i just saw someone already made this but it was already finished so yeah

Some Strings Attached

Ugh so there was a post going around that I’ve now long since misplaced but it was like “I just saw you go upstairs with someone else and I know we’re only fuck buddies but I’m gonna go punch them in the face” and I was HERE FOR IT. If somebody remembers the post, link me. In the meantime, have some Sterek getting together fluff.

“Just tell Derek you want to date him,” Scott says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Stiles bugs his eyes and flails his hands in wordless frustration, because the correct response to this patently ludicrous advice eludes him. He had come for sympathy, not pie-in-the-sky delusions. “Scott. Bro,” he finally gasps. “How could you even suggest that in good faith? No way! Bad plan!” He slashes his arms in a demonstrative X. “The only reason we’re even hooking up is that I made it super clear I was down to fuck, no strings attached! I’m not ruining a good thing by announcing to Derek Hale that I’m 85% in love with him.”

“Why?” Scott genuinely seems confused, the sweet summer child. After falling into a happy triad with Allison and Isaac after their first semester at UCLA, he doesn’t really understand the definition of “unrequited.”

Stiles turns his attention to a hanging thread on his t-shirt, sourly tugging it loose. “He’s out of my league. I mean, with the baseball, and the smarts, and the sarcasm, and those eyes…” he breaks off with a sigh. The last thing he needs to do is remind himself of how gone he is on Derek. “Just, he’s popular. Dictionary definition of too cool for school. And the three people he actually deigns to hang out with here are all just as cool and good looking as he is. Do I need to remind you I’m not? I’m a gawky, nerdy Sophomore. I’m lucky to even be his fuck-buddy.”

Scott makes a face, incredulous. “I dunno, he must like you well enough if he’s still sleeping with you after all this time. What’s it been, six months? And you guys hang out, too, you’re always telling me about how easy it is to chat with him after you bone. So it’s not just sex.”

Stiles grimaces. “Yeah, but it’s not…”


“… a real relationship,” Derek says into the phone, hearing full well the heavy dejection in his voice. So sue him; the admission is more than a little depressing. “He just wants to be fuck buddies.”

“How do you know?” Laura asks reasonably. “Maybe this Stiles person would be interested in dating you, too. No offence, but you’re not great at reading people. I mean, he’s interested in chilling with you even after you hook up, and clearly he enjoys the physical aspect. Did he actually ever say he wasn’t looking for more?”

Derek heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes even though she can’t see over the phone. “Yep. About two minutes after the first time we slept together he said, ‘no strings attached, obviously.’ So, you know, pretty safe bet that it’s no strings attached.”

“Oh,” Laura says. For once she doesn’t have a snappy comeback.

“Oh,” Derek agrees. Dejectedly.

She gives him a sympathetic little hum, and then asks, “and he’ll definitely be at the sorority barbecue?”

“Yeah.” Stiles and his broad shoulders and his long fingers are definitely going to be at the party.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go,” his sister says softly. “If you really like him, and he’s just looking to get laid…”

Derek groans. Not go, and give up a chance to hook up with Stiles? Smart, maybe, but not something he’s capable of doing.

The problem is, he’s liked Stiles forever. Or at least since he first saw him, laughing uproariously and running around with his friends with an actually broom between his legs, playing “Quidditch.” Derek would have been way too embarrassed to do something like that on the front lawn, but Stiles made it seem like the most effortlessly awesome thing a person could get up to.

No, compared to Stiles, Derek is practically a social recluse, an awkward jock with only about three people who he gets along with at all. Stiles definitely doesn’t want to get saddled with a boyfriend like him. He’s lucky they’re even hooking up after all this time.

“Derek, I mean it,” Laura says. “Look out for yourself for once.”

“I know, I know,” Derek grumbles. “But it’s not my fault he’s…”

Keep reading

Wrong

Originally posted by lumos025

Summary: Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung bullied you in high school and by some sick joke the universe was playing on you, 2 years later Jungkook was attending the same University as you. Even sicker joke was being stuck with him doing a project on ‘Sex in Cinema’ for a whole semester. Go figure.

Words: 8083

Warnings: Smut, a lot of dirty talk holy shit (I can’t help it), oral, masturbation, overstimulation.

2 years earlier:

You walked down the road, almost around midnight, trying to get home as fast as possible the chilly rainy weather. Not to mention the truck that was trailing behind you and the screams and shouts of “wait up thunder thighs!” and “stop running away like a little bitch!” coming from the 3 boys who occupied it. Wrapping your arms around yourself to feel just an ounce of warmth, you willed yourself to ignore these bastards and walk faster. ‘I’m almost home, I’m almost home’ repeating it like a mantra in your head. Really, it was a stupid idea to think that you could enjoy a last high school party with your friends who were the complete opposite of you. After all, when the three most popular boys of the school were determined to make your life a living hell, why would anyone else want to treat you different in this extremely cliché scenario. It was hard to pinpoint what exactly was it about you that made them hate you so much.

From the time that you can remember, and you remembered a lot, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook had always despised you. It’s like they couldn’t stand your existence. When you would be at the library helping out by staying late, they would wait after school, yes they would go out of their way to stay at school longer, to make sure that your walk home was as stressful as possible. Making fun of pretty much anything and everything you did was a normal occurrence. You had just learned to live with it, but not today.

You suddenly started to slow your pace. They are cowards, you thought. What can they possibly do? Always taunting, always calling names, always making you feel shit about anything you took interest in. But they were all talk, right? You thought, huffing out. People like them walk in groups because they can’t actually do anything alone. You don’t know what came over you, but you suddenly stopped and turned around slowly. The truck that the boys were trailing behind you also slowed and stopped a few meters away.

The one driving was Jimin, while Taehyung sat beside him and Jungkook stood, head poking out of the truck’s opening in the ceiling. You stood defiantly, shaking from the growing rain, your hair soaked and hands tightly by your side. Silently daring them to charge the truck towards you. ‘They won’t do it, they’re cowards’ you thought, your confidence growing slowly. You couldn’t tell where this adrenaline rush had come from to give you such courage to finally stand your ground, just a few weeks away from graduation. You could see Taehyung’s cunning, and terrifyingly psychotic grin widening as he relentlessly whispered in Jimin’s ear, whose grip on the wheel was tightening as he looked you right in the eyes. Jungkook was laughing. He apparently found the situation so amusing, that you decided now to grow a spine and challenge them. Suddenly, the sound of the engine revving was as loud as the rain.

It all went pretty much downhill from there. The last thing you remembered was your too loud heartbeat, the bright flash from the truck and Jungkook’s face suddenly forming a horrified expression as if he wasn’t just laughing at you.

Present day:

You weren’t looking for him specifically among the crowd flooding into the lecture hall. But something did happen inside you when you spotted him. A kind of lightness, or a lifting of some heavy part of yourself. Everything was settling into a nice, normal routine. You were going about your daily lives in an ordinary manner, and you were doing it completely separately.

He sat in the fourth row, and you sat at the back. Only now there was no rising sense of dread. You didn’t keep your hand to yourself when the lecturer asked a question. You answered, without the background sound of someone snickering. And even when it felt as though he was looking at you, when you snuck a glance at him you only ever saw the back of his head.

He bent low over his notes, and his head occasionally lifted a little as he really listened to whatever the lecturer was saying. Once or twice you actually caught him nodding, or doing a little staggered-looking half laugh over some ridiculous concept. As if he loved it all now.

He loved it so much he was sometimes at the lectures early. You would come in with Y/B/F, still giggling over something ridiculous, and get the faint prickle that told you he was already there. Only now when it happened it didn’t make you want to cover yourself up, or run and hide. There was nothing to hide from. Everything was going to be super cool and totally fine from here on in. Or it would have been, if it were not for the group project. The one that you were so excited for that you didn’t process it when your lecturer started reading out the names. You would be working with Y/B/F—that was a given. You were going to watch ridiculously filthy movies together and laugh about bobbing butts and ogle Ewan McGregor’s penis.

And then you heard his name.

Followed by yours.

Distantly, like in a dream of being in class.

“Miss Y/L/N, do you have a problem with that assignment?”

Everyone was looking at you now. No—not just looking. Examining, as though You had become a new and baffling species. The girl who was not excited about the idea of spending a whole semester with Jungkook. The creature who seemed horrified at the prospect of working with him. It made it difficult to do anything at all, even with Y/B/F urging you to say yes, yes I do have a fucking problem. Though you still didn’t expect the shake of your head to happen. Just one little accidental shake of your head and that was it. Your lecturer moved on to his next victim, leaving you in something You once had a nightmare about in ninth grade. Working with Jungkook. On a semester-long project.

About sex in cinema.

“Don’t worry, we can fix this. Just go to his office and talk to him privately about it. He would have to be Satan himself to not understand,” You heard Y/B/F whisper. But the words seemed even further away than you name had when your lecturer read it out.

“Right. Right. Yeah. You’re right.”

“I can come with you if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. That’s fine.”

“Are you sure? You look like you’ve been punched. In the face. With a small nuclear blast.”

“I’m sure,” You said, but soon came to regret that firmness in your voice. The steady nod that told Y/B/F it was okay for you to go in a different direction once you were outside. It only meant that you were on your own when you got to the tiny hallway outside your lecturer’s door.

And saw that Jungkook was already waiting. Of course he was—he probably had the same concerns as you. No matter how sorry he was or what he thought of being in the red and being wrong, he would never want to work in close quarters with you for the entire semester. In fact, him being sorry likely made the situation seem worse to him. Most likely he had calculated all the awkward conversations you guys would have to have and how far apart he would have to stand to keep you comfortable, and found it as unbearable as you did.

Even though his expression seemed to say something else.

Oh god. His expression was saying something else.

Then he held up his hands, as though to calm you.

And you knew.

“All right, Y/N, I know that you’re probably thinking it’s way better if you do this project with that gal pal of yours, but wait, okay? I got reasons why this is gonna be fine.”

“Is that seriously why you’re here? To stop me asking to switch us?”

“Well…no. Not stop you exactly. Stop is a really strong word.”

“While I’m glad you’ve learned that—” You said, your voice briefly catching when you saw his wince. He winced, your mind hissed, before you forced yourself to finish. “I still think it covers what’s happening here.”

“I just wanted to talk to you about it for a second. Just, like, hear me out.”

“I want to. I really do. But come on. You know I wasn’t born yesterday. This has all the hallmarks of some kind of trap or prank or joke at my expense.”

“How could it possibly be a trap or prank? He put people together based on…I don’t even know what he put people together based on. But it couldn’t have had anything to do with me.”

You searched his face, looking for the lie. Waiting for him to show some hint of bullshit, beneath those too-kind eyes and his spread hands and the obvious logic of what he was saying.

Only there was nothing, nothing, nothing.

