i like the other one better sigh

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 herself 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. They 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 being carried by 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 you head to happen. Just one little accidental shake of you 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 their 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 you 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

Mistake

Vegas | Tease | Oops | D | Game | Mistake

Series: Vegas

Note: The moment you all have been waiting for… Hold onto your caps, people, because this one is a roller coaster.

Word Count: 3586

Warnings: Language, angst…no smut in this one, guys. 😳

Tagging:  @gwash4prez @jazy2015 @alexanderhamllton @this-ally-loves-you @duckoffury @hamrevolution @curiositykilledthecompanion @thegirlonhamilton @shinymarbles @legattoassassino @nadialinett14 @an-abundance-of-hannahs @someonesblogger @the-ashy-phoenix @hamiltrashinn @texasprincess3 @patchesthed00t @teenage-band-loser @hetafairyaot @hmltntrsh51 @kkoolaid1 @londonbridgefalling @ashthewinchestergirl @aquamarrineee @pearltheartist @bluesnowyangel @sitdownjohn-youfatmotherfucker @edge-oftonight @vishuddhakid @kink-george @loopietoopie @hamil-scribbles @iamgrayfox @zaire-is-worth-it @hamiltonwasbienough @butter-times @lilybutterworthstuff @velvetsirius @fandom-nerdness7 @snoozing-hippogriffs-23 @agent-fangirl @traash-canz @meand-mybrain @jadee-ee @oshlow @me—lancholy @ridiculousn3ssfangirl @pearltheartist @bluesnowyangel @finnydraws @secretary-thomas-jefferson @completehamiltrash @clamilton @for-god-sake-john-sit-down @manateegrl @meavenel @hamilsquadsrighthandman @seungcheoljpg @hell-yes-puns-and-ships @i-am-trash1828 @helplessly-hamiltrash @haletotheking24 @bootybiersack @thoughtfulbearpanda @5vibesofsummer @completehamiltrash @canadianfruitpunch @faatlouie @accidentally-impeccable @ask-sherlock-221b @missgallaxy @nonxstop @emilysyrup @erinlikestrains @basheverythingyesterday @yukiyoru @duckslier3 @sweetestjensener @pearltheartist

You knew you’d fucked up.

The second those words flew out of your mouth, your eyes shot open and your breath caught in your throat. You were quickly shaken from the spell Daveed had placed you under, and as reality settled in, you began to panic.

Without delay, you pushed Daveed off you and clambered off the bed. He was silent and you didn’t know if it was because he was in shock or because he was still coming down from his high, but either way, you knew you had to get out of there before he started speaking.

You were pulling your jeans on hastily when you finally spoke up. “I uh…I-I gotta go.” You said, trying to hide the fact that you were on the verge of tears. “It’s really late and I think I forgot to do something back home.”

“Y/N…” Daveed breathed softly, pushing himself up on his elbows to look at you.

Keep reading

Best Laid Plans

Properly late this time.

(Also posted on AO3)


“Alright!” Teddy said loudly clapping his hands.

Victoire rolled her eyes, “We’re all right ‘ere, Teddy. You don’t need to shout.”

“This is the very important first meeting of the-” Teddy hesitated and bought time by climbing up to stand on the empty teacher’s desk in the classroom they were meeting in, “The Cupid Club!”

Peter groaned.

“That is an 'orrible name,” Victoire frowned.

Daisy and Saanvi giggled, leaning into one another.

“Whatever,” Teddy said dismissively, “We can work out a better name later. The important thing is, we’re all here for one united purpose!” He paused to gesture dramatically and the other students stared at him, Daisy and Saavi giggled.

Teddy sighed, “You could show a little more enthusiasm, you know!”

“Should we clap?” Peter asked.

“Get on with it, Ted,” Victoire prompted with an exasperated smile.

Teddy said, “Fine. So, we’ve all seen my cousin and godfather, the illustrious Professor Potter and Professor Malfoy, flirting-”

“Insults really don’t seem like flirting to me,” Victoire said. To try and quell Teddy’s puppy dog expression she added, “They do look good together.”

Saanvi sighed, “Have you seen how Professor Potter smiles when Professor Malfoy talks with him?”

“He just lights up!” Daisy said with a giggle, “It’s the sweetest thing.”

“But what about Professor Malfoy?” Victoire said, “ 'E is always sneering and smirking at 'arry.”

“He stares at his arse.”

Keep reading

Secrets

Requested. (This was a little bit difficult for me….hope it’s up to par D:)

Song or Quote : Love is unselfishly choosing for another’s highest good.
Who: Peter Parker

Peter sulked behind Tony who led them to an old diner that miraculously was still standing after everything the city had been through. He was dreading what was going to be said to him once they finally sat down. Peter had messed up, bad. Tony ordered a black coffee and a cherry turnover while Peter just stuck to a chocolate milk. He didn’t even want anything but Tony insisted he get something. The silence was painful and seemed like it was never going to end. 

After some time of watching Tony eat his turnover, Peter finally decided to break the painful quiet. “Look, Mr. Stark, I just, I need, I want to apologize for not being on my A game tonight.” 

Tony chewed for a minute, staring at the teenager before swallowing and deciding to respond back. “Mind telling me why I almost got my head ripped off and your body almost getting torn in half? This isn’t some game, kid. It’s real life and real life means real danger and real danger means broken bones and dead bodies. When I bring you along to these kinds of things, I bring you because I need you. Just because I’m Iron-man doesn’t mean I can do everything which is something you will never hear me say again.” 

Peter bit his lip, shaking his head. Trying to find the words to justify why his mind was not where it was supposed to be. Stuttering and tripping over his words, he bowed his head and mumbled, “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I, it’s, I, my-”

“-just stop.” Tony sighed, running a hand over his face, he inhaled deeply. This was a kid sitting in front of him, just a kid. A kid that was fortunate to have these abilities and unfortunate at the same time because he was stuck with them. Looking at Peter, he asked calmly, “Where was your mind at, kid? Why weren’t you focused?”

Peter refused to meet Tony’s gaze, he didn’t want to admit why he had been spacing out. Because, he knew that lives were at stake but the guilt of cancelling his date with [Y/N] for the fourth time in a row was eating away at him. He desperately tried to keep his crime fighting life as Spider-Man and [Y/N] separate. He didn’t want to put that burden on her, constantly being worried whether or not he was going to make it home or not. It wasn’t fair to cause stress when he could just avoid it and keep his Spider-Man life private. 

Sipping on his coffee, Tony sternly spoke. “If we’re going to be working together, we’ve got to be honest with one another.”

Again Peter didn’t respond, he just didn’t know how. 

“What was so damn important in that brain of yours that made you forget about your life for one split second?”

Peter toyed with his hands, shrugging his shoulders, getting frustrated with himself. “I don’t know, Mr. Stark. I just, I spaced. I know this is important and that I should always stay focused but, I just, I-”

“-Peter, listen to me, and you listen good. I see potential in you, please for the love of god don’t make me regret my decision.”

Peter frowned, looking down in his lap, he toyed with his fingers again. “I’m seeing this girl, [Y/N], Mr. Stark. I have been for awhile now and I kept it a secret because I don’t know, I want to keep my personal life for just me. And I don’t want to drag her into this life because well, she doesn’t need to be apart of it.” Looking up at Tony, Peter sighed. “I’m still a kid and I want to do kid things like go to school, see her in the hall and think to myself, ‘wow, she’s so beautiful,’ and then meet up with her at the lockers and talk about how her day has been going. Go on dates, have awkward moments on those said dates, struggle to find the words to say when I find out that I love her.” Peter ran both hands through his hair, “Tonight was the fourth night in a row that I’ve cancelled on her and I’m just afraid that she’ll leave me and I don’t want that because when I’m with her, I feel good. I feel great, actually. I feel normal, I feel like just a normal kid and it’s an escape from this double life I’m living-which don’t get me wrong, Mr. Stark, this life is nice too because I feel like I’m making a difference in this world but sometimes I just need a getaway and [Y/N] is my getaway. Wait…what are you doing?” 

