i want to climb him up and just cling to him

#eighth year #angst #bed sharing

Prompts: @the-yellowsubmarine
Author: @queenofthyme

Harry woke up to a half-naked Draco Malfoy standing over his bed. At first he thought he was still dreaming until Malfoy called out to him:

“Potter. Potter, wake up.”

In Harry’s dreams, Malfoy always called him Harry.

“What the fuck, Malfoy?” Harry had been having a delightful dream in which Malfoy – although he was known to Harry as Draco in the dream – had confessed his affections to Harry and asked him to ride on a unicorn with him into space.

True – Harry was pleased to wake up to the real Malfoy’s naked chest. But it left him with an inconvenient problem beneath the sheets which he couldn’t really take care of with Malfoy staring down at him like that. Well, actually, that was another fantasy of his, but he expected in this situation, Malfoy would probably just punch him, rather than join in.

“I want to switch beds.” Malfoy said.

Harry frowned, looking over to Malfoy’s vacant four poster. The sheets were thrown wide, the pillow on the floor beside it. “Why?”

“There’s something wrong with that bed. I think it’s haunted.”

“You think the bed is haunted?” Harry repeated sceptically.

Malfoy crossed his arms over his (naked!) chest. “Yes.”

“And you want me to sleep in it?”

Malfoy shrugged. “Better you than me.”

“Absolutely not.” Harry rolled away from Malfoy. He was tired. And he wanted to finish his dream.

“So, you believe me that it’s haunted then?” Malfoy asked. A clear challenge.

“No,” Harry clarified into his pillow, “I just don’t see why I should have to be inconvenienced because of your paranoia.”

“You’re already awake, and I’m going to stand here until you agree.”

Harry knew he would too. Malfoy was persistent.

“Fine.” Harry jumped up and scrambled into the other bed. He retrieved the pillow from the floor, readjusted the sheets and settled in. Haunted or not, Harry could tell he was going to have a good sleep now. The bed smelt like Malfoy. That would complement Harry’s dreams nicely.

Sleep came quickly.

Harry was in the Department of Mysteries. At the end of one of the long corridors he saw it – a curtain. He knew Sirius was right behind the curtain. He glided forward. If he could just reach it – but a hand pulled him back. He turned around to find hundreds of inferi crawling towards him, the closest one with a grip on his arm that was tightening, bruising his skin, crushing the bone beneath. He tried to scream but all that came out was a hiss.

Harry was in Little Hangleton Graveyard. The tombstones were so large they towered over his head, the engravings with big wiry letterings spelling out the names of the dead. Lily Potter. James Potter. Cedric Diggory. Sirius Black. Albus Dumbledore. Hedwig. Dobby. Fred Weasley. Collin Creevey. Remus Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks. Severus Snape. And the last – the biggest tombstone of them all: Tom Marvolo Riddle Junior. Beneath it, the earth was shaking, the dirt crumbling away. The Dark Lord was returning.

Harry was in The Forbidden Forest. A high-pitched laughter rang in his ears. The sky flashed green. The trees were whispering, telling him to turn back, telling him to run. But his feet kept walking forward. The trees grew sparse. He was almost at the clearing. And when he reached it, he was going to die.

Harry woke up in a sweat, his heart beat threatening to rip the organ from his chest. He threw the sheets away, and tried to calm himself with deep breaths, but the scenes from his dreams – no, his nightmares – flashed in front of his eyes over and over again. Maybe Malfoy was right – maybe the bed really was haunted.

He pulled himself up, ignoring the heaviness of his head. As soon as he was off the bed, he felt instantly calmer. He could still remember the nightmares but they were no longer pining him down with their weight. No longer crawling under his skin. It was no wonder Malfoy wanted to swap beds.

Harry looked over to his own bed. Malfoy was fast asleep. It wasn’t fair that he got to have the unicorn space dreams (Harry could only presume) in Harry’s bed, while Harry had scary death nightmares in his. He walked over.

“Malfoy.” Harry prodded Malfoy’s side. “Malfoy.”

Malfoy grumbled as he slowly regained consciousness. “Stop it, Potter. I’m sleeping.”

“I want my bed back.”

“I thought you said it wasn’t haunted.”

“I was wrong,” Harry said stiffly. He didn’t much like admitting it, especially not to his ex-rival whom he currently had the hots for. 

Malfoy smiled, his eyes still closed. “Say that again.”

“I was wrong,” Harry repeated with a sigh. “Can I have my bed back now?”

“I’m not going back there.”

“Well, neither am I,” Harry retorted. He didn’t fancy another trip to the Forbidden Forest.

Malfoy rolled over to the edge of the bed, his back to Harry. “Get in then.”

Harry knew he had heard wrong. “Excuse me?”

“Just don’t hog the covers,” Malfoy continued, “and you better not drool in your sleep.”

Harry hesitated, looking back at Malfoy’s bed. He already knew he wouldn’t be going back there. Not tonight. He suspected someone had cursed it, and he was already planning his revenge for when he found out who, but for now, there wasn’t anything else to do but sleep. And he wasn’t going to get much on the floor.

Not to mention, the thought of sleeping with – well, sleeping next to – Malfoy was all kinds appealing. Scary, and awkward and embarrassing of course. But very appealing.

He climbed into the bed slowly, careful not to accidentally touch or jostle Malfoy in any way. He didn’t want to seem like he was taking advantage of the situation. He had no idea what Malfoy thought about it. Thought about him.

Harry managed to orient himself in bed so no part of his body was touching Malfoy’s. True - it left him almost falling off the side, but it was a minor discomfort. A necessity to keep a healthy, platonic space between him and Malfoy.

When he fell asleep, he was pleased to return to a journey of space travel with Draco on their magical unicorn.

But it was nothing compared to waking up the next morning with Malfoy, the real Malfoy, snuggled into his chest, an arm tightly clinging to his torso.

And that, in turn, was nothing compared to when Malfoy sniffled in his sleep and mumbled: “Hmmm, Harry.”

Perhaps he wouldn’t be seeking revenge on whoever cursed Malfoy’s bed after all. 

more like this l @queenofthyme

they call her maid maleen

for the first few trembling years of her life, she is a princess. she is the daughter to the king, born of his beloved wife and of her visage. her dark eyes have the appearance of a smoky quarts and her mother carefully twists her mass of black hair into a hundred small braids down her back. she is a beautiful, quiet child, and for a while all is well. they call her princess maleen.

then her mother dies. it seems as if the king is determined to bury his love for his daughter along with his queen. he moves her to a different wing of the castle, and refuses to see her. her tutors are let go, and the nobles’ children are no longer allowed to play with her. only the maids look after her now.

the king remarries. the new queen gives birth to a son, and maleen is forgotten completely, banished from a home she still resides in and a life she can now only watch unfold.

the maids take care of her, braid her hair and kiss the blisters on her fingers, teach her to scrub at porcelain and polish silver, to clean a fireplace and mop polished marble floors.

they call her maid maleen.

~

the king has a son by his new wife, and then a daughter. they are pale and fair-haired like their mother, with only their dark eyes to show they are the king’s children. but they inherit none of their parents’ beauty, have faces that don’t look quite right and bodies that get stuck between gangly and chubby and never settle into one or the other. princess gisella and prince jan are privately regarded as unfortunate products of a lovely union.

maid maleen spends long hours working, and has neither the time nor funds for creams to soften her skin or oils to care for her hair, has never used face powder or lip color.

maid maleen is twenty three years old, and the most beautiful woman in the kingdom.

her braids are wrapped carefully atop her head, but when she lets them loose they hang past her hips. her dark skin is made even darker thanks to long hours working in the palace garden, and her eyes have never lost that same curious light. she walks straight and strong, years of hard labor giving her muscles and definition to her body that she never would have had as a princess. boys and girls give her long, considering looks and flirtatious smiles, and nobles have to double-take when she passes them by.

no one speaks of it anymore. but maid maleen looks ever more like her beautiful late mother, has the same eyes as her father, and dressing in ill-fitting cast offs and running her ragged can’t hide the truth.

maid maleen is the king’s daughter.

she has accepted her life as a maid in the palace she was one day set to inherit, and tries to see it as a gift. she sleeps with who she likes, may marry whichever of the charming boys from the city who’s smile she likes best. in the maids who raised her she has more mothers than she has fingers, and perhaps she longs for the days when she was a small princess, when she was the apple of her parents’ eye, when the whole of their nation was to be hers to inherit.

but then the blacksmith’s daughter lets her hands linger a little too long on her wrists, and maleen knows that she won’t be sleeping alone tonight. there are some things that worth more to her than a throne she was born to. she doesn’t miss the little girl she used to be.

until.

tensions have always run high between their kingdom and the neighboring one – too many squabbles over borders, over trade agreements, over patrols, over anything and everything the kings can find a reason to be upset about, it seems like. so when prince wolfgang is sent over, the whole palace is abuzz. the prince seems determined to inherit a peaceful land, and is coming over to talk with the king to do it.

maleen does not care for princes. nor for nobles of any rank, in fact. she remembers how they turned on her, she sees the small acts of pettiness and cruelty they thoughtlessly inflict on their servants, and she wants nothing to do with it. commoners may not be as educated as nobles, may not have as many objects to call their own, but maleen finds she prefers their company to that of lords. she’s uninterested in this prince, which is perhaps why she’s the one that gets sent to his rooms. her moms can trust that she at least won’t fawn over him.

“sir wolfgang,” she murmurs, pushing open his door and giving a low curtsy, keeping her eyes trained on his mud covered boots. “is there anything you require?”

silence. she can only stay bent in a curtsey so long before she loses patience. she’s almost given up on him, is about to cut her losses and call it a night when he says, hesitant, “queen sabine?”

her mother’s name is punch to her gut, and her head snaps up at the sound of it, the rolling fire of her temper bubbling just below her skin. “i am maid maleen,” she snaps, then tacks on “your highness,” after a moment’s consideration.

his cloak is half unbuttoned as he stares at her with a slack mouth. she supposes he would not look unhandsome if he were not currently doing his best to imitate a frog. he appears to be only a handful of years older than she is, and if she were not furious she would be impressed that he remembers her mother well enough to see sabine in her.

