i hope my eyes get better so i can wear contacts again

Hair, Sex, and Make-up

Being the youngest hair and makeup artist for the idol boy group BTS was your dream. Since you finally got to achieve it things were great and although it was hard being the youngest on the crew you knew that they loved you. You became close to the boys, but more so to Jungkook since you were the same age. However it seemed like things were going to change.

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 6k


Originally posted by officialwookkibby



“Yah, ___. Can you grab my makeup bag for me?”

“Yes, unnie.” You frowned in concentration and looked at Yoongi apologetically before running across the room and grabbing the forgotten make-up bag. Being the youngest hair and makeup stylist for the idol group BTS had it’s ups and downs. The boys loved you and you were close to many of them but the older girls bossed you around a lot.

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something borrowed // stiles stilinski

Summary: Stiles lets Y/N borrow something of his & unexpectedly gains something in return

Requested: no, collab with @rememberstilinski

Pairing: Stiles & Y/N

Warning: no

Masterlist

Clutching the plastic lunch tray she navigated her way through the crowded cafeteria and back to the lunch table. The stress from the first four periods of her day slowly melted away as she spotted her group of friends across the cafeteria, sitting at the same table they had since the start of their freshman year.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as Lydia waved over to her. Picking up her pace, Y/N maneuvered her way through the crowds of people who were too engaged with their conversations with one another to pay any sort of attention to the small girl.

Then, a familiar boy caught her attention.

The sheriff’s son, Stiles Stilinski.

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I Only Want You // Clay Jensen

Request: I’d like to request clay x reader where clay is kinda jealous/possessive?

Requested by: @springfuckingawakening

Pairing: Clay Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 933

It was Friday night and you were a little buzzed despite it only being ten o’clock. Sherri was having a party since her parents were out of town and you figured why not. What with all of the pressures of school and your parents you decided you needed a night to blow off steam. Besides, you had nothing better to do and a party sure beats staying at home getting a head start on next week’s homework.

“Y/N!” you heard behind you and you saw Zach as you turned around.

“Hey, Zach. What’s up?” you asked with furrowed brows since you never really talked to him.

“I need a partner for beer pong, you wanna join?” he asks hopefully. “No thanks. I’m at my limit for drinking tonight.” you laugh and he tilts his head, “Aw, c’mon, I’ll do all the drinking. I just need a partner and you seem like a good shot.” he winked and you groaned as you agreed.

You’ve only been playing for a few minutes and Zach only had to drink two cups while the opposing team had three cups left. You closed one eye as you focused on where you wanted the ball to go. With precision you flicked your fingers and the ball went directly in the cup which caused the crowd around you to erupt in cheers. You raised your arms as you cheered along with them and Zach picked you up a little as he hugged you.

When he put you down you saw a certain dorky boy dressed in khaki pants and a button-up that was tucked into the waistband.

“Clay!” you exclaimed and walked over to your best friend, “You made it!” you cheered and hugged him but quickly eyed his outfit.

“What are you wearing?” you asked as you stifled a laugh.

“Hey!” he mocked offense, “You told me to wear something nice.” he laughed. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean wear church clothes.” you rolled your eyes and quickly started pulling his shirt up to untuck it.

“Better.” you smiled up at him.

“Y/N! Babe!” Zach called, “C’mon it’s our turn!”

“Babe?” Clay scoffed and you smacked his chest playfully. “Be nice.” you scolded before letting out a chuckle because you couldn’t say that with a straight face. You were aware that Clay wasn’t very fond of Zach and his whole group of jock friends. But it was just a game of beer pong.

“Come on. You can watch me annihilate the other team.” you winked as Clay followed suit.

You picked up the ball and blew on it for good luck as you slowly swayed from side to side in concentration. Zach put both his hands on your hips as he came up behind you and whispered encouragements in your ear.

You awkwardly laugh and try to focus, but you couldn’t help but notice Clay clenching his jaw and fists in the corner of your eye. You didn’t think anything of it since he was your best friend and he was probably just looking out for you. You shook your head and bent your wrist as the ball hit the edge of the cup but nonetheless fell in, causing you to win.

The crowd erupted into cheers again but this time louder as Zach picked you up and spun you in circles. You laughed until he put you down leaving a sloppy kiss on your lips and that was enough to set Clay off.

“Hey! Get the fuck off of her!” he all but screamed as he shoved Zach away from you.

“Woah, dude, relax.” Zach backed away slowly with his hands up in defense.

“No. I won’t relax, dude.” He mocked Zach. “Clay, calm down it was just a kiss.” You tried to reason with him as you put your hand on his shoulder.

“It wasn’t just a kiss, Y/N.” he says to you and turns back to Zach, “Don’t you ever touch her like that again. Don’t ever think you can pull something like that with my Y/N.” he spat at him and your eyes widened since you couldn’t recognize the person in front of you right now.

“Clay!” you yelled sternly.

You grabbed his wrist and pushed your way through the crowd to the backyard where a few people loitered.

“What the hell was that?” you scolded and he looked down in embarrassment.

“I have no idea. I’m so sorry I don’t know what came over me.” he sighed, “It’s just seeing him being all touchy with you and then thinking he can just kiss you like that brought something out in me.” he confessed.

“It was just a kiss, Clay. It meant nothing to me.” you reasoned with him but he shook his head.

“It means something to me!” he exclaimed, “Seeing you with him like that made me want to punch something.” he said through clenched teeth as he started breathing heavily, thinking about the kiss.

You put your hand against his face and made him look at you. He starts to calm down and his eyes soften as he makes eye contact.

“The kiss meant nothing.” you softly yet sternly explain to him. He slowly nodded and took a deep breath. The sight of a disheveled and irritated Clay made you smile as you slowly leaned in, as his breath hitched in his throat.

You press your lips against his, softly at first but then he pulls you closer and deepens the kiss. You pulled away a few seconds later, out of breath and heart still fluttering.

“I only want you, Clay.”

****
A/N: thank you so much for requesting! this is my first imagine so i hope i did it justice :)

La douleur exquise Pt.2 (M)

La douleur exquise: The heart-wrenching pain of wanting someone you can’t have.

Summary: You’ve been helplessly in love with your brother’s best friend all your life, but he can’t see you as anything other than a little sister.

Pairing: Wonho x Reader x Jungkook (not a threesome but messy as hell)

Word Count: 6.1k

Genre(s): Angst, smut

Part 1 here

A/N: Thank you guys for being so patient with me on this update. I really hope I did it justice and hope you enjoy! (& don’t kill me I’m sorry)

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Glasses

Since I accidentally started this whole “Anti with glasses” thing, I decided I would write a little something about it. Also, this is based off of something @markired sent me and I guess there’s some Danti implied in here? Take it as you will, whether that’s platonic or romantic. 

Also, it’s past 2am here. I tried and I’m an amateur writer.

Anyway, Enjoy! x


Anti needs glasses.

Just like Jack, he needs a pair to see things in the distance. However, his eyesight is worse. That being said, he needs a pair that is stronger than the ones Jack already has and needs to get himself his own pair. He doesn’t like it – oh, he hates having to wear glasses, but contacts drive him up the damn walls so they are out of the question. He thinks they make him look nerdy and less intimidating.

