suspected what you had done
  • When he saw that the spots got bigger his fears were confirmed, and you saw his entire face fall
  • “I-I can explain…”
  • He cupped your face and looked straight into your eyes with the saddest look you had ever seen 
  • “Listen here… I know a lot of my fans don’t treat you right, is that it?”
  • His worried stare was too intense, so you looked down with tears in your eyes and just nodded
  • He sighed and pulled you close to him, kissing your head
  • “I love you so much, it hurts me too… But harming yourself won’t do anything good, you understand that? Can I see..?”
  • Hesitantely, you nodded again and pulled down the pants so he could see, and he got down on his knees and started kissing your thighs, not caring that they were bloody
  • “I love every single part of you, you understand that? Let’s go clean and wrap this up, I will protect you. Even if it’s from yourself”


Yoosung

  • He convinced you to cook with him
  • You were supposed to make cookies, but the only thing you managed to make was a total mess
  • By the time you finally got them into the oven, you both had dough and flour all over from the food war you had
  • He offered to clean some up from you, and when you agreed he blushed and kissed you
  • When you smiled into the kiss because he tasted like cookie dough, he gained confidence and slowly pushed you back to the wall, where he pinned your wrists over your head
  • You moaned softly in suprise as he wasn’t usually this dominant and it was really hot I’m always a slut for dominant Yoosung
  • Wanting to see what effect he had on you he pulled away for just a second, when his eyes were pulled to where he was holding your wrists
  • The sleeves you usually made sure were always covering your scars had rolled down to your elbows, revealing all of them
  • You saw his eyes go from filled with lust to filled with worry, and you looked away from him in shame
  • “They’re all old… Right?”
  • You nodded and he sighed relieved, before he hugged you tight
  • “You mean so much for me, I don’t want you to ever feel like that again. Please talk to me if you feel bad, okay? Can you promise me that?”
  • You agreed and he kissed your head
  • “I think it’s time for cookies and cuddles”


Jaehee

  • You had such a crush on her, but she was either really oblivious or just didn’t like you back
  • No matter what the reason was, it really hurt and you couldn’t help but feel insecure when all of your flirting got turned down
  • You really didn’t want to stoop so low as to go back to your old self harm habits, but it was so hard
  • In addition to the fact that you lived with her, the stress of running a café and your parents not accepting that you had a crush on a girl, it all got too much for you
  • One day when she was grocery shopping, you couldn’t help but find a small knife in the kitchen, locking your bedroom door and resume your old habit
  • You tried to keep them relatively shallow so they would heal quicker and lower your risk of getting caught, but once you started you found it hard to stop
  • You sobbed softly but because of that you didn’t hear Jaehee return from the store
  • Not finding you in the couch where she left you, she wandered around the appartment untill she heard you and stopped in front of your room
  • “MC? What’s wrong?”
  • When you didn’t answer she got worried, found a spare key and unlocked the door with a warning
  • You didn’t even bother trying to hide what you were doing, you just hung your head in shame as she gasped in shock
  • “W-what do you think you’re doing? Give me that knife!”
  • She quickly took it from you, ran to the bathroom to get a first aid kit and found you full on crying on the bed
  • Putting bandages on your wrists she softly said “Shh… I don’t know why you did this and you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to, but please know that this isn’t going to make anything better”
  • When this just made you cry harder, she kissed your newly bandaged wrist
  • “I… I care way too much about you to see you like this, you should know that. Please come to me if you ever feel like this, okay? I can’t ever lose my reason for happiness”


Jumin

  • Whenever the two of you made out, you would always stop him when his hands started roaming under your shirt
  • Which he thought was fair, considering that your relationship was still new and you probably just weren’t comfortable enough with him yet
  • A few weeks after you started dating he offered to take you on a vacation, figuring you needed it after the stress of the party and hacker and all that
  • With Elizabeth the 3rd safely at V’s house and a mansion by a private beach rented for the weekend, he wanted to spend some time alone with you
  • He was suprisingly fond of the beach and wanted you to take you swimming there, but you kept declining
  • Kind of upset, he asked if there was any spesific reason why
  • You shrugged it off and said that you just weren’t in the mood, that you were tired and wanted to nap instead
  • He encouraged you to do as you pleased, not showing how hurt he was that you declined his offer
  • An hour or so after you had fallen asleep, he got bored and went to check on you and saw you sleeping, your shirt riled up revealing dozens of scars on your belly
  • His heart broke when he realized that was probably why you were so insecure about intimacy and going swimming
  • Careful not to wake you up, he hovered over you on bed and kissed your stomach
  • Despite his efforts you still woke up, and squeeled suprised when you saw him practially praising your biggest insecurity
  • “Kitten, I don’t ever want to see you do this again, but please understand that I love everything about you and you have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re like a tiger, these stripes show that you are strong. Promise to not hide yourself from me anymore, okay?”


707

  • Yet again he was doubting your love and pushing you away
  • He yelled when you tried to hug him, not knowing that the reason why you were clingy was that you were feeling like shit and needed to be comforted
  • You knew you were overreacting when you stopped by the bathroom to get a razor before returning to your shared bed (that he rarely used), but it just hurt so much that he didn’t trust you even after months of living together
  • Taking a deep breath, you pulled the leg of your pants and traced the outline if your old scars on your shin with the razor blade
  • Seven did realize how much he had hurt you, and just to be sure he checked the security camera he had installed in your room
  • When he saw that you were hurting himself he rose from his chair and ran to the bedroom, desperate to stop you
  • “Stop what you’re doing right now!”
  • You looked at him with tears in your eyes and yelled “so now you care?!”
  • With a firm look he pulled up the sleeve of his hoodie, showing his own scars and cuts
  • Taken back, you looked confused at him
  • He just smiled sad
  • “I know life is hard, okay? I know I am a shitty boyfriend, a shitty brother, a shitty person. But that doesn’t mean you are, do you understand that? It might not seem like it right now, but I really do love you. Like, I really love you. Can we make a deal? If you try to never do it again, so will I”
  • You nodded and hugged him, both of you apologizing for not being there for each other


V

  • Being practically blind, he depened a lot on his touch
  • Because of this, he had really sensitive finger tips
  • As weeks passed and you got closer to the handsome photographer, you let him touch and explore more and more of you
  • His new favorite hobby was to just run his hands over your smooth skin, trying to picture exactly what you looked like
  • During a particularly steamy makeout session you were on his lap, his hand travelling up your thighs where he could feel raised lines on your otherwise close to perfect skin
  • Pulling away from the kiss and raising an eyebrow questioningly, he kept tracing the lines
  • You hesitated before you admitted that you had self harmed, and he asked you if you had any other scars
  • Nodding despite his lack of sight, you took his hand and placed it on your wrist so he could feel them
  • He smiled sad and kissed your wrist
  • “You don’t have any fresh, do you?”
  • When you confirmed that you didn’t, he held you closer and kissed your nose
  • “I like everything about you, you know? You’re human, bad things are bound to happen sometimes. You got through it though, and I’m proud of you for that. Please remember that”


Saeran/Unknown

  • He didn’t like to admit it, but something about you pulled him towards you
  • The way you always put up with his bursts of anger and sadness and comforted him, made him care for you more and more as time passed
  • So when he saw you sleeping on the couch, his first reacting was to smile as you looked cute and carefree
  • And as he did find you quite attractive (not that he would ever admit that), he couldn’t help but let his eyes roam over your sleeping body
  • When he saw the scars and cuts on your wrist where your shirt had riled up your arms, he got mad
  • ?? Who had dared to hurt someone as nice as you??
  • He woke you up suprisingly gently, wanting to know who he needed to kill
  • Disoriented from sleeping, you said that he didn’t need to worry but he refused to give up, so he asked his brother
  • He admitted that he had seen you harm yourself but hadn’t really figured a way to confront you about it yet
  • Saeran got even more mad and walked back to the couch where you had gotten up and was now lazily stretching
  • “Why the fuck are you hurting yourself? Explain!” he growled and pushed you against the wall
  • Stuttering and ashamed you explained that it was a way to deal with sadness, but he didn’t get it at all
  • “Giving yourself another type of pain will just make you more sad, you idiot! God, what’s wrong with you?”
  • Hearing the guy you were crushing on saying this to you and literally growling made you tear up, and you saw his expression change to one of sorrow
  • “I-I’m sorry, okay? It’s just… You’ve helped me so much and I want to return the favor, but I have no idea how to. You… You are special, I don’t want you to be sad”
  • You met his eyes and saw how sincere he was, and was suprised when he hugged you tight
  • “Please don’t ever do it again, MC”


~jane

Friends Part 10 ( Final Part)

Summary: You and Bucky are friends for a long time, but lately you start to develop romantic feelings for him. One day one of Tony’s parties everything changes but maybe not the way you wanted or expected.

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Words: 1750

Thank you @amrita31199 you are the best this series couldn’t have been done without you.

credits to the gif owners

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

You don’t know how much time you two spent kissing, the only thing you know is that you can feel the butterflies in your stomach and goosebumps on your skin. His metal hand is keeping you closer by your neck, making you shiver at the contact.

You don’t want this moment to ever end.

You rest your hands on his chest making sure that you aren’t touching any of the bruises on  his ribs, eventually you break the kiss needing to breathe “I love you, but it is late …you really should get upstairs eat something and get a good night of sleep.” He says worriedly caressing your face and kissing your forehead. You can feel that he doesn’t want to let you go at least not just yet and you feel the same way.

Keep reading

Mistake

Well this is my first langst fanfic and I hope you enjoy! The only warning here guess it would be Suicidal thoughts.

~


“Why are you like this?! Why can’t you do it right for once in your life?! Its always like this! You always get us in tight knots! Why can’t you be more like Keith?!”

The words came out and the room fell in silence. Lance just stood there staring at his shoes with wide eyes. He didn’t mean for it to go this way. He was doing what he had been told, cover Hunk and Pidge as they went into a cave to get the things needed to get the castle’s defenses back to their full force and not just the particle barrier. He had said it before though, that he couldn’t handle the galra on his own. What response Allura gave him? ‘You will have to because the castle can’t be defenseless, Shiro is in a pod and we need the best functional fighter pilot here with us’. That being Keith of course. So when the galra got too overwhelming he did the only thing he thought was logical.

He destroyed the entrance of the cave to assure that Pidge and Hunk were safe before flying away from there so no galra could harm the other two. Sure him and Blue got quite the beating but he held out enough to get help. If it had been Shiro it wouldn’t have bothered Lance, but of course, Shiro was in a pod after their last mission (which apparently was Lance’s fault as well) so no other than Keith had to go and save him. Lance didn’t mind the help IF Keith hadn’t found the need to make sure Lance knew he sucked as a paladin.

Lance knew he was not a tech genius like Pidge, he knew he wasn’t good at engineering or cooking like Hunk, he knew he didn’t have the slightest bit of leadership like Allura or the strenght of Shiro or the wisdom of Coran. He also knew that, even if he hated it, Keith was indeed a better pilot than him. Lance was already used to this actually. Everything went to the same thing and he had come to accept it.

Keith was better than him.

At the Garrison he was a cargo pilot, because the spaces for being a fighter pilot were full. He did got a chance to be a fighter pilot! After Keith left. He was there to simply replace the empty spot Keith left, not because he was good, but because of the need to fill that spot.

It was nothing new to hear how people wanted him to be more like someone else. In his childhood he was always seen under the shadow of his younger brother Rafael. Of course that did quite the wonders on him since not only was he compared to someone, that someone was three years younger than him.