“maleen,” he repeats, and for a moment she wonders if he will recognize her as well, but he only says, “my apologies. if you would help me with my cloak, i would be much obliged.”

she’s instantly suspicious. she’s met nice nobles before, ones that were considerate and remembered her name and thanked her when she brought them wine. but she’s never met a nice prince before – they’re always of the worst sort. “yes, your highness,” she says, and the cloak is soaked through and clinging, it’s no wonder he’s struggling with it. once she’s gotten it off she hangs it to dry, then goes back to him. she slaps away his numb, struggling fingers and undoes the rest of the buckles and loops of his overly complicated clothing. she’s gotten down him down to an undershirt and pants when his hands grab hers. she blinks and looks up. he has freckles dusting across his nose.

“this is inappropriate,” he says, but honestly she’s stripped a lot of nobles, it wasn’t weird until he took her hands and looked at her like no one’s ever looked at her before.

“yes, your highness,” she agrees, and takes a step back. she places his clothes in front of a fire, curtsies, and leaves. she can feel the weight of his gaze on her all the way back to her room.

wolfgang continues his diplomatic agenda, having long meetings with the royal family. after, maleen goes and tends to him, setting out his food and taking care of his clothes, straightening up any mess that he’s made. at first he’s quiet, and he just watches her, but he quickly discovers that maleen has opinions and thoughts and isn’t afraid to share them. soon they’re debating the finer points of trade routes and arguing the effectiveness of a sliding tax scale, and maleen comes to cherish the evenings she spends with the prince, likes the way he speaks to her and looks at her, likes the shape of his smile.

weeks in she enters his room, dinner steaming in her hands and eager to continue their conversation about state funded orphanages versus a state funded foster system. he’s pacing and tense, shoulder stiff. “wolfgang,” she sets down the food and wipes her hands on her apron, “is something wrong?”

“is it true?” he asks, and he’s not looking at her. he’s always looked at her before.

“is what true?” she flinches away from his coldness, is already preparing to retreat and hide and beg someone else to watch over him.

he turns to her, and she’s baffled by the mixture of hope and anger on his face. “are you the king’s daughter? are you princess maleen?”

she takes a step back, “i am maid maleen.”

“please,” he follows her as she steps away from him, and her back hits the wall. he stops when he’s almost close enough to touch. “my father sent me here with the goal to seal our new treaty with a marriage. he expects me to marry princess gisella. but if you are the daughter of the king – then he will allow me to marry you instead!”

“who says i want to marry you?” she retorts, but he gets on bended knee and she freezes.

he holds a hand for her own, and against every bit of logic, she gives it to him. “maleen, i’ve never felt this way about anyone. i was willing enough to enter a loveless marriage before i knew what true love is, but now i do, and i can’t go back. marry me.”

she wants to. she thinks she loves him. she hadn’t been planning to fall in love with anyone. “i am the king’s daughter,” she tells him, “but i am no princess. i haven’t been a princess in a long time.”

he brings her hand to his mouth so he can kiss each one of her knuckles, “then we’ll have to change that.”

~

wolfgang goes to the king to make his case, to return maleen to her birthright and allow her to marry him.

it goes even worse than maleen had feared.

her father is furious. he’s so angry at the audacity of this request that prince wolfgang is thrown from the kingdom. so incensed is he, that guards drag maleen from her bed in the middle of the night and throw her into a tower. the door closes shut behind them, and she bangs on it and screams but no one comes for her.

there are no windows, and only one door with a sliding metal grate in the bottom. she’s high in the tower, she thinks, from the number of steps she’d been forced to climb, but she stands on a dirt floor. the room contains only the bare minimum needed for survival, and nothing more.

once a week food is slid through the slot in the door. she has to be careful, because if she eats it too fast they will not provide more, she will just starve. days turn to weeks turn to months, and she despairs of ever being let out of this tower. months turn to years, and she gives up hope entirely of leaving this tower. she considers refusing to eat, killing herself slowly through starvation, because death is preferable to life locked in this tower.

one night there’s a scuffle, and shouting, and for the first time since she was shoved inside the door opens. there’s a guard standing there, and princess gisella tentatively steps inside. “maid ma – i mean, maleen?”

maleen stares. this is the first time she’s seen another person in years, and suddenly for all the screaming she’d done she can’t find her voice. gisella takes another cautious step forward, “maleen, please – we don’t have much time.” she holds out her hand, “come with me.”

gisella is sixteen now. although she’ll never be a great beauty, she’s grown into many of the features that she was once mocked for. “where?” she asks, but takes gisella’s hand and lets her lead them down the twisting staircase. anyplace is better than the tower.

“i’m to be married in a week’s time to prince wolfgang.” maleen feels a sharp pain go through her chest. had wolfgang forgotten her? their farce of a romance was such a quick, shallow thing. she was a fool to fall for it in the first place. “i’m not going to show up. you are.”

she stares, “what?”

“wolfgang started a war over father locking you in the tower,” she explains, “but eventually it got to a point where neither could justify it, so our father and wolfgang’s decided our union would mean peace between our countries, as intended. but i don’t want to marry prince wolfgang, and he does not want to marry me.”

“i don’t understand,” she hadn’t paid much attention to the girl when they were in the palace together, and she’s regretting that now.

they finally reach the end of the tower. it’s the first time she’s breathed fresh air in years. she tries not to get distracted by it, and instead focuses on the carriage to her left, and the pure black mare laden like a pack mule on her right. “i’m leaving,” gisella says, “i don’t want to be wolfgang’s bride because i want to be klaus’s,” the guard smiles, and he must be klaus, the princess is rejecting a prince to run away with a commoner. “there’s a map and everything you need in the saddlebags. the wedding dress is waiting for you at the castle. no one will know you’re not me until wolfgang unveils you, and by then it will be too late. he will marry you, and i will be gone.”

“why are you doing this?” she asks.

gisella shrugs, “you’re my sister, and father is an idiot. i want you to be happy, and i want wolfgang to be happy, and i want to be happy too. this way we all get what we want. our brother will be waiting for you in wolfgang’s castle. he’ll help you.”

maleen is speechless. gisella grabs her in a quick hug – the only one they’ve ever shared – and then goes to the carriage with klaus trailing behind her. “i’ll see you again, princess maleen!”

she doesn’t have time for tears. she gets on the mare, and rides for the palace of the neighboring land.

~

she makes it just in time. she sneaks into the castle the night before the wedding, ducking around servants until she find her way to jan’s door. she knocks, tentative, wondering if this was a mistake and all one elaborate trap. but the door opens and his face slackens in relief, “finally!” he pulls her inside, and sits her down. there’s lukewarm water waiting for her so she can clean herself, and jan stands with his back to her the whole time, outlining the wedding and how it will go so she knows what to expect the next day. “father isn’t here,” he assures her, “he didn’t want to leave the kingdom, so i’m here in his stead.”

“won’t you miss your sister?” maleen finishes washing and wraps herself in a soft blanket.

“when i am king, gisella will return,” he says confidently, “she will come home and bring klaus, and you will rule here with wolfgang, and all will be well. our countries shall be great allies when it is me and wolfgang on the throne.”

he’s only a year older than gisella, just seventeen, and maleen feels oddly old next to them, feels old next to these children who know what they want and take it and don’t let anything stand in their way.

“we need to get your hair rebraided,” he says, “you should look perfect tomorrow. it’s your wedding day.”

she stares, aghast. “that will take all night!”

“i’ve brought help,” he says, and sends a servant down the hall. the servant returns with a half dozen of the maids who raised her, and who crowd forward and hug her and kiss her cheeks and say how much they’ve missed her. princess or not, bride or not, to them she will always be their little maid maleen.

~

it’s clear gisella picked her wedding dress with maleen in mind. it fits her for one thing, and is clinging and heavy, and it must have looked awful on gisella, but on her it’s perfect. her dress is accompanied by white silk gloves and a thick veil so that no one can see her, so that no one will know she’s not the daughter of the king they’re expecting to be there.

wolfgang is at the end of the aisle, looking like he’s going to an execution, and it takes more self control than maleen was anticipating not to go running to him. she turns to him, and he lifts her veil. he sees her and freezes, mouth sliding open. she winks at him, because they just need to keep it together until they’re married, he just has to keep his cool for a few minutes and they’ll have won it all. wolfgang closes his mouth and says nothing about how this is clearly not the bride he was supposed to marry. they turn so none of the guests can see them, and the priest gives maleen a confused look, but with a glare from wolfgang he continues on with the ceremony as if nothing is out of place.

“you may now kiss the bride,” the priest says, after what seems like an eternity.

wolfgang grabs her about the waist, dips her, and kisses her soundly on the mouth. her veil falls off and she can hear the horrified and shocked gasps of the guests, and under that jan’s laughter. when they break apart, foreheads still pressed together, she whispers, “hello, prince wolfgang.”

he kisses her again, quick and sweet, and does nothing at all to disguise the joy in his face. “hello, princess maleen.”

and they all lived happily ever after.


read more retold fairytales here

Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 8/12

 Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Panic Attack scene mixed with vomit

A/N: I quote from my favourite poetry book Salt in this part, s/o to whoever sees the ref!

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 (Soon)

Eddie walked into his home, his heart hammering in his chest and washing his blood around his system at a high rate; after checking stuff off his bucket list such as skipping school, smoking a cigarette, kissing someone and stand up in the back of a car/truck of some sort with the wind in his face (bonus points that it was to Hey Jude) he was feeling starstruck after such an eventful day.

It was all because of Richie.

Eddie felt breathless, but in the best way possible. For once, he wasn’t reaching for his inhaler despite him losing it. For once, Eddie had rebelled for once in his life and didn’t regret a minute of it.

Keep reading

The Hulk’s Daughter

Originally posted by hamilll

Peter Parker x Reader

The Hulk’s Daughter

Warnings: None?

Author: Morgan

Prompt: What about you being like a new avenger (and working in the lab wit father figure Bruce) and you “meet” the others for the first time at the party

Note: I took some creative liberties here…hope you don’t mind. I’ve been in a super Peter Parker mood lately, so, here ya go. Also, I’m not dead, and I think this will serve as the first of like seven-ish fics in what I call: The Morgan Reniassance.