Tony mumbled under his breath, “I may have bit off more than I can chew.” His focus was completely focused on his watch, his fingers were hovering over a holographic keyboard as he toyed with it. In seconds [Y/N] social media profile was hovering in the air, “Is this? This is the girl you’re seeing?” Tony seemed impressed, “She’s cute.” He looked up in time to find Peter’s horrified stare, ignoring it, he skimmed through her pictures and interests. “Very cute, aw, well isn’t this sweet. Is that the Statue of Liberty? It is, isn’t it. Hm, let’s see ‘Peter took me to see Lady Liberty today!’ Oh come on, man. You took her to see the Statue of Liberty for a date?” 

Still stunned that Tony had [Y/N]’s social in his hands, he swallowed. “Uh, yeah, she, uh, she’s always wanted to go and I thought, you know, I should, wait why are we talking about this right now?” He wanted to get off the topic of [Y/N]. There was a reason why he kept her from Tony despite knowing that he could easily get onto it. 

Waving his hand over the floating images, they vanished. Toying with the keyboard some more, another image popped up over his wrist. Swiping the images, he nodded in approval. “She’s a smart girl. All A’s and lookie here, she’s in three AP classes. How old are you again? How does she have the time for this and you? These are some impressive scores, probably the highest in your grade I take it. Let’s just see, oh look, she does with you being right behind her.” Waving his hand again to make them disappear, Tony leaned forward. “Okay, look, I get why you’re head over heels, puppy dog in love with her. She’s a cute, smart, very smart girl.” 

“Did you? Did you just hack into my school’s grading system to look at her grades?”

Waggling his finger, Tony narrowed his eyes. “Ah, no changing the subject and really? You have to ask? I’m Tony Stark, I could get into this rinky dink diner’s security system and shut it down.” Clearing his throat, “Listen to me, kid. Love is unselfishly choosing for another’s highest good. You put your life at risk tonight because you were too busy worrying about her. But you know what, I get that, I get you want to protect her from this double life thing your living. I get it. But what you don’t understand is that keeping her from this, is only making it worse for you and her.” 

"I can’t just tell her I’m Spider-Man! She’ll freak out and if she freaks out, I’ll freak out. Her and Aunt May are very similar in their freaking out episodes. I have to keep it a secret.”

“You know, I’ve heard girls date men that resemble and remind them of their fathers but I’ve never heard boys dating girls that remind them of their really attractive aunts.” 

Peter narrowed his eyes, “I never said [Y/N] reminds me of Aunt May, I just said they freak out the same. But yes to some degree, I guess you could say they have similar qualities-but that’s besides the point! I am not telling her I’m Spider-Man.” 

Tony rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. “When you have someone that means this much to you, you want to protect them and only them. I’ve been there, kid. You want to make the world a better place for them but the thing is, is when you step foot into that suit. It’s not just about them, it’s about everyone. You have a responsibility to save as many people as you can. And when you’re all in love and what not, you lose sight of that responsibility. Prime example was tonight when we almost died.” 

“So I just what? Break up with her and suffer? Because I don’t think I can do that, Mr. Stark. If anything, it’ll make my concentration worse.”

“I’m not saying that. What I am saying is you have a responsibility to save as many lives as you can without losing your own. You’re young, you’ll find other [Y/N]’s, if not better ones.”

Peter squinted his eyes, shaking his head. “No, I won’t. There’s no one like [Y/N]. No one.” 

Tony half nodded, understanding the firm point the teenager had. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead, “This job isn’t easy and you’ve got a long way to go before these instincts start to feel like second nature.” Glancing out the window, his eyes caught sight of a familiar face among a crowd of kids about to step foot into the diner. “Word of advice, Parker? You should tell her what you’ve been up to. Because one thing I will say is that despite my distaste for love, that kind of girl is not the kind of girl you let slip away from your fingers over something so irritatingly silly as not telling her who you are and what you do.” Throwing down some money, he stood up and winked at Peter before saying, “Because a few years from now, I may scout her to work for me and that’d be so unbelievably awkward to work with her after you were an idiot in not telling her.” 

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Out the door to my lavish expensive penthouse where I can take a wonderful lavender bath.”

“Peter?”

Peter spun around, frozen in place to find [Y/N] standing behind him. Struggling to stand up, his knees banged the underside of the table before scrambling out of the booth. [Y/N]?! What, what are you doing here?” 

Raising a brow, she eyed Tony suspiciously, “I could ask you the same thing…”

Tony smiled, “You must be [Y/N], Peter has told me so much about you. Sorry about having him cancel on your date but I really needed to finish up some finishing details on his entry for the September Foundation.”

“At a run down diner?” She asked, not really believing in his lie.

“You know what, you, my sweet girl, are a lot smarter than I had been told.” Moving around her, he headed for the door. “Peter will telling you everything you need to know.” Winking before leaving the door, he chuckled to himself as he left Peter looking frantic and nervous. 

[Y/N] crossed her arms, “Peter, what is going on? I thought you said Aunt May wouldn’t let you go out tonight. And why the hell was Tony Stark in this diner with you? And, the September Foundation? What is he talking about?”

Sighing, he reached for her hand, “We need to have a long talk about all of those questions but not here.” 

Southern Motherf*cking Democratic Republicans (Jefferson x Madison x Burr x Reader)

Words: 1600+

Request: psst hey soulmate au with one of southern motherfucking democratic republicans? 😉

Warnings: Nope

A/N: Hope ya like it anon! (and everyone else!) I apologize for taking so long, college’s been a b*tch


The universe was unfair.

It was said that everyone would meet their soulmate at 18. And for the most part, it was true. The distinct tattoo that everyone had would glow red and hurt whenever they bumped into the love of their lives, and happily ever after. Of course, the ones that did not, their tattoos would fade. It was usually due to their soulmate dying or their soulmate giving up on love. It was not common, but it did happen. Those were all the cases that you heard, so you wondered why it was so different for you.

You were 27, and it’s been almost ten years since you were supposed to meet them. Ten years of wondering when your tattoo would fade, ten years of hoping that you would just bump into them while walking into the bathroom or buying groceries.

Ten years of anticipation.

You tried your best not to give up on the idea of love. But it was hard, it was so difficult. You stared at the snake on your arm. It started at the tip of your pointer finger and curled all the way around your arm, your shoulder, and ended at the corner of your left ear. It was beautiful.

But it did not cover the whole in your heart, the need to see whose tattoo matched yours. But you did, cover it, hid it from your coworkers and other colleagues. It was for the best. At least, that’s what you convinced yourself.

You walked into the auditorium, readying yourself for the speech that was about to take place. Your boss required you to attend, and to interview the men that spoke afterword. They called themselves “The Southern Democratic Republicans”, and you scoffed when you heard the words. Did they think they were the founding fathers or something?

It was about the research into soulmates, and how the process actually worked. You couldn’t hide the fact that you were interested in hearing their results, despite their ridiculous name.

“Y/N, did you see their pictures?” Your friend, Eliza, whispered. She already found her soulmate, Alexander Hamilton. You haven’t met him yet, but you were told that he was a loud mouth and slightly pompous. It was intriguing how a woman like Elizabeth Schulyer ended up with a man like him. But you saw the glow in her eyes when she mentioned him, and your heart ached.

“Nope, why? Do they look as strange as their name?” You joked, sitting in the first row. She sat next to you, shoving the paper in your hand.

“Hahaha,” she said sarcastically, passing you the pamphlet, “the opposite actually. They’re hot.” You raised your eyebrow at her, and she chuckled, a small blush appearing on her cheeks. “I mean, they’re handsome. But, not as handsome as my Alexander.” She added, winking at you. You rolled your eyes at her, looking down at the paper in your hand.

You looked at the man who appeared first. Thomas Jefferson. His credentials were phenomenal, having several master degrees and even achieved the title of doctor. His hair was wild, curls pointed in every direction. There was a small smirk on his face, like he knew something you didn’t. You noticed he was wearing a turtleneck in the picture, and you were curious. Was he trying to hide something?

The next man was James Madison. He had several degrees as well, but most were bachelors. He was as handsome as the man before, his expression emotionless. His hair was short, and he wore a suit, with a scarf covering his neck.