No one except Anti knows that he needs them. He acts like he can see the world crystal clear when in reality, he can hardly see the street signs. It isn’t exactly a good thing when it comes to executing kills because his precision is off and he often misses his shots. This in turn frustrates Dark because he hired the guy to do the dirty work and he’s missing the target – what the fuck?

After nearly losing a seventh victim that month, Dark finally approaches Anti about it.

“Anti, the execution of your kills hasn’t been… extraordinary lately. Is there a reason for that?”

“No,” Anti grumbles, crossing his arms along his chest, “n’ quit questionin’ my killing methods. You won’t even do the kills yerself so don’t be complainin’.”

Anti proceeds to plop himself down on their couch, flipping himself so he’s upside down. His feet hang off the top and his head is hanging off the seat, watching his hair fall back and dangle in the open. It’s evident that he doesn’t want to talk about the subject any further.

But since when does Dark ever really care about Anti’s childish denial?

A deep hum vibrates through Dark’s chest as he scrutinises the green-haired male, completely disregarding his attempt at an insult. Anti, who’s fully aware he’s being watched, lifts his head to lock eyes with Dark. He squints them dangerously.

“The fuck are ye lookin’ at?” he spits out.

“You need glasses, don’t you?” Dark suddenly says, straightening his posture and canting his head to the side, “that’s why you’re having trouble executing kills properly and squinting at everything. You can’t see properly.”

“I can see fine!” Anti barks, pushing himself back up onto the couch and propping himself up with his elbows. His slightly sharper teeth become more evident as he scowls at Dark.

“Oh, is that so? In that case, I suppose you won’t have any trouble telling me what that sign across the street says?” Dark lifts a brow as he points out the window at a little yellow sign with bold black letters on it.

Anti looks over his shoulder at the sign and almost visibly pales. There’s no way he can read that. It’s just far enough for the letters to be too blurry to read. They just look like a black cloud on a yellow sign.

“I don’t need to prove myself to an old man,” Anti sneers, huffing and sliding off the couch. Before Dark can bring up the subject again, the green-haired male storms off into another room somewhere in the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

“Idiot,” Dark sighs, deciding to let the topic go for the time being.

A week passes by after that and yet another nearly failed kill. Dark didn’t get frustrated this time because he now knows the source of the problem, he just has to find out how to fix it. Even though he finds it absolutely ridiculous to have to chase after Anti for being a big baby who’s in complete denial, if it will help his case then he is more than willing.

That, and teasing Anti is just so much fun.

“Is it because you don’t like glasses? There are certainly contacts out there that you could use,” Dark suddenly inquires over dinner one night.

Anti freezes in his movements and peers up at his friend, a look of annoyance on his face. He grits his teeth and gives Dark the silent treatment.

“Even so, anything is better than being partially blind, don’t you think?” the other continues, slowly enjoying his meal as though his friend’s annoyance was nothing but a speck of dust on his shoulder for him to brush off.

There’s a moment of silence between the two. The only sound in the entire room is that of their utensils against their plates. Anti stops eating for a minute and simply sits there, picking at the meat in front of him.

“Don’t be stupid, Dark, I can’t wear glasses. I’m not a nerd,” Anti scoffs, eyes stuck to his plate, “n’ fuck contacts, those little shits are annoying as all fuck.”

Dark doesn’t say anything after that but instead just lifts his eyes to look at the man sitting across from him at the table. He almost wants to laugh at Anti’s comment but refrains from doing so. His mind is at work throughout the rest of the meal.

After that night, Dark eventually goes through the torturous process of discovering Anti’s prescription. It takes almost a full week before he gets the results but when he does, he feels more victorious than he has in quite some time.

And he decides to get Anti some glasses.

Dark is seated in his favorite chair one evening, relaxing while enjoying a good book. However, he’s having trouble concentrating on the letters in front of him. A disheartened sigh escapes his lips at the realisation that he won’t be able to continue.

Suddenly, a familiar voice makes its way through the once silent hallway.

DARK, WHAT THE FUCK ARE THESE!?” Anti hollers from his bedroom. Dark can’t help the smug grin that spreads across his lips.

“They’re glasses, Anti. Try them on,” Dark urges, his tone calm compared to the other.

There’s a series of quick footsteps that grow louder as Anti approaches. Dark turns his head towards the open doorway to see Anti storming in, eyes practically glowing with annoyance.

I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU THAT I DIDN’T WANT ‘EM. I LOOK LIKE A FUCKIN’ NERD, DARK!” He yells, the pair of black glasses in his hand. His other is balled into a fist, practically drawing blood from how tightly it’s closed. “DON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME!?

In a fit of childish annoyance, Anti lifts his hand with the glasses held tightly between his fingers. In the split second it takes for Dark to realise what’s about to happen, Anti’s hand comes toward the ground in full force.

Dark has never moved so fast in his life. It’s as though he’s a shadow, glitching from his spot in the chair to Anti’s side. Dark’s large hand grips Anti’s wrist tightly, preventing him from throwing the glasses onto the ground and breaking them. His nearly black eyes seem to flash red for a moment.

YoU wiLL nOt breAK tHeSE, unDersTOoD?”

Dark’s voice is deep, harsh and slicing. Like the biting cold of winter, it nips at Anti’s childish conscience and fills him with fear. His hot breath tickles Anti’s ear and he shivers, eyes widening in realisation at what he was about to do and how pissed Dark is now. The hold on Anti’s wrist is bone crushing and the green-haired male grits his teeth.

Dark slowly releases Anti’s wrist and brings his hand back to his side. After taking in a slow breath, he looks Anti in the eyes with an expressionless face.

“Now, try them on,” he tries again, his voice much softer than before.

Anti is still hesitant and it shows. He glances down at the glasses in his hand with an expression of disgust. Dark rolls his eyes – he’s losing his patience.

“Anti, wearing glasses does not make you a nerd,” Dark says deeply, reaching over to a small table next to his chair. On it sits a pair of glasses which Anti has surprisingly never seen before. Dark slides them onto his face and pushes them up his nose gracefully with his finger. “See?”

Anti blinks wordlessly at Dark. His eyes are wide and are scanning Dark’s face over and over again. He’s never seen this before and Dark isn’t able to tell whether this reaction is good or bad.

“Now you really look like an old man, Dark,” Anti giggles, the sound echoing around him and layering over itself.

Dark’s brows rise and his jaw sets. “Anti, you prick, I’m going to-”

“But you’re okay-lookin’ for an old man, I guess,” he then shrugs, a smug smirk on his face.

Dark’s anger and the compliment swirl inside of him and he shuts his mouth, muttering some profanities under his breath. He looks away for nothing but a second and when his eyes return to meet Anti’s, he’s met with a sight he never thought he would see.

Anti is wearing his glasses.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, kiddo,” he says, the corner of his lips twitching up into a smile.

Anti shrugs off the compliment and quickly takes the glasses off, grimacing.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbles as he walks off to his room. 

Dark, now feeling satisfied, sits back down into his chair and resumes his reading – he can see the words much better now.