Being a high school student was tough. Being a high school student and a student intern at the Avengers’ Tower? Tougher yet. And being a superhero on top of it all…you didn’t know how the hell you fit in time for homework, but somehow you managed. Luckily for you, it was spring break now, so you kind of had time to chill and catch up on everything you were falling behind on.

“Hey (Y/N), would you mind passing me the file over there?” Bruce Banner, your kind of sort of father figure asked, motioning across your station to a file detailing the new pieces of tech Tony had whipped up in his free time.

“Yep, no prob.” You slid it down to him. He pushed up his glasses and nodded appreciatively. You took a long sip from your mug of coffee. You hadn’t even liked it that much, but it was kind of a necessity in the lab.

“So…” Bruce smirked a little bit. “Tony’s throwing a party tonight.”

“I don’t know if I can go…you know, I have like three packets of Algebra homework to catch up on.”

“He’s not going to take that as an excuse and you know it.”

“Ughhhh, I know.”

“I think he wants you to finally meet Spiderman.”

“Wait.” This changed everything. “Spiderman is going to be there?”

“Little crush, huh?”

“W-what? Pfft, no.” Yes. “There is no way I have a crush on Spiderman.” Yes you did. “That’s ridiculous.” No. It really wasn’t.

“Don’t worry. He’s a nice kid.” Bruce removed a gear from the little bot in his hand with a pair of tweezers and then replaced it. “And I heard he has a little bit of a crush on Galactic Girl, if my sources are right.”

“OhmyGodreally?!” Your eyes glowed pink for the shortest second and you nearly fell off of your stool. “I mean, cool. That’s cool. I guess. Maybe I could meet him. Or something.”

“Okay, but if he breaks your heart, I’ll break him.”

“Okay Dad,” you smirked. He smiled. Dad. A title he never thought he would hold. And yet, here he was with this teenager who had latched onto him. And he couldn’t have been happier.

***

You walked into the party wearing a pink shirt and galaxy leggings. You had put on more makeup than usual, and you were accompanied by Tony and Bruce, one on each arm.

“And this is Wanda and Pietro and you already know Nat.” Tony introduced. “Ladies and Speedy, meet the newbie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Wanda offered her hand. Pietro smirked, Natasha smiled. You were in awe. You had heard so much about these people, and here they were, dressed in street clothes and making small talk.

“And this is Capsicle and his USO girls.” Tony motioned to Captain America himself, who was standing beside Sam and Bucky.

“Ha. Very funny.” Sam chuckled and shook his head.

“Welcome to the team, (Y/N).” Steve saluted.

“T-thank you.”

“Don’t pass out.” Bruce muttered.

“I’m trying.” You replied through an awestruck smile. And yet, the more people you were introduced to, the more it became obvious that the reason you were here…wasn’t here yet.

“Spider Boy is on his way.” Tony read a message on his phone, and not even thirty seconds later, the red-clad young super hero was clinging to the window. He peered inside for a few seconds before waving awkwardly. Unlike everyone else, he was wearing his uniform.

He climbed into the penthouse, landing on his feet right in front of Tony.

“Sorry I’m late, Mr. Stark. There was a robbery and-”

“Relax, kid. You’re fine.” He motioned to his face. “But uh-”

“Oh. Oh! Right. Sorry.” He tugged off the red mask, releasing a head of tousled brown hair and kind brown eyes. God, he was cute. Waaaaay cuter than you had expected him to be. “You uh, must be the new girl.” He thrust his hand forward. “I’m Peter Man. I mean- Spider Parker. I uh,”

“(Y/N) (L/N).” You shook his hand with a grin. “Nice to meet you, Peter.”

“You break her heart, I’ll break you,” Bruce warned with a well-meaning chuckle as he and Tony removed themselves from the conversation.

“So uh, your dad is the Hulk, huh?”

“My adoptive dad, yeah.” You laughed. “He’s awesome. Took me in after I got involved with all of this alien shit. I really don’t know what I’d do without him.” You looked over to Bruce, who was standing at the bar with Tony. “And you’re Tony’s…nephew-ish thing, right?”

“You could say that, yeah.” Peter smiled and chuckled. “I’m um, going to get changed. I swear I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll hold you to that, bug boy.” You smiled. Peter ran off as Nat walked up to you.

“So, you and Parker, huh?”

“What? I just met him.”

“Remember: I know everything.” She winked.

“Right. Of course. How could I forget?”

“Don’t smart mouth me, young lady.” She gave you a playful shove.

“Yes, ma’am.” You playfully shoved her back as Peter walked back into the room, this time wearing a Bill Nye t-shirt with a flannel and some jeans. Somehow, he was even cuter this way. “Here comes your boyfriend.” She walked away before you could retort.

“Much better.” He grinned. You nodded. There was a patch of silence, and then Tony turned on some very loud, very danceable music. Bruce met your eyes and then tilted his head towards the slowly-assembling makeshift dance floor. Peter seemed to get the hint. “Do uh, do you want to dance?”

“S-sure!” You replied. He held out his hand. You stared at it for a second before slipping yours into it.

***

“So, looks like Parker’s gonna be your son-in-law, huh Brucie?” Nat smirked as she watched you and Peter dance like the dorks you were. It was cute.

“Yeah. He’s a good kid. I’m glad things worked out.”

“Me too. But if he breaks her heart, I’ll break him in half.” Nat smirked.

“You’ll have to get in line.”

Lay it on me- Jughead Jones

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: This is a continuation of “Wipe it off of me”, reader wants to try some stuff out with her boyfriend ;-D

(Read Part 1 )

Warnings: THERES SO MUCH SIN THAT EVEN HOLY WATER CANT SAVE ME. AVERT YOUR EYES, SMALL CHILDREN.

———————————–

The next day after what happened with Jughead, I immediately went to Veronica. She was my best friend, and I trusted her completely with my life, so I also trusted the fact that she would explain to me what the hell I should be doing when it comes to…..things like this.

“Veronica, I just, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about all this kinky stuff, but I know that if there’s somebody I’m comfortable enough with, it’s him, And Jughead, sometimes with the way he is, he, he…” I trailed off, crossing one leg over the other on Veronica’s mattress.

“Turns you on?” Veronica asked, a giggly tone in her voice as she spun around in her vanity chair to look at me.

“Yes.” I admitted, heat spreading across my cheeks quickly.

“Girl, I get what you mean, every time I see Betty in that cheer uniform-” Veronica dramatically draped herself over her chair, fanning herself with her hand. “ my gay ass heart just can’t handle it.” I rolled my eyes before standing up and swatting her in the arm.

“I’m serious, Ronnie! Jughead does.. Things to me! Things I’m not used to feeling! Things I seriously don’t like-” I cut myself off, groaning loudly in sexual frustration, and flopping back down on to Veronica’s bed face up. My arms sprawled out across the duvet and I sighed, turning my head to look at my friend now looking down at me.

“ He’s going to be the death of me, Ronnie. He really is.”

“Cheer up sunshine. Let me show you a few things first.”


———————-


I had left Ronnie’s house with a lot of ideas, and I planned to use them this weekend. The knowledge she had given gave me somewhat a surge of confidence, and I was positive that the rain check I had made with Jughead would be worth it. It was the next weekend when I finally acted upon my ideas.

My mom was going away for the weekend, which meant I would have the house all to myself.The last bell had rang, signaling to the students that they had just been relinquished their freedom and were free to leave the torturous hell that was Riverdale High (ok, maybe it wasn’t that bad, but I’m a drama queen). I saw Jughead standing in front of his locker, rummaging through It while Archie leaned against the locker beside him, hands moving as he told Jughead something. I quickly moved from in between Betty and Veronica, quickly making my way to my boyfriend. I grabbed his shoulder as he stood facing away, pulling him down backwards so my lips brushed against his neck, and whispered.

“My house, tonight. I wanna make good use of that rain-check.” I let go of Jughead, my hand pushing him slightly and his body sprang back in to his previous position, his mouth open. I was halfway down the hall when he turned around, and I just giggled before winking and blowing him a kiss.


———————


Instead of meeting Jughead at Pop’s, I went straight home, checking to make sure my mom had left for her trip. When I saw the empty driveway, I knew I was in the clear. I ran inside and up to my room, dropping my bag and trying to think of my next move. I figured taking a shower was good, so I took a quick one, making sure to shave even though I had done so a couple nights ago. I got out, towel-drying my hair and brushing my teeth before grabbing my nicest pair of bra and underwear. I wasn’t a huge lingerie person, but my mom had bought me a couple nice sets for my birthday, which I was now extremely thankful for.

I threw on a cami and a pair of (extremely short) shorts afterwards, before brushing my hair out and spraying a little perfume. When I was done, I went back down stairs.I occupied myself by getting a little something to drink, and messing around on my phone. I started to almost worry that Jughead wouldn’t show up, and my head started to get the best of me. What if he didn’t want this? What if I freaked him out and potentially ruined our relationship?

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts, and I padded towards it, unlocking the bolt and swinging it open to see Jughead. He had his hands shoved in his pockets, his head raising to look at me. His eyebrows raised as he took in my appearance.

“Is your mom home?” He asked, stepping inside and locking the door behind him.

“No, she’s gone for the weekend. Business trip.”

“Good.” Jughead quickly had me pinned against the door, his hands wrapping around the back of my thighs and lifting me so my lower body was wrapped around his waist. His lips went to mine, kissing me roughly. My hands went around his neck, knocking his hat off when my fingers curled in to this hair. I tugged lightly and Jughead groaned against my lips. I broke apart from him, panting heavily.

“Do you uh, do you want something to eat?” I asked him, mentally face palming myself. Jughead laughed, his head falling in to the crook of my neck.

“Sure, what’s on the menu?” Jughead responded, lifting his head to look at me. I had an idea to fix the mood I just killed, bringing my lip between my teeth.

“Me.” Jughead looked taken aback for a second before a smug look took over his face.

“Hmm, dessert first. I like that idea.” Jughead leaned back down to kiss me, his lips on mine only for a second before trailing down my jaw and to my neck. Jughead began to litter my neck with dark, purple bruises, his body pressing in to mine. Jughead’s hands traveled down my body, his fingers slipping under my shirt. My breath hitched at the feeling of his warm hands on my cold skin, gripping at my waist firmly.