And it made no difference at all.

“Okay, I buy that. I do. Yet the fact still remains: I cannot do a project with you. Ever. You have to know that doing anything like that is completely impossible for me. Right?”

“I was just thinking that maybe…maybe you could give it a chance. You know, now that we’re on speaking terms and everything is almost cool between us.”

“You think everything is cool between us?”

“Well, maybe not cool exactly. More like…okay.”

“Still need to dial it back a notch, chief.”

“Reasonable? Not bad? Kind of semi decent?”

“That last one is getting close.”

He sighed, shoulders sagging.

Relenting, you thought. He’s actually relenting.

“Fine, we are a fucking disaster.”

“Now you’re getting the idea,” You said.

“But I figure we can work on it.”

“By doing a project on sex in the cinema together?”

“Well,” he said. “When you put it like that it sounds dumb.”

“There’s no other way to put it! That is literally what you’re suggesting.”

“Yeah, I get that. I just…want to not get that. I want it to be easier or better or just not the way this is.”

“That could have been my daily prayer in high school, Jungkook.”

He didn’t react the way you expected to, with more weird arguing.

He just closed his eyes.

He closed them like someone had just told him his family had been in a fatal accident.

“I wish I could go back and start over again. More than wish—I would give everything I have to start over again. The wrestling, this scholarship, every party I ever went to and every fun thing I ever did. And you can choose to not believe me about that, but—”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“I’m as surprised as you are, but yeah.”

“Then why does this have to be such a big deal?”

You thought of Y/B/F saying attempted murder.

“Y/N that is fucking attempted murder. Babe, you don’t have to feel bad about anything you put him through now. His friends and him included, ran you over with a fucking truck. How much physio and other therapy sessions did you have to go through because of them, huh?”

The terror that used to flood you when he walked down the hall.

That ever-present sensation of a grille barrelling into your body.

“Because understanding that someone is truly sorry and wanting to spend huge amounts of time with them are two different things. I might see that you mean this, and know rationally that I can almost sort of trust you. Maybe I even want it to be that easy, too. But your face is the one I had nightmares about for two years. Your smile doesn’t seem happy to me. I associate it with cruelty.”

You shook your head. Glanced away from him so you didn’t have to see the defeated look on his face.

“It’s hard for me to look at you, Jungkook, no matter how much I appreciate what you’ve done here.”

“That was a really well-thought-out and logically sound speech.”

“I know it was. I’m pretty proud.”

“And I have no argument against it.”

“You don’t need one. What you’ve done here…” You gritted your teeth hard and looked at the ceiling. But this time it didn’t stop the tears. They were already welling up by the time You explained the rest to him.

“It means a lot. And a million men would never have done the same, I can promise you. I don’t have any messages from Jimin on my phone. Taehyung isn’t going to call anytime soon. It’s just you, a rare fantasy in the middle of all this dismal reality.”

He turned around when you were done. All the way around—and then his arms went up to cover his head and you understood. What you said had affected him, strongly. Maybe more than his words had affected you. It took him twice as long to get it together, and even after he had he couldn’t quite look at you. He just kept staring at the wall and clenching his jaw.

And saying things. Oh yeah, he said things, in a strained, shaky voice.

“I meant what I said, you know. That you are the very best.”

“I know. That’s why I’m going to ask you not to say it again.”

“I can’t stop. I have the opposite of whatever idiocy infected me in high school.”

“What, like insane-need-to-compliment fever?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he said.

“Well it has taken a raging hold of you, let me tell you.”

“I know it seriously cannot be stopped.”

“I think you have a terminal case.”

“Not a bad way to go, if you ask me,” he said, so soft and sincere it took all your strength to stop yourself smiling in response. You could feel your lips trembling. Your cheeks ached with the effort of pinning them down, yet still You knew you were failing. You could see it in his satisfied expression.

And hear it in his words.

“That’s better. Seeing you look happy.”

“I am happy,” You said, then added without thinking: “Are you?”

Of course you didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a polite habit, based on interactions with people other than Jungkook. People who had actual problems, who lived troubled lives, who might answer with a god no. Jungkook would never need to answer with a god no. His life was full of endless possibilities and unfettered glory. He could snap his fingers and have a thousand people follow him to the ends of the earth.

He even looked that way, in the dim light of the narrow hallway between these offices.His hair was the colour of dark chocolate. Every item of clothing suited him perfectly, from the rich grey-blue of his V-neck to the jeans he’d tucked into his timberlands. He exuded cool from every pore; he could have stepped off the cover of a magazine. Yet all you could see was his face as it slowly sagged. It was like watching someone cut the strings that had held a mask in place—a mask you hadn’t known he was wearing. You thought that smiling golden god who had tormented you was the real him, but for a second you couldn’t be sure. Just for one heart-rattling second, and then the door to the office opened and that glimpse of something else was gone—so fast You would imagine later that it had never existed. It was just a trick of the light.

Better to focus on the real and the now.

“What can I do for you two today?” Professor asked.

Then you took a breath and answered.

“Nothing,” You said.

A few weeks later:

After that day, you didn’t know how or why you suddenly decided to give working with him a try, but so far, it was going…. okay. You two met up at the library, took your notes, glancing at each other once in a while, mostly Jungkook, asking each other questions relevant to your awkward topic given the situation and that was that. He made jokes sometimes that managed to get out a few carefree laughs out of you as well. It was all… comfortable. Nothing that you had expected. That is why, you decided, it was time to move on to watching actual movies for references, in your project.

It was nearly one in the morning, on a Wednesday night when you went to get him as your friend was out and that was the only time Jungkook was free after wrestling practice. Everyone was in bed, and it gave an eerie feeling to your journey back to your dorm.

As did his silence.

He was always talking—You realized that then. Sometimes he practically kept up a running commentary on everything and anything, yet here he was as quiet as stone. And it wasn’t because he was exerting himself. He didn’t breathe hard once the whole time. He could have been carrying a backpack full of air. But the idea of mental trouble lingered. When you tilted your head a little, you could practically hear his mind going over and over things, in a way that just wasn’t like him. He was easy-going. Happy-go-lucky. He never worried about things the way you did.

Until now.

“Jungkook, are you okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You just seem a little…”

Like an ominous statue of yourself.

“I was just thinking what movie we should watch.”

“Oh. Oh. You mean…right now?” You asked.

“Well, that’s what you came to get me for.”

“That’s true, I did come and get you for that.”

“Unless you don’t want me in your room so late.”

“No, no why would I…no, that’s cool.”

“You’re in the Jubilee Building, right?”

You had the strongest urge to ask him how he knew. But that seemed just as weird as objecting to him being in your room.

“Yeah. You just go past the science block and then—”

“Right, right, right I got it, I got it. The statue of Heo Nanseolheon is outside it, yeah?”

“That’s the one. Then it’s the third floor. Don’t worry though, there’s an elevator.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t have been a big deal.”

“Do you wanna let me unlock the door?” you asked standing behind him when you both reached your dorm.

“Oh shit, yeah. Yeah, go ahead,” he said moving his bulky body out of the way as you slid past him to unlock the door. Everything had returned to the way it should be now between you and Jungkook.

Except for the sexy movie you were now going to watch.

Alone. Together. On your bed. In the middle of the night.

You let him pick the movie, thinking that would make things easier somehow. Nothing could be misconstrued, at least, that way. He wouldn’t think you meant anything by your choice, whatever it might be. But you forgot that he might mean something with his choice. You watched the heroine trying to clumsily pick up the hero at the start of White Palace, and cringed so hard it felt more like a cramp in your gut. Your cheeks grew hot, in a way that made you grateful for the dim light of your feeble bedside lamp.

Otherwise he would see your face go red and know you understood his point—despite the fact that his point was fucking nonsense.

“This is even less realistic than Dirty Dancing.”

“Really? You think so? Like, in what way?” You asked.

“It just seems like she keeps pushing and pushing. No woman would push a guy that good-looking if he didn’t seem into it. I can’t think of anything more embarrassing.”

You didn’t look at him, but knew he shrugged.

His arm rubbed against yours as he did it.

“Maybe she doesn’t care.”

“I guess not.”

“Maybe she knows he’s actually into it.”

“That could be one explanation.” Jungkook says, sighing.

“Plus she obviously gets exactly what she was looking for.” He adds.

Onscreen, Susan Sarandon was going down on James Spader.

Which to you didn’t seem to back up his point at all.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she’s having a great time getting absolutely nothing out of this.”

“That’s what this looks like to you? Like she’s getting nothing out of this?”

“Well, in movies they make it look like she is. But I doubt she really would be.”

“You doubt that giving a guy a blow job could be enjoyable for a woman.”

You glanced at him then, just to see if his expression was as incredulous as his voice.

Then had to look back at the screen quickly. If anything, his expression was worse. He had one eyebrow raised, and there was almost no humour in his eyes. This was serious somehow. Much too serious.

“I don’t know. I mean it’s not really something you do for your own enjoyment. You do it for his.”

“So to you there’s nothing pleasurable about it. Nothing sexy about having a guy at your mercy. Begging you, moaning for you, trying not to push too deep when it gets too good.”

Your breath hitched.

“You do those things?”

The words came out too fast. Too disbelieving, too.

But You just couldn’t stop them. They ripped out of you before you had time to talk it over with you mind, all ragged around the edges and maybe a little breathless. Just enough that he likely heard it, and wondered why. You couldn’t tell him, however. You didn’t know yourself. You only knew that when he started talking again, you had the urge to put your fingers in your ears.

“Of course I do those things. Having your cock sucked is fucking amazing,” he said, which was absolutely fine.

But then he kept going.

He kept going.

“The heat and the slickness and her looking up at you as she works it with her hands and lips and tongue. Especially the tongue. The tongue is the best part. Watching it curl right around the—”

“Well, okay, it sounds cool when you put it that way.”

God your voice sounded loud. And too fast again, too. All your words practically jumbled together.

“I don’t know what other way it could possibly be.”

“How about hold still while I fuck your face? Some guy coming right in your eye? Losing a chunk of hair because he pulled too hard?”

“You’re not serious. Tell me honestly. None of that happened.”

Now his voice was bright with amusement. But it didn’t make you feel any better.

“All of that happened. To me. More than once.”

“Yeah but after…”

“After what?”

“After he came then he…”

He made a circle with his hand bobbing his head, as though you should know that one thing logically followed on from the other. It was all completely easy and obvious.

Instead of the hardest quiz you had ever had to get through. “Then he what? Gave me cab fare?”

“No. No. After that then this happens.”

You glanced at the thing he was pointing at.

Then had to look away again, quick. At your hands, at the bedspread.

At him, as he oh-so-slowly realized what your sudden awkwardness meant.

“This has never happened to you. Holy shit. You’ve never had a guy go down on you.”