Both Dark and Anti begin to wear their glasses more often now, even when they don’t necessarily need them.

Jughead x Reader | Texts

Originally posted by evenstoast

This has been requested by this lovely anon: 

I absolutely adore this imagine!

/ GENDER NEUTRAL FRIENDLY /

Plot: You and Jughead are texting, they live next to each other but can LITERALLY just go to the others house, but it’s late at night and the two of you are bored. Just a short lil fluff I guess

based on show

Warnings: None

“Ugh I can’t believe it finishes like that!” You shouted to yourself. You just finished an amazing movie which had the worst ending in the entire world of movies. You grabbed your remote and switched the TV off. You sighed and scrolled around on Netflix looking for something better to watch. You put on an old episode of your favourite show and sat chilling for a while. Just eating Cheez-Its and trying to stay awake. You were determined to have a good Thursday night.

You got up from your bed to grab your laptop from your desk which faced your window. You looked outside and up at the moon. A full moon, it spooked you out a little as you thought about Jason Blossom death and how his killer is still out there. You shivered and looked up at your neighbour’s window Jughead Jones, the ‘boy next door’. Well… More like ‘the weird spooky boy next door’. You’d known him since grade school and have been friends with him ever since you defended him against a bully.

What you didn’t ever mention is that you liked him a whole lot. He was always there after a breakup, you confide every emotion in him and basically share everything. A lot of your stuff is at his and a lot of his is at yours.

Oh god you’re wearing one of his shirts right now…

Your parents would constantly ask ‘when are you two settling down?’ or ‘shall I send out a Save The Date?’ obviously they were mostly jokes but sometimes you found yourself imagining living with Jughead and waking up next to him in the morning and-

But they were silly daydreams, you knew he had an interest in someone else. Betty Cooper, the actual ‘girl next door’ she was so lovely to everyone and especially you, you were close. Her and Jughead worked on The Blue and Gold. You could sense there was something going on in his head. But you wished it was you. You grabbed your phone from your bed and sent a text to Jughead.

You: You up?

The ‘seen’ message came up almost instantly, he was probably bored too.

Jughead: Yup… Stuck on homework… You?

You smiled and typed away.

You: Bad movie… Hey I can see you!

You walked up to your window and saw Jughead walking round his room looking down at his phone. He looked up, pissed off

Jughead: Creep

You: Pervert

You laughed and kept your eyes on him and saw him texting.

Jughead: I’m a pervert? Wouldn’t a pervert rather see someone undressed?

You smirked and noticed Jughead looking up at you. You mimicked taking your shirt off but stopped before Jughead shielded his eyes.

Jughead: That came out wrong, and you’re immature

You: You’re annoying

Jughead: Why don’t you just come over instead of awkwardly standing in front of your window?

You: Cause it’s almost midnight, I have a curfew. Plus I need my beauty sleep for the Pep rally tomorrow

You almost forgot you made it on the cheer squad. You tried out with Betty and Veronica, the three of you got in. You looked over at your very cute uniform and smiled.

Jughead: Oh yeah… I didn’t think cheerleading was your thing

You: It became my thing once I found out I looked so good in uniform!!

You noticed Jughead smiling and you put your hand up before ducking away from the window. You quickly changed into your cheerleading uniform and walked back up to the window. Jughead chuckled and looked down.

Jughead: Give us a twirl Y/N

As he said, you did a little spin and a few poses. He watched you, a little mesmerised and smiled a whole lot more. He leaned on the window frame.

You: Like what you see Juggy? ;)

You smirked at the text and put your hand on your hips.

Jughead: You’re so annoying.

Jughead: Yeah you look okay

Jughead: I guess

You blushed, he rubbed the back of his neck. You couldn’t see but he was blushing too.

You: You look good too

Jughead: I said okay…

You: Yeah but I knew you meant The Most Amazing Person On This Planet.

You saw Jughead chuckle.

You: I’ll be mad if that’s not my new contact name.

Jughead: Go to sleep!

You: Make me ;)

Jughead sighed and you shut your curtains to change into your pyjamas.

Jughead: Where did you go?

You: I’m changing, wanna see?

Jughead: Not this again…

You opened your curtains, to reveal you just in your pyjamas. And Jughead shook his head smiling. You also opened your window. Jughead did the same.

Goodnight Jughead.” You said

“Goodnight Y/N.” He said. You closed your window and walked over to your bed. You got under your duvet and shut your eyes. Until you heard another phone notification. You picked up your phone and read the text.

Jughead: You’re really pretty

Jughead: I’m sorry for that

Jughead: Do you wanna get a burger and milkshake tomorrow?

You blushed furiously and smiled.

You: I would love to Jug <3

You smiled to yourself adding a cute heart emoji at the end. You put your phone away and went to bed.

Jughead was in his room smiling down at his phone. Blushing furiously.

(Hope you liked it!!)

What Happens In Vegas...

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Smut, fighting, smut, rough smut, Sub!Dean, Dom!Dean (sorta), Dom!Reader, Sub!Reader, gambling, smut, use of sex toy, smut, oh…did I mention smut?

Word Count: 3819

A/N: This was written for @avasmommy224 birthday smut challenge. My prompt is in bold and please forgive me for this lol I had an idea so out of my comfort zone and ran with it. Please leave feedback! it is welcome and appreciated

There will be a part 2 later today!!!! Maybe even a part 3 in the future!

You love your job, plain and simple. You were probably one of the few people who had the pleasure of saying that but it was true. Sometimes things got a little heated but you were more than equipped to handle just about any situation tossed your way. You had just dealt the halfway mark of the current blackjack game at the casino you worked at. It was a table full of testosterone to say the least. One guy is burly with tattoo sleeves down both arms, definitely someone to steer clear of in any kind of hostile situation, the next is a bit smaller than him and drop-dead gorgeous. He’s slightly built and has the most stunning green eyes you have ever seen and every now and then you catch those eyes travelling up and down your physique; what’s visible due to the waist high blackjack table that is. You catch yourself having to fight a smile back every now and then whenever he looks up at you and sends you a flirty wink or two. Casino rules and expectations can be very tricky and the wrong hand gesture or facial expression can throw up red flags, cheating was severely frowned upon and anyone was a suspect.

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Simple Man (Part 2)

Originally posted by frozen-delight

Summary: Reader finds out she isn’t the only one in town that Officer Winchester rubs the wrong way…

Part 1

Pairing: cop!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Third and fourth parts tomorrow!…


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Unexpected

pairing: lin manuel miranda x reader

word count: 2300 (did NOT mean for it to be this long)

warnings: swearing

prompt/request: “Hiiii, can I get a lin x reader where they run into each other on the street or something and they’re both wearing the same outfit (like black jeans and gray hoodies(™️️) and red converse or something) and its just really fluffy and stuff? Ok thanks!!” from an anon

a/n: thIS PROMPT WAS SO CUTE AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH AND I HOPE I DID IT JUSTICE. enJOY!!!


Fuck this wind, you thought angrily as you stomped down a New York City sidewalk.