“M-maybe we should- we should go upstairs.” I panted, my breath heavy. Jughead adjusted his grip on my thighs before complying to my suggestion, stumbling a bit to find the stairs.

“You’re going to break your neck.” I giggled, clinging to his shoulders for dear life.

“Don’t undermine my masculinity.” Jughead pouted, climbing up the staircase with me still in his arms. I laughed at the clumsiness of my boyfriend as he actually managed to make it up the stairs, kicking my door open. Jughead dropped me down on to my bed, my back bouncing against the cool mattress. I sat up, reaching out and gripping Jughead’s jacket and tugging it off of him.

“Eager, are we?” Jughead taunted, helping me pull his jacket off. I rolled my eyes, my hands now going to the sweater underneath his jacket. I pulled it over his head to be met with another shirt.

“What is it with the layers?!” I groaned, my hands now working on getting the short sleeved shirt off. “Really, Forsythe, I thought when I invited you over, you would get the memo to wear less clothing.”

“Unless you wanted me to be a popsicle stick by the time I made it here, that wasn’t happening.” Jughead retorted, his hands going to my tank top.“ Although, I’m pretty sure I woulda been warm in a matter of moments anyways.” Jughead leaned down, his teeth biting gently at the skin on my neck, making my breath hitch in my throat. Jughead pulled my tank top off my body, his hands running down my sides and to my hips before gripping them tightly and pulling me closer to his body.

Jughead and I had had sex only a couple of times, the first time obviously being an awkward and romantic mess, and the second time almost being caught by Archie and Betty, who happened to live across the street from me.Jughead and I weren’t huge on sex, it wasn’t something we wanted to do 24/7 like a lot of the kids at our school, but the both of us had so much pent up sexual frustration lately that we were seconds away from creating tears in our remaining clothes.

Jughead grabbed the waistband of my shorts, slipping them down my thighs. I kicked them off before pushing Jughead over and down on to my bed. I unbuttoned the top of his skinny jeans, pulling them down his legs quickly before straddling Jughead, grinding down in to his hips. Jughead groaned, raising his hips to meet mine and I held them down with my hands, grinding my hips down harder on to him.

“Fuck.” Jughead moaned, his breath becoming heavier. I felt him get harder underneath me and I grinned, glad I was getting the reaction I wanted. I sat up, grabbing one of my scarves hanging off my bed frame and toying with it in my hands.

“You wanna try something?” I looked down at my boyfriend, his eyes wide and fixed upon the fabric slipping between my fingers.

“Lay it on me.” Jughead smirked and I grinned, taking his wrists in my hands. Jughead looked confused as I tied his hands to my bedpost, looking up at me.

“To be honest, I thought the roles would be reversed when you asked.” He chuckled, relaxing under my body.

“We’ve got the whole weekend, babe.” I reached behind my back, unclasping my bra and letting it fall off my shoulders. I flung it aside, my hands now traveling down my boyfriend’s body and running over his hard-on, hidden by the fabric of his boxers. I cupped it lightly before moving away.

“Do you really have to be a tea-ease.” Jughead groaned when my hand dipped under the elastic, wrapping my hand around him firmly. I slowly pumped my hand up and down, Jughead’s breathing becoming rapid. I pulled my hand down, my fingers pulling his boxers off and slipping my underwear off after. I leaned over Jughead’s body, grabbing a condom from the drawer of my nightstand.

I took the end of the foil package between my teeth, ripping it open. I was met with the gross taste of lube and a disgusted look swept across my face quickly.

“Why didn’t you just…. Open it with your hands??” Jughead tilted his head, stifling a laugh at my reaction to the flavorless substance.

“Veronica said it’d be sexier.” I scoffed, pulling the condom out of the package.“ Last time I take her advice.”

“Wait, you went to Veronica for advice on sex?” Jughead sat up a bit. I pushed him back down with my hand, looking shocked at my surprise burst of dominance.

“Jughead, I’m literally about to sit on your dick. Please don’t ruin the mood.” I pinched the tip of the condom, rolling it down Jughead’s penis. Jughead laid back down, eyes wide and looking at me. My knees went to either side of Jughead hips, my hand guiding him as I slowly sank down on to him. My hands went to my chest, my lower body feeling a bit tight and uncomfortable. When my thighs reached Jughead’s hips, I stopped, giving myself a moment to adjust before slowly beginning to rise up and sink back down on to him. I tried to keep a steady pace, my legs burning as I grinded down on to Jughead’s dick.

Jughead’s uneven breathing turned in to small groans and my hands went down his chest, my fingernails leaving scratch marks down his stomach. I began to go faster, already feeling worn out. Jughead’s hair was already starting to stick to his forehead, and my chest was glistening with a thin layer of sweat. I painted, picking up the pace even more and going as fast as I could.

Baby, baby untie me.” Jughead panted, wriggling his arms that were suspended over his head. I paused, leaning over and untying the knot of my scarf. When Jughead was free he immediately sat up, his arms wrapping around my body as he thrusted in to me. My head fell in to the crook of his shoulder, my nails dragging down the muscles in his back.

F-fuck, Forsythe, I-I’m-” my body tensed, the fuzzy feeling in my lower body and the twitching of my abdomen telling me I was close. Jughead flipped us over so I was on my back, his arms holding him up as he pounded in to me at a rapid pace.

My orgasm hit me like an oncoming train, my nails now digging deep in to Jughead’s skin and my back arching. My vision was blurry, colors and stars clouding my sight. Jughead came a few moments later, collapsing on top of my body. My arms went around his neck, my hands playing with the ends of his hair as I tried to calm my breathing.

Jughead eventually pulled out of me, his body leaving mine for a moment to discard the used condom before grabbing his sweater. He climbed back on to the bed, his hands pulling my body up in to a sitting position before pulling the sweater over my head.

“You know, I can dress myself. I’m not five.” I teased, pulling my arms through the sleeves of the long sweater. The end of the fabric went to my knees, reminding me of how tiny I was compared to my beanstalk of a boyfriend.

“I know.” Jughead was standing up, his boxers now on and his shirt slipping over his head. I raised my arms up, making grabby hands at him.

“Well if you’re going to treat me like I’m 5, then I demanded to be carried to the kitchen.” I pouted. Jughead turned to me, a grin on his face.

“As you wish.” Jughead’s arms went under my body, listing up like I was a feather. I squealed, clinging to him as he kicked my door open.

“So, why the kitchen?” Jughead asked, now carrying me back down the stairs he had carried me up about an hour ago.

“Well, I made dinner, and then after we ate, I thought we could test how sturdy the island in my kitchen is.” I bit my lip, looking at Jughead.

“I’m honestly convinced that I died and I have gone to heaven.” Jughead shook the fringe out of his face, dipping his head down and pressing his lips to mine.

Bts reacting to you cuddling them bc of the cold.

Request: Bts reacting to you cuddling up to them because you are sensitive to the cold

Namjoon:

You would sit next to him, curling your legs on his lap as he instinctively put his arm around you. 

“You okay baby?

“Yeah just cold”

“Do you want my hat?” he’d take it off before you even answered and put it on your head.

Originally posted by holy-namjoon

Jin:

“Jinnie I’m cold! Come over here,” you commanded while pouting.

“If you ate some warm food, you’d be warm~”

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Well guess who’s eating and warm…” *tries to feed you*

Originally posted by sightae

Hoseok:

“You’re cold you say? Well lets get up and shake it. They say exercising is the best way to warm up!” He’d force you up and wiggle your arms everywhere.

Originally posted by kimthwriter

Yoongi:

You would climb on him as he laid on the couch.

“What? what? what are you doing?!”

“I’m cold and I want snuggles.”

“That’s what blankets are for. Go get some, you’re freezing.”

“-.-”

*Staring competition until he gave in*

Originally posted by keepingupwithbts

Taehyung:

“Tae come cuddle, it’s too cold.”

“You’re cold? I’ll go get you a sweater!”

“Tae!”

“You’re right… and blankets!”

“Taehyung!!”

“Oh yeah!” *Turns around walking towards you, makes a sharp turn into the kitchen* “I’ll heat some water to make tea before I go get the other stuff.”

Originally posted by charrytommoto

Jimin:

Would let you cling on while hiding his smile because he’s a small baby who likes affection even if he doesn’t admit it.

Originally posted by jinchims

Jungkook:

You sat on jungkooks lap not caring what he was doing.

“Hey hey hey! What are you doing?!”

“I’m cold…”

“So that gives you the right to make me lose my game?”

*You shrug*

“You know what… you’ve been a bad girl.” *picks you up and carries you to the bedroom*

Originally posted by hoseokxx

imagine surviving a zombie outbreak with jungkook.

Originally posted by donewithjeon

—obviously inspired by dead days.