“I have had a guy go down on me. I totally have.”

“Are you sure about that? You don’t look sure.”

“Well, maybe not like this.”

“There’s no other way to do it. This is actually the most basic, ordinary way to go about eating pussy.”

At those words, you could feel the fire burning on your cheeks and your breathing getting laboured. Jungkook really had no filter.

“Yeah, but this seems really exciting and sexy and hot.”

“Going down on a girl is really exciting and sexy and hot. Like I said about giving a guy head? Exactly the same principle. You get to see you writhe and shake and push herself against your mouth. Just like that, just like Sarandon is doing. Look at her. Look at her.”

“I am. I am looking,” You said, but You weren’t, not really.

You were thinking of the shiver that had gone through you when he said look, soft as butter and so oddly tender. And the way that he was looking himself, eyes almost far away.

Like he was seeing Sarandon, but putting someone else in her place.

“Think about how it must feel.”

“Yeah I can…I get that…”

“Think about his tongue slowly easing over her soft folds.”

“Is that…how…is that what you…” You said, breathlessly “Uh-huh.”

“And it works?”

You voice was a whisper now. But that was okay. His was, too. It was so low he had to lean close to ask you questions. He had to meet your gaze, and You had to meet his.

“What works?”

“It makes you…you know. Cum.”

“Oh yeah. But you gotta take your time.”

“I see. I guess that makes sense.” You were just babbling now, trying to keep up with him.

“Let it build, nice and slow. Start by just stroking her with your fingertips. Work her, you know, until her lips part. And then when she’s all open to you, you just trace the shape of her with your tongue. Lick and lick in these ever decreasing circles until you’re right…fucking…there.”

“Where? Where…where are you?”

You shouldn’t have asked. You knew you shouldn’t as soon as it was out. Your faces were too close together now, and his body seemed to be looming over yours. That was his shoulder, almost nudging your chin. And his thigh, pressing deep and hard into yours. His answer was never going to make any of this better.

Then it came, hotter than molten lava and twice as destructive.

“Her clit. Her slick, swollen clit.”

“I see. That makes sense,” You said, even though that wasn’t what you wanted to go with.

No, what you wanted to go with was more like oh my fucking God this can’t be reality.

“Then you just…stroke it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Until she’s mindless.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Doesn’t even know what she’s saying anymore, or doing. She might tell you to bite, to fuck her with your tongue and fingers, harder or faster or some word that doesn’t even make sense. Hips coming up to meet you, greedy for it, horny for it, so horny she barely notices that her hand is in your hair and she’s squeezing tight enough for it to sting, so close to coming that her whole body is shuddering and shivering and flushing that deep, good pink. Soon as you see it you just know she’s burning. That her clit is aching and throbbing and her pussy is all open and slippery, and one more second of this will make her come. She’s already coming, before you even know where you’re at. Hard, hard, hard, like she never has before.”

You were holding your breath by the time he was done. You practically had to—his face was so close now you could have blinked and brushed his cheek with your eyelashes. Every word he said seemed to stroke against your face, cool at first but then more heated. As though he was starting to boil alive inside, too. Certainly he looked that way. You have never seem him flushed like this, not even when he pushed himself during a match.

Not even when he was embarrassed.

Though you supposed that wasn’t a common occurrence. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed now, and he’d just said all those words. He said clit and pussy and slippery, as if that was just a normal way to talk to your friend. And he did it all without flinching, too. Without glancing away or putting some distance between you. In fact, those eyes of his—now heavy lidded and so soft focus—seemed intent on you more than they ever had been before. They skittered all over you face, searching for something you had no idea how to give.

You didn’t even know what the something was.

You only knew that it made you forget yourself, just as he had described.

It made you search his face back, marvelling over every brutish line and gentle curve. Those lips of his, as plump as a girl’s yet so masculine at the same time. Every inch of them gleaming, as if he’d slicked them with gloss in anticipation of a kiss. Though even in that moment you didn’t really believe you wanted that. Until he whispered, low and heavy against your own lips.

“You can, you know.”

“Can what?”

“Touch yourself.”

It jolted you, when he said it.

But not as much as realizing why he said it.

You followed his gaze down, and took in the unmistakable sight of your hand in your lap. Really, really high up in your lap. Almost between your legs, in fact—though that was fine, it was cool, it was okay. You stuttered ‘no, no I didn’t really want to do that’, but it didn’t matter.

Because his hand was actually between his legs.

“I do,” he said.

As the whole world as You knew it dissolved right in front of your eyes.

“You do?”

“Fuck, yes. I’m dying to.”

“Because of the film. Because of the movie.”

“Sure. We can say that, if you want.”

You closed your eyes. Swallowed thickly.

Wished hard that he hadn’t added that last part.

“If we could that would be awesome.”

“No problem. I mean it was probably inevitable that this would happen to us.”

“Probably, yeah. Almost definitely, in fact.”

“Just a natural response to a sexy movie.”

“Seems that way to me.”

“So you just slip your hand under your waistband, and I’ll slip my hand under mine,” he said, which was fine all on its own. The problem was that he then went ahead and did it. You tried not to look, but saw anyway. You saw the way he fumbled in his haste, as though all his talk was only calm on the surface. Underneath, something was paddling frantically. It was making his cheeks pink and his body all trembly.

And his dick hard. God, his cock was hard.

You could see that without even trying at all. The curving shape beneath his sweatpants was enormous and unmistakable, and even if it hadn’t been, his hand made it pretty clear. As You watched, he eased it over that solid length, before finally clasping it in a way that shoved the swollen head right up against the tented material. Now You could make out ruder details, like the thick ridge around the head, and the slit at the tip. Both pronounced, explicit, rude.

But that wasn’t what really got you.

It was the way he stopped to lick his palm, before shoving it

under his waistband.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god, are you serious?”

“It’s cool. it’s fine. We don’t even have to look at each other.”

“No I guess not. I guess…I guess that I can just watch the screen.”

“We’re just two people getting off over a hot movie.”

“Exactly. Exactly.”

But that wasn’t strictly true. You weren’t getting off over the movie at all. Nothing was even happening anymore—it was just rich people looking down their noses and arguments over a Dust buster. If anything, it was vaguely depressing, rather than lust-inducing. Yet still You sat there, face burning, body tender and rigid all at the same time. Half of you stuffed so full of embarrassment and shock you sort of wanted to block everything out, the other half just shamelessly straining to hear every single tiny sound he made. Never daring to look, of course, but then…

You really didn’t need to.

He made so much noise that you could make out almost everything. Every little moan and gasp—and there were a lot of them, too. Lots of thick, guttural moans that started on an ah and ended with a kind of abrupt sigh, as though a knife had sliced through his throat before he could finish. So many soft mmms and gasps, like he honestly couldn’t get enough of whatever he was doing.

Though it was the whispers that hit you hardest. They got you right in the gut, low down and deep enough to ache. Oh yeah, he murmured, as though the hottest sex in the world was happening onscreen. As though they were fucking like animals, up and down and left and right. His tone even sounded sort of tremulous, and it got more intense as time went on. Soon he was panting, and rocking, and every now and then uttering something he was clearly imagining himself doing.

“Ah, yeah, suck my cock, just like that,” he said.

Then just to make it extra agonizing, he spat into his hand.

To make it extra slick, you thought, like someone’s mouth. Someone sucking him the way he’d described, slow and steady until he was actually shuddering, right here and now. The bed was moving, at least, and it wasn’t because he was working that cock hard. He wasn’t. He was going slow, so slow, squeezing and rolling rather than the short, fast kind of thing You’d always thought guys did. They almost never seemed to do anything else in porn…but then again they never did all this other stuff, too. You dared to turn you head a little more and saw to your astonishment that he had his hand pressed to his mouth. He was almost biting his fist, chest heaving, body shivering all over—but most important, eyes closed.

He couldn’t even see you looking. You were free to do as you pleased.Yet something held you back. You couldn’t seem to do more than peek out of the corner of you eye, and even that made you feel strange. You kept getting this clenching sensation—sort of like embarrassment or humiliation—and it got worse when his back arched. When he actually said out loud that he was almost there, that he was so close, that he was gonna come all over your duvet. I need something to do it on, he said, and even that had a shameful frisson of its own. You had a brief flash of him kneeling up and suddenly coming all over your face, or maybe pulling down that ridiculously large neck hole to expose your breasts.

Followed by an image of that thick white liquid coating you, striping you face, dripping off your tight little nipples. Him pushing his cock past your lips to finish off, groaning as he flooded your mouth.

And he would have flooded it, too. You glanced at him just in time to see him shove his sweatpants down, that big dick swelling under the pressure of his too-tight grip. Thick ribbons of come already hitting his bared belly, over and over until you were sure he must be done. He had to be, yet more kept flowing over his still-working fist. You watched it run down over his fingers in slippery trails before pooling in his lap.

Though none of it was what you kept seeing behind your eyes in the aftermath. Instead, you saw the way his face had looked as he shot his load. The open mouth, and the closed eyes, and most of all the strange, wrenching vulnerability that had covered him for a moment. No mischief, no macho bullshit—just a completely open and abandoned sort of ecstasy.

And all of it for you.

He knew you had watched him. He still knew now. You flicked your eyes back to the screen as he started to catch his breath, but the first thing he did was include you.

“Guess I kind of made a mess here,” he said, everything about his tone suggesting two conspirators, finishing off their evil deed. You even got up after he’d said it, to get him a tissue.

Though when You got back he’d pretty much taken care of most of it.

You stopped in the doorway to the bathroom at the sight: Him, casually licking his messy fingers.

It took you a good two minutes after that to go over to him, with your fistful of toilet paper. And when you did go, it was on very shaky legs. Your whole body felt shaky, in fact—though not in any way you’d experienced before. This was like being full to the brim with something burning hot, skin so close to ripping that it couldn’t keep still. Sometimes you thought you could see it shivering slightly under the strain, and every inch of it was tender, so tender. His leg brushed yours as you sat down, and it was agony. You even winced—then immediately regretted it.

He had been concentrating on clean-up. Now he looked up at you sharply.

And asked questions You were loathing to answer.

“Have you…not? I mean have you not—”

“I couldn’t. I’m sorry, I couldn’t.”

“God, you must be bursting.”

“Honestly, I’m fine.”

The problem was though; you didn’t seem fine.

You couldn’t meet his gaze. Your hands were fists on your thighs.

And of course he could see all of that.

“You look like you’re bursting.”

“Oh yeah? And what does bursting look like?”

“Your voice is shaking.”

“Is it?” You asked, voice so light it almost passed.

Almost, almost, almost.

“Your cheeks are flushed.”

“Are they?”