When his mother said “why can’t you be more like Rafael?” It had stung him deeply. Just because he wanted to be a pilot and not a doctor didn’t mean he was going to fail. That wound only got bigger at the Garrison. He would always be compared to Keith, in everything. When Iverson and other superiors yelled the typical line of “why can’t you take example from Kogane here and actually do things right!” It made the wound bigger and bigger, he just pretended it didn’t harm him and that he didn’t really care for what they told him. It stung deep in him, reopening old wounds of always being pushed to this same loop of being under a shadow.

What always helped him through was the support Hunk gave him. They knew each other since diapers so they knew each other like the palm of their hands. Hunk knew how bad Lance’s pride had been hurt, how people had just stomped over him all his life. So when those words left Hunk’s mouth specifically his world just came crashing down.

He had thought that he did bring something to the team.

He thought that he was the sharpshooter, he thought that when the team thanked him for looking out after them that he brought that to the team. Hunk had been the one to tell him that he brought the happiness and cheerfulness the team needed to not fall into a death pit of emotions. So he thought that maybe he was indeed useful. That what everyone in his life told him about him being useless and a failure was a lie.

Now he knew that it must be the other way around for Hunk, out of everyone in the room, Hunk to be the one to tell him these words. He could careless if it had been Keith, or Pidge, even Shiro, but for Hunk to say those words that have tormented him for so long was the final straw for it all to just cumble at his feet.

Hunk stood there panting harshly the rage and annoyance clear in his eyes. He had just been patched up as he had been wounded because when Lace shoot the entrance him and Pidge were apparently on their way back and he had decided to take most of the damage than it being Pidge. They hadn’t talked to him in about an hour after they got into the cave so how was he supposed to know when they were going out when they had shut him down for that entire hour? Pidge was fine just with minor scratches. Shiro had walked out of the pod just to be greeted by Lance and Keith bickering before Hunk exploded so he was staring at Hunk with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open. Shiro has always been the only one that has told him he wasn’t useless, of course appart from Hunk, but now he really was the only one. It was no secret that Lance admired him so maybe that was why he hasn’t told Lance, maybe he didn’t want to hurt him. Lance didn’t need that pity, not when he had already been broken.

Lance looked up at Hunk him himself unable to tell what expression he was making, but apparently it was enough for Hunk to gasp and his eyes to widen in realization to what he had said. It was too late now. Lance now knew that if so many people pointed the same thing out it was because it was true.

“L-Lance..I-I…Lance I didn’t mean…” Hunk stuttered, his mouth hanging open as Lance lifted his hand to stop him from going any further. Everyone in the toom stood silent.

“It’s alright Hunk. Thank you for telling me and making me realize I have been lying to myself this whole time, I mean. How long has it been? Twenty something years? You couldn’t lie forever to make me happy.” He hated the wavering and cracking in his voice and was aware how everyone had heard it so he tried to muster his best fake smile “don’t worry about it, Everyone has always said it right? So guess it must be true” he said, pushing away Blue’s conscience as she tried to reach him.

“Lance no, its not true, I-I didn’t mean that” Hunk tried again, giving a step towards Lance who shook his head stepping back “Lance please, I’m so sorry”

“No buddy, really, don’t feel bad. I’m the one that’s sorry. You’re right after all, I can’t do anything right, I’m just a burden. I weight the team down. Even I don’t know what blue saw in me to have chosen me as her paladin. Maybe you guys could’ve defeated Zarkon years ago if I wasn’t the blue paladin. I’m just a miserable cargo pilot. In fact” he scoffed at the pathetic the stinging in he eyes, he didn’t knew if he was already crying or not but he was trying his hardest not to. What he did know was that he must be close to hyperventilating giving how ragged his own voice sounded and the painful crushing feeling in his chest. Was he having a panic attack? Was this what Shiro felt evey time he panicked? “I’m just a mistake. Mother had told me once. That I was just a mistake, she said it when I told her that I’m bisexual I mean, look at me! I’m all lanky, I’m dumb, I’m stupid, I’m annoying, I’m ugly, I’m a failure as a son, as a brother, I’m a failure as a pilot and apparently as a friend as well. I should have simply not been born.” He smiled the same smile trying to keep his lip from quivering, deciding on blocking off Blue as she kept trying to get in his mind. She didn’t deserve him, she was so kind, so caring, so loving that Lance simply didn’t deserve to be her paladin.

He couldn’t take it anymore, there were too many emotions, too many voices, too many touches, there was too much pain in him for him to analyze who was touching him and who was talking. He needed to get away. Of course he hated running from his problems so he always tried to face them but now, he needed to run. That is exactly what he did, he ripped all the hands that were touching him away from his body and ran, he ran as if his life depended on it, which in his book, it did depend on it. He ran into his room and slammed into the touch pad urging the door to close and locking it when it finally closed. He panted walking from the door scoffing as no one attempted to get him to open it. He didn’t even know why had he felt like anyone would run after him when they simply didn’t need him.

Pidge didn’t need him.

Coran didn’t need him.

Allura didn’t need him.

Keith definitely didn’t need him.

Shiro never needed him.

And now, Hunk, the only person he thought that needed him didn’t seem to need him.

Lance choked on a sob gripping at his shirt over were his heart is and whimpered letting his body fall on his bed facing the wall. He sobbed taking his jacket off and tugged his shirt over his head feeling constricted with them on. He sniffled and sobbed as tears cascaded now freely down his cheeks. He grabbed his jacket and hugged it to his chest.

When all of this loop of people comparing him and judging him started he would always go to his papa. His papa was a fighter pilot and he was his real hero, ever since he was young, he was the only person from his family he respected enough to idolize. His parents divorced when he was young and when his mother had remarried came Rafael and all the others. Lance was the off spring of a bad time for his mother so of course he was treated differently. When he didn’t feel good he would go to his papa. His papa would always take care of him no matter the hour or what he was doing, he would leave everything he was doing for Lance. That was until he died in a mission leaving this very jacket to Lance.

“Papa, it hurts so much” he whispered between sobs and gasps. He bit his lip harshly trying to not be loud. He didn’t need to guilt trip Hunk. Hunk had his right to tell what he thought and to be honest with him. He burried his face into the jacket sobbing into it, atleast like this they wouldn’t hear him. “I’m so tired papa, I miss you so much. It’s always like this. I simply do not belong here. I only belonged with you a-and ever since you died…” he hiccuped sneaking his hand to his chest and clawing at it over where his heart was, not caring if it bled or not just trying desperately to get rid of the painful clench in his heart. “This pain, it won’t go away. N-Now I’ve no one left, I made Hunk hate me, I lost my best friend too. I-I don’t know what to do now. I’m so tired of always enduring. I sometimes just wish that I-I…” he clasped his mouth shut when there was a knock on the door, his body going stiff and he didn’t answer.

“L-Lance? Look… I know I stepped over the line… heck I stepped miles on the other side of the line, please lets talk.” Came Hunk’s voice muffled by the door. Lance just bit his quivering lip trying to control his hiccups and sobs to prevent any sound from leaving him. He couldn’t face Hunk, not now. He was too vulnerable for this, in fact, he didn’t want to face or speak with anyone.“ He’s not answering”

“Let’s give him time, Hunk. You know he’s a fucking drama queen” came Pidge’s voice sending another wave of pain through his heart.

“Yeah, after a few days of his shit he’ll come out and we would go back to normal” added Keith before Shiro scolded them both with a harsh tone.

“Hunk, You being the one to say that about him may really have affected him, give him some time to calm down” Shiro said calmy and reassuringly as Hunk sighed deeply.

“Alright… I just… I mean… yeah you’re right…” Hunk said before he left. Lance took a shaky breath before a strangled cry left his throat after he made sure he didn’t hear anyone outside. The clench in his heart tightening painfully which caused even more sobs and cries to rock his body.

He caused Hunk pain. Lance knew when he cried. Hunk’s voice would go deeper than what it was and would have a rough tone. Lance could tell he was crying which only made everything worst. What kind of friend he was? Causing so much misfortune and pain to his friends, to the people he loved. He was not friend, he was no son, he was no brother. He was a monster.

He flipped unto his other side facing the desk he had in his room. It was pushed against the wall and on top of it, among his other stuff, was the bottle of the Altean version for pain killers. They were stronger than human meds so instead of two tablets he only had to take one and it would work just right. Allura had emphasized that they can’t take more than that giving that they would cause an overdose in their human bodies.

Maybe, just maybe, they could erase the mistake the world had made.

The Tenth Floor pt4

Min Yoongi had gone through 34 secretaries in the past 24 months, and each one of them left in tears. This fact alone should have warned you against taking the job, but the pay was too good to pass up. Surely you could put up with a billionaires temper-tantrums, right?

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, humor, probably some angst

Warnings: Strong language at times, maybe some slight smut eventually

Part 1, 2, 3

“You seem to be settling in well.” 

You looked up from the files you were re-organizing for Yoongi to see Namjoon standing in front of you with a smile. He had been the one to hire you, but you hadn’t seen him since, and you had to admit it was good to see him. You hadn’t realized it when he interviewed you, but he seemed a lot more sane and normal than any of the other people there.

“Yeah, so far so good.” You returned his smile, bending the truth slightly. It wasn’t like you had expected this to be a dream-job, but also hadn’t realized what a pain everyone else who worked there would be. 

“Yoongi hasn’t been too horrible, then?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow, sitting down across from you. 

You shrugged. “I’m sure running such an important, large company puts a lot of stress on him.” You said rather than answer his question.

“In other words, he’s crazy, but you can handle him.” Namjoon laughed, and you couldn’t help but join in. Min Yoongi was crazy. Not even a half-hour ago, he had started screaming that someone stole his checkbook, only for you to walk in and tell him it was in the top right drawer of his desk (you had seen him put it there the previous day).

“Maybe a bit. But I can certainly handle him.” You agreed. 

“I have a good feeling about you.” Namjoon said suddenly. “I’ve hired people from all over the place, from amazing schools or with years of experience… But there’s something about you. I really think this is going to work.” You were relieved for a moment, thankful that someone believed in you. But then Jimin wandered over, flicking Namjoons shoulder.

“You’ve said that shit before.” He said with a sigh.

“Have not.” Namjoon replied indignantly. 

“Have too.” Jimin snorted. “Remember Mike? You were positive he was perfect for the job. And Melissa? You said there was no way for it to go wrong. And then there was Kevin…”

“Okay, stop.” Namjoon said, obviously flustered. You tried not to be disappointed. The only person who believed in you apparently believed in every other employee who had failed. 

“Face it, Namjoon. You’re a terrible judge of character.” Jimin said, patting Namjoon shoulder sympathetically before walking away. Namjoon turned back to you looking rather guilty.

“I really do have a good feeling about you. And I talked to Yoongi yesterday, he doesn’t seem to mind you.” He was trying to make up for what Jimin had said, but you really wanted the conversation to end.

“Thanks, I appreciate it–really, I do. But is there something that I can help you with? If not, I really do need to get this done and I have some phone calls to make…” 

“Right, yeah, of course you do.” Namjoon stood abruptly, still looking embarrassed. “I actually need to speak with Yoongi for a minute, so if you’ll excuse me…” He nearly ran into Yoongi’s office door in his haste to get away, and you shook your head as you returned to your work. Somehow, you didn’t think Namjoon was actually going to be any help to you while you worked there.


“Let me guess, you missed the bus again?” Kim Taehyung said through the phone. Your day had dragged on for what felt like forever, your lunch break practically non-existent because Yoongi had decided that all of his filing cabinets needed to be reorganized (which they did, they were a total mess, but it was still tedious work that took a while). You had missed the bus again, but at least this time you weren’t soaking wet with a broken heel. “I’m not far, I’ll be there in a few.”