  • the day they announced it a pandemic jungkook rushed home from school and waited for his parents to come home; they never did.
  • he’s among the first to realise if he wants help his best bet is to go out there and find it.
  • also he’s hopeless at rationing food, so he has to get moving soon.
  • having observed the undead from his window, jungkook knows he’ll have to kill to survive, and after seeing what they’re capable of he quickly comes to terms with that fact.
  • meaning his neighbour’s beagle somehow got out on day three, so on day four he drops his dad’s bowling ball from the balcony onto the head of the zombie that killed it.
  • and after his first kill spends the day dissociating and dry-heaving.
  • when over a week has passed he packs necessities and what little food he has left and straps on a few pieces of protective gear, left over from sports he’s played over the years, opting for maximum mobility.
  • those necessities include: all the wet wipes, antiperspirant, toothbrush, toothpaste, clean shirts, soap, first aid kit, his mother’s perfume.
  • jeon jungkook, nicest smelling boy in the entire zombie apocalypse.
  • because that’s how he clings to his humanity, to the remnants of civilisation: hygiene.
  • he’ll eat actual garbage but he’s gotta feel clean while doing it.
  • everyone’s got their Thing, and that’s his.
  • anyway after the chaos of that first week a deafening silence settles in the building you live in. so when you hear one of the doors to the stairwell open, you immediately rush to the peephole to see who’s stupid enough to venture into the stairwell.
  • of course it’s jungkook.
  • you go to the same school as jungkook, and while he may not know you, he has quite the reputation himself, as far as beating almost every sporting record he set his mind to goes, except archery.
  • when he passes by you call out to him through the door and the poor boy nearly shits himself. he’s still there though, when you open the door and tell him you know him from school.
  • you let him in and, much to your surprise, he seems to recognise you, he even gets your name right on the second try.
  • you’re in the same situation as him, all alone and beginning to lose hope that help would eventually come, you had even begun preparing to leave.
  • your dad had taken the bike to work that fateful morning one week ago and now you hold up his car-keys for jungkook to see, “can you drive?”
  • “i can try,” jungkook never got the chance to pass his test, but he’s your best bet, just as you’re his.
  • and that’s how you two end up more or less driving off into the sunset together, to survive another day.
  • “wait, was it you who dropped that bowling ball on mr. evans from 81b?”
  • you’re in charge of rations, because jungkook is not to be trusted around the food and he’s not too proud to admit it.
  • he deadass wants to go live in the mountains until all this has passed and you’re like ?? i’m not starving to death jeon forget it.
  • you constantly have to remind him he’s not bear grylls.
  • which isn’t easy because he’s somehow got eagle scout level survivor skills despite only having been camping like once when he was five.
  • and honES TL Y the legs on this boy, good luck keeping up with him it’d be quicker if he carried you everywhere.
  • on that note he carries you on his back whenever you’re tired or injured.
  • and he still finds time to be childish and playful. 
  • there’s a tree in your path? you bet he’s gonna fucking climb it. passing an abandoned playground? before you can blink he’s on the jungle gym like “look at me!!!!!!”
  • will insists he’s “scouting.”
  • and it’s the little things that keep you sane. jungkook wanted to be a singer and when he feels safe has a tendency to hum and sing to himself.
  • insists he needs less sleep than you so he always takes first watch, and when you can’t sleep you coax him into singing for you.
  • just kinda vocalises his way through the lyrics he doesn’t remember, because he has no way of looking them up. and also through the sexual lyrics because welp awkward.
  • eventually you know his entire repertoire and can even make requests.
  • he exercises to stay awake. like, you wake up in the middle of the night because you think you heard a zombie groan but it’s just jungkook doing sit-ups next to you.
  • senses you stirring and starts muttering “hundred and six, hundred and seven, hundred and-” but let’s be real he only did like, eleven.
  • also otherwise doing press-ups whenever he finds a flat, uncluttered surface. where’s jeon ?? probably on the ground around here somewhere like “ah, this is tiring.”
  • and you’re like “how?? why?? you’ve only had a can of tuna to eat in two days, where do you even get the energy??”
  • “gotta stay in shape if i’m gonna keep saving your clumsy ass.”
  • he’s so apprehensive of the other survivors you cross paths with some of them genuinely thought he was mute.
  • until they try to separate the two of you because jungkook is not fucking having that no way do you wanna wrestle or what
  • imagine you get to shower for the first time in a while and jungkook insists you go first because he’ll just use all the water, so you suggest you just shower together and make the best of what little water you have.
  • can’t look you in the eyes for a while after that because he’s seen you naked now and you smell nicer than you have in weeks.
  • imagine huddling for warmth, and cuddling for comfort.
  • or patching him up after another close call.
  • you have to be the responsible one, the decisive one, but in return jungkook will be your rock, your protector, steadfast and strong, never cracking under pressure, not even the weight of the world ending can faze him when he has you to worry about.
  • it doesn’t take long for him to realise that he could never leave you behind. he’ll carry you to the literal end of the world if he has to, doesn’t matter if it kills him; he’s not facing the apocalypse without you.
  • after almost losing you once, he confesses that the way he sees it he has no reason to carry on without you. he lives and survives to protect you.
  • never whines that he’s hungry or tired, because he knows you are too. he might complain that his clothes smell, or that he hasn’t washed in a while, but whenever you ask if he’s alright the answer is always going to be that he’s “okay if you are.”
Newt Imagine: “Make Me”

Request: “Hey, can you do and imagine for nr.1 with reader x Newt, please.”
     “Make me.”

Warning: Very slight smut | TMR | Word Count: 1,859 (Hope you like this, this was a pretty quick but fun write so I really hope you enjoy it too!)

The Glade felt like it was on fire. You shifted uncomfortably in your tank top, fanning yourself every few minutes in between your work. The sun was glaring angrily down today, bringing the Gladers into a slow, lazy lull by noon.

“Y/N!” You heard a hoarse voice call you from a distance. You already knew it was Newt, your closest and oldest friend in the Glade, so you didn’t bother to turn around. You were feeling much too tired.

“Y/N!” He called again, this time with a twinge of annoyance at your lack of response. You sighed heavily before turning and squinting unresponsively in his direction. He rolled his eyes, walking towards you steadily, before stopping right in front of you. “Y/N, what are you doing? It’s past noon, Fry needs the meat to start cooking. You’ve been workin’ on that shuckin’ animal for hours now.” He furrowed his brows in seriousness, though his ruffled sandy blond hair and soft brown eyes made it hard to take him seriously.

You sighed and looked at him carefully. “I’m on it, I’m on it… It’s just so shucking hot, Newt. I can barely focus.”

Newt eyed the sweat beading on the side of your face and the hair clinging to your forehead stubbornly. “Alright, love, finish what you’re working on and then go take a shower. That ought to cool you down.”

You huffed and began slicing up the last bits of meat, hurrying to get them to Frypan.

————————————–

As soon as you stepped into the cold shower, you shuddered with relief, half shaking from the freezing sensation, and half relieved to finally feel clean again. You didn’t worry about being the only girl in the Glade, because you had, more than once, proved yourself capable of taking care of anyone who dared try anything with you. Sure it had landed you in the Slammer once or twice, but that was a small price to pay for being able to take a shower in peace. No one had ever bothered you when you were in there except…

“Y/N,” that same voice called out. You groaned. You had never been so annoyed to hear Newt in your entire time in the Glade.

“What now?” You yell angrily over your shower. “Can’t I just have one moment of peace today, Newt, at least in the shower?”

Newt paused to stand in front of the showers on the other side of the barrier, not facing your direction. “Fry said he asked you to slaughter two animals, but he’s short on meat for the bonfire tonight. Any idea why?”

You grumbled and turned off the shower, accepting you weren’t going to ever be able to properly finish it anytime soon. You grabbed the towel to your side and wrapped it around you before padding your way out to face Newt, glaring angrily. Newt awkwardly looked in your direction, trying not to glance below at your body, even though you two were usually comfortable with each other, being best friends.

“No, Newt, I have no idea why –” You stopped short as it hit you. You remembered that in your anticipation to take a shower you had forgotten the second chicken… “Shuck.” You muttered only, biting your lip.

Newt raised an eyebrow. “Something the matter, Y/N?”

You roughly pushed past him, colliding shoulders with his. “Nothing’s the matter, Newt,” you snapped. “Go away.”

“Y/N,” Newt warned slowly, lowering his voice slightly, though it became raspier than ever because he was so parched. The heat was clearly getting to him, too. “Y/N, come back here.”

You continued walking.

“Y/N, don’t you dare walk away from me!” Newt shouted at you, though you were already halfway to the Homesteads now.

You shrugged simply and waved sassily back. “Watch me, Newt!” You called back out to him.

As quick as a whip, Newt ran up to you, grabbing your arm and swinging you around to face him. “Y/N, I am your second in command, you will do as I say,” he ordered you roughly.

You made a face and pulled yourself out of his grasp. “Make me,” you challenged, sticking your tongue out at him, and before Newt could even react, you turned and started running in the opposite direction. You clung to your towel desperately, regretting not putting on clothes immediately. You swore to yourself, but refused to look back to see if Newt was gaining ground on you; he undoubtedly was: even with his limp, you were encumbered by the towel, forced to run slower. As his unmistakable footsteps began grow louder behind you, you flung yourself into your hut and shut the door, though you knew that couldn’t keep him out for long.

Newt pounded on the door in a split second. “Y/N! Don’t make me barge in there. I will drag you out of there myself if that’s what it takes to get you to finish your work.”

You smiled to yourself, suddenly overcome with a desire to embarrass Newt. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you called out warningly in a sing-song voice. “My towel fell off, and I’m trying to get dressed…”

Newt immediately withdrew from the door, but was resilient. “I’m not falling for that, Y/N! I’m coming in there in one minute, and you better be dressed.”

You pouted, creeping closer to the door to taunt Newt. “But that’s not nearly enough time, Newt,” you whined. “But you already know that, don’t you?” You smiled wickedly.

Though you couldn’t see Newt flush, you could hear him falter. “Y/N, d-don’t be ridiculous - I know what you’re trying to do. I don’t care. If you’re not dressed, it’s your own shuckin’ fault.”

You shrugged, slipping out of the towel and leisurely started putting on your clothes. “Alright, but don’t be surprised if you see me n –”

The door to the hut burst open, but you were wearing only your underwear and a large t-shirt, that was barely reaching a couple inches into your thighs. You smiled victoriously, pleased to see Newt’s red face, clearly more embarrassed now than in the showers. It didn’t help Newt and you had always felt attracted to each other, even started falling for each other as you grew closer in friendship, but neither of you acted upon it because Alby forbid it. Now, seeing Newt’s eyes reluctantly trailing over your half-exposed body, it made you want to forget there were any rules in place. 

Newt clenched his jaw and crossed his arms. “Go ahead,” he said in a hardened tone, trying to mask his obvious reaction at seeing you half-naked. “Get dressed.”

You raised an eyebrow incredulously. “Seriously?”

Newt gazed at you stonily, and only gestured for you to proceed getting dressed. You scoffed. You threw your jeans at him and flopped down onto your bed, sticking your tongue out again at him. You had pushed your luck too far. Newt closed the distance between the two of you in a flash, and climbed over you on your bed, pinning you down against the sheets. He glared at you with darkened eyes. “Do you think that I’m joking, Y/N?”

You panted slightly underneath him, unable to help but think this was the first time Newt had ever gotten on your bed. You had been on his plenty of times, but he had never been on yours. This was different. “Not anymore,” you replied breathlessly, afraid of what he would do next.