“And then there’s the fact that your nipples are like diamonds. Fuck, look how stiff they are. Isn’t that agonizing, having them like that? I bet your clit’s the same. Bet your pussy is so wet. So wet you’re making a mess of the nice, clean clothes.”

Your cheeks grew hotter and hotter as he whispered each word. By the time he was done they felt like they were going to melt right off you face. That tense, cringing feeling in your stomach was ten times worse, and that was before he got to the last point. The one about the clothes, and the mess, and oh god what if he was right? It felt as if he might be. You weren’t wearing any underwear, and everything was really slippery between your legs. You could feel it, every time You moved.

“Oh fuck, sorry, sorry I don’t…I hope…it’s just that—” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing

“Honey, you don’t need an explanation.”

His tone was like sinking into a warm bath—and the thumb you could feel stroking over you forearm only pulled you deeper down. He just did it so idly. So like he wasn’t touching you at all.

Before you knew it, you were up to your ears in liquid heat.

“Are you sure? Because it kind of feels like I do.”

“I’m sure. I mean, the movie was pretty intense.”

“Right, exactly. Super intense.”

“So why deny yourself?”

“I’m not…denying…anything.”

“I could leave, if you want.”

“No, god no,” You said, too fast and too fierce.v

Though it was only afterward that you realized how it sounded: Not like someone trying to say you didn’t want to masturbate. Like someone saying that you wanted him to stay.

And he took it that way, too.

“Or, you know. I could just…do it for you,” he said.

Then you just had to do your best not to go out of your mind.

You stopped herself from jumping up. Kept your hands from flailing.

Didn’t look at him, in case looking made you do something crazy.

“Oh my god. You can’t be serious. You can’t be serious.”

“Probably wouldn’t take a lot.”

“I always take a lot.”

“Even when you’re alone?”

“Especially when I’m alone.”

“Well, maybe we should see about that.”

Again, you had the urge to get up. Maybe you even would have, if it hadn’t been for the other things he was doing. The thumb stroking your arm was now the back of his hand, running the length of your arm over and over. And that was his breath against the curve of your throat, so close and warm he could have been kissing you there. It felt like kissing.

Only without the scariness of the real thing.

All of this was without the scariness of the real thing. It was just a game, that was all—and one that you could win if you really put you mind to it. He thought he could get you so easily, but he was utterly and completely wrong. You were a rock, in the face of whatever he was going to do. You were impervious to the pleasure he seemed to think he was going to dole out, to the point where you almost laughed when he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of those too-big sweatpants.

It was weird. Slightly uncomfortable.

Not sexy in the least.

And then his fingertips just oh-so-lightly grazed the pouting lips of your swollen pussy, and things pretty much started to go downhill from there. The sensation it sent through you was just so intense, and over something so small. He hadn’t even slipped between them to your clit, or eased a finger into your slick little hole. In truth, you weren’t entirely sure he’d touched you at all.

Yet you still had to clench your jaw.

You had to tell herself that it was just the stuff that had happened before—the film and him coming and then licking his fingers like a satisfied cat. It wasn’t anything to do with this right now, with him touching you, with his skill. He wasn’t skilful at all. He was terrible. Awful.

he worst lover you had ever had.

You had no idea why your thighs were trembling. Or what made you moan when he finally, finally, finally eased his fingers into that slick slit, and then topped it off by telling you just what he found there.

“Ohhhh fuuuuck you are wet. You’re so wet. Jesus Christ, Y/N, how can you stand it? How can you sit still and quiet with those eyes closed when your pussy is like this? So slippery I can just glide all the way down and ease on in and oh man, oh man,” he said, and all You could do in response was shiver and make a number of embarrassing noises. First for his words, and then oh god then for the feel of him doing it.

He used two fingers—two of those long, thick fingers—yet somehow it didn’t hurt when he pushed into you. There was no fumbling or searching. Your body just seemed to open for him, as though they’d dated for years and he’d worked on you for hours. He knew exactly how to touch you there, and when he did you simply had to respond. Your gasp rung out in the small room.Though you vowed it would be the last one. That was it now—you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of anything else. Not even when he started working his fingers in and out, slow and steady and so unbelievably good. you kind of wanted to cry over the unfairness of it. Why was he the one who had to be so good at this? How did he know how to do it in this deliberate, teasing, tantalizing way?

Even watching him do it was exciting. You made the mistake of glancing down and all you could see was his hand rolling beneath the material, the waistband occasionally stretching to give you a glimpse of your glossy cunt, his gleaming fingers, the way you were spread around that thick intrusion…

Fuck.

You had to look at the screen just to stop yourself coming right then and there—though even those measures had an exciting quality of their own. James Spader was just doing something incredibly dull now, while you sat here watching through slitted eyelids, cheeks flushed and legs spread, as a man slowly fingered your slick, flushed pussy. Back and forth, back and forth, until you were so beside yourself you weren’t sure you even wanted to hold back your moans. You only knew that you were still trying, for reasons that seemed vague and far away now. It just doesn’t matter, your mind hissed, but you kept it up anyway. You held yourself more tightly and bit deep into your lip—deep enough that you tasted blood. And when he started to ease those fingers up, you shut your eyes tight. You thought of other things, more boring things: dry books and bird-watching. All to no avail. He made one circle around your clit.

Just one tiny, insignificant circle, and that was it. Your orgasm rolled up from that stiff little bud, in one all-consuming and all-powerful wave. It took away your control over your body—your toes curled tight and your back arched. But most important, it took away your control over your mouth. It let one little word slip out.

Though one little word was more than enough.

“Jungkook,” You said, and after that the game was pretty much up. That was gratitude in your voice and pleasure in the sigh behind it, and all wrapped in the neat little bow of his name. There was no more pretending that it wasn’t him who had made you feel this way, or suggesting that all of this was just a game.And he knew it immediately. He kept up the thrusts of his long, thick fingers, helping you prolong the feeling of your orgasm for as long as possible. And he didn’t stop there. Your face was starting to contort from the oversensitivity and it was obvious that Jungkook knew it too from the way he bit his lip and started to purposely move his fingers faster once again.

“Ahh! J-Jungkook… I can’t….” You moaned out, though this seemed to have no effect on him as he seemed determined to elicit another orgasm from you. His fingers scraping against your tightening walls as they fought to repeatedly slam back inside you. Your thighs were shaking, your eyes half lidded, leaning back on your hands as his worked between your legs. Suddenly you gripped Jungkook’s moving hand as you came dangerously close to letting go.

“That’s it, fuck, cum again for me Y/N. I need this. You need this” He almost sounded desperate and it made you want to sob because everything was so fucking hot.

With a cry of his name, you came undone again, your body almost curling in towards itself from the sensitivity.

“Holy shit, holy shit,” he said, as though you’d cried out the filthiest thing on the face of the earth. And, again, he didn’t stop there. You could hear him fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants already—though you tried to turn it into something else in your head. He was just pulling them up, you thought. They had slid down as he serviced you, that was all.

Only it wasn’t all.

When you made the mistake of glancing his way, you saw so much more than you were ready for. It was supposed to be over now, completely over, but he’d shoved everything down to mid-thigh and his cock was in his hand again and god god god why was it so arousing? You’d had cum twice already. He’d had one orgasm already, and now he was being so fucking filthy.

Yet somehow the filthiness only made it worse.

You came searingly close to telling him yes.

And go on.

And come all over me—just like you’d imagined.

For one wild second, it even seemed like he might. He was groaning and panting and he kept saying things, incredible things like “do you see what you do to me do you get how fucking horny you make me oh fuck just hearing you moan my name”. His hand was heavy on your shoulder, and you knew he was close. He was going to yank your top down any second now.

Any second, you thought.

Though you didn’t realize how much you wanted it until the first thick burst slid over his fist.

Didn’t know how little control you had over herself until he grunted your name and shuddered violently, that slick fluid easing over his still-pumping fist. After all, if you’d had any you would have stayed right where you were, content to just watch.Instead of leaning forward to take that heavy, swollen, slippery head in your mouth, to catch the last ribbons of his salt-sweet cum all over your eager tongue.

“Fucking fuck, Jagiya” Jungkook cursed loudly, watching you take the head of his cock in your mouth. He slid his hands in your hair, gripping it from the bottom of your skull gently, rocking your face back and forth, riding out the last of his high. You looked up at him, eye still glassed over, breathing hard and laboured and slid the head of him out of your mouth.

There was no doubt that Jungkook was shocked at your boldness but he seemed pleasantly surprised. His pupils blown out, lips swollen, skin gleaming. He truly was a work of art. The magnitude of what you two had done hit you hard. So, naturally, there was only one thing left to do in panic.

Kick him out.

“Jungkook…you need to leave”

A/N: So, Idk what happened but yeah hope you all enjoy. Not sure if I’ll make this a series since I’m bad at continuing ideas. I may stick to separate scenarios. I get bored easily. However, please feel free to check out my blog and send me ideas for new fics

What if He Freaks? (B. Barnes x Reader)

Word Count: 2386

Warnings: smut, daddy kink.

A/N: I didn’t read this over, please point out any mistakes.

Steve had ushered you, Natasha and Wanda up to your room, telling you to “bond” and “relax” he was literally like the scolding parent. You all agreed that it would be nice to have a girls night and as most sleepovers go, you ended up drunk talking about your love lives and your impossible crushes.

Wanda was going on about Vis and how certain things would work, while you and Natasha were talking about Steve and Bucky, the dynamic duo.

“So, Natasha, if could sleep with either Steve or Bucky, who would you pick?” Natasha had to think, but she ended up picking Steve as you thought she would. Both your heads turned to Wanda, who blushed profusely.

“I’m spoken for.” She said, her light accent slipping towards the end of her sentence. Natasha wasn’t fazed, but you were momentarily shocked.

“I knew you and Vision had suppressed feelings, but you’re together now?!” She laughed and nodded and you smacked her arm.

“Tell me sooner next time, yeah?”

“What about you Y/N?” You had to think.

“Steve.” You answered after much thought.
“I feel like he’d be better. Bucky has been through… too much, he’d be … nervous.” You finished.

There was a pause and then Nat spoke up.
“I feel like Bucky has a Daddy kink.”

You nearly spit out your drink at the thought.

“Now, I really wanna call him Daddy, but what if he freaks out.” You said, recovering.

Both Wanda and Nat were laughing at the idea of the Winter Soldier freaking out over a silly nickname, but it was a serious concern. What if you called him Daddy as a joke and he got mad.

Why should you care? You decided you would do it.

“Alright alright, Y/N, truth or dare?” Wanda asked. You smirked, feeling brave.

“Dare.” The two girl exchanged looks and you knew you’d made a bad decision

“I dare you to ask Steve out.” You sighed in relief.

“Oh that’s not so bad.”

“With Bucky there, and you have to be flirty about it.”