It had been a tough day, to say the least. Your boss was a moron, your co-workers were bitches, and you had started the morning off by waking up half an hour later than you normally intended and, in result, arrived an hour late for work, which earned you glares and lots of scolding – not to mention your laundry hadn’t finished in time, so you were stuck wearing the same hoodie, jeans, and black converse you wore the night before to make a convenience store run.

When you finally got off for lunch break, you knew you needed to get out of there.

You moved your hood down so it was over your face and slid your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. Grey clouds gathered overhead, and the swift breeze whipped hair across your face and into your mouth. Your eyebrows knitted together in the center of your forehead. You didn’t want to go back to work, but with weather like this? How the hell was your mood supposed to improve when the weather was so utterly miserable? It would do nothing but make you angrier, and you knew if you got any angrier, you wouldn’t be able to get any work done. You stopped for a second, pulled out your phone, and just began to type in your passcode when –

Smack!

You fell face-first onto the cement.

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anonymous asked:

60! :))

I combined the prompt 60. “Oh, do that again.” with @leiascully exercise challenge. 

Set after “My Struggle” most likely; around that time anyway. 

His fist raised to knock, Mulder pauses a moment, realizing he’s never been here before.

Scully’s apartment.

The first time they were partnered, before they were ever anything else, how long did it take him to come to her place? A week, maybe? Two? He can’t remember. The forgetting, he realized early in his treatment, is a side effect of his medication. Some days he curses it, like he curses so many things. Other days, he accepts silently, almost joyously. When it comes to Scully and their past, though, he doesn’t want to forget even the most insignificant moment.

He knocks, finally. His knuckles tingle as he waits for her to open the door. Gone are the times when they lived in the same place, coming in and going out with a kiss hello or goodbye; gone are the days he has a key to her place. Scully has invited him over, though, for the first time in almost a year so maybe this means they’re making progress. Or she is just tired of constantly driving out to their – now his, as she likes to remind him – house. Either way, he won’t complain. He won’t ask either, though. Mulder is not sure he’s still allowed to ask; their relationship, in whatever form it is, twists anew at every turn and right now he can’t tell where he is, where she is. Where they are. So he stays quiet, masks it with a smile, and he is certain she does the same. He’s learning to take baby steps, do one thing to get to another. The days where he jumped in, no questions asked, no action thought through, those are gone, too.

“Oh hi.” Scully greets him when the door finally opens. She stares him up and down as if she’s been expecting someone else.

“Why are you dressed like that, Mulder?”

“I’m wearing casual clothes.” He explains slowly, looking at her. Of course she’s dressed for the occasion already: tight black running shorts and a very form fitting, short sleeved running top in a deep, dark blue. Mulder tries not to stare, tries not to react, but he’s like a Pavlovian dog when it comes to her. She clears her throat and he swears he hears her amusement. Some things simply never change. His eyes meet hers and the twinkle he sees there lets him think today might be a good day for them.

“Why are you wearing casual clothes, Mulder? You can’t run in jeans.”

“I can run wearing an Armani suit, Scully, so the question is I can’t or you won’t let me?” Just like that her mood shifts; there’s the slightest quiver around her lips that would go undetected by anyone who hasn’t spent the last twenty years observing her, loving her.

“Mulder…”

“I know, I know,” he apologizes, “I just didn’t want to scare away my Uber with my tights.”

“Mulder, you need a car.” She finally opens the door wider and Mulder, albeit hesitantly, steps in. The apartment, he realizes, is not at all what he expected or feared. There is nothing here that screams Scully at him. A few picture frames are up and the book shelf carries a few medical journals, a couple of books. There are no personal trinkets. He sees none of the novels she still claims not to own, the ones that are full of fairytale romances, tropical settings and atrocious writing. Mulder stumbled upon one of her dog-eared paperbacks a couple of days ago when he tried to tidy the place up. Just in case, he tells himself. In case she ever wants to come home.

“That’s why I took this job, Scully. Skinner promised me a car.” She rolls her eyes while massaging oil into her legs. The smell reminds him of lazy Sundays years ago when she, not him, wanted to go running. Just in case, she’d told him. In case of what, he’d wondered even then. Unbeknownst to them it had been the beginning of the end. Yet, the sweet scent fills him with a longing. At least back then they’d been living together, sharing their lives, such as they were.

“If you want to keep said job, Mulder, you need to get back into exercising.” She pats his stomach, which he believes is still firm enough.

“Are you saying I look fat?”

“No,” she continues her pre-run routine with stretches that make Mulder hot for entirely different reasons than exercise, “I’m saying you need to get back into shape. Which is why I’m asking you again: why are you wearing this? Where are your running clothes?”

“Like I told you,” Mulder says, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans patiently and slowing down even more when he sees Scully watching him intently, “I didn’t want to scare away the driver. I came prepared.” Taking his jeans off all the way reveal his running tights. Scully bought them for him a couple of years ago and he protested, preferring his much looser shorts, but she told him to try it anyway. He’s been wearing the tights ever since.

“They still fit?” Her voice, as well as her eyes, soften, the memory though unspoken seems almost palpable in the small room. Afraid to break the spell and unable to form words anyway, Mulder just nods.

“Well then,” Scully raises her arms into the air, her top riding up and revealing the slightest peek at her stomach. The need to touch her there is almost unbearable and he straightens his own shirt to distract himself and his hands. Scully lowers her arms and the moment is gone, leaving only the lingering sense of longing. “Let’s go?” Her hands are on her hips and she’s staring at him, challenging him. Some things really do never change, he thinks, and nods.

*

They return an hour later with Scully hobbling on her feet and clinging to him. Mulder offered to carry her and upon receiving the eyebrow withdrew his offer and instead put his arms around her. He’s essentially carrying her this way, too, but he knows she lets it count because her feet are still on the ground. Her body is warm, hot even, after their intense run. She tried to outrun him knowing that despite her smaller physique, she is in much better shape. They didn’t speak at all, just ran, and somehow always fell into step with the other. Until they suddenly didn’t.

“I’m fine, Mulder,” she’d told him through gritted teeth, trying to stretch her left leg and keep running. “We can keep going.” She’d said then, her wet, teary eyes betraying the strong resolve in her voice.

“The only place we’re going is your place – and slowly.” She had not protested then, except for when he tried to carry her, and now here they are. Scully lets go of him and he almost reaches out to stop her, not ready to lose the close contact, and wobbles into her bedroom. She doesn’t tell him to follow and Mulder stands there, half in, half out. His eyes wander about, searching for his jeans, so he can leave. Maybe. He doesn’t know what the protocol is in this situation.

“Mulder?” A muffled voice comes from the bedroom. He takes a few steps and stops in the doorway. The room is as sparsely decorated as the living room, maybe even more so. It reminds him of a hotel, not the ones they used to stay in, in a very sterile, very impersonal way.

“Yeah?”

“Could you, uhm… I hate to ask this of you, but…” Scully is sitting on her bed; she’s taken her shoes off, but she is still wearing the rest of her running gear. She looks young and cute and as much as Mulder wants to voice this, his feelings for her, he keeps quiet and waits for her to go on.