You might have been able to leave earlier if you had really pushed for it, but you were still hoping to somehow get on your bosses good side–though, you were starting to wonder if he even had one. After Namjoon was done talking to him, Yoongi had been in a significantly worse mood. He had complained about everything–his schedule, his coffee, the fact that he thought your shoes were ugly–before dumping piles upon piles of paper on your desk. 

Missing the bus was also a good excuse to call the strange taxi-driver you had met the day before.

“So tell me, how exactly does one barely miss the bus two days in a row?” Taehyung asked when he pulled up, rolling the window down and greeting you with a smile. 

“It’s a long story, but it’s just as well. I have some shopping I need to do anyway.” You said, not sure why you were telling the driver this. “Apparently my shoes are ugly, so I’m going to get some new ones at the mall…”

Taehyung twisted around in his seat so he could see your shoes for himself before he started driving. “They don’t look so bad to me.” He said thoughtfully. “And what do you mean, ‘apparently’ they’re ugly? Don’t you like them?” He pulled away from the curb as he spoke, glancing at you briefly in the rear-view. 

You shrugged, looking down at your flats. You didn’t think they were ugly, but you weren’t sure you wanted to put up with another day of Jimin and Yoongi both criticizing them. 

“I wouldn’t have bought them in the first place if I didn’t like them.” You sighed. “It’s other people who have a problem with them.” 

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “And you care what they think?” 

“I mean, no, but–”

But you’re going to replace perfectly good shoes because someone whose opinion you don’t care about says they’re ugly?” You weren’t sure how you felt about Taehyung-the-taxi-driver hinting that you were conforming to other peoples standards, and shifted slightly in your seat. Taehyung didn’t wait for you to answer, simply continued with another question. “Are they against your companies dress code or something?” You assumed he was referring to your shoes.

“No?” 

Taehyung seemed to be personally insulted that someone had a problem with your shoes, which was very odd. “So what difference does it make to you what other people think about your shoes?” 

You wanted to argue that you didn’t want to give Jimin a reason to bully you, or for Yoongi to have another reason to hate you, but it sounded childish in your own mind. What did you care if Jimin said rude things to you? And if Yoongi fired you over your shoes, then maybe working for him wasn’t worth it after all. “It doesn’t really matter…” You agreed slowly, and Taehyung pulled over.

“Good, so I’m not driving you to the mall, right?” He looked at you in the mirror again, grinning so hard that his smile looked more like a box than anything else. 

“I… Guess not? But…”

Taehyung blinked, then laughed. “So are you free the rest of tonight?” 

You couldn’t believe this. Was your taxi driver asking you out? That was ridiculous. “I don’t know…” You started. You really should catch up on sleep, this job was draining and you needed to be alert in the morning. 

“Nothing weird, I promise. There’s just something I’d like you to see.” 

The last part could be taken in a number of ways, but there was something about Taehyung that made you think he meant it in the most innocent way possible. “Okay.” You agreed, not entirely sure why. There was no reason for you to go anywhere with him, unless it was to drive you home.

“Fantastic. I promise you won’t regret it.” Taehyung pulled back into the street quickly, before making a U-turn and driving the other way. He didn’t tell you where you were going, and you didn’t ask. 

Keep reading

This Is Going to Be About Heroes

Enough of the educators who were at ALAN/ NCTE ‘16 have asked me for the transcript of my keynote there that I’ve finally decided to post it. Here it is, give or take.


_________


This is going to be about heroes.

I’m going to tell you three stories about heroes and bravery, and then I’m going to tell you how all three of those stories could be told differently.

Nowadays, I find myself a professional storyteller. A maker of heroes. I spend my days putting swords in stones, monsters under beds, ghosts in attics. I have learned that often the difference between a hero and a villain is merely the narrator I choose for the lens of the story. I have learned, too, that the difference between a horror and a romance is sometimes as simple as where I choose to begin the story. A tragedy and a comedy can convey the same events — the difference is in how you tell them.

I’ve also learned that this isn’t just true of the stories I write. It’s true in the story I’m living. The first hero I ever built was myself.

So. These three stories. I’m sharing these three stories about heroes because I want to talk about how the most important stories we tell are the ones we tell about ourselves. Those who have the power and wherewithal to change the narrative of the events around them are the ones who will change the future. Those who have the guts to say “that’s not my version of events” when they hear someone else telling their story are the ones who get to own their own story.

Here is story number one: I drove down to NCTE from my home in Virginia on Saturday. It was supposed to be about a seven and a half hour drive but it turned into a ten hour trip because of Atlanta traffic. Because of my car’s tiny gas tank, I ended up stopping for gas three times. Each time I pulled into a station, a thing happened, the same thing that’s been happening every time I park my car in a public place for the past month. I’ll get out of my car and swipe my card at the pump, feeling like there are eyes on me. I plug in my zip code and put the fuel nozzle in the car, and as I do, I’ll see that the eyes are attached to a motorist or a pedestrian who has paused to stare at me. By the time the tank is full and I’ve gotten my receipt, I’ll discover that they’ve made their way over to me. The conversation goes pretty much the same way every time.

Keep reading

Happy (A Boyf Riends One-Shot)

Notes: I spent FOREVER on this. And I know it’s very clunky at parts. But I hope you enjoy this.

WARNING: LOTS OF MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND SUICIDE ATTEMPTS

Michael always thought that you should be happy with yourself and who you are. Who cared what other people thought? As long as you, yourself, was happy. Why the hell did it matter?

Which he knew that this kind of out-look on life wasn’t shared by his best friend. But Michael understood. It’s easy to see what others think and ignore yourself. That didn’t mean that Michael didn’t try to change that.

So what? They were losers. Weren’t well liked, weren’t popular. To Michael he was just happy to be himself and to have Jeremy. Jeremy was the best person in the world. Michael knew that the day that Jeremy defended him all those years ago.

Michael could always be himself around Jeremy. That he could tell Jeremy anything. Jeremy didn’t care that Michael was living by himself, that he was gay, or that he was Filipino. So in turn, Michael accepted himself.

But when Jeremy fell out of the formula, Michael didn’t expect that the equation would break completely.

Jeremy got what he wanted, his own formula, the squib. Jeremy had gotten what he wanted. And Michael couldn’t lie with the fact that he was glad that Jeremy was happy.

Jeremy was better off without him? So be it. Michael could live with that. Michael could live with being the loser. But as the days went on. He would periodically check his phones for texts. Weeks, he would somehow show up to his house after school before turning back. Months of him just trying to TALK TO-

So, it turns out being the loser wasn’t as great without someone being one with you. Michael always considered himself lucky to have a friend as cool as Jeremy. But it looked like that luck ran out for him.

It always seemed to do that.

Now, Michael doing research wasn’t because he thought Jeremy would come back to him. Well, mostly. He knew Jeremy was changing himself. To be chill. And those moments when Jeremy looked like a single bit like himself, there would be a second of shock. Then Jeremy would be sitting straighter, voice lowering, and barely have his eyes open. Not giving a care about the world around him.

He also began to notice Jeremy not eating as much as he used to. Sure, Michael was barely at lunch or the rest of the day anymore (spending it at 7/11 rather than sitting next to a lab partner who ignored you sounded a lot better). But was it possible for Jeremy to get any skinner than he was?

So it started with just asking once, curiously, cautiously, on a server. But then it grew, the stories, the news articles. It was all there. No more bullshitting. Michael didn’t care anymore about having his best friend back. He just wanted him ALIVE AND-

Well, it never seems to work that way. Sneaking to the party? Easy. But talking to Jeremy again was the hardest thing he had to do. And no preparation could’ve helped him with what happened.

“Get out of my way.”

“Or what?”

“Move out of my way. Loser.”

Loser.

With a capital L.

A title.

He was no longer Michael, no longer His Favorite Person, no longer Player One.

Loser.

Michael used to always think you should be happy with yourself. But what was even the point if not even your best friend liked you anymore?

He wished that he burned along with the house.

He wished that the firefighters hadn’t find him.

He wished that Jeremy would’ve came to see if he was even alright.

If Michael died, maybe someone would give a damn.

But Michael didn’t die, but he tried. The burns covered his arms, they didn’t even look natural anymore. It didn’t really matter though, his arms were already ugly enough before.

But he was surprised to see Rich at the hospital the day that Michael was allowed to go home. Rich was a mess. He looked around nervously, his body tensing several times a minute, despite being in a full cast. Michael could see all the pain in his eyes, his face.

Michael then remembered his Mountain Dew Red, the one he had brought with him to the party. For Jeremy. Still in his pocket.

He remembered walking in, Rich looking at him with panic in his eyes. Michael took off the cap.

“Rich, I know it’s hard for you right now. But I NEED you to swallow this.” Michael said. Rich looked at the bottle, and nodded frantically.

Michael slowly poured the soda into Rich’s mouth. He knew he needed more based on how long he had his Squip. Drinking half the bottle, before his head snapping down. Michael almost freaking out when Rich let out a huge yell. He backed away as nurses came to check on him, taking this as his opportunity to leave.

Michael hoped Jeremy wouldn’t end up like that.

Michael didn’t care for the medicine they gave him. Let his arms rot. It’s nothing compared to what he feels already. It didn’t really matter anyway.

It turns out that no one knew that it was him who was left in the house that night. More people were focused on Rich and about him not being drunk when he set the place on fire. Really, Michael didn’t give them a reason to notice. He showed up to school that next Monday morning, big red hoodie covering his new burns. Jeremy didn’t spare him even a look. Michael didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed.

But somehow despite his ignorance to his medicine, they already healed within two weeks. Well, healed to be scars a color paling to his skin that he knew would be there forever. But as he stared at his horrid limbs, he saw the almost ruined pacman tattoo. He was surprised to even see it intact. But faded, and holes in the yellow face.

Michael knew that Jeremy always wore those long sleeves to cover his half. Who knows, he might’ve gotten it removed by now. Michael wouldn’t be surprised. It was all just pointless now. The tattoo, the video games, their friendship, his silly little-

No. It was all worthless. Worthless to Jeremy. Worthless to him. So worthless… y'know? Michael was tired of looking at it, his arms were damaged enough anyway. While he was at it, needed to burn some stuff too.

But Michael didn’t expect to see Jeremy’s dad. He didn’t know how he knew but he just, he had to get rid of it, rid of all of it. Rid of all the memories, the emotions, the feelings. He had to get rid of-

Jeremy.

God, Michael just knew that he loved that boy more he could ever love himself. He had to get up, get his pants on. He knew that maybe Jeremy would never feel the same. But Michael had to support him.

Michael kept one new bottle of Mountain Dew Red with him. Even as he walked into the auditorium, sitting in the front row. Michael wasn’t looking forward to him trying to talk to Jeremy again after the show. But he was excited to see Jeremy in the show. He bet Jeremy would be great. This was pretty good for a school play.

Too good.

Jeremy!

Before Michael had time to think about what he was doing, he got out of his seat and ran to one of the doors that led backstage. He couldn’t help but shout to his appearance, was he high? Maybe. But Jeremy’s face and hearing his own name on Jeremy’s lips. Made Michael the happiest he had been in months.

But Michael didn’t expect Jeremy to run after him. He thought he was gonna get one of Jeremy’s special hugs that Michael hadn’t had in so long and-

“Look out!” He heard Jeremy yell. He snapped out of his thoughts as he moved to see that Jeremy was trying to push him.

“Dude! What the hell?” Michael questioned.

“It’s my Squip dude!” Michael didn’t know how happy hearing the word ‘dude’ could make him.

“What do you want me to do?” Michael asked.