The last, but not least, was Aaron Burr. He was grinning fully in his picture, in a suit and tie. His hair was short as well, and his credentials were amazing, competing with Jefferson’s. There was a camera glare in the picture, making it seem like his head was floating over his torso.

Eliza nudged you, bringing your attention to the stage ahead of you. “Hey, I know they’re good-looking, but wouldn’t it be better to see them in real life?” She whispered, and before you could give her an answer, the lights dimmed down, and the white screen came down.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we would like you to give a warm welcome to The Democratic Republicans; Aaron Burr, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison!” The crowd clapped loudly, and you wondered if this was some sort of concert. Why is it so loud at a convention?

The men walked out one by one, Aaron Burr appearing first. He waved at the crowd, grinning happily. Next, Thomas Jefferson walked out, nodding at the crowd with a small smile. James Madison was last, holding a tissue to his mouth, waving at everyone. They approached their podium, each of them having one individually. They were all wearing suits, besides Jefferson’s byzantium colored one.

“Oh shit, I was right…” Eliza mumbled, wiggling her eyebrows at you. You giggled, turning back to the stage. You did notice that all of them wore a scarf around their necks, underneath their suits, which was strange to you. You touched the turtleneck you wore with being aware, staring at the men.

“Welcome fellow scientists, lawyers, journalists, and whatever career you may have.” Jefferson started, causing a chuckle from the audience.

“We are here to present to you the idea of soulmates and how it has changed over the course of our lifetime.” Aaron Burr added, looking at his colleague. James coughed.

“We’ve researched most of our lives how soulmates became a concept, and in a few moments, we are going to show you our final findings.” James replied, passing the clicker to Jefferson. Jefferson smiled at his friend, and began the slides.

You wrote down as much information as possible, astonished that they came up with all these new insights on humanity and the tattoos etched on the skin. They were almost complete with their presentation, when they took off the scarfs around their necks. You were too focused on your writing to notice what was actually going on. Everyone in the audience gasped, and Eliza hit you on the arm.

“Look, Y/N! Oh, my gosh…” She mumbled, her eyes staring at you. You pushed your eyebrows together, confused.

“What-“ She turned your head towards the stage, and your eyes widened.

All of the men took off the cloth around their neck, revealing what they were hiding underneath. It showed a snake tattoo on their neck. But that was not the strange part.

“As you can see, we all have the same tattoo around our neck. We were not sure why this happens, but maybe it is because we all have the same soulmate.” Jefferson said, glancing at his friends.

“We thought that we were soulmates, but the tattoo did not glow or burn.” James added.

“So, we began researching this topic, since this has never happened before in the history of mankind. That there was more than one person we were meant to be with.” Aaron added.

Their tattoos were the same as yours. You heart beat quickened, realizing what was going on. You felt the skin on the left side of your body burn, and you pulled up your sleeve violently, revealing the red glow in the dark theatre. Your arm was shaking, and you felt a giant weight on your shoulder.

“What the hell?” You heard Thomas say. There were numerous gasps in the audience.

You looked back up to the stage, and all their tattoos were as red as yours. You quickly pulled your sleeve down, not wanting them to notice.

What were you doing? Did you not want to find your soulmate? You heard your mind say, but you ignored it.

“Our soulmate, they must be here. They must be in this room!” Aaron exclaimed, looking out into the crowd.

You had to leave, and it had to be quick. Before they noticed the glow of red on your arm and the pained look on your face. Eliza looked back at you glaring your things, and shook her head.

“Don’t leave them.” She whispered. “Don’t regret their love.” Her eyes were disapproving of you, wanting you to stop your mad dash. You disregarded her discontentment, and shoved your papers in your bag.

“Does anyone have the same tattoo as us? Please, show yourself!” Jefferson yelled, scanning the audience. There were murmurs around, the people in the crowd looking back and forth for the missing soulmate. You took this time to jump out of your seat, running to the exit.

“Hey!” You heard Aaron yell, but you ignored, almost making it to the door. You glanced back, seeing the three men leaping off the stage, their eyes on you. It was hard to run when your arm was in pain, but you ignored it, pushing through the doors.

You ended up in a packed lobby, bumping into everyone that was in your way. You heard protests and insults being thrown at you, but you just need to get away from all of this.

You needed to think about what this means.

“Please, just wait!” You heard James yell, and you froze, your body unable to move. You tried to run forward, but for some reason, it wouldn’t budge.

Your body would not let you leave your soulmates behind.

You turned around, coming face to face with the three men that were just on stage. Aaron was out of breath, leaning down. James was staring at you, in awe. Thomas smiled at you, and your heart warmed.

“So, you’re our soulmate?” James said, holding out his hand. You shook it. The glow on your arm lessened, but was still as bright as the sun. Thomas held out his hand next, and you shook it as well, your fingers tingling. The pain went away from the tattoo, and you sighed in relief. It still glowed wildly. Burr was the last, holding yours a bit longer than the rest. The glow immediately dissipated after that, leaving you four to stare at each other in amazement. After a few seconds of this, you cleared your throat.

“So, um, how are we going to fix this?” You whispered. They all looked at each other, and then at you.

“I guess we’ll have to share you.” Thomas grinned wickedly. You sighed, staring at the three in front of you.

You were always told; two is better than one. Who knew that it would double?

We Got Married || Kim Taehyung

Originally posted by bwipsul

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: Fluff


Filming had only been a couple, and it was sad when it came to an end. You had enjoyed it though, it was one of the most exciting times of your life. Sure everything was already planned from the start, but as you looked at Taehyung, shaking hands with the director and other staff, you couldn’t help but think there was something genuine about him.

You were used to having people act nice around you, it was your daily life. As an idol, you had become accustomed to the way people would smile at you, or laugh at your jokes because the only thing they wanted to do was make you happy. Their fear was that you wouldn’t like them, and it caused them to be someone they weren’t.

But with Taehyung it was different. There was never a point on the show where you felt like Taehyung had not been either completely serious with you or himself with you. Sure, he was following along, but there were parts that he didn’t do or said completely off script that only furthered your ideas.

You looked at him now, as he talked with the staff and your heart fluttered. It seemed silly to you that it only took a couple weeks for you to fall completely and utterly in love with him. And you were sure he felt the same, but there was a little voice in the back of your head that made you think otherwise.

Sure you were an idol as well, and you had a lot of fan who supported what you did, but there were some who weren’t happy with this season of We Got Married. There were fans who said you and Taehyung were disgusting together, people who said you either weren’t good enough for him or he wasn’t good enough for you.

And that was why you never said anything to him.

Keep reading

Take One

Take One: Scene One
[College Au! Taking an editing course with Christian]

As class came to an end your professor handed back your peer reviewed midterms. You honestly always thought peer reviewed was a fancy way of saying Your professor was too lazy to actually grade it themselves, but there were no complaints on your end. There was no way a classmate would fail you, they probably had the same anxiety.

Everyone was always lenient at peer reviews. Right?

“Alright Kids, remember to go over the discussion board, read the next chapter and start drafting ideas for the final” Professor Seo leaned on her desk, taking off her glasses. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, can I do a makeup midterm?” One of the kids in the back piped up.

She chuckled. “No make ups, but if anyone enters the film festival, that presentation will be used to replace their lowest grade, including a midterm. Next question?”

“Professor Seo, what is this?” you gasped turning over your paper.

“Is there a problem?” she raised a brow.

Keep reading

I’m so sad/angry/bitter that Pitch got cancelled. And I knew it was going to happen, I knew it, but seeing it confirmed, *deep sigh*.
It was so, so good. I mean, the first female pitcher in the Major Leagues!! A show that handled themes like sexism, mental health, rape culture, among others in an amazing way! A diverse cast! Healthy, platonic relationships! A BLACK WOMAN AS A LEAD! And people just slept on it. I’m going to be bitter about this one for a long time.

Winchesters in Riverdale (Part Ten/Finale)

After a hunt gone wrong, Y/N Winchester, the 17 year old half-sister of Sam and Dean Winchester, her older brothers, and Castiel are transported to Riverdale, a town in a different universe. While Sam, Dean, and Castiel attempt to find a way back home, Y/N struggles to fit in in the community of Riverdale. In a universe with no monsters to worry about, there’s so many questions that need answering.