“My leg really hurts and… it’s just a kink. I had it before and uhm, the best way to get rid of it is a massage.” She’s unable to meet her eyes so his grin goes unnoticed. He clears his throat and nods. Which of course she doesn’t see either.

“Sure, Scully. Just tell me what to do.” She sends him into the tiny bathroom to get oil. There are several small bottles and Mulder doesn’t want to think about why she even has them. He picks the one that smells like peppermint, knowing she prefers that for her after run routine. At least he hopes this still rings true. By the time he comes back, Scully has taken off her running tights. The sight should not paralyze him like this; it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, touched before. He used to kiss down her legs, tickling her behind the knee and making her laugh out loud in delight.

“Mulder? What are you doing?” Her question jolts him back to the present time.

“Nothing. I just got the oil.” He joins her on the bed and wonders if he should take off his own clothes. He is positive that he reeks. But his hand lands on her thigh and she moans – loudly. Mulder forgets everything else after that. He uncaps the small, green bottle and pours some of the oil into his hands. He’s done this before, of course. As he puts his hands on her soft skin and starts kneading gently, he can’t help but think of other times they did this. When she moans again, in a way that reminds him of a different situation altogether, he closes his eyes as if in pain only to realize it’s even worse, his mind feeding him unwanted memories. No one, least of all Scully, taught him to navigate this; the remains of their relationship. I need time, she had told him once when she came by the house to pick up a few things, and you need to get better without me here, she’d finished, leaving him again, alone and waiting. No manual to sift through; even if, as Scully would most certainly remind him, he never reads the manual anyway.

“Oh, do that again!” Scully moans and that’s when Mulder stops.

“I can’t do this, Scully.” His hands remain on her leg, warm and firm, oily and soft.

“You’re doing great, Mulder,” she assures him, her face sideways on the pillow, her eyes closed, “Just keep going, please.”

“No, I mean I can’t do this, whatever this is.” One eye opens, then the other as she shifts to look at him. “Why did you even ask me to come here? I can go running at home, you know. You used to do it there, too. It’s a much nicer neighborhood.”

“You’re right,” she sits up with difficulty, “Maybe I wasn’t completely honest when I asked you come here to exercise together.”

“Are you going to make me guess?” Mulder asks when he can’t stand the silence any longer; his therapist implored him to work on his patience, and he has, but right now, he can’t wait when his heart beats faster with a sense of hopeful longing he hasn’t felt in a while.

“Maybe I finally wanted you to see this place,” Scully admits, biting her lower lip; he knows her, reads her easily, and he knows she’s still holding back something, and so he waits, one eyebrow raised, “Do you like this apartment, Mulder?” For a moment he considers lying.

“No. I hate it.” He tells her honestly and she nods.

“I hate it, too,” she admits, her eyes never leaving his, “I miss our house,” she hasn’t called it that in a long, long time, “But I wanted you to see it and well, give you a key. I didn’t mean for my leg to be this bad. This – the massage was not part of my plan.”

“You had a plan?”

“Kind of,” she chuckles, “I thought I’d give you a key so you could consider this your home away from home, too.”

“That’s what this is for you? A home away from home?”

“No,” she takes his hand into hers and stares at his fingers, gently running her own over the back of his hand, “It’s a refuge. I needed one, Mulder. At least for a while. I’m keeping it because… it’s so much closer to work than the house, Mulder.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.” Scully rolls her eyes at him, but then smiles.

“I want us to stay here during the week and then… go home for the weekends.”

“Together? You want us to live here together?”

“Unless you don’t want us-”

“Scully, as long as there’s an us, I want it all.” She grins at him coyly then and lets go of his hand.

“You’ll keep going to therapy, though.” It’s not a question and he nods. “You’ll keep taking your meds.” Another nod follows as a huge grin appears on his face. “We’re not… we still have a long way to go, Mulder.” He wants to take her into his arms, hold her tight and never let go, kiss her and never taste anything else ever again, but he stays put, waits for her.

“You came up with this whole you need to exercise ploy to make me come to your apartment? Scully, you know you could have called.”

“I know,” she tells him, leaning into his space and he can’t wait until they’re ready to take the next step, when this is not just banter but foreplay, “but let’s face it Mulder: you really are out of shape.”

“Says the woman with the leg injury.”

“It’s not an injury, it’s just – why are you grinning like that, Mulder?”

“No reason, Scully. No reason at all.” It’s happiness, he knows, and when she returns his smile he knows she sees it, too.

Fanfiction - A Lifetime of Her (Part VIII)

Part VIII – “Please teach me gently how to breathe”

You can find every previous part here.

Twenty-eight

“Open yer mouth.” I ordered with what I thought might be a commanding voice, holding a spoon in front of her stubbornly closed lips. “This jelly actually looks delicious. Ye need yer strength.”

“Yuck.” Claire showed me her tongue in distaste. “Why don’t you eat it, then? I’ve been eating that yellow blob for the last three weeks!”

“Sometimes it’s red.” I pointed patiently. “I ken ye’re tired of being here, mo nighean donn – I have spent enough time in hospitals to last me a lifetime, I assure ye – but ye’re scrawny as a bird fallen from its nest. They won’t let ye leave unless ye put on some weight.”

“Fine.” She replied in a mordant tone, clutching the spoon away from me. “But I can feed myself – I’ve been shot, not taken back in time to when I was two years old.”

“Then stop acting like a wicked bairn.” I offered her a playful nose scrunch. “How is yer pain?”

“About as good as it was two minutes ago, the last time you asked.” Claire swallowed a spoonful of the hospital’s dessert, grimacing. “Are you sure you haven’t been a nurse in a past life? You seem to like prodding and ordering way too much.”

“I’m sure whatever I was, ye were always the one in charge, lass.” I kissed her forehead – marvelling with the freshness of her skin, after so many days of burning fever. On top of her surgery, from which she was slowly recovering, Claire had developed an infection of her suture – which finally had started to heal properly, after days of intravenous antibiotics. Her usually calm and centred temper had suffered with prolonged seclusion and constant fear of a relapse – and undoubtedly she found my constant attentions profoundly tiresome, if amusing and heartening.

“How is my favourite patient?” Denzel asked, entering the room and greeting us with a warm smile. He looked tired, wearing his crumpled scrubs, his surgical cap slightly hanging from a pocket. “I hear half of the nurses in the department are handing in their notices, unless I discharge you.”

“Hardly.” Claire smiled, neatly folding a corner of her sheet after pushing away the lunch tray. She still looked quite pale, with deep dark smudges under her eyes, but her orbs had regained their usual sharpness and liveliness. “But I’ll let you get away with it if you let me leave this damned place.”

“I’ll have to check your dressings.” Denny squeezed my shoulder in a companion manner, before stepping in to expose her abdomen, still covered with fluffy white bandages. “Your labs are back though – your infection parameters are finally down, so you might be in for some good news.”

After some clicking of his tongue – and a heated debate between the two doctors, from which I only understood about half the strange words – it was settled that Claire was allowed to leave the next day, as long as she accepted to come in every two days to check and redress the wound.