“Get me to drink it! Force it!” Jeremy yelled coming closer. His walk, however, was powerful unlike Jeremy. The way Jeremy’s body held himself scared Michael to taking a step back. But Jeremy grabbed his arm. Michael winced, almost dropping the bottle, pain shooting up him as Jeremy’s hand held him in tight grip.

“Michael? What’s wro-” but suddenly Jeremy’s face stopped. It was his face, but Jeremy wasn’t there. This face was confident, sneaky, and not anyone Michael had seen before.

“So, it was you. I had my suspicions, but best friend killing himself over a fight? A little cliche if you ask me.” The voice, it wasn’t Jeremy’s. Michael almost had tears coming out from the pain he was in.

“Y-you bastard.” Michael muttered.

“Imma cut you a deal. If you drop that bottle, I’ll give you what you want. Everything you wish for.” The voice said.

“W-wish?” Michael asked.

“Ah, Michael, Michael. Don’t think I didn’t notice. I may have had Jeremy blocking you, but I could see it. You love him.” Michael didn’t say anything, he needed to focus.

“I can give him to you.” Focus. Pull away, you need to save him-

“Michael.” Suddenly, everything was frozen. It was his voice. In that tone that Jeremy used when he talked about-

“Michael.” His face, so relaxed. So happy to be here. With him. The grip on his arm loosing. Another hand coming up to his face.

“Mikey, I…” That nickname, he hadn’t used it since they were kids! He didn’t know that he missed it so much!-

“I love you.” God. I was like everything Michael hoped for. Wanted. Dreamed.

“Jer…” Michael didn’t notice the many tears streaming down his face.

“Put the bottle down Michael… lets go get stoned in your basement!” He smiled, his grin… it was… off. It wasn’t as big. His eyes, almost too green and not enough blue. His hand on his cheek not having the slightest of shakiness.

This. Wasn’t Jeremy.

And it broke Michael’s heart in more ways than one.

“Mikey…?” It sounded so confused and worried…

Michael brought his hand to Jeremy’s. Held it, trying to memorize the feeling. It warmth. “I’m so sorry Jer-Bear… God, you almost lost me.”

“Michael?”

But before anyone knew it, Michael twisted the cap off took Jeremy by the neck and put the bottle to his lips. Michael stared forcefully into Jeremy’s eyes.

“Jeremy! If you can hear me!! Swallow it!!!” He felt Jeremy’s hands take his arm again. Squeezing it tightly as Michael let out a yell of pain.

“Jer!! C'mon!! I know you are in there! Snap out of it!!!!” Jeremy’s eyes for that slight second flickered blue as he heard Jeremy swallow, then going limp.

Taking the bottle from his lips. Both of them collapsing, Jeremy on top of Michael. Then, Jeremy shooting straight up, and like many other students letting off a scream. All Michael do was hold Jeremy close before the ambulance came to get him.

The couple of days that Jeremy was in the hospital, Michael didn’t want to see him. All the guilt. God, he almost let everyone get Squipped because of his silly little crush.

God, he didn’t deserve to live.

But his legs carried him to his room anyway. To see him. He wanted to hold that hand again. But he couldn’t. Jeremy, Squiped or not, had a better life without him. But the one day that Jeremy woke up, Michael couldn’t resist coming over.

“Dude, what happened?” Jeremy asked.

What happened indeed, Michael needed to skip that part. “Oh man, it was genius! They were communicating with each other - they were linked! Which means… when you consider the kind of high frequency sonic disturbance needed to wipe a system that powerful…”

“Michael. My head still hurts.” Oh. Maybe not that much detail.

“Right, ah… turns out we didn’t have to destroy every Squip. Just the one. And the rest… boom boom boom!” Michael said imitating explosions. Hoping to make Jeremy at least smile.

Jeremy didn’t, he looked at Michael with a confused look that made Michael question if he was remembering what happened.

“I don’t get it. After everything I did…” Michael’s hand immediately went to his arm to rub it softly. He could still feel each scar through his sweater. “You were still there for me. Why?”

Because I love you.

“I can’t take all the credit.” Michael forced himself to say. “Your dad can be shockingly persuasive.”

“My dad?”

Michael was glad to see Jeremy’s dad wearing pants. Having a serious discussion with his son until…

“… Who is this Christine person?”

Right. Christine.

The one, Jeremy, he…

Right.

“H-hey Jer? M-Mr. Heere? I g-gotta go.”

“What? Where?” Jeremy asked, surprised.

Michael took a deep breath, and gave a smile. “I’ll see you later Jer.” And walked out before anyone could stop him.

Michael was surprised on how easily the school could fix itself. How just a week later, it was like nothing ever happened. Sometimes Michael wished he could do that.

And he could, he had to. This is Jeremy’s first day back. Just be Michael Mell.

“Michael!” He turned to see him, Jeremy wearing his favorite sweater and shirt. It made Michael very happy inside.

“Jeremy! My man, how you feeling?” Michael asked. The way that Jeremy’s face lit up, Michael knew he must’ve been doing something right.

And he was.

They were friends again. And it was like nothing changed. Well, almost. Jeremy still liked to hangout with the cool kids. Which was fine, Jeremy was not on the bottom anymore. Michael was happy about that. But he couldn’t deny that he was much happier with the fact that Jeremy mostly just spent time with him. Like when they decided to play video games almost every day after school.

“And I think Brooke and Chole are thing? I don’t really know.” Jeremy did like to talk about the cool kids. Michael didn’t really mind… but he just didn’t know what to say about it.

“Then… um… go ask if they are dating? Or ask Jake and Rich? I don’t know what to tell you dude.” Michael said.

“I guess you are right. But, I don’t wanna be rude.” Jeremy being nervous was a welcoming sight for Michael. He was glad that he was back to normal.

“C'mon dude, they’re your friends. I’m sure they’ll understand.” Michael said putting a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder in comfort. Jeremy smiled his small smile that made Michael’s heart beat slightly faster.

“Hey, there having this celebration that Rich is finally getting out of the hospital. Wanna come?” Jeremy asked.

Michael pulled his arm back, and turned to pick up a controller. “I don’t know Jer, I not really friends with them.” He shrugged.

“Rich likes you. He… said that you helped him.” Jeremy said.

“Oh…” Michael remembered the memory coming back. “Yeah, it was the least I could do. I had a bottle on me and-”

“Why were you at the hospital?” Jeremy asked, he seemed nervous to ask. As if this was something he was meaning to ask before.

“I… was just…” Michael tried to find some excuse.

“Michael…” Jeremy said.

It was almost like when he said it when-

“Was what the Squip said true?” Michael froze. The controller going ridged in his hands.

“Y-you remember that?” He asked.

“Michael.” No, he couldn’t get distracted, he had to…

“J-jer, I was j-just there. I helped him out. E-end of story.”

“Mikey…” Michael felt himself freeze again.

“D-don’t use t-that name against me J-jer. D-don’t.” Michael said as he put the controller down with shaky hands. He then stood up from the bean bag.

“I’ll g-go get s-some food ok?”

“Michael, no.” Suddenly Jeremy stood up and grabbed his arm. It wasn’t tight, but Michael still let out a hiss mixed of the slight pain and surprise.

“Michael? What happened? What aren’t you telling me?!” Jeremy said.

“Jeremy, it’s not your problem. It’s just my stupid-” but before Michael could say more, Jeremy lifted the sleeve of his hoodie and-

“Oh god.” He only lifted it to his elbow. But you could clearly see the damage.

The scars from the fire and the scars from his pocket knife that he kept now in his room. Jeremy gently held his arm.

“Please tell me that this… is the worse of it.” Jeremy pleaded. God he was so innocent. Taking his left arm, no. That was the one that didn’t have…

Michael’s tears then leaked out. Man, was he that weak? To hurt himself just because his best friend called him a… a…

“You remember… they mentioned someone being in the house… after the…”

“Michael, you didn’t-”

Michael looked to the floor.

“Michael, tell me the Squip was lying! Y-you were locked in there! Y-you weren’t t-trying to…”

Michael swallowed.

“Oh god Michael.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What the hell do you have to sorry for!?” Jeremy looked into Michael’s eyes. Tears spilling out, if only Michael had just-

“God damn it, this is all my fault!” Jeremy said, looking to his arm.

“Jeremy, it was my-”

“Let me see the rest of them.”

Michael held a breath, but knew he couldn’t deny the request.

Michael took his arm away from Jeremy, to zip down his red hoodie to reveal only a black tank top. Taking off his hoodie.

Now Michael couldn’t deny his slightly muscled arms. But that didn’t matter, they were destroyed with the pale scars that now decorated his body. And the darker scars that more towards his wrist. He held them out to his best friend for 12 years. He looked to the ground, nor bearing with the look that Jeremy probably had on his face.

Michael felt Jeremy’s warm hands caress his right arm. He knew that he wouldn’t find what he was looking for. All that was left would be the bits of yellow of what pacman used to be.

He the warmth disappear but could feel Jeremy walk between his arms until Michael could see Jeremy’s shoes only a couple inches from his. He then felt a warm hand on his cheek. He brought his eyes to Jeremy’s face as Jeremy’s other hand grabbed his hand.

Michael still had tears streaming down his cheeks to his neck, but Jeremy didn’t seem to care.

“I’m sorry.” Jeremy whispered.

“It was my mistake Jer, I did this to myself.” Michael said quietly. Bringing his other hand to where Jeremy’s was. Holding it.

“But I called you a-”

“Don’t say it. Please.”

“…”

“But, I’m sorry.” Michael said.

“What could you even be sorry for?” Jeremy asked with a hallow chuckle.

“I almost… dropped the soda Jer. I almost caused the freaking apocalypse.” Michael took a deep breath. “Just because he was saying all those things.”

“Michael…”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I-I thought it was so easy-”

“Why would you ever think that?!” Michael gripped Jeremy’s hands slightly. “You calling me that, in the same voice that you use when you talk about…”

“About?”

“Christine.” Jeremy was silent. “Jeremy I couldn’t handle it, I would’ve done it. Believed him. Saying that I could have you. God… I’m so selfish. You even said that you…”

“Michael…”

“You said that you loved me.” Michael whispered. “I could’ve thrown everything away just because you said that. God Jer. I’m so pathetic.” He loosened his hold so he could pull his hand away.

“No! You’re not.” Jeremy said, gripping his hand even tighter. “I almost just let him take over me. Because he made you so happy…”

“No… it was never him. The moment I realize led it was when he smiled. It wasn’t you. And… I just couldn’t live with it.” Michael said, looking into Jeremy’s blue, so blue eyes. “I couldn’t live without you.”

Jeremy didn’t say anything as he stared back at him. But before Michael could say anything else. Jeremy pushes likely to his toes to reach his lips.

Michael was surprised, but closed his eyes to enjoy the sweet moment.

But a moment became more as Jeremy moved his hands to his neck and opened his mouth slightly. Michael bringing his arms around Jeremy’s back, bringing him closer.

It was everything Michael dreamed of and more, he didn’t want to pull away just in case this was some cheap prank. It didn’t matter that his big glasses were pinching to his face, but that Jeremy was sucking on his bottom lip, letting out tiny moans, and playing with Michael’s hair.

But soon enough, Jeremy pulled away. Michael didn’t know how out-of-breath he was until it ended. Almost gasping for air. But it looked like Jeremy felt the same way.

“Michael… Mikey…” Jeremy chuckled. “I thought you hated that nickname.”

“No, it was just that other kids…”

“Hey. I get it.” He smiled, “I can’t live without you either. I’m sorry it took me forever to realize that.”

“Well, it looks like you’ll have forever to make it up to me.” Michael said, slightly pulling Jeremy closer.