Can she ever try to be normal after hunting for all of her life? Who’s the good-looking, mystical teen with the beanie who’s always at that diner? And will anyone discover that secret she’s been hiding for the last year and a half?

Masterlist for the other parts of this story

—————

There was comfortable silence between you and Jughead as the two of you walked hand in hand together down the street. Your feet were cold on the gravel, your heels forgotten and swinging from your free hand. You didn’t know where you were going but you didn’t care. The dance was forgotten about although you could still hear the faint music. You were with Jughead. That was the only thing that mattered. Every now and then you would sneak a peek at the raven-haired teen. You tried to memorize the way the moonlight bounced off him. The way he smiled at you when he thought you weren’t looking. Everything.

Suddenly, Jughead stopped and turned to look at you.

“Okay, close your eyes.” he said.

You rose your eyebrows at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Trust me.” he said, smiling.

You sighed but closed your eyes nonetheless.

“Making me the next Jason Blossom?” you joked.

Jughead snorted.

He began to lead you off the gravel road and soon enough your feet felt the hard ground turn to grass.

“Over here.” Jughead said.

Eventually he stopped.

“Can I open my eyes now?” you asked.

“Not yet. Take a seat first,”

You sighed again and sat down, putting your shoes next to you. You heard Jughead sit next to you and felt his warm palms on your shoulders.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Open them,”

You opened your eyes.

As you looked around, you saw that the two of you were in the middle of the park, surrounded by swing sets and jungle gyms and money bars.

You looked up and your mouth dropped open.

The sky, which had previously been covered by trees as you walked in the street had opened up, revealing the beautiful night sky. The full moon shone brightly and there were millions upon million of stars to be seen.

“Not bad, huh?” Jughead asked as he removed his hands from your shoulders.

You looked at the beaming boy whose face was inches away from yours.

“It’s beautiful.” you said.

Jughead smiled shyly before he leaned in, kissing you softly. You smiled into the kiss as your arms wrapped around Jughead’s arm, your fingers running over the few black locks of hair resting on Jughead’s neck that had escaped from his beanie. He stopped kissing you when a sudden gust of wind hit your bare arms making you shiver. Jughead frowned as he looked at you.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“No, I’m fine,” you said. “It’s just—”

You were cut off when you saw Jughead quickly taking his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders.

You smiled as him as you pulled the warm fabric closer to you.

“Thank you.” you mumbled.

Jughead smirked and draped his arm around you. The two of you lied down and you snuggled into the younger teen’s warm chest, Jughead’s arm pulling you closer to him. The two of you looked up at the night sky, looking up at the sky.

You didn’t know how long you laid there for before Jughead spoke again.

“What’s her name?” Jughead asked suddenly.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him. Jughead looked panicked.

“I, uh, I-I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” he rambled, convinced he had ruined everything. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said—”

To his surprise, you giggled, cutting him off.

You changed your position so you were facing him, your elbow supporting your head as you rested it on your fist. Jughead mimicked your position, watching you warily.

“It’s okay,” you said. “After what you said to me earlier, um, I feel like it’s easier to talk about. Still hard, yeah. But it’s easier,” you said.

Jughead nodded.

“Her name is Lily,” you said. “Her father… he used to get me flowers. Almost everyday. He’d go outside and pick a whole bunch of them for me. They were lilies. He, um, passed away before Lily was born and I guess I just wanted to find a way to connect her name to him. Even if she would never know who he was. Or who I am for that matter.”

Jughead’s eyes widened.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t know he died.”

You smiled softly at him.

“It’s okay,” you said quietly. “It’s… been a while. The ache never really goes away but I’m making my way. One day at a time.”

Jughead nodded again.

“Do your brothers—”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “They don’t know about Lily. Castiel, you know, the one always wearing that trench coat; he knows. He helped me run away and kept me hidden unless Lily was born.”

Jughead’s eyes widened.

““Hidden?”” he repeated. “From what?”

You sighed.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, Y/N, it does,” Jughead said. “Are you in danger?”

You sighed, tried to figuring out a way to phrase your job.

Hey, Jughead, I kinda sorta kill monsters for a living, and I’ve occasionally fought the Devil himself. No big deal. Oh, and my dead boyfriend was killed by a rogue angel using my brother’s body as a vessel.

You shook your head again.

“No,” you said.

Not immediate danger.

“I told you how I had kind of a weird job, right?”

Jughead nodded.

“Well… sometimes that job’s dangerous,”

Sometimes? Try all the time.

“There are thi— people out there who want to hurt me,” you corrected yourself. “But it’s okay. It’s part of the job. Besides, my brothers have my back. So does Castiel.”

“Y/N—”

“Jughead, please don’t worry,” you nearly begged. “I’m okay, alright?”

Jughead looked like he wanted to say more. And he did. He wanted to beg you to tell him everything. To stay with him and Archie so they could protect you from whatever wanted to hurt you. But as he looked into your pleading eyes, he melted and couldn’t say anything else.

“Okay.” he said hoarsely.

You let out a sigh of relief once you realized Jughead wasn’t going to press you further. The two of you lied back down and you snuggled back into Jughead’s chest, closing your eyes. The silence returned but Jughead felt tense under you. Like he wanted to say something else.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” he suddenly asked softly.

You froze in his arms, eyes opening as you looked at his sad expression.

“I, uh, saw your brothers in Pop’s the other day. I, um, decided to eavesdrop a little bit. Thought I could maybe find out how you were doing. Instead I heard them talking about going home or something.” he said.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “We leave tomorrow.”

You heard Jughead give a defeated exhale.

“W-Will I ever see you again? I can still text you, right?” he asked weakly.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you slowly shook your head.

“I—Jughead, I wish. It won’t—It can’t—” you stopped before you began to cry.

You would never see Jughead again. He wouldn’t be able to contact you. Texting someone from a different universe? It was impossible.

“If you don’t want to see me—”

“No!” you exclaimed. “Jughead, I…”

You felt tears rolling down your face.

“I-I love you,” you said.

Jughead’s eyes widened at your confession.

“I love you,” you said again. “I never thought I could love someone the way I love you again. I don’t want to leave. But it’s my home. Everything I know is there. Family, friends, my life. And I can’t just leave it. I-I need you to understand that.”

Jughead was silent as he contemplated your words. and you got more and more nervous as the silence stretched on and on.

What if this was it? What if he just got up and left? What if he didn’t understand? What if he decided—

Jughead’s lips crashing against yours snapped you out of your thoughts. The freshly fallen tears on his cheeks mixed with yours and you could taste salt. You immediately kissed him back roughly, your teeth clacking together. But neither of you cared. When you pulled away for air, you were filled with relief when you saw Jughead smiling softly at you despite the tears in his eyes.

“I love you, too.” he said.

There were no more words to be spoken. He understood.

“Just… do me a favor, okay?” Jughead asked.

You nodded as you turned around to face the teen.

Jughead had walked you all the way back to the motel. He offered to get the car and drive you home but you declined. The more time you could spend with Jughead the better. You had walked hand in hand the entire way back. You talked about your favorite moments together, teasing each other with your little inside jokes, and had even stopped for a quick milkshake at Pop’s. One last time.

“Of course.”

Jughead sighed.

“Tell your brothers. About Lily,”

Your opened your mouth to protest but you were cut off by Jughead again.

“Please,” he said. “You’ll feel a lot better. And I know they’ll listen to you and help you out. I’ve seen the way they look at you. They look terrified. Like they think you’re gonna leave again without any warning. Y/N, I don’t think they’ll be able to handle that again.”

You let out a shaky sigh.

“Jughead…”

“Just talk to them. Please?” Jughead asked.

You nodded.

“Okay,” you said. “When we get home, I’ll talk to them.”

Jughead let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” he whispered.

You gave a small smile to the teen.

“I, um,” you began, unsure of what to say. “I guess I’ll see you around, Mr. Jones.”

Jughead smirked as he took a step closer to you.

“I’ll see you around, Ms. Winchester.” he said softly.

He dipped down, capturing your lips in one last passionate kiss. You kissed back with just as much fervor, neither of you wanting this moment to end. When you finally pulled away, the two of you looked at each other sadly. Jughead began to back away, eyes never leaving yours.