Newt nodded. “Good that. Now be a good girl and do as I say,” he growled at you roughly.

You smiled mischievously up at him, fully aware that he was still hovering over you, his face just inches from yours. If you just leaned up… “And what if I don’t?” you asked teasingly.

“I’ll punish you,” Newt said tonelessly.

You lifted yourself up slightly, meeting Newt’s cheek with yours, your lips brushing against the side of his face as you moved to whisper playfully in his ear. “I’d like to see you try,” you threatened, your lips pressed against his skin hotly.

Newt jerked back surprisedly, before his eyes filled with a new look of… lust. The wild, crazed desire finally unleashed within him, Newt grabbed you by the shoulder roughly and pushed you down against the bed, smashing his lips against yours. He kept you pinned down as he delved deeper into the kiss, your lips opening and parting to meet his. He pressed his tongue against your mouth, pulling away before giving you two hot kisses with tongue, each time exploring deeper and deeper. You gasped in order to catch your breath, taken aback by the suddenness and rushed manner of Newt’s kisses. He didn’t even give you a chance to catch your breath before lowering himself down on you again, pressing his lips to yours with a deep hunger you didn’t know he had in him.

You flicked his tongue with your own, moaning at his every touch. The blonde, instantly turned on by the sounds your moans, cupped your cheek, pulling you even closer to him, and you trailed your fingers up to tangle them within his disheveled hair. You smiled at his eagerness, and as your mouth twisted in victory you pulled away teasingly. Newt tried to lean down to kiss you but you merely turned your face slyly, laughing. Newt groaned in frustration and looked at you inquisitively, panting heavily. You watched him as his eyes followed you as you scooted back to the top of the bed. “It’s so easy to get you, Newt,” you giggled.

Newt raised his eyebrows in arrogant surprise. “Oh yeah? Sure about that, love?” He slowly crept forward and suddenly lunged to tackle you against the soft sheets, and though you laughed and tried to wriggle your way out of his grasp, Newt’s strong arms forced you against his hard chest.

You gasped for breath in between pouts and cried, “That’s no fair, Newt!” Newt smirked and flipped you over, releasing you playfully against the bed, running his hands up the side of your body until he reached your arms, which he moved up by your head and pinned your hands under his. He laced his long, rough fingers through yours and raked his teeth down the side of your neck, causing you to drop your head back against the sheets. You arched your back, surrendering yourself, as he lowered his wet kisses down your neck.

He paused, watching your eyelashes flutter and small, gasping breaths escape your lips. Seeing you crumble under his touch made him smirk, swelling his heart with pride that only he got to see you this way. “All’s fair in love and war, Y/N,” Newt whispered in your ear and pecked it with a small kiss after.

You smile and take his cheek into your hands, turning it to face his sweet caramel eyes towards you. “Well, if this is what a little war with you brings, I’m not complaining,” you winked and pulled Newt down to kiss him again.

Naughty Girl - Justin Foley Smut

Justin Foley x reader

Request:  Can you do smut with Justin Foley (13 reasons why) …(x reader) maybe..you didn’t fuck for a week because you have problems and he catches you masturbate and he is not happy about it so he punish you…

WARNINGS: Smut, rough, swearing


Me and Justin haven’t been talking for days. He practically pushed me off of him the other day and I’m pissed. For some reason we have been arguing more than usual. Just two days ago we argued cause Justin forgot to pick me up to go to school cause he decided to drink with his friends. It’s been leaving me frustrated. In many ways. Its Saturday night and Justin keeps calling my phone and leaving message after message.

Babe I’m sorry about the other day

Baby please pick up…

I’m sorrrrrrrry!

What do you want me to do?

I can bring strawberry ice cream for you 

Babbbbbby please answer me 

I roll my eyes and put my phone on silent. I’m more angry with him cause with all this arguing we haven’t had sex in over a week and it’s killing me. I have been wanting to slap him and fuck him at the same time and I think he knows it. There is a knock at the door and I say a small ‘come in’.

“Hey sweetheart” my mom peaks in. She’s all dolled and dressed up. I do that signature dog whistle and laugh. 

“Hey mom, where are you going looking all nice” I smile. 

“Me and your father are going out for dinner surprisingly”. I look behind her and see my dad with his thumbs up. I laugh and shake my head. I follow them downstairs as they put their jackets on.

“Okay have fun you too” I say, walking up to hug and kiss both of them.

“We will, come lock the doors behind us. And you know the rules n-”

“Yes, yes, no partying, no drinking, no smoking, no inviting strangers, no going out after 12 and call you if I invite Justin over.” I say nonchalantly.

“Good girl” she kisses my check while my dad rubs my head.

“See you kiddo, be safe.”

“I will, love you”

They both say quick ‘love yous’ and get into their car. I watch them drive off and quickly close the door and jog up the stairs back to my room. I look at my phone and see more text from a now angry Justin. I huff and turn my phone off. I lay on my bed and start thinking about where we went wrong. Just last week we were making love. Making love. I start thinking about how good it felt for him to be inside me with his hands roaming my body. I start thinking about his lips on my neck. Thinking about this started to make me feel hot down there. I continue thinking about his mouth on me and found myself creeping towards my underwear. I never thought I would do this, being that I had Justin, but obviously I don’t have him right now and I need something. I peel my underwear off and start rubbing around my heat. I keep thinking About Justin and imagine my fingers as his.

“Justin” I moan. My fingers speed up and I arch my back into myself. I grab onto my bare breast under my shirt and pinch onto my nipple feeling nothing but pleasure. I keep moaning, sliding a finger into my now wet core. I’m lost in my own world as I slide in another finger. I want Justin more, but this will have to do. I continue pumping in and out while moaning my boyfriends name. I need him so bad. I’m so wrapped up in my moans that I didn’t notice my door fly open. I jerk up and see none other than Justin. A very angry Justin. He looks mad, but his eyes look like something else. Lust.

“What the hell do you think your doing y/n” 

“I-I don’t know” I say, covering my naked body with my sheets. He walks up to the bed and yanks the sheet away from me, scamming my body up and down.

“What the hell were you doing”

“It was nothing, I just wanted to try something dif-”

“You wanted to fucking finger yourself!” he says while still looking at my body. I feel weirdly exposed in front of him, but I kind of like it. 

“We haven’t had sex in a while and I have been aggravated” I say quietly, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stared. 

It was the way he stood and looked at me. Watching my every move and staring at me with those deep eyes. And I loved it. I loved the attention he was giving me. The long needed attention. It made me feel wanted and special. It was his attitude. The way he stood leaned against my headboard with his arms crossed on his chest and lip in his mouth. 

I look away feeling queasy in my stomach. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, but a feeling of excitement. I uncover my hands from my chest and fix my posture, sitting up. I bit my lip and look back at him. His eyes leaves my face and goes straight to my chest, smirking. That was all it took for him to make his way to my bed and sit down next to me.

“You like being a naughty girl don’t you?” he whispers. His voice suddenly got deeper and husky, making my lower body ache. Definitely a turn on, making me want him even more. 

“Do you like it?” I ask, biting my lip seductively as I smiled. 

“No not really” I almost frown at his response until he speaks again.

“Only I can touch you like that, and I don’t like you doing my job.” I close my eyes, trying to contain myself from jumping onto him right now. I want him badly. So badly right now. 

“Then touch me” I whisper into his ear.

“If I do, I might not be able to control myself cause I’m still angry at you for doing this” I bite my lip as I climb onto his lap and bite his ear softly before whispering.

“Then don’t”

As soon as I said it, Justin attack my lips, wrapping my legs around his torso pressing his body against mine. I moaned against his lips as I kissed him hard while his hand went in my hair and his lips moved hungrily with mine.

“Mhm.” He groaned as he pulled away slightly. Grabbing his waist, I attempt to pull down his sweats. He sits up and pulls them off. I starting bucking my bare core against him, earning grunts. I drew circles with my hips as his hands stayed firmly on my waist. I started to feel him harden under me and I smiled through the kiss. 

“Fuck this” he mumbled through the kiss. He quickly threw us over and yanked me to the edge of the bed.

“This is my job and don’t forget it”. With that he spread my legs apart with his hands on either sides of my inner thigh, spreading them as wide as he would while looking my core. He rubbed his hand back and forth and I moaned slightly while wiggling to try to feel him more. He held my body in place.

“Don’t fucking move” I bite my lip and nodded him.

“Yes baby”

I smiled at the sight of my boyfriend going down on me, his head between my thighs as he pleasured me. He rubbed his fingers again me, going up and down fast. Faster than I was. He made sure to press hard against me. I moaned and moaned even louder when he slide his long finger into me.

“God.” I moan, smiling at the sweet pleasure. I open my eyes to see him watching me as he adds another finger and curl them inside me.

“Yessss Just- my gosh!” I moan.

“What was that” he smirks. He adds a third finger and starts roughly pumping.

“JUST-” I couldn’t even speak cause of all my moans. He pulls his fingers out and kneels down further into my core. I then feel his lips touch my heat, making me grind my hips against his face for more. He starts going slow to tease me then speeds up. I wrap my legs around his neck, arching my body as he flicks his tongue harder against me. He movements started to make me whimper.

“Ha-right there, yes, fuck!” I whimper as he looks up at me while still moving his tongue. I throw my head back, not caring how loud I’m being. My small hands were in his hair, pushing on the back of his head I tensed, my eyes shutting as I moan his name again. I feel myself close, knowing I can’t hold it in.

“J-Justin, I’m ab-”

“Let it go baby.” I do as I’m told and cum while Justin licks everything up, smiling at me after. All of this just made me want Justin more than ever. 

“Justin?” I pant.

“Yes angel” he smirks.

“Fuck me.”

He throws of his underwear before grabbing a condom out his jean pocket and doesn’t give me a chance to register anything. Still at the edge of the bed, Justin grabs my hips and slams into me, making me whimper. my knees were dangling off the bed, spread apart as Justin thrust into me. I was eager for him to go harder, faster, rougher. I need all of him.

“P-please Justin harder” I moan. He doesn’t need for me to say it twice. Justin pushes himself deep into me, but doesn’t move. He just stood there, deep inside of me. the pleasure was so amazing. 