“That I do.” And smashed there lips together again.

Michael wasn’t happy with himself, and it would take a long time for him to be. He cared about what people thought. But who cares? As long as Jeremy was there. Why the hell did it matter?

The Happiest of Accidents (Jared Kleinman x Reader SMUT)

More smut (shocking) so I’m combining 4 and 8 on my queue cause 4 was just Fluffy smut? And 8 actually had a plot.

 Requests by: anon Enjoy! 


You know. This was never supposed to happen. You were never supposed to end up naked in someone else’s bed. Especially not if that someone was Jared Kleinman. But things don’t always go how their supposed to, especially not if they’re things happening to you. 


 You didn’t want to do this, dressing up for some stupid cruise dinner, all because your dad had to go for work. He said all you guys had to do was show face, than you could leave and never step foot on a cruise ship again, he lied. You were used to you dad lying by now but it didn’t change the fact that you really hated everything about this night. 

 You were wearing a dress and heels on a cruise ship, that was rocking way too much for your liking. You had to plaster on a fake smile for every single of of your dads colleagues until they stopped greeting you. You had to shake hands and make small talk about the weather or stocks. 

You were the only teenager here who wasn’t dressed like a preppy private school kid, you weren’t wearing pearls or the color salmon, you stuck out like a sore thumb. 

When your family went to sit at their assigned table, number 15. You went to the deck to watch the sunset against the ocean’s horizon. It was a beautiful sight, the sun dipping low onto the waters far edge, creating an ombré of reds and purples and every thing in between. You watched as the colors changed and the sun sank, enjoying the alone time. Until…. “Hey you do realize the Party is inside right?” A voice broke through the white noise of water lapping against the boat’s sides.

 "Really? Oh wow. I hadn’t even noticed. What a pity that I’m not inside, pretending like I give a shit and smiling at every old business guy who claims to know my father,“ you hissed wanting to be left alone. 

 Obviously this jerk-off didn’t notice or care, "What are you doing out here anyway, it’s just a sunset over a giant fish toilet. Or are you some kind of romantic who finds this shit fascinating?" 

 "I’ll have you know sunsets are beautiful, look at all of the colors and the way they melt into each other defying color theory. Look the yellow and blue are definitely touching, but they don’t make green! It’s amazing!" 

 "It’s not amazing! Are you stupid it’s not color theory it’s light theory, or whatever. Those aren’t paints they’re light waves so they won’t react the same. God your dad might be rich but he certainly isn’t sending you to a good school,” he laughed. 

 "I didn’t want to go to a good school, and I don’t care about whatever theory. I just wanted to watch the sunset,“ you growled back. Your father planned on having you swap schools when he got his raise and you refused, you’re too normal for private schooling. 

 He waited a moment and than started talking again, "Okay well than I guess we can watch the sunset,” he said, taking a seat on the bench next to you. You rolled you eyes but he didn’t say another word so you decided to let him stay. He was so quiet and sat so still that your forgot he was there, losing yourself in the setting sun. 

 He on the other hand couldn’t forget about you, he never could. When your father was promoted two years ago, you both found yourselves at a dinner party in celebration. You sat on opposite sides of the ballroom floor, in the large hotel the company rented. You didn’t see him, but he sure as hell had seen you, and once his eyes found your face, they rarely left it. 

There was just something about the way you held yourself, the way you kept you back straight and you head held high. It was strong and proud, but not rude or arrogant, you were there for you father but that didn’t mean you were going to be a brat for being forced to come. 

There was also something about the look on your face, the way your smile was welcoming but your eyes screamed that you wanted to leave. He wanted tried to look away and ignore your presence, but it was like you were the northern end of a magnet and his eyes were the south side.

 He spent the whole night working up the guts to talk to you, and once he did… you had left. After that night he was infatuated by you, and it felt like a blessing when he learned there was a Holiday Galla his family would be attending. 

There was a secret Santa chosen before hand and he had gotten your name. All of the kids and teens were given a room with a dance floor and junk food to hang out in, and at 11:00 would be the secret Santa. He was so excited to give your gift, until he realized you wouldn’t know who it was from.

 At 11 he watched you open the jewelry box and take out the bracelet, it was a bow to match the arrow necklace you always wore 

 He watched your eye light up as you had a friend help you put it on your wrist, they matched beautifully because he had to specially made for you, not that you would ever know. But the smile on your face made it worth the expense. 

As he sat there next to you, he could feel the anxiety running through his veins. He was so nervous that you’d call him a freak and start calling him out on stalking your Instagram and Facebook. He didn’t want to seem nervous so instead he sat as still as possible, he could feel you staring at him, and he could feel the swear accumulating on his palms. He slowly turned his head to look at you, expecting you to be ready to explode. 

But when his gaze landed on you, you were a million worlds away, lost in the sunset. The way the golden light made your skin look was amazing, the look in your eyes was perfect. You were lost in the setting sun and he was lost in you. “What the fuck are you staring at?"  The smile on your face had died, a grimace taking its place,

 "I um, I was, you just looked so, um, I’m sorry,” the words spilled out of his mouth lacking grace and delicacy.

 "I looked so what, ugly, horrific?“ You barked at him, your eyes misting.

 "You looked, beautiful. Like you were the only witness to the most amazing sight one human has ever laid eyes on,” you could see the awe on his face, this boy really meant what he said. 

 "Oh, well. Erm thank you, you’re not to bad yourself,“ you mumbled, blush creeping over your cheeks. 

 "Oh well umm,” he paused for a little too long, “I like your brac- necklace. I really like your necklace,” he stumbled. 

 "Oh thank you, I never got the chance to thank you for this bracelet, I absolutely love it by the way,“ your smile blew him away.

 "Oh you’re, you’re welcome!” He squeaked, just as he was about to ask how you knew he bought it when his phone rang. “No Ev I can’t join the party tonight, huh no I’m at that cruise dinner, I’ll play next time, goodbye Evan,” he sighed and tucked his phone away. 

 "You missin the big summer party?“

 "Huh, oh god no. Do I look like the kid who goes to actual parties. My friends and I. We have a-” his volume dropped drastically, “we have a game night we just peruse Steam and play some video games, it’s kinda lame,” he looked at his feet, embarrassed.

 "What kinda video games?“ 

 "Oh um Overwatch, GTA, Rocket League, that kinda stuff,” he mumbled. 

 "I bet I could beat you at all of those,“ you boasted, you didn’t know him very well be he peaked your interest. 

 "Oh you’re on! If you want we can skip the party after the boat docks and go to my house, and play video games, order take out?” He suddenly seemed happy again. 

 "I’ll take you up on that… IF you buy me take out!“ 

 "Of course, m'lady. I’m the man here!” He bragged. 

 "My dick is probably bigger than yours!“ "Oh well, we an check when we get to my house as well. If you’d like,” he said with a wink


  You told your mom you were going to your friends house, while Jared told his parents he felt sick and needed to go. You both met at his car, he played Starbomb on the way to his house, not bad music. Just different. 

His house was fucking huge, it had giant stone pillars at the entrance of the drive way and lights leading up to the front door. He parked in the giant four car garage and you went inside. The kitchen was big enough to be in a restaurant, the living room had a huge TV with surround sound and a shit load of DVDs. The hallways were covered in art, but not a single family photo, and the dining room was suited for a kingdom. You were in awe, Jared looked uninterested, he’d walked these halls his whole life, and to be honest he found the size of the house unnecessary and annoying. 

He lead you up to his room with a bottle of soda and cups in his hands. His room was small compared to the rest of the house, a futon, a desk with a computer, a large bookshelf, a TV with many gaming consoles around it and some game disks, and a closet. 

 "Take of your jacket and shoes, make yourself at home,“ he said as he took a seat at his desk to remove his dress shoes. You took off your heels and put them with the rest of the shoes by his bedroom door, and you cast his suit jacket you borrowed on to the back of his desk chair. You sat on the futon that was currently a bed, while he turned on the TV and picked a game. 

 "How about we play a friendly game of Mario Kart?" 

 And that’s how it began, what started as a calm game of Mario Kart turned into a very competitive game of Mario Kart.

 What started as sitting a foot apart on a futon became sitting with your sides pressed against the others, in order to shove the other and slide into first. 

What started as a hand on a thigh to distract the boy next to you, became a hand-job through his suit pants. 

What started as a crush and a bracelet became, so. Much. More. He leaned back, giving you the full area of his package. You rubbed slower, moving your body up level with his, and began kissing him. His lips were soft against yours, you moved in unison, said they had met a million times before. His hands slid up your legs, trying to get under the dress you were wearing, but his hands couldn’t get back your hip bones. 

 "What the actual fuck is going on with your clothing?” He asked leaning away from you. 

 "It’s not stretchy. It has a zipper on the back,“ you held back a laugh. 

 "Fuck. This was supposed to be romantic, like I’d slowly take off your dress to reveal your sexy lingerie, than you’d rip open my shirt, buttons flying off sexily, ya know?” He said, a bit too seriously. 

 "Well Jared, my dress won’t come off like that, I’m not wearing sexy lingerie, and you’re shirt won’t be fervently ripped from your muscles,“ you rolled you eyes at his fantasy.

 "Oh but I bet you’d like to see my six pack, if you can find it under all of my rolls,” he boasted, faking confidence. 

 "I like your rolls just fine, I have ones of my own. Together we’re a matching set!“ You tried to make him less uncomfortable in the room with you. He smile and kissed you again, his lips dipping down to your neck, one of his hands stroking your thigh. You pushed him onto his back, straddled his hips and pretended to rip open his shirt.

 "Ha you wish Kleinman, I have other ideas,” you kissed his neck and unbuttoned a single button, you slowly made your way down opening his shirt slowly, leaving hickys in your wake. He watched you do this, trying not to moan too loudly, god he wanted you so bad. You finished with his shirt and unbuttons his dress pants, you sat up and pulled them down his legs. You crawled back up and kissed him passionately, gently removing the shirt from his shoulders and pulling it off as you got off the bed. 

 He had been working on unzipping your dress the whole time and it was low on your back. You reached behind and pulled the zipper all the way down. You pulled it from your shoulders and let it cascade to the wood floor. You attempted to saunter out of the ring it had made but it was to no avail, your foot caught on the bundled fabric and you fell forward, Jared sitting up fast enough to catch you. 

 "Looks like you’re just falling all over me (y/n),“ he whispered pulling you on to him and kissing your neck. His hands finally getting to run down your bare sides. "Also I find your nude brassiere to be the sexiest lingerie,” his hands were all over you, you threw your leg over him and began grinding against his hard shaft. 

His fingers went to woke on your bra clasps, once he had successfully opened them he slid it down your arms and threw its across the room. 

 "Is the drama really necessary?“ You wanted to be able to find that one day. 

"Of fucking course it is (y/n). If I’m going to lose my virginity tonight that it’s going to be dramatic as fuck!” He looked at you appalled, because you had THE NERVE to ask him not to chuck your underwear. 

You were about to yell back when the sensation of his mouth flicking against your nipple cut you off. He took your other breast in his hand and rubbed your other nip with his thumb. He bit down softly on one and you let out a moan, his hips bucked in response. You threw your head back in pleasure, you’d never felt something so good. 

 "Oh god. Jared. Oh fuck,“ you moaned. He let go of your breast and hooked his thumbs on your panties, you shoved him on to the futon and began rubbing your wet cunt over his very excited member threw to layers of underwear. He couldn’t take anymore of your teasing, he pushed you off and ripped your panties down your legs. He spread your thighs and inserted two fingers inside of you, his thumb rubbing your clit roughly, your lower half was quaking at the sudden contact. Moans came out of your mouth like they were flowing from a waterfall. He curled them, hitting your G-Spot just right. 