“Goodbye.” he said softly.

Tears welled in your eyes again.

“Bye.” you said back, watching him as he turned around, beginning the walk back to the school.

You closed the door, back sliding down on it. You dropped your shoes next to you and looked at the clock.

2:24

You needed to get to bed. You had to be up bright and early tomorrow. Willing yourself not to cry again, you took a deep breath again and got under your covers, not caring you were still wearing your dress or makeup.

The next day. 12 pm.

Jughead Jones sat at his usual booth at Pop’s, staring at his computer. No matter how hard he tried to concentrate, he could seem to get any words out. He looked down at his phone, debating about what he should do. You were gone. He had tried to visit your motel room around noon only to find everything gone. There was no trace of you or the others. You had just… disappeared. It was like you were never there.

Eventually deciding he had nothing to lose, he typed a quick message to you before sending it out, taking a deep breath. 

A guy could try, right?

Across a million billion trillion universes, you settled into one of the chairs in the Bunker, smirking at Dean as he strutted around the main area.

“Ah, it’s good to be back!” Dean exclaimed as he took a swig of beer.

Sam chuckled while Castiel just looked at the eldest Winchester blankly.

After transporting back to your universe, the four of you were now back home after you finally killed the witch who transported you there. You wished that your brothers wouldn’t have to kill her but once you found out she was terrorizing the rest of the town and killing more and more people, you had to put a stop to it.

Your phone’s screen lighting up made you look down at it.

(1) New message from Mr. Jones

Your heartbeat quickened.

Could it be?

You reached for the phone before you stopped yourself. Despite the fact that you were dying to, you didn’t dare open the message. Not yet. Jughead’s words from the night before resonated in your head and you took a deep breath. You had something to do first.

“Hey, guys?” you asked.

The three men turned to you.

“I, um, I have something to tell you.”

Chuck smiled as he watched you and Jughead each in your respective universes.

“Father…” an angel beside him began. “Pardon me for questioning you, but why have you allowed contact via technology between the Winchester girl and Jones boy? They live in different universes. How will they ever see each other again?”

Chuck’s smile didn’t falter.

“They’ll find a way. It’s what Winchesters and Joneses do.”

—————

A/N: That’s it! I hope you guys enjoyed it!! I originally was going to have a much more angsty ending, but I just couldn’t do it (and I love writing angst!)

Taglist

@lydixstiles @jughead-from-riverdale @pinkhappypanda @iamthegoatmaster @subsi4123 @deanskitten @latenightbooknerd @lostinpercyseyes @captainelsaeverdeen @itsjaynebird @allineedisconnor @superoriginalteenwolf @sastielstan @1amluke @satanwithstardust @babearchie @theselfishllama @katshrev @juggiesjuliet @betty-coopers-number-one-stan @imperfectanatomy @casismyguardianangel @irrajj @fangites @apocalypticangell @sparklingriverdale @jvghead-jones-iii @onceuponagladerhead @isabellaskyliner @vodkaluh @tegan-eva @murderyoursoul @regenpony @xbobaaa @farmfreshcoldsprouts @hellolittlebigstudent @audreyxhorne @faithmichaluk @thebloodyshuckface @castawayalicia @lost-in-wonderland-x @holoqraphik @nadya0128 @soulception @jughead-archie-imagines @juggys-betty @twizzlersnizzler @riverdale–trash @barbarachern @likesiriusly @thatsavagehufflepuff @multi-madison @mrs-fangirl @thatcraxygirl15 @frobert20 @miss-mia-rae @buckyplease @myblackwings5 @thecrossroad-demon @writing-in-riverdale @jghdjns-iii @johnmurphys-sass @killjoyloki @the-local-dreamer-star @stephyra17 @reginaphlanageadams @river-vixns @genderabused @wetsknn

Winchesters in Riverdale Taglist

@famchester @prettylies-uglyface @mummastace @lightwoods-arrows @miraculousrain @emmalynnhockey @thoughtfulfandomtrash @nan-the-lemon @diyoceanbeachup22 @gingerfangirlthefeels @yasminepc @thatcrazyfangirlmaze @acambridge @baasooreexiiaa @disappointeddinosaur @lena-lightwood @pathetic-pisces @s-kellington @seninjakitey @cloudy-1-nights @badwolfgirlatbakerst @lcil123 @seiteixnalaicos @enthusiasmisdepressing @music-hoeee @alice-schlipalius @im-a-hufflepuff-what-can-i-say @b0byyy @therealwatermelon @princess-sweatpants @suitelifeofjughead @lxrrystylinsonfucking69 @milkshakejones @daehguj @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom @strxngerluna @belbow @writers-coffee @wayward-mutant @sastielstan @unicornqueen05 @nessy-bearxb @annoyingsibling @team-jessdeservesbetter @forsythependletonjonestheiii @buckyplease @limabeansdunbar @emotionallyenterprised @nobodylastname @jealousbitxh @ohblue @fandomsrlove @jesxthetrashcan @weeping-chickens @enthusiasmisdepressing @amber-styles @annveal-parmesan @idk-what-happened-tbh @king-ivar @kayla-dix0n @weirdunicorn548-blog @juggernaut-jones @devilsbestfriend @iamlilypotter @80sbrokenscene @triscuitcracker @daniellebenamu @kennedyraye @myrabbitholetoneverland @bubblegumcat229 @captainboomerangsunicorn @qxeen-of-hearts @baz-catalano @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @fanstoria @ahsokaslament @catwoman2502 @jughat-jones @cloudyaries @alira100 @miraisnotavailable @hair-dresses @natalieroseg @theeighthwonderofcanada @shadowycomputerrecluse @sittingwithlucifer @rabid-creatures @bitch-ivyxx @carolinebe22 @impracticalfandom @nerdstuff1994 @adammaybeonfire @barbygrozna @passiononfire @ashevery92 @kouhai-leaflet @soupunatural @wordshowers @tragic-lights @smolshadowhunterlee @idkmilla @adammaybeonfire @kitty31177 @phoenixiax @oceanshockey @blackheartedhideout @aestheticolours @fangirlingfanatic2442
@myteenwolf-world @j-rose-r @crowleysfavoritehuman @theriverdaledaleash @aconfusedidentity

Good Kitty

Also on AO3
Chronologically follows “Nightmare Fuel,” but can stand on its own. 


Marinette twirled around, feeling the fabric swing around her legs as it swirled around her.

“Slow it down just a little,” Chat suggested.  "Purrfect.“

His praise made her heart beat a little faster.  Their photoshoot in the evening sunlight of the middle of summer wasn’t the only reason she was warm

"Keep the smile and when I tell you to freeze, I want you to just stop spinning,” he said.  "Got it?“

"Better hurry up before I tip over,” she replied.

“Aaaand… Freeze!”

The skirt of the dress obeyed the laws of physics and continued wrapping around her before eventually swaying back like a pendulum.  The world still seemed to spin around her, and she was relieved to feel his steadying arm around her her a moment later.  "Oooooh.  Sooooo dizzy.“  She laughed.

"I’d like to do a couple more of those to be sure I really captured the swing of the fabric,” he said, brushing his lips against her forehead.  "But you won’t have to twirl so long for those.“

"You’re really good at this stuff,” she said, slipping her arms around his waist, and blinking up at him as Paris continued to rock and sway in her distorted vision.

“Uhhh… I am?” he seemed genuinely surprised.

Keep reading

Giant: Ch. 6

We drifted to survive
I needed you to stay
But I let you drift away
My love where are you?

It just happened, the flurry of it.

Kara never meant for that to happen, and she surely hadn’t counted on Lena reciprocating so eagerly. She never let herself even imagine a world in which that was a fathomable thought. But she ended up holding her against the fridge, and she left a handprint in the door because she was wound so tightly, she couldn’t figure out how to let go. She couldn’t remember ever not being able to control herself. And then Lena Luthor existed.

Keep reading

Gotham Characters Reacting To You Dying And Coming Back To Life

Requested by @bitweird1

Jim Gordon

“Is that Y/N Y/L/N? Isn’t she dead? What the hell?” He ran a hand over his face. “Why am I surprised? Everyone I know who’s died in the past year has come back to life. Jerome Valeska, Fish Mooney, Theo Galavan…” Jim took a deep sigh. “That’s it. I need a drink.”