“Fuck!” I yell, my body shaking and desperate to grab something as I cling myself onto his back.

“Ju-justin” I moan, my breathing heavy. He pushes my hips back down, held them down there before he slammed into me as hard as he could, making my bed move backwards. I let out a loud whimper, my hand grabbing his.

“God! Fuck me, Justin, Harder baby!” I beg, moaning louder than ever. He held my tiny hands so tightly in his, almost crushing my fingers as he went faster, deep groans escaping his throat.

“Holy fuck!” he growled. His voice sounding so deep. He only went harder as I scratched lines into his back. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t. My whole body was shaking beneath him. 

“Fuck!” he screamed. I could hear his dick slam into me with each thrust, slamming into me as deep as it could. My back slammed into my bed each time. Tears were starting to come out my eyes as I was screaming his name. I exploded and it surprised me. Justin pulled out and looked exhausted. He slowly climbed onto the bed, pulling me onto him and could barely catch his breath. He only said one thing. 

“Baby?” he pants.

“Yes?” I ask in the same state.

“I love you, but please remember to lock the door next time”. With that we laughed and then fell right to sleep in each others arms, finally back to normal.


A/N - Sorry if this isn’t that good. I hope you guys like this one! I appreciate you guys feedback :) love you 

Y/N‘s teased Harry all night, and he wants her to pay for it (she secretly wants it too, really badly).

i.

Y/N felt like a proper, scandalous tease tonight.

The sweetest smile was rested on her lips as she talked to their friends, she wasn’t paying half a mind to the conversation if she’s honest, she was too giddy and distracted. Under the dining table, her fingertips were brushing back and forth on Harry’s crotch, lightly tracing the outline of his cock through his floral print trousers. He hadn’t payed much mind to it at first, other than a flinch of his eyebrows in surprise, and a questioning look pointed her way. As the evening led on, however, the light traces and dances of her fingertips against his thigh had quickly escalated to something much more. Her palm was planted right on top of him, squeezing and palming his noticeably enlarged length now.

His efforts to warn her through panicked glances when she got him almost right on the edge— nearly too far to be able to gulp down his moans with his water but not quite on the brink for him to come in his pants— went past her with just a simple shrug and a smug perk of her lips.

Keep reading

Rough Around the Edges

upperstories submitted: 

Climbing up six flights of stairs was a pain.

Climbing up six flights of stairs after driving what felt like thousands of miles without stopping for anything but gas and coffee wasn’t much better.

But climbing up six flights of stairs with a bad knee, three exhausted bundles of living ink clinging to you like a lifeline, and going on nothing—no real food or water or even a bathroom break—but sheer grit? Downright impossible.

Henry Ross cleared it in half his usual time.

He didn’t care how late it was, how much he ached or how much he wanted to just curl up next to the chipped floor molding and become comatose, he was not in the mood for any of his neighbors catching him as he was. He just thanks god his doorman, a short ruddy-faced man named Patrick, had fallen asleep at his desk before he’d snuck in, like old Patty always did after 11:00 PM.

“644, 645—646,” said Henry, stopping to catch his breath.  “Here. This is it.”

He could feel Boris, Alice, and Bendy collectively sigh in relief, wilting like lilies in the hot summer sun.

Boris was fairing what seemed like the best of them; hand on Henry’s shoulder for balance, but with enough of his druthers to stand upright without help. Alice clung to Henry’s left pant leg, leaning heavily, her black eyes barely open, and not at all complaining when Henry used his free arm to help keep her steady. Bendy, for all his intents and purposes, hadn’t left Henry’s grasp since the studio, tucked against his left side with his face half buried in the old animator’s collar. Henry was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep at least 3 times on the way—he had one hell of a loud snore for a shorty. He hadn’t asked to be put down once, but Henry did not complain. It had been a long day for all of them, but Bendy had had it the roughest—which was saying something, as Henry had learnt that hard way that being turned into a living cartoon was no picnic.

“What’s the plan, Henry?” said Boris, catching Henry off guard.

“Plan is, uh,” Henry mumbled, fumbling with keeping Bendy and Alice from toppling over while he fished for his keys. They weren’t in either of his pockets… where were they?

“Get inside, go to bed. Try to sleep and…” He sighed, “I don’t know, come up with a better plan in the morning.”

“Works fer me,” Bendy muttered, not even opening his eyes.

It was then Henry noticed a small shimmer along the door’s upper frame. Bracing Alice as best he could, he reached up and ran a hand along the top of the door molding and caught something metal on the far corner. Of course. Right where he left it.

“Henr—ry?” said Boris, muffling a yawn behind the back of his hand. “That, uh, don’t seem particularly safe there, leaving yer key where someone can find it. What if someone tries breakin’ in?”

“Not to worry Boris,” said Henry, smirking to himself sardonically, “I doubt anyone would find anything of mine worth stealing…”

The lock gave a rusty clunk, and Henry shouldered it open.

The sound of a rickety radiator and the smell of old newsprint, a faint burnt wood-like scent, and cardboard greeted them along with the faint sting of old alcohol. The light of the hallway cast a thin orange glow into the otherwise pitch-black apartment. Henry couldn’t remember feeling so relieved to see color, faded and muted as it was.  He ushered everyone in and quickly shut the door behind them before trying a light switch. It flickered twice before dimly glowing weakly, barely any better than the hallway light. With a small fzzt!, it went right back out.

“Great,” Henry grumbled. It took a bit of blind stumbling, but he managed to reach a tall lamp next to the couch and switched that on instead. The bedroom was cast a pale light, giving everything a pale bluish tint. “Gonna need to replace that.”

Alice and Boris blinked in the sudden light, Bendy preferring to just keep his face buried under Henry’s chin.

“Well, uh,” Henry said, eyebrows creasing as it seemed something very apparent dawned on him. He tried his best to smile, but only managed a wince and he half-heartedly motioned to the living room. “Here we are. Home sweet home.”

The light made it easier to take stock of just how messy the man’s apartment really was. A quintessential bachelor pad, with bare walls, sealed and opened boxes alike strewn everywhere, bookshelves decorated with everything from empty whiskey and beer bottles to unfinished model ships—and pretty much everything except for books. Dirty laundry littered the floor, waste bins sat overturned in the corner. The kitchen looked almost unused, save for the stacks of pots and pans stuck to the grimy stone tops, and piles of unread junk mail and bills sat on the kitchen counter, unsorted. The couch looked about as comfortable as a sack of potatoes, the green fabric a shade greyer than when it was first bought.  One of its legs was held up by an old phone book.

A thick, sturdy easel and stool sat out of place in the corner, next to a far window, unmistakable in spite of a tarp covered it. Stacks upon stacks of blank newspaper leaned against the corner behind it, book-ended by empty sketchbooks that looked hardly handled. A stray sheet of sketch paper poked out from under the tarp, the off-white paper marred with frustrated, uninspired scribbles of charcoal.

Henry was suddenly acutely aware of Alice and Boris’s stares. He coughed.

“Sorry about the mess,” said Henry, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down, “I don’t, uh, get guests all that often.”

“S’alright Henry,” said Boris, voice no longer tired. His ears had pulled back, eyes downcast as well. “We don’t mind it.”

“S’not like we got anywhere else to be,” Bendy mumbled, peaking up. “Even if it is a pig’s sty.”

“Bendy,” said Alice, sharply.

“Any port in a storm, huh?” Henry shrugged, smirking ruefully. “Alright, alright, everybody to bed. We can worry about this mess in the morning.”

He didn’t need to tell the Toons twice. Henry herded them into the next room, which was surprisingly less musty than the den. There were still more piles of boxes strewn about, sure, but the desk next to his bed was only slightly disheveled, and bed looked well made. Almost as if Henry never really slept in it… or used his bedroom at all.

He led Boris to one end and helped him strip the covers to climb in. Afterwards, he lifted Alice up onto the mattress. Up next was Bendy.

“Alright, short stuff, time to get down,” said Henry, leaning down for Bendy to easily fall onto the mattress. Which he did not. “C’mon, I need my arm back at some point.”

“Can’t here yah, I’m asleep,” said Bendy, pretending to snore, clinging all the tighter.

It took a couple of attempts, but he finally managed to pry Bendy free from his side, his arm practically all pins and needles from the tight hold the little demon had on him. In spite of the little devil’s petulance, Henry gently set him down next to Alice and gave his arm a slow pinwheel stretch. He ignored Bendy’s pointed, pouting glare, clearly not liking being rudely stripped from his warm perch. The fact that a draft ran along Henry’s apartment didn’t improve things much either.

“It’s cold,” said Bendy.

“I know. Sorry,” said Henry. He shouldn’t feel this guilty. “It’s all we got for now.”

The apartment was small, the circumstances messy, the bed a single, and tomorrow looked big and uncertain… but it was all Henry had on such short notice. He only got color back a day ago; he could worry about living conditions later.  

Tomorrow. He could worry about it tomorrow.

He motioned to tuck them in and—stopped himself when Bendy gave him a look.

Why had he moved to do that?

He rubbed his neck and stifled a yawn with his knuckles.

“I’ll be in the den if you need me,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling very foolish.

“You’re not staying here?” Alice asked. Boris looked surprised as well, but Bendy ignored all of them and crawled under the sheets, pointedly looking away from Henry. Something about that stung, just a little.

“Not enough room for all of us on there, Angel,” said Henry. The stinging didn’t go away. He’d gotten them all out, hadn’t he? He brushed it off. “But, uh, I’ll leave the door open. You can bug me for anything.”

Alice nodded, but she looked like she wanted to say something else. Henry waited… and she just followed Bendy, tucking herself between the demon and the wolf without another word. Boris gave Henry a little wave, but didn’t say much more before his head fell back on the pillows. Within seconds, he was snoring up a storm along with Bendy, Alice silently snoozing between them.

“Thing’s’ll be better in the morning,” he said, half heartedly. He wasn’t sure if he was talking more to them or himself. “Promise.”

The Toons said nothing.

Henry trudged to the couch, every inch of him feeling almost as heavy and war-beaten as when he returned to the States from the Front. As he turned off the lamplight, he only hoped sleep would come to him as easily as it had the Toons.