 "I-Uhhh I thought your were a vigin,” you stated between moans. “I’m a visual learner sweetheart, and I’ve been taking visual lessons from Pornhub since I was 12,” he replied taking his fingers from your core and getting up. He strode to his computer desk opened a drawer and returned to you holding an aluminum package. You snatched it from his hands and read it, "Gotta Catch em’ all" was printed on it with a pokéball. You giggled and he ripped it open, pinching the tip and rolling it down his considerable length. 

“(Y/n) I’ve liked you for so long, and I really hope you’re okay with all of this,” “God Jared please just fuck me, I want you so bad. All of you. Even the rolls,” you smiled at him. He lined himself up and slid into you, moaning as he did so. He felt so good inside of you, he pulled out and thrusted back in slowly, his hips developed a rhythm and yours learned to match, it was slow but it felt so right. His shaft filling you up and hitting you just in the right spot. 

He noticed your right hand touching your clit and pulled it off, sucking your fingers and rubbing you instead. You pulled him down, kissing him as your both built up orgasms, he began speeding up, roughly grabbing your boob, the sensation of him hitting your g-spot, rubbing your clit, and playing with your breast was enough to throw you over the edge. Your walls tightened around him and you came, hard. Moaning his name as it washed over you, his thrusts became sloppier. 

 "Oh god (y/n) you’re so fucking tight. Oh you feel so good. Mmmm fucking heaven,“ he moaned as his orgasm built up. "OH GOD Ummmhhhhhh, ooohhhh my god you’re uhhh amazing, oh yes yes yessss,” he came, his orgasm better than ever, you felt just right against him. He pulled out and kissed you, than he cleaned himself up quickly. He pulled you up to his pillows and held you in his arms. You fell together, a mass of tangled limbs, in his small bed.


  When you woke up two hours later and it was to yelling. 

 "-MY BOSSES DAUGHTER, YOU SKIP A PARTY TO HAVE SEX WITH MY BOSSES DAUGHTER. I HOPE IT WAS FUCKING GOOD CAUSE IF HE FINDS OUT ABOUT THIS YOU'L BE GROUNDED FOR SO LONG YOU WON’T SEE ANOTHER NAKED WOMAN AGAIN!“ Jared’s dad screamed, a vein popping out of his forehead, the skin around it bright red. He stomped out of the room, slamming door, and leaving Jared and you alone.

 "I’m sorry,” you muttered, afraid this was your fault. 

 "Ha I’m not, your dad won’t find out and even if he does you were worth it,“ he smiled wrapping his arms around you. You cuddled together all night, happy to be together. Maybe things weren’t supposed to happen like this, but they went better this way. 

 "Oh I never did ask, how’d you know I got you that bracelet?”


 Requests are closed.

Your parents let me in and I-shit! (Peter Parker x Reader)

Request: Could you write one where Peter accidentally walks on the reader changing? Like he gets all flustered and begins to stutter because the reader is only in her underwear. And it’s all awkward until the reader comes up with suggestions and seduces Peter, and boy he gets even more flustered 😂 sorry if this doesn’t make sense :(:


After finally finishing your exams, your best friend Peter had offered to take you to the movies to celebrate. He had offered to pick you up at 8pm, saying that Tony Stark would lend him a car. Deciding it was time to get ready -it was 7pm, you got up from bed and did your make up. You were in front of your wardrobe, just in your underwear, deciding what to wear. You were dancing to some music you had on, looking through your closet.
‘Hey! I’m early for once! Your parents let me in and I-shit!’ a voice said. You jumped at the sound, and turning around, you saw Peter standing in your doorway, his face completely red and his eyes looking at a point in the wall behind you. You hadn’t heard him arrive due to the music, and you didn’t really understand why he was so flustered until you realized you were only in your underwear. You had seen him in his underwear multiple times when he came to your window the nights he had been extremely beaten up and needed healing, but he hadn’t seen you. Sure, maybe when you two were young, but that had been years ago.
You didn’t really care about the fact that he had seen you -you two went to the swimming pool together every summer, and you always wore bikinis; but Peter was extremely innocent, and he was ashamed to have caught you in that moment.
‘Pete, you have seen me wearing a bikini before’ you said before turning again to keep looking for something to wear.
‘Yeah, but that’s different’ he said, still not looking at you.
‘How is that so? And please, will you come in and close the door? I don’t really need my parents catching us in this situation’ you said, smirking at him.
‘I-I don’t know. I am invading your privacy. I can wait in the living room if you want-you know what, I’ll do that. Come out when you are ready’ he said, turning around, his cheeks still red.
‘Pete! Come on, don’t be stupid. Sit here’ you said, pointing to the bed. ‘Why are you so flustered anyway?’ you asked, a smirk still on your face. He softly closed the door and looked back at you, his cheeks even more red than before. You found it funny, and taking the chance, you decided to tease him a little, since you had had a crush on him for months. ‘Am I really that ugly?’ you said, trying to sound sad. 
‘No! It’s not that! You are-you are extremely sexy! I mean, beautiful! Extremely beautiful! Oh my God, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said that’ he was very nervous, trying not to look at you walking up to him. You saw him swallowing, nervous, and looking down, you could see he was getting excited. You tried to stiff a laugh, and you walked even closer to him, until there was almost no space between you.
‘You know, Peter, for being so intelligent, sometimes you look completely stupid. I mean, you go into your best friend’s room, who is wearing only her underwear, she lets you in, jokes a little, and you still don’t get it, don’t you?’ you asked.
‘W-what?’ he stammered. He finally looked at you, his eyes locking with yours.
‘Be thankful I love you’ you said laughing before kissing him. You had waited to do that for so long, and when he put his hands on your bare waist, you swore you could hear him groan, making you smirk.
‘I love you too, you know. I had never thought you would want me in the same way I wanted you’ he whispered, his forehead against yours. He was smiling, and that made you smile as well.
‘Well, you have been oblivious to the fact that I’ve been flirting with you for months, so it doesn’t surprise me’ you said, laughing a little. ‘And now, will you let go of my waist and let me get dressed?’
‘Oh, yeah, I-I’m sorry’ he said, stammering again. With a small laugh, you gave him a quick kiss and turned around to finally choose what to wear, his eyes not leaving your body.

Handy Dandy. [Connor Murphy Oneshot].

Title: Handy Dandy.
Pairing: Implied! - Connor Murphy x Reader.
Words: 1,593.
Fandom/Musical: Dear Evan Hansen.
Rating: T. (Language).


“Are you fucking kidding me?” Connor whispered aggressively, more to himself than to you. Though the words came out roughly you knew that they didn’t actually hold any hostility. Tucking back a piece of his hair behind his ear which simultaneously curled around his fingers as he did so, Connor found himself slightly bent over to analyze the extensive amount of nail polishes you actually owned. Funny enough though, he had only seen to wear maybe two of the colors and if he took his time, he could find the bottles because they’d had a lot less polish inside. Picking up a shade of yellow, that was honestly more leaning towards an ugly construction yellow and burned his eyes, he looked back at you.

Connor mumbled, “Really, (Name)? Dehydrated piss color?”

You held your hands up in defense and walked towards him with a gentle, “Sometimes I need the happy colors.”

Connor sat the bottle back where he picked it up from and laughed bitterly, “Happy color? Piss is not a happy color. A happy color is like… Like…” He scanned the polishes before picking up what he’d describe as a ‘cotton candy’ pink. “This.”

Snapping the bottle out of his hand, you chuckled and said, “I don’t think I’ve never worn this color before.” You raised your eyebrows, “Wanna try?” Waving the bottle in front of his face, he pushed your hand back with a small scowl before it slowly turned into a smile.

 “Fuck off.” He bent forward a bit, looking for a specific color. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him and the way that he moved. It was interesting, to say the least. Connor pushed people away, both figuratively and literally in instances where he feels that physically pushing someone is the best for his own safety. Even his own movements, as slightly graceful as they appeared, also pushed people away. He moved roughly but with a sense of hesitance behind every move of his muscles. A warning that getting too close would end terribly for both parties.

 Taking a deep breath in, Connor straightened up and picked up a small bottle of nail polish off of your dresser, the sound drawing you back to reality. “Why are there like twenty shades of black?” He asked you, tilting the bottle to the side so he could read what funky name the polish had, “I thought black was black, you know? What the fuck is…” He squinted at the small letters, “Envious Fury?”

Laughing, you plucked the bottle out of his hand and informed him gently, “Obviously, it’s the color of jealousy and anger, can’t you read?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that those emotions included goddamn glitter.” He took the bottle back out of your hands, letting his fingers linger upon yours for a moment too long before quickly drawing them back in. A technique he had learned to keep people away, to make them assume that he was really unobtainable emotionally.

 It wasn’t as if the two of you were friends and it sure as hell wasn’t as if Connor could actually spill his secrets to you, things that people assumed about him, but weren’t really true. You were just a convenience to him, or so he tried to convince himself constantly. A convenience friend, he would say. Not really friends all the time but friends when he got into fights with his parents and had nowhere else to go, or a friend when you were lost and couldn’t find your way out.

 Visits were becoming much more frequent, or so you noticed. Connor was sneaking over to your house more often, later in the evening. He’d even found a way into your bedroom without going through the front door and alerting your parents that you had someone over, and when first executed, it was painful to say that he ended up with a few rose thorns on his fingertips, palms and thighs from the rose bushes in the front of your parents yard.

He’d come over, sneak in, and the two of you would sit there. Nothing had to be said, and if you asked him what was wrong, more often than not, Connor would find himself building up the security wall around his personality and mind so you couldn’t pry your way inside. It wasn’t a matter of wanting to talk about anything with Connor, it was just a sense of some sort of stability. Someone who wouldn’t yell at him for doing bad, someone who wouldn’t get mad at him for not wanting to talk, and someone who could actually maybe, in one way or another, understand what he was going through even if it wasn’t spoken out-loud.

 Catching yourself staring at him once again, you plucked the bottle of black nail polish off your dresser, the one that Connor usually went after and sat down on your bed in an eager attempt to push back any sort of thoughts of an actual friendship. This happened every couple of weeks, or whenever the nail polish would fade from his nails. He quite liked the way it looked, and with his long fingers, you had to admit that he pulled off polish a lot better than most of the people you knew. “I want this one.” He said, holding up the glittering black nail polish.

 “Are you su-”

 “If I want to be a sparkling fucker, why not?” He shrugged his slender shoulders, sitting down on the bed across from you. The meager fact that your bed was only a twin size meant that there wasn’t much space between the two of you. Crossing your legs and laughing at his previous statement, Connor shimmed out of his usual grey jacket to reveal a darker grey t-shirt under that clung slightly to his slim frame. He handed you the bottle and held out his right hand without a word. Managing to balance the bottle on a library book you forgot to return god knows how many years ago, you cupped his fingers and began brushing the dark polish on.

 There was silence between the two of you as you brushed gentle onto his thumb and then pointer finger. Mid-way through his middle finger, he began speaking to you. The tone was the same, but the words were somewhat of a surprise and when you gazed up at his face, you found his eyes fixated on your expression rather than on the nail polish brush like they usually were, “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you.” 

Connor swallowed softly, brushing back a few stray hairs on his forehead with his free hand, “I know, we’ve been doing this for like…” He thought, trying to vaguely guess, “I don’t know, three, four months now and you don’t have to do it but you do anyway.” He laughed to himself, “Not everyone would help a guy who threw a goddamn printer at a teacher when he was in the 2nd grade because he was having a fucking hissy fit.”