Oswald Cobblepot

“Are you kidding me, Butch? Y/N Y/L/N’s alive?” Oswald screeched. “Can anyone in the god forsaken city stay dead?!” He sighed, shaking his head. “I mean, it’s not like Y/N’s a bad person, but… God! All this resurrection is making me tired. She just better not turn all crazy killer like the other ones.”

Barbara Kean

“Y/N!” Barbara said, pulling you to her with one arm. “Damn, am I glad to see you alive. Long time no see, huh?” She kissed your cheek. “We got work to do.”

Edward Nygma

“Y/N Y/L/N! Oooh, I’ve heard the rumors that you’ve returned. Y’know, from the grave.” Edward smiled. You couldn’t tell if it was genuine or cruel. You could never tell with him. “Well, hi! Again. Nice to see you not dead, I suppose.”

Bruce Wayne

“Y/N?” Bruce stared you in disbelief for a moment, before everything registered. “Y/N!” He cried, wrapping you up in a hug. “You’re alive! Oh my god! I thought… we all thought you were dead!”

Selina Kyle

Selina was in denial. “How do I even know that it’s really you? With all the shit going on with Hugo Strange, how do I know you’re not some weird clone?” You took a deep breath. “You’re just gonna have to trust me, Selina. Please.”

Alfred Pennyworth

“Miss Y/L/N? You’re alive?” Alfred sighed - you couldn’t tell if it was from relief or exasperation - and wrapped you in a hug. “Bloody hell.”

Jerome Valeska

“Oooh! Y/N Y/L/N, alive again!” Jerome commented, twirling around dramatically. He patted your shoulder. “I’ve been there. But, no need to worry, kiddo.” He smiled. “You get use to it.”

Tabitha Galavan

“So,” Tabitha drawled. “You’re alive again, huh?” She shook her head. “This should be interesting, to say the last.”

Lee Thompkins

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Lee said. “I mean, I’m glad you’re back, but can’t someone in this city stay, you know, dead?!”

Sid

“Damn, I thought being an experiment of a crazy man in the basement of a mental asylum was crazy, but being raised from the dead?” Sid scoffed. “That’s just ridiculous.”

Nancy

Nancy sighed. “I’ve heard the rumors, but I didn’t think someone could actually come back.” She winked. “Nice to have you back, though.”

no one else

the morning after a few too many drinks, you discover you called someone you haven’t spoken to in months, someone harry’s not too happy you contacted.

i always feel really uncomfy writing smut its just not my thing but i’m trying for you guys lmao

that said, warning: smut.

masterlist

let me know what you think

There was a soft knock at my apartment door and my friend Julia kicked me in bed, “Get the door,” She muttered, “Pro'ly your boyfriend.”

I took my time getting out of bed and Harry knocked again. I swung the door open and barely looked at him before climbing back into bed.

"Hey,” Harry said, scanning the room full of scattered alcohol bottles all at various stages of emptiness, “Heard you had a rough night.”

“Don’t talk so loud.” I said and pulled the covers over my head. I felt the bed shift as he sat down and rubbed a hand down my back. I sighed and pulled the covers down so I could see him and he was smiling slightly at me, a bit of sympathy in his eyes. “Can you hold me for a bit?”

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“there’s this girl” (anthony ramos/reader)

summary: you know these conversations. you know them well. you know the slowly drawn out voices, you know the endless glasses of wine, you know the words spun carefully with delicate thread. and you know that these conversations never end well for you. because, as you said, there is always a girl, and that girl is never you. no matter how much you want it to be.

word count: 1397

a/n: lmao hi read this fic its incoherent and messy but i had so much fun writing it, it’s my first anthony fic so who could i dedicate it to except @linmanuclmiranda? i wrote this mostly for her, but it was so fun to write that i think i’m going to write a part 2 of it. also i’m not saying i wrote the whole thing in lowercase for aesthetic purposes but what do you expect from the worlds most extra bitch? i’m also tagging @femilton because she mentioned something yesterday about me not writing any anthony fics, i think her exact words were “kate needs more anthony fics and so do i” so here’s an anthony fic lmao

warnings: none, this is pure fluff lmao


“there’s this girl.”

anthony’s words echo out through the room. a gentle beginning. tugging at ropes and twisting them into pathways. it’s a night like any other. you and anthony. these are the nights that make you feel comfortable. safe. whether it’s the look in his eyes, the flow of the conversation, or the neverending glasses of wine.

anthony is sitting on the window sill. eyes cast out the window, watching rain trickle down the glass.

a tiny smirk toys at the corners of your lips. “there’s always a girl, ant. isn’t there?”

you regard your best friend of 5 years through knowing eyes. you reckoned you’d heard anthony speak these exact words approximately a thousand times, but even so, you’d sit here on nights like these and listen a thousand times more. because that’s what you’re here for. to listen.

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Meant to Be (Part One)

Originally posted by illgif4you

Originally posted by sproings

Part 1 - Part 2Part 3

Based on Anonymous Prompt: The reader is a SHIELD agent and later Avenger. After a while of dancing around each other, she and Steve are couple but few months later they break up becasue it didn’t work (but they stay close friends please). After a while Steve falls for Sharon and reader falls for Bucky who loved her since he first met her (but he didn’t do enything because she was with Steve). And Steve and Sharon (who are couple now) try to matchmake reader and Bucky because Cap sees they are perfect for each other

A/N: Sorry guys it’s gotten busy again.  I’m trying, I promise.  I decided to split this prompt into two parts (also, I made the relationship with Steve more of back story, because I couldn’t figure out how to write it and then switch gears for Bucky).  Hope it’s not too terrible and I’ll publish the second part (hopefully) soon!  Also I was low-key inspired by that Seb work-out video

Tagging @pleasecallmecaptain @mattymattymerduck @writingbarnes @kissofvenom922 @b-orderline @shamvictoria11 @callingmrsbarnes

-

“When are you going to ask Bucky out?” Steve asks, smirking at you from across the table.  You roll your eyes and wrinkle your nose.

“When are you going to ask Sharon out?” you toss back.

“I asked you first.”

“My question’s more relevant.”

“Why’s that?”

“Cuz Sharon’s coming over her––Hi, Sharon!”  

You laugh at the look of panic on Steve’s face before he’s able to compose his face.  He turns and smiles at Sharon whose lips curve up into a smile.

“Hey Steve,” she says.

“Good to see you, Sharon,” he replies.

“It’s almost like I’m not even here,” you joke and Steve rolls his eyes at you.  Sharon laughs and pulls you into a hug.

“It’s been a while, (Y/N),” she laughs.  “When are you gonna come train with me again?”

“When I feel like getting my ass handed to me,” you reply.  “Maybe you and Steve should train together.  I feel like you’d be more evenly matched.”

“I doubt it,” she grins.  “Can’t expect to keep up with Captain America.  See you later, Steve.”  With that, she walks away, leaving Steve staring hopelessly after her.  You shake your head and punch him in the arm.

“Hey!”

“Perfect opportunity,” you say.  “I practically asked her out on a date for you.  You could’ve jumped in.”  He shakes his head and you press on.  “What’s that thing you said, that one time?  You’re the world’s expert on waiting, or something?  So don’t?”

“That was different,” Steve insists.  “I was giving Bruce advice about Nat.”

“Terrible advice really,” you say.  “They make no sense together.  But the advice still applies to you.  You guys like each other, so ask her out already!”

“When most people say they’re still friends with their exes, I don’t think this is what they mean,” Steve sighs.

“We’re like, barely exes,” you reply.  “We dated for a few months and then I realized I was not attracted to you.”

“Hey!”

“I know, that’s what I thought!” you joke.  “How is it possible for me not be attracted to this beautiful dork of a man?  But alas, it was never meant to be.”

“You’re the dork here,” Steve says.  “We both knew we were better of as friends.”

“Yeah and you’re one of the lucky ones,” you tease.  “At least I’m not still hopelessly in love with you or trying to set your possessions on fire.”

“Honestly, I’d prefer that,” Steve mutters and you shove him playfully.