“And you have to build up some body again.” Denzel alerted, ignoring her disarming glances with a professional face. “The infection took almost all of your muscle. You need to eat a bit more if you want to heal nicely.”

“Fine!” She conceded, mocking exasperation. “Get me a cheeseburger, then!”

“Take care, Claire.” Denny winked and brushed her hair with a kind hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning before you leave.”

“Will ye go home, do ye think?” I asked slowly, as she adjusted her pillow to settle in for the afternoon, after Denzel’s departure.

“Where else would I go?” Claire gave me a questioning look, softly squeezing my hand.

“Well,” I started, caressing her knuckles with my thumb. “I was thinking ye could come to my place – just while ye heal.” I added hurriedly, trying not to sound desperate and possessive. “My mind wouldna be at ease if ye were alone in her house, almost empty as it is, with no one to look after ye.”

“If you’re sure.” She raised a brow and smiled. “I can be quite the handful.”

“I am.” I breathed out, trying to control the emotions that seemed to ran so close to the surface, exposed and rampant, after her injury. “Bad things seem to happen when we’re apart. I want ye close to me – I want to care for ye, mo ghraidh.”

“It’s settled, then.” Claire grabbed by hand and pulled me in for a rewarding kiss. “You’ll be my private nurse.”

****

She had protested, assuring me she was quite capable of climbing up the stairs to my apartment – but I saw the effort everything required of her, even standing or laughing too hard – and carried her in my arms, only letting go when I laid her down on my bed.

After helping her change into some comfortable pyjamas, I contentedly sat by the bedroom window, grading some tests from my students, while she took a nap. Once in a while I stopped, my eyes drifting to her, reassuring myself she dreamt within my reach.

I cooked us a simple dinner – roasted chicken with basil and tomatoes, aromatic and homely – and helped her to lay down again, determined to find a place in the sofa or on the floor, where I could sleep close to her without disturbing her.

“Will you sleep next to me?” She asked softly, her brown curls and hawk eyes almost the only visible thing inside the cocoon of quilts I had made around her. “I’d sleep better with you beside me.”

“Aye.” I replied in a husky voice, easing myself under the covers next to her with gentleness, trying not to disturb her with my movements – the idea of causing her any pain made my stomach churn.

I placed an arm around her, reassuring her of my presence – mindful not to put too much pressure over her or to touch her scar. For a time we laid silent, aware of each other’s presence, discovering the intimacy of a bed shared in darkness.

We had been so once before – but at that time she had been devastated, wrecked like a ship after an unforgiving storm, and I had offered her security, a presence of someone who loved her without any demands. I remembered how I had stayed awake, memorizing her until I could recreate her in my heart - believing I’d never see her again, much less hold her in my arms. I wondered if she too recalled that night, when I had offered her the knowledge of my feelings, in the hope that she could use them to heal – and she had.  

I knew she wasn’t sleeping – I’d spent every day and night for the last weeks watching her sleep, until I knew the cadence of her breathing, the comes and goings of her dreams, like a second nature of my own.

She trashed about a little, fidgeting with bedclothes and adjusting her body on the mattress – always laying on her left side, wishing to avoid the tenderness of her upper right quadrant – slowly searching for the contact of my body behind hers, sheltering her like a cloak, two halves finally falling into place.

I waited for her to speak, painfully aware of the desires of my body, feeling her soft arse wedged between my thighs – yet completely restrained by the will of the woman who ruled me.  

A hand came up in the darkness and she placed it gently on my hip.

“I want you.” Claire whispered, almost sobbing. “I need you, Jamie.”

“Are ye sure?” I asked in a husky voice, my fingertips brushing her face, tracing her lips to find truth in her words in the absence of sight. “I dinna want to hurt ye. I’d die if I hurt ye, mo nighean donn.”

“You could never hurt me.” She replied softly, caressing the length of my thigh. “I can’t breathe while we’re apart. I must have you – please, Jamie.”

I didn’t try to dissuade her again, even afraid as I was that it was too soon, too hazardous. I knew all too well the hunger that moved her towards me, starved for life when death had come so close, when it seemed that each moment could be the last. We had lost and found each other in the past, time and again – it seemed that while we were one flesh, one body, parting us would be impossible. While we were in each other, life – and death – was an afterthought, a remote threat, to which we were immune while moving as one.

I moved impossibly slowly, wishing to give her enough space to retrocede at any time, baring us of as many clothes as possible. I kissed the back of her neck, delighted in the small shivers of her skin next to mine, the testament of her arousal in her hardened nipples. I caressed her body with a worshiping hand, taking time at each new discovery that made her moan and hiss in pleasure.

When I thought her ready – desperately pressing herself against me while clawing at my hair – I held her thigh with a light hand and raised her, slightly folding my legs, so I could enter her. I rocked calmly with her body nestled against mine, letting her command the pace while I carried all the weight of her movements.

“I love you”. She whispered – moaned - tilting her head to kiss my lips. “Jamie.” I felt the moistness of her cheeks mixed with mine, tears of a joy long forsaken, exploding between us with enough force to leave us gasping, deeply moved.

It didn’t take long – I knew she was still weak, stubborn and lustful as she might have been. When I felt her tire in my arms, my hand came around her hips to delicately touch her in time with our movements, smiling as she cried out my name.

Afterwards, I held her against me, my hand brushing the dressing on her belly to make sure everything was in place – feeling the comforting thump of our hearts beating together, close enough to be inside the same chest.

“I was right.” She murmured on the verge of sleep, surrendering to my keeping once more. “Nothing hurts when you love me.”

The end

…for now - End of Section 1

SugarDaddy!Cal Pt. 5

A/N: I was gonna update yesterday, but yanno school is stressful yet a top priority. I don’t have much to say, but I'm glad you all like the last part and I’m thankful for all of the nice feedback in my dms. (You get to learn a small ounce about my childhood you guys lmao) I hope you guys enjoy part 5 and remember as always I need 100 notes to release part 6💕

I coulda ended it better too, sorry bout that. It’s past two in the morning on a school night and I ran out of ideas…

**WARNING**: Slight smut, not much though


Parts: One/ Two/ Three/ Four/Five/Six/Seven/Eight

“Y/N…” Calum grumbled, flipping onto his side to see you better and rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think fish go to heaven?”

You couldn’t help but to snort as the sleepy boy asked the question. You were currently in his bed and watching Law&Order SVU on Netflix as he struggled to stay awake. He had called you over an hour or two ago because he was bored out of his mind and now it was just a little past two in the morning. You were hesitant at coming over at first, not wanting to be seen by his roommate, but he convinced you his friend was heavily sleeping since it was so late at night. You also gave into coming over because you hadn’t seen him in almost a week and missed his scent and cheeky smile.

“Seriously.”

“I’m pretty sure they do, Calum, why?”

Keep reading

Undeniable Heat Chapter 34: The Sun’s Warmth

Jensen Ackles x Reader

1150 Words

Story Summary: You’ve just gotten a job as one of the makeup artists on the set of Supernatural. Nervous on the first day, you become completely awkward, winning the affection of the divorced Jensen Ackles. You try to fight your desire for him, but he thwarts you at every turn. Will you be able you separate work and play, or will you let Jensen win?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

It was the squealing of little children that woke you the next morning. With a groan, you went to move your pillow over your head when your hand came into contact with a warm and naked chest. Lifting your head up, you found that you were using Jensen’s chest as your pillow, your legs tangled with his as his arm wrapped protectively around your waist.