 “Being line leader was really important back then.” You dipped the brush back into the bottle, “I’d have been pissed too, having been denied the pleasure.”

 “I didn’t really want to be,” He explained, “It was just… “ Connor stopped talking for a moment and thought over his words. Why was he telling you this? “Everyone else had been line leader that year and I guess I felt… Left out. Like, how shitty sad is that? Such a sob fest.” He joked, but you could tell that it was running much deeper than that by how his voiced cracked near the end. 

You couldn’t find any words inside of your mind that would be a good reply to Connor actually telling you something personal, and so, you rested the brush back inside of the bottle and let go of his right hand, gesturing that you were ready for his left. He stared down at his fingers for a moment, admiring the luminescence that the glitter gave the black. It was like the stars, coating the dark sky with what one could see as hope. Hope, that out there, there’s someone or something that understands.

 “Whatever,” He clenched his jaw and lifted his left hand for you, “I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for… Not seeing me as a fuck up like everyone else does. For not saying, ‘there goes that psycho kid, Connor Murphy’ in the halls at school.”

 “They don’t see what I see.” You said to him, furrowing your eyebrows as you began painting his left hand. “They don’t see…” You couldn’t think of what to say, though there were indeed a million ideas running wild inside of your head. With your mouth agape, you had hope that perhaps words would just start flowing out instead of you having to force yourself to speak. “They don’t see this.” You gestured between the two of you with your free hand. “They don’t see you like this, they don’t see you as a human who you know, maybe has feelings like the rest of us do… Maybe, it’s just beyond their reach, maybe they refuse to see because then that would make you just like the rest of them and maybe they can’t handle that sort of truth.”

 Connor sat quietly in front of you for a few seconds, soaking up your words and the way that they spilled from your mouth. Almost as if you… You genuinely cared about what people thought about him.

 “Fuck, that’s some deep shit, (Name).”


holy bullpoop i hope that was good and i really hope that you guys like it! Reblogs and likes are appreciated! Lemme know what you think! -Em

Catch Me (Day 6)

Summary: In which a bet leads Bucky to have to catch you every day for a week, no matter what.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2,562

Thank you to @avengerstories for editing this. You’re an absolute queen.

Day 5

Originally posted by nadinpu

“Hey Y/N,” Steve greets after knocking softly on your door. He’s wearing a pair of black basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. It’s a stark difference from the uniform he wears during missions. “I’m going on a hike to -”

“Yes.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yes? You want to come?”

“That I do, Cap.”

He laughs. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting you to say yes.”

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| Jumble | Peter Parker

this is literally just a crack fic, fair warning

*Soulmate Au - the first words your soulmate speaks to you on your body

[permanent + peter parker tag] : @osterfield-haz


You hated this city.

Quite so, you thought as you ducked for cover underneath the table, just in time for the door to explode open.

“Always something,” you muttered angrily, ignoring the screams of distress as you rubbed the irritated skin around a wound on your calf. “Always something happening in this place.”

From that whole spectacle with the Avengers down the road quite a bit ago, to that psychopath lizard on the news, to aliens destroying New York City a few blocks down. At the moment Midtown High was now being held hostage by some furious mutant - furious of what you didn’t know, you had tuned out his villainous monologue - who was going around exploding doors and shoving people against the walls, demanding to know where Spiderman was or he’d blow up the entire building.

You had no idea what he was going on about - you could barely even hear your own thoughts over the pathetic crying of that cheerleader in the corner - and just hoped that the whole fiasco would be over before something major happened. Why would Spiderboy or Spiderman or whatever be here anyway? 

You suppose you didn’t have to think much longer when the spider himself, tight spandex and all, swung in through the window, kicking the villain into the hallway. 

Another scream from the cheerleader.

“God help me,” You groaned, checking your foot to see if you sprained it as your classmates panicked, some calling 911, others having a breakdown. You swore you saw one kid piss himself. Literally.

The mutant - glowing eyes, ugly teeth - burst through the wall back into the classroom, crashing into desks, concrete flying everywhere. Spiderman followed closely after, dodging attacks, dancing around the small space with fluid motions like he was made to. 

While that was happening, your classmates had bravely started running away through the now obvious hole in the wall (you forgot to mention, the exploded door had caved in earlier), all herding out like a pack of wild animals. You were about to follow their example and abscond the hell out of this situation, when a shout echoed behind you. 

You shouldn’t have looked.

You really shouldn’t have. You should have legged it out. 

But you did, and when you turned, you saw the mutant on-top of the friendly neighbourhood vigilante, mouth opened, teeth growing into long, sharp points to promptly bite his head off.

Three things happened at once.

First, your oh so heroic self screamed loudly, stepped back, and tripped on a piece of stray shrapnel.

Secondly, the noise distracted the mutant, giving the other mutant - the spider one you were rooting for to be exact - an opportunity to get loose and switch the position.

Thirdly, Man Spider (what was his name again-?) webbed his opponent’s hands to the floor, and turned his head in your direction, voice a weird mixture of tones into an accent you didn’t recognize, but for some reason felt familiar with. 

“Cow! Throw the cow! Beside you!”

You had a moment of alarmed confusion, before it clicked and the adrenaline rushed in. You reached for the laptop with the cow-printed cover on the floor next to you, vaguely distracted by the sudden burning on your wrist where your mark was - looks like your soulmate was an egotistical crime fighting spider, great - and threw it with as much force as you could muster.

Spiderman slew a web, swinging the object out of the air and catching it, just in time for Mr. Sharp Teeth to break out of his bonds. He pounced and Spiderman turned swiftly, lifting the laptop up and using the momentum to smack it right into his head with a horrifying thump.

Everything was still for a moment, and then the mutant crumpled to the floor. 

Spiderman relaxed but if anything you only freaked out. Just how strong was he?!

“Thank god,” Spiderman breathed, his voice still itching at a memory in the back of your mind. You took a noticeable step away from him and he didn’t have to read your expression to know that you weren’t amused. “Oh! Hi, yes, are you okay - you’re bleeding, that’s, uh, that’s bad.”

When you didn’t respond he followed your incredulous gaze to the criminal at his feet. You could hear the police sirens in the distance.

“Oh him? Don’t worry, he’s just unconscious-” He waved the laptop - the dented laptop, jesus christ- “- He’ll be fine. Probably. I think.”

When you still only stared blankly, he flexed his fingers, shifting nervously like he hadn’t just knocked a man unconscious. “Right, so the police should be here soon so you’ll be returned to your family-” The laptop broke in his hands. “-Shoot uh, woops-”

Your first thought was that your soulmate was an idiot. 

Your second thought was that you might as well get this over with.

“Look you’re nice and all,” You interrupted. “But you’re not Peter Parker, and he kind of already owns my heart at the moment.” 

There was silence.

The sirens grew louder, signalling that the fuzz would be upon the scene soon.

Then laughter rang throughout the room.

It was hysterical, wrung with disbelief as the masked hero doubled over on himself, holding his stomach.

You raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but normally someone wouldn’t laugh after getting rejected by their soulmate. Do you need help or…?”

Spiderman giggled some more then took in a deep, muffled breath. You blinked and he was ripping the mask off, tufts of brown hair sticking to his forehe-

You have got to be kidding me.

Peter was still laughing, to the point where tears were wetting his cheeks. 

“Do you know what you did to me?” He asked, dropping the fake accent he had been using, and you suddenly knew exactly why it had been bothering you, why it sounded familiar. It was the same voice of the guy that you’d been crushing on for three years. The voice of the guy who had no idea of your existence. The voice of the guy you had just unknowingly confessed to, discovered was a superhero, and also your soulmate, all in the same day. 

What a time to be alive.

His hand threaded into his hair, clutching at the strands tightly. “Do you know what it was like seeing those words every day and being damn confused out of my mind?!”

Bright hazel eyes met yours, a cut on his lip. “’Not Peter Parker?’ You had me questioning my entire existence for years!”

Your mouth opened then shut. Multiple emotions flooded through you like a storm, but only one really stuck.

You?” You repeated, your wrist itching, burning. You stomped up to him, ignoring the body on the floor and stabbing your finger into his chest. “What about me? A cow? Throw you a cow? Was that the best you could come up with?! I’ve been up sleepless nights wondering what kind of situation would allow me to be in that position!”

“Hey, if you didn’t notice, I was kinda occupied!” He retorted, stepping even closer and throwing his hands up in the air. 

“I’ve had that ridiculousness on my skin in all caps!”

“You made me think there was another me!”

“Even my mom made fun of it!”

He snorted, still a little delirious, but allowed you to grab onto his collar and drag him down to your lips angrily.

He broke away first, hands holding your face, relief and amusement and exhaustion swimming in his eyes. “Name?”

“Y/N,” You muttered, frustration still speckled in your tone, fingers digging into his suit-clad chest as you yanked him back to your mouth again. “And you better remember it.”

[MasterList]

Family portraits

Batfamweek 2017, day #1: family.

Read on AO3


It starts with a casual comment, one that shouldn’t bother him so much. And it doesn’t. Not right away.

“You don’t have any photo on your desk”, the new girl says. She started working at WE two weeks ago and Tim thinks her name is Kathy, or July, or something like that. He’ll pick it up eventually. Now he just blinks up at her from behind the pile of reports he’s working on.

“Sorry?”

She bits her bottom lip, now looking embarrassed at her own straightforwardness, and vaguely gestures at his desk again.

“No photos”, she repeats. “People usually have photos on their desk. Family. Girlfriends or boyfriends. You know?”

Family, girlfriends, boyfriends. Yes, Tim knows.

“Well”, he smiles politely. “I’m just trying not to look like I’m fifty and live only for my work, to the point to spend all my time in my office and need photographic reminders of what my family looks like.”

Kathy or July or something like that frowns at him.

“Beside, my family is really ugly”, Tim continues, going for less subtle sarcasm, but the joke doesn’t really comes out his mouth as a joke, and KathyJulySomethingLikeThat looks more confused than before.

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Dramione Fanfiction Recs

i read a lot of fanfics, and when i mean a lot, its exactly what you guys are reading here, a lot means a lot. if you have any suggestions or have any favs, help me out by sending me the link so we can share Dramione all over tumblr. (don’t really care what the ratings are) sharing the favs from different writers. 

Cassie’s Birth -  The story of Cassiopeia Jean Malfoy’s birth.

Cassiopeia -  Draco is patrolling the castle one night when he meets a very special girl from the future. Set during OOTP. Dramione future pairing, though Hermione does not make an appearance in the story.

The Day Draco Malfoy Has A Toothache -  She turns to him and her eyes narrows, “Malfoy, did you clean your teeth?”

Future Adventures -  M - During a joint Potions/Charms lesson, Draco is accidentally given an overdose of a potion that will allow him to experience time in the future. During his time in the future he sees plenty of unexpected things, but will he like how his life is going to turn out? 

A Reunion To Remember -  After twelve years of not seeing each other the whole Granger family is having a reunion. Little do they know Hermione is not the same ugly bookworm from twelve years ago. Hermione is married and has a daughter, how will the family react.

Needing Him - M -  He only participated hook ups, he didn’t call girls back and he definitely didn’t see girls twice if he could help it. But his question throws her off guard. Will they see each other again and reveal their feelings?

Formal Introductions -  So it’s the formidable Granger family reunion.

Voicemails -  Draco doesn’t know what a phone is, neither does he know what a voicemail is either and he’s trying to apologise with her through Potter’s rectangle object.