“I’m just looking out for you,” you say, shaking your head.  “You know I’m right.”

“I do,” he says.  “And that’s why I asked her out two weeks ago.  Back to you and Bucky.”

“I’m sorry, wait what was that?” you smirk.  “Did you just admit I’m right?  And you already asked Sharon out?!?”

“Which one are you more excited about?” Steve asks.

“You and Sharon!?!?” you grin.  “Finally!  How did it happen?  What are you doing?  Where are you going?  When is it?”

“We already went out,” Steve says and you internally scream.  “(Y/N), are you okay?”

“So you’ve just let me spend the past two weeks trying to get the two of you together?” you groan.  “Do you know how many times I’ve traded crazy shifts and missions to get the two of you together?”

“That was you?” Steve laughs.  “I was wondering why we always seemed to be paired up.”

“And you didn’t notice that I always seemed to be on graveyard shifts and shitty missions?” you shake your head.  “Way to be a good friend, Steve.”

“Let me return the favor,” he says.  “You and Bucky.”

“Yes, we are both people that have stupidly decided to be friends with you,” you reply and Steve rolls his eyes.

“(Y/N), you know what I mean,” he says.

“Honestly, no I don’t,” you say.  

“So you’re trying to tell me there’s nothing between the two of you?” Steve asks.  “No spark of romance?  No unspoken tension?  You guys are meant to be.”

“What are you, a romance writer?” you ask.

“Classic evasion,” Steve says.  “Answering my question with another question.”

“Don’t profile me,” you retort.

“Then answer the question,” Steve smirks.  He cocks an eyebrow as you stare him down, willing him to give up.  He doesn’t.

“He’s cute,” you sigh begrudgingly.

“That’s what I thought,” Steve says.

“You thought that Bucky was cute?” you tease.

“Are you free for dinner tomorrow?” he asks.

“No, I have another one of the dumb shifts I traded trying to get the two of you together,” you frown.

“Day after that?” Steve asks.  

“I’m free,” you admit and Steve immediately pulls out his phone, tapping out a quick message.  Your eyes narrow.  “Why?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Steve smiles and you shake your head.

“Not even a little bit.”

-

Sharon walks down the hallway, pausing as her phone vibrates.  She reads the message with a quick smile and heads down the corridor towards the gym.

She pushes the door open, walking up to the only occupant.

“Bucky,” she says and the super soldier lets go of his pull-up bar, dropping to the ground.  “You busy two nights from now?”

Family drama


Summary (i lost the request)
: The reader is Veronica’s sister who went to private school for a while.  When her father is sent to prison she returns to her sister and mother, however family drama leaves Veronica wanting revenge, and she’s determined to squash your chances at a new life in Riverdale.

A/N: This was a HUGE request, and trying to fit it into a reasonably sized imagine was a struggle.  Like it’s the plot to a whole fanfic, that I just don’t have the time for right now.  I think I’m okay with how it turned out, and if you all want a part two, there’s definitely material for one.

See my other stuff here

Word count: 904 words

Warnings: None

Originally posted by garslogan

“I like to start off my tours with a little bit of history…” Betty started introducing the school to you, but was quickly interrupted.

“She doesn’t need to know any of this,” Veronica snapped.  “Just show her her period one class and then we’ll go.”

“Ronnie,” you sighed, tugging on your backpack strap.  

“No!  I don’t allow traitors in my squad.” She tugged on the hem of her skirt.  “Betty, I’m sure she’ll find her own way.”

Betty sent you sorry eyes before letting Veronica pull her away.  

“I can do this,” you murmured to yourself, walking off in the other direction.

Were you used to not having your sister around?  No.  Had you managed on your own before?  Yes.  

However, Riverdale high was much bigger than your own school, and within just a few moments you were hopelessly lost.  

“Need some help?” You turned around to find a boy much taller than you leaning against some lockers.  “I’m Reggie.  You the new lodge?” His eyes moving over your figure, you nodded hesitantly.  “It shows.”

“Excuse you,” you huffed.  “Don’t be disgusting.  It’ll never work in your favor.”

“Don’t be snappy,” he took a few steps in your direction, arms crossed over his chest.  “It’ll never work in your favor.”

“Piss off, Reggie.” You looked over your shoulder to see another boy your age.  “You can get to know each other another time.”

“Whatever freak,” Reggie dismissed him, turning on his heel.

You smiled warmly, looking to the mystery boy.  “Thank you…”

“Jughead.  Jones, the third.” You laughed at the pacing of his introduction.  “You’re giving off this lost puppy vibe, and while I’m no tour guide, it’s unlike me to leave someone stranded.”

And so it was just like that, you had your first friend.  

You and Jughead were a good match for one another.  Both wonderfully pessimistic, dramatic, and sarcastic, you two made fast friends.  

It was a month or so after you started going to Riverdale high when you made something more.  As much as you both would like to say it was something unique, some strange scenario that resulted in you two together, but in all honesty, it was the usual fade from sitting on opposite sides of a booth at Pop’s, to cuddling on the same side.

“I still don’t understand, why is she so mad at you?” Jughead had asked one night, turning away from his laptop screen to catch your microexpressions.  You bit down on your bottom lip, eyes flitting to the table and then back up to your boyfriend.  

“I knew about our dad… before he… you know.  I didn’t tell anyone.” His eyes seemed to frown, blue pools reflecting the sadness you knew was in your own.  “But I mean, how could I?  Veronica is close with Mom, and so was I, but I was always Daddy’s little girl.  I think part of me didn’t want to think any of it was true.  That he couldn’t do such a thing… I was wrong.  And he dragged me down with him.  He told my mom, and then my mom told Veronica.   Veronica thinks I’m a traitor now or something dramatic because I didn’t tell her.  I lost a best friend, and I kinda deserved it.”

Jughead sighed, “You didn’t deserve that.  I don’t want to say she would’ve done the same thing, because honestly I don’t know.  But I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

“Thanks, Juggy.”  You rested your head against his shoulder, his lips coming down on your forehead.  

That was probably one of the better days, however soon it was obvious the plan that Veronica had been enacting this whole time.  

With Betty enlisting Jughead into the Blue and Gold, he was spending more and more time with Betty, and less and less time with you.   

“Juggy, I miss you,” you sighed, looking at him across the table in your regular booth.  “I don’t want to be one of those clingy people.  If you’re trying to distance yourself… because this isn’t working.  Then just end it.  I’ve been on the other side of relationships like this, and you don’t deserve that.”

Jughead barely looked up from his laptop screen which you knew had an article for the Blue and Gold on it.  “Yeah, yeah.  I agree.” You knew his words were just a product of him not listening, that he was giving a general response to fit into most conversations, but even that was enough for you.

You wrung your hands in front of you, shaking your head.  “I’ll do you a favor.  We’re done.”

“Wait what?” You turned before he could see your face, ignoring him.  On your way out, you caught Veronica in a booth just down the way.  You decided you’d confront your once best friend, the only thing you knew how to do well.  

“Veronica,” you greeted sharply, sitting beside Archie, opposite Veronica.  “I know you and I have issues, but I want you to know that either way, I’d be breaking someone’s heart.  I’m sorry I chose wrongly, and I hope one day you can stop trying your hardest to leave me alone, to leave me miserable.  You’re my sister, my best friend.  That will never change.” Her face was that of someone who was completely caught off guard.  You nodded a goodbye to her friends, shaking your head at Jughead, and leaving Pop’s once and for all.  

Belong (Hamilsquad x Reader)

AN: It’s late and I am definitely not getting enough sleep tonight, but here it is!

Tag Crew: @huffleheyguys @artisticgamer @theoverlordofeverything @hmltntrsh51 @iamnotthrowingawaymyshit2 @hamilton4starwars @megabooklover18 @jantales

Request: @wonderfullyrandomhamilton - Polyhamilsquad where they find out the reader isn’t eating? I’m in need of comfort/angst/fluff. If you’re cool with that of course.