Glancing at the clock, you saw it was past nine in the morning. It didn’t surprise you. Both of you had stayed up late, talking about nothing and everything, enjoying each other’s company, feeling somewhat free of the past. Jensen seemed more light hearted, carefree then he had before, and you were coming to realize how important his talk with Danneel had been.

Keep reading

“Why don’t you come in? We can talk.”
AlecXReader

You were the youngest and newest Cullen Clan member. Alice had seen you and from there her and Jasper set off to find you. When you returned with them you were met with nothing, but love and affection from your new family. Growing particularly close with Carlisle you had heard all the stories of the Volturi and of his time with them. They interested you and terrified you all at the same time. You emphasized with the twins most and understood what made them so cynical as vampires. That’s why when you heard they were coming for a visit you made sure to be as polite and well-behaved as you could be. Your first impression when Aro walked through the door was “Woah I wish my hair was a silky as his,” which needless to say earned a slight smile from Edward. Cauis looked exactly as he had been described to you, perpetually pissed off. Marcus seemed to have no interest in why they were there and what was going on, and you couldn’t blame him. Felix was the next you noticed, he loomed at least a foot and a half taller than you and had a physique similar to Emmett. You bet that would be one heck of a fight if it ever came down to it. Next to Felix stood a shorter man who you recognized to be Demetri, Amun had spoke of him the last time Carlisle and you had visited Egypt. You knew the capability of his power and found it absolutely fascinating. A girl about three inches shorter than you glided up to Aro’s right side. This was her. This was Jane. She looked different than you had imagined. Her hair was pulled back into her signature bun and her red eyes scanned the room several times every minute, as if she was ready to drop someone at any moment. Her cheekbones were sharply defined and her lips were thinner than yours. She made eye contact with you and you immediately dropped your gaze to your painted nails and started to chip off the gray and red paint. You only looked up again when her burning gaze left your body. When you looked up a boy had moved to Aro’s left side. You almost took a sharp intake of breath but quickly regained yourself. This was Alec. He stood with his shoulders square to make him look broader and his feet shoulder with apart. His face alone was beautiful, much like his sister his cheekbones were high and defined, but his lips were plumper. His red eyes glittered under fine, thick lashes, indicating they had fed recently. His dark hair was sweeped the side and it framed his face nicely. His hands were clasped behind him beneath his cloak and his arms rippled every minute or two showing that he was clenching his fist. You heard someone clear their throat and your head snapped in their direction.
“Aro, this is Y/N, the newest member to our clan,” Carlisle spoke giving you a soft smile as you looked Aro in the eyes giving what you hoped looked like a welcoming smile.
“Y/N, what a lovely name for a lovely young lady” Aro spoke taking tow strides forwards and grasping your hand.
“Tha-” you didn’t get to finished before your human life flashed before your eyes as Aro saw it. Your first day of school, your first crush, your best friend, your prom dresses, your car, your parents, your siblings, the car wreck that you “died” in, he saw all of it and you had never felt more vulnerable in your existence.
“What an extremely ordinary life you had, Y/N,” Aro commented striding backwards to his spot between Alec and Jane.
“I-Um-thank you, I guess,” you stuttered trying to regain composure. Aro gave off a light laugh before Marcus stuck out his hand to him. Aro quickly grabbed for it pushing Alec back slightly, as if what Marcus was offering him better than the blood he craved. Not seconds later Aro’s loud maniacal laugh filled the kitchen where the clan’s were gathered. Edward was beside you in seconds in a defensive stance
“No, I will not let my baby sister be mated to him,” Edward hissed.
“What is it Aro,” Carlisle said calmly, as if he already knew the answer to his own question.
“Miss Y/N here, is Alec’s mate, dear friend,” Aro said dreamily like, as if he had hoped for this very day. My mouth fell slightly agape as I made eye contact with Alec who hadn’t even broke composure. He was stoic, he showed no shock as I did. Jane, however, looked as if she was ready to burn me right then and there.
“No,” Emmett growled and moved to stand by Edward in front of me, “Out little sister isn’t about to be mated with a Volturi guard.”
“Your ‘little sister’ has no choice, fools,” Cauis spat, looking for a fight. Emmett growled and started to move forward. You grabbed his arm and attempted to hold him back as Felix moved forward. You had bet that a fight between the two would be a good fight, but you did not want it to be over you.
“He is right, Emmett, you have no say and neither do Alec or I. I’m sure if he had a choice he would chose different,” you pleaded with your brother. Fortunately, Emmett backed down and so did Felix, but the tension still stuck in hot and heavy in the air.
“May we stay a few days, Carlisle. So the new mates may get to know each other before she comes back to Voltaire with us,” Aro smiled as if the encounter between Emmett and Felix hadn’t even happened.
“Of course,” Carlisle nodded much to your horror. Yes, Alec was beautiful, but did you want to be mated to him? You weren’t for sure, he put you on edge, they all did.
The days went on and you didn’t even speak with Alec. Yes you two had your fair share of state downs as you tried to find the right words to say to him. What do you say to him? “Oh hey my names Y/N, nice to finally meet the guy I’ll be with for the rest of my immortal life,” some how you didn’t think that would quite cut it. Jane had been staring you down every time she saw you. You understood why, she feels like you’re going to take away her brother and he’ll not have anytime for her anymore. You understood where she was coming from, but it was seriously making you panic that she would light you on fire if you turned your back to her. You decided enough was enough and it was finally time to talk to Alec and maybe Jane if she was with him at the time, so there you stood in front of the white oak door with your hand raised ready to knock. You debated for several minutes before lowering your hand and moving to back away. Right as you did though the door swung open.
“I’ve been waiting for you to knock, but seeing as you never did, why don’t you come in? We can talk,” he spoke smoothly.
“Uh, sure,” if you would have been human your face would have been redder than that really bad sunburn you got when you went to the beach for spring break one year and didn’t wear sunscreen the whole week.
“My sister feels as if you are going to take me away from her,” he bluntly stated closing the door behind him.
“I promise you that won’t happen, I know how much the two of you mean to each other,” you say hugging your arms to your chest and turning to face him. You fiddle with the ends of your long sleeve shirt as you waited for a response.
“Good. As long as you know my sister will be a priority over you,” he was very cold.
“I know, I am sorry. I know you don’t want to be mated to me. I’m in no way pretty and by no means special. I don’t even have a power,” you apologize lowering your gaze from his.
“You are very pretty, Y/N. Please do not think otherwise. And you are special. Well now you are. You’re the mate to one of the witch twins. You will be respected because others will be afraid to disrespect you because you are mine,” his slender fingers wrap under your chin and lift your face to look at him.
“No matter what you may believe Y/N, I do want you and I believe with time we can learn to love each other. For now though, no I don’t love you, but you are mine.”