“Well that’s a little bit worse, but I’ll do it.” They both watched you expectantly.
“N-not right now! Guys it’s two am!” You scolded. It was time to sleep, you’d all be nursing light hangovers in the morning, or afternoon, depending on when you woke.

None of you had hangovers as bad as you’d expected, except Wanda, who woke suddenly and rushed to the bathroom. After Wanda cleaned up and took some Advil she looked at you with pleading eyes.

“You should ask Steve out to dinner tonight, it’s Saturday and neither of you have any plans.” You agreed seeing as it was the only way to get the girls to leave you alone.

Your little trio took the lift down to the kitchen and you immediately spotted Steve and Bucky talking. You plastered a flirtatious smile on your face and walked over to the two soldiers.

“Hey Steve, can I talk to you for a moment?”
Both boys glanced at you for a moment before Steve answered.

“Of course Y/N. What’s up?”

“Are you free tonight, I was hoping you’d accompany me to dinner?” The intimidating super soldier was momentarily flustered.

“Y-you mean like a date?” Your smile brightened.

“Yeah, like a date.” He nodded.

“I’d love to. Uhm, I’ll come pick you up at 6?”

“That’s perfect.” You turned to the girls who were pretending not to listen. You sat at the table and they both pryed you for details. You answered all of their questions until eventually, they left you alone. You took the stairs this time, taking your time going back to your room. It was almost six and you needed at LEAST 15 minutes to get ready for your date. You didn’t bother showering, you had done that this morning, but you did put on makeup. You threw on the dress Nat had laid out for you and admired the finished product. You looked stunning.

Steve was on time, as you’d expected. What you didn’t expect was for him to be the perfect gentleman, he even brought you flowers. He held the door to your car after insisting that he drive because he already picked a restaurant.

When you arrived, Steve ran around the car to let you out, against your protests. He even linked your arm with his.

“For someone with no experience with girls, you’re surprisingly good at this.” His face flushed red and he thanked you, obviously pleased that you approved.

The date went smoothly, since you were already friends you discussed missions (wow what a great date topic) and your lives. You honestly had a great time and you were pretty sure Steve did too.
Since you didn’t have an apartment for him to drop you at, he walked you to the door to your room. You both stopped and turned to look at each other.
“I had a great time tonight Y/N, thank you for taking me out.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, I had fun too.”
He looked down at you and stepped forward, taking your hip and pulling youa bit closer, he leaned down and captured your lips in a soft kiss. You kissed back a bit harder, telling him it was okay. When you realized what was happening, you pushed him away.
“I’m sorry Steve, I-I can’t. I have to go.” You hung your head and retreated into your room. You stripped from your dress and put on shorts and a sweater.
You couldn’t sleep, you were tossing and turning, but you felt really bad. You tossed your blankets off and walked to your desk, taking parchment and a pen. You couldn’t just leave Steve hanging, so you wrote him a note.
Hey Steve, I had a great time last night and that kiss was great, but I don’t like you as anything more than a friend. I’m sorry that I lead you on like that and I hope we can stay friends.
From Y/N

You walked the hall, following the familiar path to Steve’s room. You slipped the paper under his door and made your way downstairs, maybe some tea would help you sleep.

You were relieved that no one was in the kitchen, otherwise you’d have to explain what had happened on your date. You grabbed a tea bag out of the box on the counter and put some water in the kettle. As high tech as Tony’s kitchen was, you preferred to do things the old fashioned way.
You were fiddling with the tea bag and almost jumped out of your skin when you looked up. Bucky was standing in the door frame. You cocked your eyebrow at him.

“What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He said quietly. You moved out of his way so he could grab an apple from the fruit bowl behind you.

“How was your date?” He questioned, eyeing you out of the corner of his eye.

“I don’t know, I had a great time, but I don’t think I like Steve like that. I think I have feelings for someone else” Bucky halted his actions.

“But you kissed him?” Your face flushed red.

“You saw?” His jaw clenched.

“Yeah. You don’t like Steve because you have feelings for someone else, who would that be?” Your eyes widened a fraction and you flushed red, stuttering to find an answer. You couldn’t outright say it was him, that’d be too embarrassing. So instead you stuttered to find and answer.

Bucky smirked and you flushed even harder because it was evident that he knew.

“Oh c'mon, it’s just me, doll, nothing to be nervous about.” He took a step closer and your heart stopped.

“You can tell me.” He said, stepping closer and placing a hand on your waist. You back into the counter, your face was the color of flame and you couldn’t find the words to speak.

The kettle broke into a whistle and the air rushed back to you, you ducked out of Bucky’s constricting grasp and spun to grab your cup. You had your back turned to him, pouring the boiling water over the tea bag, you couldn’t believe how much you were shaking and you nearly dropped the cup when Bucky’s hand was placed over yours to help steady you. You placed the pot back on the stove and leaned on the counter, facing the man with the metal arm.

The smirk he gave you spoke volumes and you tried to smile back.

“I’ll just be going then, back to bed.” He said, turning on his heel. You debated whether or not to call after him, you wanted company, especially if it was his.
“Wait.” You called at his retreating figure.
“Stay.” You said, barely suppressing a whimper.

“Now that’s what I wanted to hear.” He said, his voice deep and gravely. He turned back around and walked towards you, he took the mug gently from your hand, placing it on the table a few feet away.

“Hey! I was drinking that!” I scolded.

“You’re not anymore.” He stated with finality. The dominance in his voice had the heat pooling between your legs and you knew you were done for.

He positioned himself between your legs and brought his hand to your waist, pulling you flush against him. You gasped at the sudden contact, almost loosing your footing. He brought his other hand up to steady you and slowly leaned down. He stopped when his lips brushed yours, asking for permission. You leaned up into him, giving him all the permission he needed. The second your lips touched he trailed his hands down your back until they were resting on the backs of your legs. A sign for you to jump. You did as he asked and he hoisted you up, hooking your legs around his hips. A soft moan escaped your lips when he attached his lips to the sensitive spot on your neck.

“We can’t do this here, sugar, let’s take this to my room.” He suggested. Words failed you, so you nodded, detatching yourself from him and taking his hand instead.

You abandoned your tea and walked hand in hand with Bucky down the corridor in complete silence, you didn’t need words. He was rubbing comforting circles over your knuckles.

He opened his door gently, making sure not to wake the whole tower. You smirked to yourself and slamed the door behind you, pushing him up against the door and capturing his lips with his own.

He gasped at your sudden dominance, grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against him.

He slid his hand up under your sweater and you raised your arms for him. He threw it across the room and then followed it with his own shirt.

He only let you marvel at his body for a moment before he brought himself back to you, picking you up. He carried you to the bed and dropped you, taking a step back to admire you.

“You look so good laying there for me, doll. Take your shorts off.”

You did as you were told, stripping yourself of the constricting garment. He watched your every movement with lust-filled eyes. He dropped his pants in one fluid movement, stepping out of them.
Your eyes dropped to the massive bulge in his pants and you heard him laugh. He straddled your hips, trailing kisses from your neck down.  You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his face back you yours, kissing him passionately.

One hand dropped from his hair to his boxers as you palmed him through the fabric, he groaned and you could feel him twitching beneath your touch.

“Fuck doll, you gotta stop” you did as you were told, instead, pulling down his boxers and wrapping your small hand around his cock. He inhaled sharply, tensing under your touch. He pulled your hand away and for a moment you were discouraged.

He laid a chaste kiss on your cheek and whispered in your ear.

“You first.” The bed shifted as he got off, kneeling next to the end. He adjusted you so that your legs were around his neck.

“I like this view.” He added and you blushed at the comment, choosing not to answer. He placed a kiss on your clothed core, causing you to buck your hips upwards. He laughed and removed your panties, placing another kiss, but this time he held your hips in place. He licked his way from your entrance to your clit, nibbling on the bundle of nerves.

His eyes never once left your face, when you moaned his name he stopped, you groaned at the loss of contact and opened your eyes. Bucky had a stern look on his face.
“What’d wrong Buck?’ You questioned.

“That’s not my name tonight. You call me ‘Daddy’, understand?” The combination of his deep voice and the dominance had you shell shocked.

“Y-yes Daddy.” You ignored the embarrassment of him obviously overhearing you and instead enjoyed his praise. He went to work on your chest, massaging your hardened nipples with both hands.

“Do you like that doll?”

“Yes, Daddy, please, more.” You begged.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not done yet.”

He lined himself up with your entrance and slid himself into you. You gasped, adjusting to his size. He paused a moment, letting you adjust before he pulled out, slamming back into you not a second later. He transitioned between soft and hard, looking for your g spot, when he hit it you moaned his name, loudly.

“Tell Daddy how much you love to feel him slamming into you”

“I love it Daddy, please, harder."  He groaned and slammed into you at an alarming rate, both of you were chasing your high. The sound of your moans and the slapping of skin resonated through the empty room. The bubble that had been building in your stomach popped and you bucked your hips upward, screaming Bucky’s name. Not long after you felt the warmth if his seed on your stomach and his body collapsing next to you. You both sat, catching your breath.

Bucky spoke up in the silence.

"Let’s get you cleaned up, baby girl.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Tags:

@magellan-88

for @fauvistfly, who wanted something with pining and stiles being a singer

rated T, 2.3k also on AO3 here 

It’s four am and the diner is quiet. Derek finishes wiping down a table; life as usual, he’s alone, he’s at work, everything goes on as it does. He refills coffee for the two tired-looking truckers sitting at the counter and goes back to refilling the salt shakers.

The last time Cora was home, she’d asked if he and Laura ever considered selling the place. “Doesn’t do much business,” she said, trying to be gentle. Say it was okay to let go. But she’d only been a baby when the accident happened that took their parents; she didn’t have memories growing up here the way Derek and Laura did, playing hide-and-seek under the counters, watching their dad bake pies and their mom fill coffee, listening to travelers talk about their lives on the road.

Hale’s is fifty miles from the nearest town in either direction, a blink-and-miss-it diner still stuck in the ‘50s, right off the Pacific Coast Highway. The little town of Beacon Hills is an hour away, so almost all the patrons are travellers, people looking for respite from the road, on their way up to the redwoods or heading down to San Francisco and Los Angeles. There’s a little wall of autographs from famous people who’ve dined here; cowboys and starlets and authors and people Derek’s parents took a shine to. The diner is a historic landmark, not to mention it’s always been home to Derek.

So Laura manages the day shift and Derek does the night. It works out well; he doesn’t have to interact with people much. He and Laura were homeschooled until high school, and Derek had found Beacon Hills High School overwhelming with its crowds.

The radio starts a new song; it’s one of Derek’s favorites. He doesn’t remember the name of the artist, but it makes Derek feel alive. The song lyrics aren’t particularly sensual, but the man’s voice is— Derek shudders, feeling his blood run hot under his skin, and he imagines the warm touch of someone pulling him close, embracing him, kissing him—

“Can I take this coffee to go?”