Warnings: eating disorder related things

Word Count: 1,627

Masterlist

The bedroom was freezing, so you slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake Alex or John up. Laf and Herc both snored obnoxiously loud and were exiled to the guest room that you had to sneak past on your way to the living room. All you wanted was to sit in front of the fireplace, but Laf had insisted on an older home where everything squeaked because he needed the “character.” You were never able to sleep through the boys coming home later from work or midnight snacks or other late night activities. It was a beautiful house, Laf refused anything else, but it had taken you much trial and error to figure out exactly how to move around the house without waking anyone up.

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Wash the Sea [4x21 coda]

Rated G/T (non-sexy nakedness)
Mentions of AIDA/Fritz, all the grossness in canon
Thanks to @agentcalliope for beta-ing and making me finish writing it


He must have known Jemma was behind him because he didn’t flinch upon her reaching his hand around his front and ghosting her fingers over the buttons of his shirt.

“This is inconvenient,” she tried to joke.

Fitz said nothing.  He couldn’t.  What was there to say?  He stared ahead at the steam from the shower.  He had turned it on, hadn’t he?  She had told him to go take a shower and he had tried.  He could not stop himself from tensing when she pressed her face into his back.

“You’re safe now, Fitz.  She can’t hurt you anymore.”

He bit his lip, but it only muffled the sob that broke through him.  Still, he didn’t move.  She slipped her other hand around to hold him closer.

“I’m safe,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder as he bowed his head.  “Let me help you.”

Slowly, still standing behind him, she began unbuttoning his shirt.

“I know what it feels like,” she said softly.  “Not what you’re going through, not what you’re thinking.  But I know what it feels like to wish all the feeling would just stop.”

He let out a choked sob.  “How do you do it?”

“Oh, Fitz.”  She finished his shirt and pulled it off before moving to his undershirt.  “May I?”  When he nodded, she slowly began untucking his undershirt.  “I try and convince myself that you would hurt just as much in a world without me as I would hurt in a world without you.”  She helped him pull the undershirt over his head and rest her fingers on his belt buckle.  “I’m always here, Fitz, in whatever capacity you need me.”

He moved his hand to cover hers, interlocking their fingers and clumsily guiding her through undoing his belt.  Together, they finished undressing him and he turned in her arms.  He ran his fingers down her sides, catching in the tie of her robe.

“Always prepared,” he said, wrapping his arms loosely around her, as though unsure if he was permitted to touch her or not.

She took a step closer to him, burying her face in his neck and curling her hands in his hair so he would do the same.  “Is this okay?”

Something in him seemed to break and he tighten his hold around her.

“I smell like the ocean,” he said.  He let out a sob and Jemma held him as tightly as she could, supporting his weight completely.

“I know,” she said.  She could feel his tears dripping down her neck.  “But you’re still here.”  She turned her head so she could kiss his jaw.  “And so am I.  And I’m not going anywhere.  Never again.  You’re stuck with me.”  She pressed her forehead to his.  “You’ll feel better if you shower.”

He shook his head and wrapped his fingers around the tie of her robe.  “Jemma…”

“You never have to ask me.”

Slowly, he undid the tie and let her robe fall to the floor along with his clothes.  She led him into the shower, allowing him to stand in the corner, outside of the spray of water.  She took the washcloth, wetted it, and began to rub it slowly over his body as he shut his eyes.  She turned to open his body wash, but he grabbed her wrist.

“The other,” he said.  “Yours.”

She laughed.  “You want to use my soap?”

“It smells like you.”

Without a word, Jemma poured a generous amount of her body wash onto the cloth and returned to cleaning Fitz, slowly and delicately.

“Things won’t be better tomorrow,” she told him.  “Not the next day either.  But one day, they will be.”

“I don’t think I deserve it.”

She sighed and stepped closer to him.  “Then we’ll have to agree to disagree.  For now at least.  I’ll fight you a little more tomorrow.”  

His mouth twitched as he tried to smile.

“Fitz,” she said softly.  “Don’t I deserve to be happy?”

“Of course you do!”

“Well, I’m happiest with you.  So when you’re ready to hold me and to be held by me, I will be held by you and I will hold you.  And when you’re ready to kiss me, I will be there to kiss you.  When you’re ready to flirt in public just to make Daisy uncomfortable, I will flirt right back at you.  And–” she took a deep breath and ran the washcloth over his left hand– “when you’re ready to marry me, I’ll marry you.”

Fitz looked at her with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape.  Jemma squeezed his hand.

“Not everyone who gets to say their android doppleganger spoiled their proposal.”

Fitz smiled at that but shook his head.  “I’m sorry if…if it got your hopes…I don’t know…”

“Fitz.”

He stopped and looked at her.

“Fitz, I’m not asking you to marry me.  I’m just telling you that it doesn’t matter what happened there.  I mean it does, it matters a lot and it matters that she– it did that to you.  But not for that.  Not for us.  So we’re going to keep working and keep fighting and one day, whether it’s in six months or six years, we are going to be happy.  Because we deserve happiness.  You deserve happiness.”

Fitz shut his eye but squeezed her hand tighter.  “And if…” he whispered, trailing off.  He pulled at her, causing her to step closer.  “Jemma, I’m scared.”

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed a soft kiss over his heart.  “That’s okay,” she said.  “Just remember that, every single day, I am proud to be loved by you.”

He nodded against her, tears mixing with water on her shoulder.  But he held her close, willing to rely on her, as always, to wash the sea away.

naryle  asked:

so, for your botw zelink fanfic, can you maybe do like a re-imagining of the scene where Link tells Zelda the reason why he doesn't talk ( as stated in the diary )?

Today was the day. After the events of yesterday, Zelda had come to the realization that she needed to talk things out with her appointed knight. With Link. There was miscommunication between them, if that’s what you could call it. He never spoke a word, and that was probably why she misinterpreted him so badly. But she assumed the worst of him and let it show, and now was the time to put things right.

After she got dressed and left her room, she waited for her knight to arrive. Usually she would go on without him, uneager to have him join her, but not today. So when he finally arrived, the surprise in his eyes was unmistakeable.

“Good morning.” She said, and he nodded to her. “Link, could I talk to you privately?” She clasped her hands in front of her, fingers fidgeting together nervously. She had thought over what she was going to say all night, sleeping restlessly over it. Now it was time that she put all that had transpired between them to rest.

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You are, you are, all the wonder in the world

Request: College klance where Keith is like bullied or something in some way gets incredibly hurt and acts like nothing is wrong but it keeps getting worse and worse and Well my boy lance is super worried

Summary: Keith keeps getting hurt. And every time he does he insists the same thing: ‘I’m fine.’ ‘It’s nothing I swear, Lance.’ ‘I can handle this myself.’ But how many times is Lance supposed to accept the lie? Brush off his worries and patch up Keith’s wounds? How many times does he have left before Keith gets so hurt he can never stand back up again?

P.S. I finally discovered how to make words italic after two goddamn years on this website.


The first time, Lance let it drop. Chose to believe Keith’s words and bury his worry, whittle away the time until Keith was willing to talk. He wasn’t badly injured. Lance was safe to wait a while.


‘Hey, Keith? That you, babe? I thought you were gonna be back an hour..-‘ Lance paused, head hanging around the doorframe, eyes popped and mouth drawn wide. ‘-…ago..’

Keith was limping. One foot steady, the other hobbled, he inched his way through the door with a face like thunder and a greeting to match.

‘Don’t ask, not talking,’

‘..Okay,’ Lance sung, spinning his heels to follow Keith’s figure as it passed towards the bathroom. Lance’s eyebrows raised in question as he noticed the backpack usually slung haphazard across Keith’s back, now clutched tight to his chest, protected. ‘Well.. when you get done with whatever emo shit you’re doing in there, I’m ordering pizza,’

Keith’s voice clamoured around the clang of the door in the frame. ‘Not hungry - order without me,’

‘What?! Keith - you’ve been looking forwards to pizza night all week!’

‘Have not.. Still not talking, Lance,’

‘You said - and I quote - ‘I would die before I miss pizza night, these midterms are kicking my ass, and I need the cheesy sustenance to live’,’

A grinding crash echoed from the closed bathroom door, eliciting a yelp from Lance’s lips. Twisting the knob, he pushed into the room, eyes scanning the entrance in search of the source, and found to his horror, Keith splayed out on the floor in a pile of books, muddied beyond all saving or repair.

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