Dwaco -  Draco does not tend to little ones but has somehow been roped into getting up extra early, drinking from a Princess mug, wearing a Weasley jumper, and babysitting his messy cousin, Teddy Lupin. How on earth did that happen? Inspired by the artwork “Draco meets Teddy” by CaptBexx.

Animal Instincts - M -  Five years after Hogwarts, Hermione and Draco are thrown together after a certain ‘Malfoy trait’ kicks in and Draco needs Hermione’s help.

17 Years Later -  It’s 17 years after the war and time for the new 1st years to board the Hogwarts Train. What has become of the Gryffindor Golden Girl? Ron Weasley finds out the hard way.

A Long Waited Engagement -  The air was blistering cold. She sat on the frost covered bench, playing with the ring around her index finger. She looked uneasily as the train pulled in and a man stepped off. And I could only watch their love blossom again.

A Dish Best Served Cold - M -  Somebody is out to get Hermione. Draco gets caught in the middle, and doesn’t mind at all!

A Reunion To Remember -  It’s been eight years since they’ve seen each other and a reunion in Hogwarts finally gives them a chance to come together again and catch up with each other’s lives. However, a shocking revelation makes the event a reunion to remember.

Brotherly Love -  Hermione has a twin brother. He’s in Hogwarts, and he’s drop dead gorgeous.

Best Laid Plans - M -  Draco has come up with a plan to make Hermione HIS…and look perfectly innocent at the same time…of course, he never once thought that his plan might backfire quite hilariously…

Addicted To Mints -  Draco Malfoy is an addict. A mint addict…

A Wonderful Caricature Of Intimacy -  Draco loves his son more than anything in the world. So, when his ex-wife plans to take his son away, Draco asks the most unlikely person for help. Hermione must decide whether changing her entire life is worth helping the man she hates unconditionally.

A Union Most Difficult - M -  Veela!Draco When Draco turns 18 and realises that his mate is someone in the castle, what does he do? Submits to a test to find and claim her, of course.

Aphrodisiac - M -  Hermione drinks something that wasn’t intended for her. Draco finds a very pleasant surprise in the Heads’ Common Room.

Always Be My Baby -  Draco Malfoy was hit by a curse which turned him into his six year-old self again. And Hermione was asked to take care of him until they develop a cure for him. Oh, baby.

Hot When Jealous - Draco was always getting jealous for no reason, accusing Hermione of flirting with people she had absolutely no interest in.

Utterly Normal

Sam Winchester x Reader

1450 Words

Written for @impala-dreamer and her one prompt for all Sam challenge. The prompt was:  “I promise, I won’t let go.”

As long as you had known Sam, you dreamed of him, and of the life the two of you could never have together. Everything from the white picket fence, to the boring desk job before you would come home to his dazzling smile. Never once did you tell him, knowing he would give you that soft smile of his, saying something to take away the awkwardness of the moment. So, you kept the wonderful dreams to yourself, knowing they would be the only way you would ever experience a somewhat normal life.

With each hunt draining you, almost killing you once or twice, the dreams sometimes disappeared for days or weeks at a time. Often leaving you lonely, and wanting that comfort they provided. So, when you woke up one morning, with Sam’s arm wrapped tight around you, your bare chest pressed to his, you didn’t think anything of it at first. Glad to have your favorite dreams back, you cuddled as deep as you could, not wanting the dream to end. “Y/N, we need to get up.” Sam chuckled against your hair. “I need to go to work.”

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Valentine's Day special + Hinata, Tendou and Iwaizumi ♥

I feel like I wrote it just, because I wanted to write something for my favourite characters. You’re welcome.


Hinata Shouyou 

‘’Okay guys, we do as we established before. When s/o comes through the gym door, we turn the light on and then Hinata confesses. No one laughs, no one talks. You are just smiling like nice and supportive teammates - you are. Understood?’’ Koushi stated, smiling kindly at every one of them, but something about the way his face twisted was saying that refusal would do them nothing good. So they all nodded happily, already regretting coming to the school that day. 

Tsukishima was fuming inside, not being able to throw any snarky remark, because of his vice-captain earlier threat, that if one of them destroys Hinata’s special day - they will be met with terrible consequences. 

Kageyama didn’t understand the situation at all, going along with the plan and avoiding his growing disappointed, caused by the declination of practice. 

Tanaka and Nishinoya..were just themselves, stressing the poor orange head more and more as the seconds passed by. 

Asahi just sighed. 

‘’This is going to be a disaster.’’ However, the door opened, revealing their captain - Sawamura Daichi. 

‘’I saw her! Turn the lights off and get your shit together! You better do it right! H-HINATA STOP CRYING!’’ They did as they were told, giving Hinata some tissues as he slowly caught his breath. He was finally ready. After two long minutes, a crack of the door was heard in the whole gym and then it was thrown open. Shouyou, who couldn’t stand the pressure, closed his eyes and hold the red rose in front of his shaking figure. Soon the lights were on and it was the time for the final words. 

‘’I-I really liKE YOU! WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?!’’ He screamed at the top of his lungs, with his eyes still tightly closed. Everything around him was dead silent and he couldn’t tell whether it was good or bad. In the end, he decided to open one of his eyes to see your - probably stunned - reaction. He wasn’t prepared for what he saw. 

His coach was looking at him with raised eyebrows, before his palm met his forehead as the snickers of his teammates filled his ears. 

‘’Well, I appreciate your feelings Hinata, but I think we do not..eh..belong with each other. Try again in the future.’’ When these words left Keishin’s mouth, small tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Everyone stopped making noises for a second and then Hinata erupted. 

‘‘I-I tried so hard! I was confessing everyday to my mirror just to say it right! And now my chances are gone! S/o will never go out with me, I can just die in a hole!’’ He wailed, hot tears running down his cheeks one by one, imitating waterfall. 

And when Sugawara wanted to hug the death out of Hinata, allowing him to cry on his shoulder and ensure that he will have millions of chances, your head popped out behind Ukai’s back. 

‘’Thanks Shou-kun, it means a lot to me. Let’s go out!’’ And that was the time, the small, overwhelmed with emotions crown - fainted. Happy and satisfied, just to be sure. 

Originally posted by pidor-ismyyobidashi


Tendou Satori 

‘’Hi s/o! What a beautiful day, isn’t it?’’

‘’What do you want Satori?’’ You replied to his greeting with an ugly frown and unsettling feeling in your empty stomach.

‘’So harsh! Why do you assume I want something?’’ He gasped theatrically, squeezing his shirt in the place of the heart. Acting obviously, wasn’t his strongest point, he should just stick to the volleyball. No offense.

‘’Don’t try to lie, we’ve known each other for years, idiot. You always want something. It’s as obvious as the fact that we will die.’’ Ignoring his opening mouth, you went to your destination - hoping he would not follow you, but he did shortly after. 

‘’So depressing, I feel like we are kids again! And it’s not true, you can’t just assume that whenever I talk to you I need a favor! But this time I really need something.’’ Yeah, his smile announced something bad or even worse. 

‘’Shoot while I’m still listening. And make it quick.’’

‘’So, Valentine’s Day will be soon and I thought it would be nice if you go out with me.’’ He asked, giving you a sincere smile at which you frowned even harder. That was rather unexpected. He? Interested in you?

‘’To where?’’ You asked, groaning internally. He was a very puzzling person, who could be not only annoying, but also unbearable especially in the morning. And not to mention you were short-tempered. It explained everything tbh. 

‘’Restauration. And a walk. Or first walk and th–’’

‘’No.’’ You interrupted him angrily - rejecting his offer, but for a different reason that he thought you did. 

‘’Oh..-’’ His face twisted in the pained expression, not visible for ordinary people to see, but since you were his friend for a long time - you knew him pretty well. ‘’Okay, then.’’ He turned to walk away from you, but you quickly caught his wrist in your warm hand. 

‘’But-’’ You hold onto his slightly trembling fingers now. ‘’We can go to my or your place, watch stupid videos and movies and talk shit about people. What do you think?’’ He smirked.

‘’Marry me.’’

Originally posted by celtie


Iwaizumi Hajime

Your first two lessons ended pretty quickly, but a lunch break was nicely welcomed, anyway. After standing up from your seat, you stretched legs and headed towards Oikawa’s class, because of his previous invitation to eat with him and Iwaizumi. In a normal situation you would decline and spend time with your own friends, but the fact that Hajime was there made the decision for you.

When you finally saw them sitting next to each other and fighting heatedly, but rather silently - you only smiled at them, ignoring the painful throbbing in your chest upon seeing your crush. 

What do people tend to say? You only live once, yes? Well, no - it’s bullshit. You still were stressing yourself over and felt like you were dying. Every thought hurt not only mentally, but also physically, however, you promised Oikawa to spend time with them and keeping your promises was a priority in your life.

‘’Hey guys!’’ They immediately stopped talking (poor Tooru, silenced with the hit in the stomach), after they saw your approaching form. You smiled and they smiled back, but on the brunet’s face it looked more like a grimace. 

‘’H-hey s/o-chan! Sit next to Iwaizumi!’’ He stumbled, pointing at the empty seat beside his very flustered teammate. 

‘’Okay, is there something wrong? You were arguing just a minute ago.’’ Your curiosity got the best of you as always. 

‘’Ah! Iwa-chan has been just bitter, because I didn’t mention you were coming!’’ He joked, looking kind of better than he was. Although, his words stung just a little bit. 

‘’I can leave if you..’’ You looked at Iwaizumi, trying your hardest not to frown, but despite your greatest fears his face didn’t show anger like you expected, but astonishment. 

‘’N-nO! I WAS JUST SURPRISED, THAT’S ALL!’’ He bowed slightly. ‘’Please stay with us, sorry.’’ His nervousness made you laugh and remember why you fell for him once again. It’s so hard to resist such a precious person.

‘’Thanks! Sorry for misunderstanding!’’

The rest of the break went smoothly, well almost. Life just didn’t want to leave you alone and let you be happy even for one day. One freaking day.

’Soooo—-S/o-chan! Iwa-chan has an important question to ask you! He’s been thinking about it for a while now and I couldn’t stand it anymore!’’ Oikawa laughed loudly, showing how proud of himself, he was, but he was the only content on in your group. Your mind sank into stress again and Iwaizumi’s face showed terrifying, or even devilish furiousness. 

‘’What are you talking about, you jerk?’’ He uttered, which sounded more like a promise to kill and that nasty glare he sent Oikawa confirmed your thoughts.

’Oh, don’t be so shy! He wanted to ask you out, of course!’’ Let’s just say you stopped breathing.

‘’What the fuck? That’s not true! I would neve–’’ And then he looked at your face, twisted in a great sadness with glittering tears in your eyes. It wasn’t the fact that your crush wasn’t interested in you, you were aware of it, but the whole situation was completely humiliating to you and disappearing from their eyes and avoiding them forever was a rather great idea.

‘’Iwa-chan!’’ Tooru screamed, what was only a fainted sound for your running form. You hoped to never see any on those two again.

‘’Wait!’’ Someone, who you assumed was Iwaizumi shouted, but you ignored him. ‘’Waitt, dammit!’’ Thanks to his athlete build, he managed to run up to you and caught your wrist.

’Leave me alone!’’

‘’I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it!’’ He apologized, but you were having none of it.

‘’Yeah, right.’’

‘’I LIKE YOU, OKAY?’’ Your eyes widened and you finally looked at him, only to see he was avoiding your gaze. ‘’I do, really. I wanted to ask you out, but not in front of that stupid shi–I mean Oikawa. I know I treated you like an asshole just a second ago, but I hope you can look past it and I don’t know, give me a chance?’’ And then your eyes meet and the only thing you registered was nodding your head and his warm lips on your forehead.

Originally posted by vktvr