“Oh. Sure,” Derek says, pouring the trucker’s coffee into a plastic cup.

They leave him a decent tip and are off, the bell jingling as they go.

Derek sighs, watching the moonlight dance across the ocean in the distance. He listens to the rustling of the trees, and occasionally a car will drive past the diner, lights blaring.

He turns off the radio and hums the song to himself as he sweeps up.

There’s longing here, of a love long lost, and Derek is lost to the song, to the memories it drags up.

Nothing but the sound of waves crashing on the shore, the white hot sun burning just beyond Derek’s closed eyes. He can feel the warm body next to him stir awake, and then fingers carding through his hair.

“Derek… hey. You awake?”

“Nope,” Derek says, and he can already picture it: Stiles leaning over him, his hair still wet, eyes bright with laughter.

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Tantalizing: 05

Originally posted by jikookfantasy

Tantalizing: 01 02 03 04 05 06 07
Ship: Jungkook | Reader
Description: Back in high school, you were nothing more than a nerd Jungkook wanted to deflower, to get a good fuck from. When he sees you at the club, though, things have changed drastically, and his dominance starts to teeter on the edge.
Warning: Sub!Jungkook, Sex Toys, Degrading Names, Choking, Spanking, Slight BDSM, Handjob, Oral, Orgasm Denial, Exhibitionism, Fingering, Gagging, Blinfolding, Slight Violence? Slight Angst?
Word Count: 7,599

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Dean’s Doc

Originally posted by ellen-reincarnated1967

Summary: Reader has a new patient Dean who comes in handy when she least expects it…

Pairing: Dean x Therapist!reader

Word Count: 1,800ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Quote for this one was, “It’s a horror show up here,”…


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Train Rides: Young!James Potter x Reader *Smut*

A/N: Okay, so, this wasn’t suppose to go out until after ‘Wait For Me’ part two, but I’m like, physically and mentally not able to write that right now, and I don’t know why, so I just decided to finish this. Oh and also, I decided to post this tonight instead of tomorrow cause it was basically done, ops. 

If you didn’t read the title, this is a smut, this is also my first attempt at writing smut so, it may not be fantastic. I apologize if it doesn’t go into great detail or anything, like I said, I’m new to writing smut so this was really awkward for me to write, but I had to start somewhere, soz.

As smuts go, please do not read this if you’re uncomfortable with sexual situations, it’s tots fine to skip out on this one, my dude. 

Anyway, Enjoy! ♥

Word Count: 1504

Warnings: Mild Smut, Fluff(ish)

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Varsity Jackets and Peaches. - Part 1

–words: 6k

warning: grinding

Summary; Dan Howell hates him. He hates that black haired boy that wears a varsity jacket and smells like peaches and oh goes by the name Phil Lester. He takes joy out of ruining Dan’s life and he hates him. Well he hates him until a round of spin the bottle commences.

read part two here

     “Were going to be late!” Dan exclaimed.

Jesse rubbed his eyes and stuffed his books into his bag. He shut his locker just as Dan pulled him down the hall. Someone with red hair decided that he wanted to sleep in this morning and forget to pick his best friend up like he did every morning.

“It’s only Ms. Rogers class, calm down.” Jesse mumbled.

“Don’t tell me to calm down.”

Jesse rolled his eyes and let Dan pull him down the hall.

—-

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The Boss’s Cold Heart (M) | Chapter 1

Originally posted by sugamysavagebaby

Pairing: Jimin x reader
Genre: angst, smut
Word count: 5.5k
Description: You worked for Park Jimin and his cold heart but it turned hot once you proofed him that you actually were a good employee.

Chapters: One | Two 

Notes: This will be a series with a few chapters. Next chapter will follow soon. Hope you enjoy reading! And if there are any mistakes or if it’s not good, then please tell me. I’ll be glad! 


„What? A meeting with Park Jimin?“ you stuttered and you could barely breathe.

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Hatefuck C.H.

This imagine is based on this song. 

You can read part 2 here

Trigger Warning: it contains smut and swearing 

Word count: 2,5k+

A/N: I’m thinking about doing a second part to this. Should i? Anyway, hope you like it.  


Heartbreak.

That was the only thing I could feel in that moment. Life was slipping through my fingers and I couldn’t do anything about it. All I could seem to do was sitting on the floor, trying to stop the tears from falling.

Numbness came right after. The tears had already dried; my swollen eyes could hardly see anything. I heard the noise that came from the TV, my chest hurt. Everything was a blur, and not only because I couldn’t see anything because of the tears, but because my mind wasn’t even thinking straight. Trying to steady my breathing, I looked around my apartment. There were smashed dishes lying around the floor, a few picture frames also accompanied them.

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Alphabet Game

This is very long so click the read more!!

A— Arguments:

When Barry’s angry he tends to shut everyone around him out. After a squabble with you, he’d storm out to clear his mind, allowing both of you a good amount of time to calm down before he returns and you two can actually talk things through.

We all also know that Barry is a crier so it’s highly possible that he would break down into tears when either he or you try to apologize. But the night would definitely end with some I’m sorry cuddles or some makeup sex.

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That Was Not Acting - Cody Christian imagine

Summary: Y/n is an actress, she stars as Theo’s beta on Teen Wolf and has been for the past 1 ½ years. Her character Rebecca is required to have a steamy make out session with Theo leading into other things. No one knows that both Y/n and Cody are actually in a serious relationship until now.

Warning: Steamy make out sesh,kinda fluff and suggested smut.

A/N: gif credit to their respected owners ps ignore the fact i used Scallison as a gif it was the closest to my imagination XD

Originally posted by asplittingoffrerard

MASTERLIST


The day started like any other I arrived on set at a quarter to 8 as I always did, as usual Shelley and Tyler were on set first. I parked my car,grabbed my phone and bag then made my way out locked the car and went on with my way.

“Hey Y/n,on time as usual” Tyler greeted “that’s my girl” Shelley embraced me sweetly “So whatcha wanna do till showtime?” I asked “I dunno how bout pull a prank?” Tyler smirked wickedly “yes totally” Shelley moved her hands like a wicked scientist “but who?” I wondered “well we’ve done Dylan,Sprayberry,Ryan,Victoria-” Tyler began but Shelley cut him off “Khylin,Michael, Ian,J.R,Melissa,Holland,Each other” I pondered “Cody..we haven’t done Cody” I smiled nervously “that’s so true” Tyler exclaimed “let’s get a move on it he gets here by before 9″ Shelley expressed.

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Knuckles : Boxer!Ashton (Part 5)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

“Calum!” you call after walking into the kitchen, spraying cleaner on the counter and drying it down with a rag. “It’s your turn to take the garbage out.”

“One second,” he says back, followed shortly with an unrelated, “Oh, shit.”

A moment later you glance up to see him emerge from his bedroom, shirtless, and holding in his hand a toothbrush with bristles coated in white paste.

Your arm continues to circle the counter with the rag, using slightly less elbow grease now that you’ve been distracted. “What?”

“Water’s out in my room,” he answers casually, as if it’s a reoccurring inconvenience that he’s come to expect over time. He reaches across the counter to dampen his toothbrush with the kitchen’s faucet, then proceeds to scrub his morning breath away.

“How does it just go out in one room?” you question, turning to use the same cleaner on the front of the refrigerator.

“Dunno,” Calum mutters with a mouth full of foam. Your ears catch the sound of him spitting into the sink.

“I just cleaned that.”

“And you did a great job.”

You cast an annoyed glare over your shoulder.

“Anyway, cool if I use your shower?” Calum asks, smiling at the silent threat.

The ownership you have over anything in the apartment still sounds odd to you when put into words, almost always forcing you to pause with the need to correct Calum before remembering he’s making sense. You guess you haven’t quite settled in to your newest living arangment yet, still in the habit of referring to it as Calum and Ashton’s place. You only unpacked your last box a few weeks ago, a short while after Ashton left for Las Vegas to pursue the boxing training Dennis Serrant had to offer.

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A Gifted Chef

I was lucky enough to be the next-door neighbor of a world-class chef. Like, legit world class. Like, Michelin star class. Yeah. The real deal. Stewart Therriault. Maybe you’ve heard of him.

One of the benefits of living near Stewart was getting to try all the sumptuous, creative dishes he’d make whenever he was home. Seriously, the guy cooked all the time. As soon as I’d see the lights go on in his house, it was only a matter of time before thick, luscious aromas wafted into my home. And, because he was a great guy, he’d often bring over a plate or two for me to try. “It’s all practice for the restaurant,” he told me.

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Ice Ice Baby (Lin x Reader)

Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

TW: very little swearing

Summary: You injure yourself while rehearsing as Angelica and Lin insists on accompanying you to the hospital

Word Count: 2,639 

“Pippa!” Your fingers fumbled with the back of your pink dress as you sighed. It was only the first day of tech week and you already wanted to punch something.

Pippa inched her head through the small opening in the door to your dressing room, a giggle peeking through her lips. “Yes?”

A low noise of frustration escaped your throat. “How do you get this damn thing on?” You swiftly turned around to see Pippa already fitted in her baby blue dress. “What? How did you do that?!”

Pippa let out a hearty laugh as she gestured for you to turn around. “A magician never reveals her secrets, Y/N.”

“You know, everyone says you’re sweet and pure, but I think there’s something under that going on. Some sort of evil sorcery that allows you to be able to put on any dress with ease.”

She hummed in response. “So…” You felt her delicate fingers work with the complex backing of your dress. “You and Lin, huh?”

Your eyes darted around the room as your mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to say. “What about us?”

“I mean, when are you gonna tell him?” She whispered, a mischievous grin falling on her face.

“Tell him what?”

“You know.”

Your shoulders slumped; you did know. You and Lin weren’t in a relationship, as much as you wished you were. You had had a massive crush on the man who seemed to hold all the stars in his bright eyes since you auditioned for the role of Angelica. The feeling had washed over you too quickly and all at once when you first settled your eyes on him. He seemed aware and interested in everything you had to say and every move you made, as if he was afraid to forget it.

“Yeah.” You grumbled. “I don’t know, I’m sure he doesn’t like me back.”

Pippa huffed, her eyebrows furrowing as her fingers left the pieces of your dress. “Y/N, that’s just nonsense.”

You turned around as Pippa’s eyes flitted over to the door, just spotting Jon walking by.

“Oh! Groff!” She grabbed him by the arm of his intricate costume, pulling him into your dressing room. “Question.”

“What’s up?” His eyes scanned over your costumes, a kind smile spreading on his face.

“Does Lin like Y/N?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He chuckled, as if the answer was obvious. “Have you seen him lately? Can’t keep his eyes off you.”