-Admin Magda
(Feedback always welcome! Request are open!!)

anonymous asked:

Tyler's new instagram post made me think .... what if he posted that fresh after eating the reader out??? His lips look so good in it and that's what it made me think of

alright i guess here’s something fluffier than what i usually write (and substantially longer than i actually intended whoops)


You’re laying in bed, early one morning, still half asleep; as you roll over onto your stomach, attempting to drape your arm over your boyfriend, you find an empty bed, sheets still slightly warm from him having been there recently. You let out a soft, frustrated groan, hoping he’s somewhere nearby to hear your anguish. When you hear a chuckle in the room, you open your eyes slightly to try to find him.

Tyler is sitting across the room,on the sofa by the window, his laptop sitting on his thighs, while he looks at you with a smirk on his face. He’s still wearing the basketball shorts he slept in, along with a pullover hoodie over his t-shirt. You let out a sigh at the sight of him, closing your eyes once again.

“What time is it?” you grumble.

“Almost nine,” he replies, his voice still raspy. You groan once again, wishing you were still asleep; you hear Tyler chuckle again, before the sound of him padding across the room towards the bed. “How’d you sleep, baby?” he whispers, sitting on the side of the bed beside you. You feel him gently rub at your back, moving up to play with your hair.

“Okay, I guess,” you reply, opening your eyes once again to peer up at him. He smiles lazily at you, and you get a better look at the facial hair he had been growing out, already in a stubble. “Why are you up so early?” you ask.

“Got inspired to write some stuff.”

“Come back to bed and warm me up.”

“Oh, you’re cold, huh?” he asks, his hand trailing down your back again.

“Mmhm,” you hum, watching him lift the blanket up to peer underneath it.

“Maybe it’s because you’re only wearing a t-shirt and some panties,” he chuckles, caressing your backside. You hum contentedly, eyes closing once again. “You want me to warm you up?” he rasps. When you nod your head, Tyler chuckles quietly, fingers gently squeezing your backside. “Lay on your back,” he instructs.

You do as you’re told, rolling over onto your back, but keeping your eyes closed. Tyler slips his hand beneath the blanket, pushing your shirt up your stomach and pressing his fingers past the waistband of your panties. You instinctively spread your thighs to give him more access as you feel his fingers delve into your wetness.

He gently strokes your clit, making your body hum at the contact; your eyes flutter open, meeting his gaze. He’s watching you intently, his eyes clouded over already but no emotion on his face; it’s as though he’s so focused on your pleasure he has no time for emotions.

When you let out a soft whine, the corner of his mouth twitches up into a small smirk before he slips his fingers towards your entrance. His fingers tease your hole for a moment, before he carefully dips them into you; it almost catches you off guard, so you shove your hand under the blankets to grasp his wrist.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispers. “Do you want me to eat your pussy, really soft and slow?”

“Yes,” you breathe, biting your lip as you keep eye contact with him.

Tyler smirks at you, acting quickly; he ducks under the blanket, pulling it over his head as he kneels between your thighs. He helps you work your panties off of your legs, pulling them back around him as he gets more comfortable. You feel his hands press at your inner thighs, pushing them further apart before he dips his head towards you, licking up from your entrance to your clit.

He begins to work, teasing your entrance with his tongue for a few moments, before pressing it into you, tonguing you slowly. You gasp softly, slipping your hand beneath the blanket to thread your fingers through his hair; when you head him moan against you from the way you tug his hair, his tongue begins to work faster before he slows down again, pulling his head back.

“You know how I get when you pull my hair, baby,” he mutters from beneath the blanket.

“And now that it’s growing back, I get to do it again.”

He laughs softly, almost a giggle as he presses his mouth to your clit; he begins to suck on it, very gently as his fingers find their way towards your entrance. He uses the juices that have seeped from you to coat his fingers, pushing them into you slowly. You groan out and push your head harder against the pillow, grip tightening on his hair.

He continues his slow, sloppy motions of his mouth, letting go of your clit so he can tease it with his tongue from his wide open mouth. You can hear him panting, his fingers maintaining their slow pace to match the movements of his tongue.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you breathe out.

You feel his stubble rubbing against you harshly, a vast difference between the friction it causes and the actions of his mouth. Sucking on your clit again, Tyler lets out a moan, trying to maintain his own composure from what he’s doing to you, in an effort to keep his pace. Finally, you feel your orgasm very slowly building in your stomach, walls clenching around his fingers.

“C’mon, baby,” he mutters against you.

The mix of his slow movements, his stubble on your skin, and the soft whimpers he’s letting out push you over the edge, very slowly; your body quakes beneath him, thighs trembling and breathy moans falling from your mouth. You pull on his hair much harder than you intended, but when you head Tyler groaning, you know how he loves it.

You continue to shake from the waves of your climax, eyes closed tightly until you feel him pull back from you. You open your eyes, looking down to watch him pull the blanket off of his head to look up at you with a wide grin.

“You liked that?” he asks, licking his lips. You nod your head unable to speak, earning another soft chuckle from him. He crawls back up your body, pressing a gentle, passionate kiss to your lips. “You gonna go back to sleep?” he asks, softly, brushing your hair from your forehead.

“Maybe,” you reply, lazily.

“I’ll leave you alone, then,” he whispers, stroking your cheek. “I’ve got more writing to do.” He kisses you once more, before climbing from the bed; he makes sure you’re tucked back into the covers, then crosses back to the sofa. You watch him for a moment, unbeknownst to him, seeing him lifting his phone up to take a selfie; after a few minutes, you hear the notification on your phone, signifying that someone you follow posted on Instagram.

“Are you serious, Tyler?” you mutter, knowing exactly what he did. He giggles once more, tossing his phone onto the sofa and pulling his laptop back into his lap.

“Go to sleep, baby. You’re worn out.”

When it Rains || Chapter Three

Genre: Angst, Fluff, (eventual) smut

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, Jimin x Reader 

Word Count: 1630

A/N: It’s here! Sorry for the wait! Thank you for all the support! Please enjoy! Sorry if there is any mistakes!

Originally posted by fullfangirling27

The boy you had been waiting to meet again was standing right in front of you. He finally escaped your dreams and was living up to the last statement he told you.

“I’ll see you around Y/N”

That simple sentence had been replaying in your head ever since he left that day and you couldn’t wait to hear his sweet voice again. Whenever Jimin spoke, his words flowed beautifully out of his mouth like a river.

This event itself felt like a dream. What was Jimin doing outside your apartment, in the rain, at five in the morning? He was dressed beautifully, wearing a long black coat with black jeans to match. He also had a mask covering the bottom half of his face for an unknown reason.

“Y/N? What are you doing? Come here.” His river like voice cascades smoothly through your ears as he gestures you to take shelter under the same black umbrella from before.

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2.1 out of 5.0  [part one]

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Black Mirror Nosedive AU, Smut {angst in later parts}
Warnings: exhibitionism, voyeurism, dirty talk
Summary: You were a 4.9 and he was a 2.1, and that fact alone should have made you realize that the two of you were never meant to be. But as the saying goes, “the heart wants what it wants”.
Word Count: 10k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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