You shook your head dismissively, crossing your arms over your chest. “There’s no way.”

Jon shrugged his shoulders, shooting you a smirk as he walked out of the room. “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

“You know, you really should’ve listened to him. He’s right.”

“Sure he is. There’s no possibility Lin could like someone like me.” You bit your lip absentmindedly as you sat down, pulling on your heeled shoes.

“Heads up; we’re doing Winter’s Ball through Satisfied in five!” Lin poked his head through the door as he sent a exuberant grin towards Pippa before his eyes softened and settled on you, looking over your costume. “You’re gonna kill it.”

“But doesn’t Leslie kill it?” You beamed at Lin, sending him ironic finger guns.

“Oh my god, Y/N.” Lin’s laugh lit up the room as he ran a hand over his face, sharing a groan with Pippa. “Ah, anyways, you might wanna make your way towards the stage.” He jerked a thumb behind him.

“Copy that.” Pippa nodded, giving him a thumbs up as he walked in the same direction he had just pointed towards. As soon as he left the room, Pippa sharply turned in her chair, raising an amused eyebrow at you. “You saw the way he looked at you, right?”

You rolled your eyes, a smile plastered on your face as you stood from your chair and got adjusted to wearing the heels beneath your feet. “You’re never gonna let this go, aren’t you…?”

“Nope!” She said, popping the “p” as she walked out of the dressing room, you at her heels. Your dresses swished and swayed behind you as you walked to the side of the stage, where A Winter’s Ball was already playing. You glanced at Lin and Leslie they exchanged “heys” before you and Pippa took the stage.

Pippa’s voice rang throughout the theatre as you walked towards Lin, feigning chatter.

“Where are you taking me?” Lin turned his head towards you as you linked arms.

“I’m about to change your life.” You escorted him towards Pippa.

“Then, by all means, lead the way.”

As Lin and Pippa delivered their lines and shared a kiss, you couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of jealousy surge through you. You almost missed your cue as Helpless soon bled into Satisfied.

You dug your nails into your palm as you raised your glass, smiling at Lin and Pippa. Jasmine snuck a glance at you, lightly nudging you in the ribs. She slyly raised her eyebrows, curious as to what was distracting you.

Dismissing her suspicions, you spun to the middle of the stage. Everyone around you sang, gracefully moving in slow motion as the time shifted back to Angelica and Alexander’s meeting.

“But, Alexander, I’ll never forget the first time I saw your face.” You swiftly turned your head towards Lin, who gazed at you in mid-step.

You finished singing your lines as Lin stopped in front of you, tilting his chin up. “You strike me as a woman who’s never been satisfied.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, you forget yourself.” You dipped your head low, peeking up at Lin through your coated eyelashes.

“You’re like me, I’m never satisfied.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you cocked your head to the side. “Is that right?”

“I have never been satisfied.” Lin smiled, taking your hand in his and kissing it as the company gasped. You couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks as you exchanged a few more words.

Your movements were crisp as you rapped effortlessly, your shoulders held back.

“Where are you taking me?” Lin repeated as you joined him once more.

“I’m about—” your words were cut off by the painful rolling of your ankle as you collapsed at Lin’s feet. “Shit!” You hissed, staring in horror at your foot.

Lin jumped, immediately crouching down to you as Lac signaled the orchestra to cease playing. The cast instantly crowded around you as Lac, Andy, and Tommy politely pushed their way through the people surrounding you.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Lin’s eyes searched your face. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”

You inhaled sharply as you nodded vigorously. Lin and Andy grasped your upper arms as you slowly stood up, shifting your weight to your good foot.

“What happened?” Tommy’s eyes were wide in shock, flitting between your pained expression and ankle.

“As soon as we got to the next section she must’ve twisted her ankle or something.” Lin’s voice was filled with panic, his worried eyes constantly shifting to you. “Someone call an ambulance, please!”

“Already did!” You heard Anthony yell from the back of the crowd, holding his phone up.

“Thanks.” Lin breathed out, looking at you. “Took quite a tumble there,” he laughed half heartedly, desperate to lighten the mood.

You let out a breathy laugh, turning your head to face him. “Yeah, I was walking then my ankle just decided to fuck me over.”

You heard light chuckles as a man in a white uniform opened the door to the theatre. Your cast members parted from you to take a look at the sudden light that flooded the room. “Can you guys carry her, or would you like me to bring in a wheelchair?”

“Oh, no, we can—”

Lin’s voice was cut off by your words. “No, Lin, I can see that you and Andy are struggling. A wheelchair would be great, thanks.”

The man nodded, a humorous smile on his face as he closed the door. He entered a moment later, making his way to the stage as he splayed out a wheelchair in front of you. Lin and Andy slowly guided you into the chair, exchanging a few grunts of effort. “One of you can tag along with us if you’d like. You don’t have to, of course, just an option.”

“I’ll go.” Lin immediately took a step forward, red flushing his full cheeks as the cast shared knowing glances to each other. “I-I mean, it’s kinda my fault, I—”

“Yeah, yeah, you can go with your girlfriend.” Daveed sent him a toothy grin, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at you as Lin’s eyes drifted to the floor.

“Alright, let’s get you to the vehicle. My name’s Ryan, by the way.” The man in the uniform grabbed your wheelchair by its handles, maneuvering it around the twists and turns in the theatre with Lin at Ryan’s heels. He pushed you up the ramp into the back of the ambulance, waiting for Lin to enter before closing the doors and moving to another part of the . The ambulance began to move down the streets of New York towards the hospital as you and Lin exchanged some small talk.

“Oh my god—” your head snapped up, your eyes widening in realization as your fists curled in your lap.

“What’s wrong?” Lin’s head immediately turned to you.

“The show’s next week, Lin, what if I don’t heal in time? I can’t miss opening night.”

“Oh,” Lin’s voice grew quiet as his eyes darted around the room, searching for something to make you feel better. “Y/N, these are trained doctors, I’m sure they can work something out. In the case that your ankle doesn’t heal in time, anyway, we’ll make arrangements so you won’t miss the first show.”

You gaped at Lin, searching his facial features for any sign of deception. His smooth chocolate eyes bored into yours with utter seriousness. “You wouldn’t.”

“Y/N, it’s me we’re talking about, in the first person who would do this…especially for you.” His gaze suddenly found interest in the floor, a timid grin on his face. Your breath hitched in your throat, a shade of pink searing through your cheeks as a silence settled.

“Sorry to leave you guys in here alone, I’m making a few calls, heh. Have to use all the time I can since rides to the hospital are usually busy. But, this is considered a non-emergency, so it’s not as urgent. Here, I’m just gonna elevate your leg and ice your ankle. This is all kind of part of the acronym, RICE: rest, ice, compression, and elevation. Anyways, ice and elevation will reduce your swelling and minimize your pain. I’m sure the doctor will go over this with you, too.” Ryan abruptly burst in the room, an exhausted smile gracing his features as he took care of your ankle with extreme caution.

He kneeled down as his tentative hands aided your ankle, tossing intermittent phrases back and forth: “Am I hurting you?” and “You okay?” After a few minutes, he stood up, tilting his head and firmly pressing his lips together before nodding in satisfaction. “You should be good until we get to the hospital. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call for me.” He swiftly left through the door, shutting it behind him.

A thick silence between you and Lin filled the air, spare for the few clearing of throats and tapping of feet against the floor.

A sudden choked noise escaped Lin’s throat, a euphoric grin tugging at his lips as his eyes crinkled and he glanced at the ice placed over your ankle. “Ice, ice, baby!” He guffawed, slapping his knee. His laugh proved to be highly contagious as you found yourself cackling, leaning back as tears brimmed your eyes.

Dun dun dun da da dun dun,” you sputtered, the both of you throwing your heads back in hysterics.

You continued your conversation with ease, mostly because Lin was always easy to talk to. He leaned forward in anticipation, clinging onto every word you said and nodding his head eagerly. You soon reached the hospital, Ryan ushering you through the doors and to your room where a doctor greeted you. She introduced herself politely, shaking both yours and Lin’s hands with a firm grip.

She quickly hopped onto the computer in the room, thoroughly explaining that you needed x-rays to determine what you did to your ankle. She rolled her chair over to you, examining your ankle more thoroughly than Ryan had. She wheeled you out of the room, transferring you to an almost identical room with multiple machines residing in it. She went through the procedure of taking your x-ray with you before leaving you in the first room with Lin as she scanned over the x-rays.

The doctor emerged from the hallway, her hand immediately reaching for the mouse attached to the computer as she clicked numerous times until an image of the bones in your ankle appeared on the screen.

“Okay well, good news, your ankle is not broken. On here, there weren’t any fractures to be found. But when I was examining it, there was a lot of tenderness and limited range of motion. So, bad news, your ankle is still sprained.” She delved deeper into your recovery, what you could do to aid your ankle in healing faster and how to take care of it.

You and Lin alternated between nodding and asking questions, until you cleared your throat before speaking.

“One more thing, uh,” you fidgeted, suddenly aware of your clammy palms as you gestured to Lin. “We’re both running through rehearsals for a Broadway show that’s due for its opening night next week. Do you think I’d be able to be dancing by then?”

“Oh!” She snapped her fingers in realization, nodded her head quickly. “Yes, most likely. This is a grade one sprain, so it will take about seven to ten days to heal. As long as you keep an eye on the swelling and take good care of your ankle, you should be fine. Is that it?”

“Yes,” you smiled graciously. “Thank you so much.”

She shook both of your hands as she opened the door. “As soon as you’re ready you can go to the front desk, pay, and I can provide you with the supplies you’ll need. Alright?”

As soon as she was out of your line of sight, you and Lin collectively sighed in relief, shooting each other a bright smile.

“See, I told you things would work out.” Lin crouched down next to you to reach your height in the chair. He took your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles, which were white from clenching your fists out of anxiousness. His warm touch instantly soothed you.

You nodded appreciatively, looking at Lin with a great adoration in which he returned. His eyes scanned over you, filled with an indescribable love and kindness that flooded your chest with warmth. He leaned forward, his hot breath fanning your cheeks as his eyes leveled with yours.

“Would now be a bad time to kiss you?” Lin’s voice was a soft murmur, his dilated gaze shifting from your slightly ajar lips to your admiring eyes.

“Not a chance.” You whispered against Lin’s lips which eagerly, yet gently, pressed against yours. Your hands found their way to the back of his neck, his cupping your face as the pads of his thumbs caressed your cheeks. You felt him smile against your lips as you sighed into the kiss. You pulled away slowly as Lin’s hands still lingered.

You both broke into exuberant grins, your cheeks burning as Lin looked up at you. “I should’ve done that a lot sooner.”

Model Behavior

Summary: Jack is getting ready to do a photo shoot for Alicia’s friend.  Bitty comes along to keep him company, when Bitty suddenly becomes the model. Jack’s reaction to the photo is… interesting.  A quick little ficlet which takes place during Jack’s senior year.  Also on AO3


Jack hated photo shoots. Absolutely hated them, but Alicia had a favor called in and he found himself in a position of not being able to say no. And so, begrudgingly, Jack Zimmermann was on his way to Boston for a one-day shoot.

“Like an actual shoot shoot?” Bitty asked wide-eyed as he told him about it over some ginger peach pie the evening before.

“Yeah. It’s for some clothing line. They’re going to dress me up like a puppet and then I have to stand there, and smile like an idiot.”

“I dunno, it sounds so fun to me. I’d love to model!” Bitty said then sighed, “Alas, I am vertically challenged.”

“Euh… do you want to come with me?” Jack asked pushing his pie around the plate with his fork.

“Really? And like watch?!” Bitty practically bounced off his seat.

“I guess so, Bittle. Don’t make me take it back.”

“No! I’ll behave. I promise! It’s going to be so much fun.”

+++

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Spirit in the House - chapt 10 END

Modern!AU Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader is in a coma after a car accident. Bucky moves into your apartment and find your spirit still hanging around. (Based on Just like Heaven)

Word Count: 2,167

Warnings: Language, Mention of Depression, Mention of Suicidal Thoughts 

A/N: I was so moved by your feedback and I’m so happy to give you this final chapter. Thank you for everything! Hope you’ll enjoy it and… remember that I love you ♥ 

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10]

Originally posted by softtroublemaker

It had been almost four months since you had left the hospital. Your apartment was oddly silent and you were starting to feel like something was missing. There were days when you would catch yourself staring into space, smiling, as if you were living another life in your head. A life you didn’t have access to.

Your therapist told you to be patient, you had to let your brain recover and adjust. It was a topic that even Peggy and Tony avoided. You realised the past few months had been hard on them too, so you decided to pretend everything was fine.

But you were not fine. You were sad and lost.

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The Arrangement (Epilogue 2)

Originally posted by o-ta-ria

Summary: Not telling, don’t wanna spoil anything, just keep reeeaading

Pairing: AU!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,600

Warnings: teeth-rotting fluff, implied smut

A/N: Here we are, kiddos. Ask and you shall receive… the demand was so high and I love this series so much that I just can’t let it go. Not that I think any of you will be upset by this news… ENJOY

Find the rest of the series HERE and my mobile masterlist HERE

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Summer Secrets

Hey this is the first imagine I’ve written on my new Riverdale blog! I’m basing this on the show, as I have little to no knowledge on the comics. Hope y'all enjoy!

Part 2: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157174526553/summer-secrets-part-2

Part 3: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157457207683/summer-secrets-part-3

Part 4: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/158317245213/summer-secrets-part-4

Part 5: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/158334216753/summer-secrets-part-5

Masterlist: https://beronica-josie.tumblr.com/post/157919516668/masterlist

Summary: You move back to town after years and decide to remake yourself. Betty and Veronica push Archie to find a date to the dance and he asks you out. Little do they know, you had a summer fling with Jughead that ended badly, although you both still have feelings for each other.

You lived in Riverdale until fourth grade, when your dad landed a great job in another town. You never really had many friends, so you knew nobody would really care, but the hardest part was leaving the boy you liked. Archie, Jughead, and Betty would always be playing together on the playground and you couldn’t help but follow them around, hoping that they’d let you be their friend. They were nice to you, but never really understood why you were always around.

It was the summer before sophomore year when your dad lost his job and decided to move back to his hometown of Riverdale. Again, you never really had any friends, so it wasn’t hard to move. You decided to remake yourself over the summer, before unveiling the new you on the first day of school. You wouldn’t tell anybody you had come back until then. Unfortunately, that plan didn’t work, since you moved into the house next to Jughead.

It was the first day of school, and you worked hard on your hair and makeup so you could fit in better. Before first period, you saw Archie and Betty talking, but couldn’t gather the courage to say hi. There was no sign of Jughead anywhere. The rest of the day went by uneventful, with nobody bothering to talk to you. You were so tired of being ignored that when you heard about cheerleading tryouts, you made yourself try out. You needed to make friends, and you were pretty good at dancing so why not? The audition went pretty well and you were soon welcomed to the team. Things were looking up for you.

The next day, you strutted down the halls in your new cheerleading uniform and your favorite shade of lipstick. You felt powerful and ready to take on the world, so when you saw Archie, Betty, Jughead, and some other girl you didn’t even hesitate. “Hey, Archie. Hey, Betty.” you said nonchalantly before walking off.

“Who was that?” Veronica asked after you were out of earshot.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N],” Jughead sighed as he leaned against a locker a few feet away, his gaze moving to the floor.

“Wait, that’s [Y/N]?” Archie asked, surprised to see you back in town. He craned his neck around his open locker to try to get another look at you, but you’d already rounded a corner.

“Who is [Y/N]?” Veronica asked Betty, looking puzzled.

“She used to live here when we were little. She always followed us around on the playground because she had a crush on Archie. I guess she moved back to town.” Betty stated.

“She doesn’t even seem like the same person.” Archie said, still awestruck by you.

THE NEXT DAY

Betty, Veronica, Archie, and Kevin were sitting together for lunch, discussing the next school dance.

“Oh come on, Archie, who are you gonna take to the dance?” Veronica asked.

“If you don’t decide soon, then we’re going to have to find a date for you,” Betty teased.

“I can find you a date, but it probably won’t be a girl,” Kevin interjected, causing everyone to laugh.

“No, I don’t need you to find me a date. There’s already someone I like.” Archie stated. He couldn’t tell them about Ms. Grundy, but he couldn’t let them set him up with some random girl he didn’t know either.

There was a collective “oooohhhh” at the table. “Who is it?” Veronica demanded.

“Uh, you’ll see at the dance.” Archie said, hoping his lie came off as nerves.

“Somebody’s just being shy.” Veronica teased.

“Yeah.” Archie sighed, frustrated that he was now in this situation.

THAT EVENING.

Archie and Jughead sat at a booth at Pop’s, both drinking milkshakes.

“Archie, what’s wrong? You seem distant.” Jughead asked, after popping the cherry from his shake into his mouth.

Archie sighed before explaining the situation he was in. “I need to find a girl who isn’t caught up in any of this drama, so it doesn’t cause any more problems.” He finished.

“None of this would be happing if it weren’t for Grundy,” Jughead leaned in and whispered to Archie, looking around to make sure nobody had heard him.

“Listen, Jughead, I know. But it’s happened.” Archie stated dryly, not pleased with Jughead’s reaction.

Jughead saw Archie’s face, and sighed. “How about that girl in our biology class? The one with the glasses?” He suggested.

You entered Pop’s Diner from the door behind the booth they were sitting at. Archie faced the door and saw you come in.

“Hey Archie.” You greeted him as you walked past the booth, making sure not to look at Jughead.

“Hey,” Archie waved as you walked by. Suddenly, his face lit up with an idea. “Wait, [Y/N].”

You turned around and walked back to their table. You snuck a tiny glance at Jughead, who had his full attention on his milkshake. “Yeah Archie?” You asked pleasantly.

“Uh, I was wondering…” Archie sounded nervous. “Do you wanna go to the dance with me?”

Jughead coughed loudly, clearly startled by what was happening. You smirked. This must be driving him up a wall, you thought. “Sure, Archie. Let me give you my number.” He handed you his phone and you could feel Jughead’s intense gaze on you as you put your number into Archie’s phone. You handed his phone back.

“I’ll text you when I get home. Bye, Archie.” You glanced at Jughead. “Bye, Jughead.” You said sweetly, knowing it would make him angry.

You stopped by the counter to pay for your food, before you headed for the door. You couldn’t help but look at Jughead. He was staring at you with anger and sadness in his eyes. You felt bad for what you just did to him, but oh well. He was the one who ended it. You held his gaze for a second as the memories washed over you.

FLASHBACK

It was the 4th of July, the third day after you moved to Riverdale. You only hung out in your house and sometimes sat on the curb reading when you wanted to get outside. That night you were rereading your favorite book as a figure walked down the street. It was Jughead. He had already known you moved back, as your parents made you greet the neighbors the day you moved.

“Hey Jughead.” You said, glancing up from your book.

“Hey.” Jughead sounded angry.

You closed your book and set it on the curb before standing up. “What’s wrong?” You asked, standing in front of him so he couldn’t move past you.

“Please just move, [Y/N].” He sighed.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” You demanded.

He sighed. “I was supposed to hang out with an old friend, but he cancelled on me at the last minute.”

“Archie?” You asked.

He nodded, and you could tell he was angry and hurt.

“Well why don’t you come in and have a frosted lemonade with an old friend?” You asked. He was the only person your age that knew you were back in Riverdale, why not have a friend to hang out with?

He smirked at your effort, but still refused. “No, I just want to go home.”

“Oh come on. Nobody can resist my frosted lemonade.” Before he could protest, you grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs into your house. His warm hand on yours sent tiny lightening bolts all the way up your arm.

After a nice conversation and a drink, you remembered something.

“Oh, Jughead I have something to show you!” You said excitedly, as you grabbed his hand again. You felt the tiny shock again as you lead him upstairs and into your room.

“Sit there.” You gestured to a spot on your bed, as you headed into your closet to retrieve something. After a few minutes of searching you found it.

You emerged from the closet holding up a tiny necklace. It had your initials and the letters JJ engraved on a heart. “Do you remember this? Your mom made you give it to me because she wanted us to get married.” You laughed. “I forgot that I used to call you JJ.”

He laughed, “Nobody else would call me that, but you. You always thought it was funny that nobody else thought of that.”

“Here put it on me.” You said excitedly handing it to him, and turning around so he could clasp the necklace around your neck.

His hands gently reached around your neck and closed the necklace. You felt the same warmth on your neck as his fingers touched the back of your neck. You blushed slightly, thinking about your old crush.

“Hey, I want to tell you something.” You said turning around. “You know how I followed you guys around a lot when we were little?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I didn’t really have any friends and I followed you around because I had a really big crush.”

“Yeah, I remember you liked Archie.”

“No, JJ. It was you I had a crush on.” You said, looking into his eyes. He stared into your eyes intensely.

“Really?” He asked quietly, taking a step closer to you. What was happening? You asked yourself.

“Yeah.” You said, your breathing started to get heavier.

Before you knew what was happening, Jughead had placed a hand under your chin, pushing it up so he could meet his lips with yours.

PRESENT DAY

You snapped out of your daydream. Jughead was still staring at you angrily. You didn’t care. He was the one who hurt you. You turned towards the door and walked out.