In spite of a million thoughts churned in his mind, clicking like giant cogs. The studio, Bendy, Boris, Alice, Sammy, Joey, their escape, the look on Bendy’s face and the strange ache it left in his gut. Or maybe he was just tired from all the running and the fear and the coffee. Henry pushed it all down, too tired to think, and fell face first onto the lumpy, familiar couch. His arm was left dangling over the side.

Sleep fell over him like a thick, lead curtain. Like a flood of inky black.

***

Henry awoke from a nightmare, and for a moment he thought he was still dreaming it.

He couldn’t remember much, except there had been whites and grays and something about sheep—or was it the 3 little pigs and the big bad wolf?— and a big, empty black void collapsing on top of him.  A faint whine broke through the void, someone’s whine—was it his? When his eyes snapped open, all he saw was black, and his heart wouldn’t stop pounding.

He was back. He was there. Back in the studio. Escaping had just been a wonderful, hopeful dream and he was still there he was going to die there and the Toons Were In Trouble—!

But when Henry bolted upright, he felt the familiar lump fabric of his couch, heard the familiar sound of taxi’s speeding by his building in the horrible early hours following midnight. He even welcomed the musty smell of newsprint and old beer. He wasn’t in the studio. He was safe.

And the Toons—

Henry leapt to his feet and bolted for his room in two easy strides. The door was open. And in the bed.

They were there. Safe and sound. Their silhouettes were easily recognizable, even in the faint moonlight and the faraway streetlamp light

Boris was leaning halfway out of the bed, tongue poking out and lolling to the side as he snored, his feet jutting out comically from under the covers over the end board. The blanket looks uncomfortable small on him. Alice was breathing deeply, her face twitching occasionally from deep REM, but otherwise looking peacefully saint-like. Her halo was crooked and looked dangerously close to falling on her face, disturbing her sleep. Bendy was silent, facing away from Alice and…

He softly whined.

Henry was at his side in a second. Had he woken Bendy up with his frantic flailing in the next room?

No, Bendy was still fast asleep, his face scrunched up tight, hands balling up the blanket and comforter in bunches, hogging it and pulling it away from Boris. A droplet of ink dribbled from his temple, staining the large pillow they shared.

Bendy was having a nightmare.

Without thinking, Henry reached for his pocket and pulled out a grey-stained handkerchief. Praying he didn’t startle the Toon awake, he gingerly mopped the loose ink from Bendy’s forehead. Bendy flinched away, curling tighter into himself. The little devil suddenly seemed very small.

Henry quietly shushed him and continued mopping up his clammy forehead, swiping it in long, gentle strokes. Slowly but surely, Bendy’s hands began to unclench, his brow starting to dry. His face refused to give an inch, his whines only becoming more anguished.

“….mmm…jo….ey?” Bendy breathed.

Henry’s chest seized. He lost his voice, but only for a moment.

“Nah… no, half pint,” said Henry, all the gruff and bite leaving it as he spoke softly to the little devil. “S’just me.”

A pause. Bendy shifted, shut eyes seeming to relax a fraction. “….old m’n?” he muttered.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s old grouchy me,” said Henry, wanting to laugh. “Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

“…stay’ere th’s time… kay?” said Bendy. His face finally relaxed.

Henry stopped mopping.

All at once, Henry faintly remembered something very striking. Something very specific. When he was a young lad, he’d become sick with pneumonia, and despite all his aching and griping and being a pain, his mother had dropped everything— work, her book club, volunteering at the library— to sit at his bedside for almost a whole three-day weekend. It had almost made up for being sick while school was out. And while he was sick, she read him stories. Treasure Island and Huck Finn. He never remembered thanking her for it, but he did remember drawing James Hawkins fighting Captain Long John Silver. She’d tacked up his drawing on the fridge with a green magnet and never took it down. She smiled for weeks on end after getting that gift.

He thought about that memory— that old smile she had where the edges of her eyes crinkled at the edges, and her teeth shown and she wheezed out a quiet laugh.

Seeing Bendy go back to slumbering peacefully, he could only wonder… Had this been how she felt while he was growing up?

A tightness settled in Henry’s chest and a whole different ache fell over on him. It wasn’t an entirely new realization, one he’d been grappling with ever since Boris had shakily asked Henry if he really meant they’d all escape with the animator. Ever since he’d found Bendy blindly running from his own solemn doppleganger. Ever since He’d told Bendy that he was his own story’s protagonist.

He was responsible for these three now.

Now, that wasn’t to say that Henry was irresponsible. He was a hard working, a dependable man of routine, and could even come handy in a pinch. 

But this was different. This was new. This was terrifying.

He was an old, bitter man. No living family left to speak of. Well on his way over the hill. Never had a thought in his mind about marriage or kids of his own, often only keeping his focus on staying alive, both during and after the war. Hell, he never even thought he’d set foot near an animation desk again before heading off to see Gabriel’s pearly gates (if he was that lucky). And yet, here he was, with three cartoons dropped in his lap. Who probably wouldn’t be able to handle living in the real world yet. Who probably shouldn’t be sharing a tiny bed in the middle of a run down apartment on the ass-end of a filthy city.

What could an angry old man with a tiny apartment and hardly anything to his name do for them?

“mmm… h’nry?” Bendy whined. Henry snapped out of his quiet, rising panic, stifling a yelp.

“S-still here,” he managed, feeling his voice crack.

“good…” Bendy relaxed against the pillow, completely at ease. Completely trusting.

The tightness in Henry’s chest finally unfurled, and his eyes felt a slight sting. He covered his mouth to muffle a deep, shaky sigh. Bendy had complete and utter trust in him. Was that a good thing? Did Henry deserve it? In spite of all that had happened these past few days, he suddenly didn’t feel so sure.

But… this was his chance right? He was supposed to figure things out now, wasn’t he? He felt so unprepared, like he’d been thrown out in No Man’s Land all over again.

But then again… this wasn’t like the war. Or the studio. Things were on his turf. If anyone should’ve felt like fish out of water, it was the Toons. He was the one with the knowledge of how the real world worked, how colors looked and how real sunlight felt on your skin.

He had to be there for them. He was going to be there for them. 

They were all he had now. 

Feeling more tired than ever, Henry stood from his seat as quietly as he could. He quickly grabbed Alice’s halo, just before it could teeter another centimeter and drop onto her nose, and after giving it a quick polish with his handkerchief, he set it on top of the bedside lamp, perfectly centered. He set to work on the blankets, adjusting it to be spread out evenly between the three of them— he left Boris’s feet sticking out, finding the silly sleeping position suited the wolf— and tucked them all in. It wasn’t the best, rough around the edges, and the blanket was lopsided. But Bendy re-curled around, snoring softly and facing Alice. Her head lolled, and she in turn nestled comfortably atop Bendy’s horns. Boris snuffled and licked his snout before settling more deeply against the pillow. They all seemed to just… fit together. Like puzzle pieces.

Henry felt that unfurling feeling return, and he quickly wiped his face.

Despite being exhausted, he hardly felt like returning to the lump couch. He returned to Bendy’s side of the bed, and took a seat. He knew his neck and back were going to kill him tomorrow, but he could worry about that later. He had more important matters to worry about.

Like making sure the other three got the best-damned night’s sleep they ever got. He wasn’t about to let their first night in the real world be a sorry one.

Tomorrow was going to be the roughest day of his life, and yet, somehow, he couldn’t find it in him to mind it.

I AM ACTUALLY SITTING HERE WIPING TEARS FROM MY EYES, GIRL

THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.  I LOVE THIS.  I LOVE THIS SO, SO MUCH; YOU HAVE A LOVELY WRITING STYLE HOLY SMOKES.

reioka  asked:

Sorry you're having a bad day. For you: Maria gave Tony a Bucky Bear when he was a child and when Howard sneered at it she got up in his grill about his attitude toward their TODDLER having a STUFFED ANIMAL so Howard doesn't say another word about it. Tony still has it. It's well worn and soft. An eye and arm have had to be sewn back onto it from all the love its gotten. Steve finds it and Tony sees him holding it and karate chops him to get Bucky Bear back safely. 1/?

Of course Steve’s like wtf Tony you could have just asked for it back is your hand okay? YES it is because he’s holding Bucky Bear with it. Steve is like “all of my whats” but he lets it go and asks about the bear. It doesn’t look like all the other Bucky Bears from back then. And Tony is so proud, his mother stood in line at a toy store for a SPECIAL EDITION Bucky Bear. Only a hundred of them were made. They’re worth thousands in pristine condition. 2/?

Tony’s bear isn’t pristine but he doesn’t care. It’s special to him because his mom waiting in line to get to him. It’s priceless. “Do you still sleep with it?” Steve asks curiously. Tony scoffs at him and says “Absolutely you dolt. Bucky Bear has always been there for me.” Steve melts because that’s so sweet, and he mentions it to Bucky, and Bucky’s like “??? okay buddy I don’t give a fuck about his bear???” And of course Steve snorts and says “He likes the bear better than you.” 3/?

Bucky is v offended by this and creeps into Tony’s room and THERE. THERE IT IS. THE BUCKY BEAR. And Tony is there sleeping too but THE BEAR. He eases it from Tony’s arms and glares at it jealously but then he realizes he is in Tony’s room? Tony’s sleeping? So he sets the Bucky Bear aside and climbs in bed with Tony. Tony wakes up to Bucky instead of his Bucky bear and he says, “I’ve had dreams like this. Where you turned human to protect me.” And Bucky’s just like FUCK MY HEART. 4/?

And so he wraps around Tony and cuddles him and apologizes for taking so long. Tony sighs and tucks his face into Bucky’s chest. (And then he wakes up fully with a squawk and punches Bucky in the stomach with his flailing because WTF ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED YOU CREEP. It’s too late, Bucky knows Tony wanted to be protected by him as a child, so he rolls on top of him and says “I was the bear and now I’m not” but Tony sputters because HE CAN SEE THE BEAR BUCKY WTF. But he likes cuddles so. 5/5


This is so precious I’m squealing!!! Just imagining Maria going at Howard in a Rage over the Bucky Bear is brightening my day. (Especially when I think about how, even a decade later, Howard will not dare to say a word against the bear in question. His mouth twitches once, suspiciously, during dinner when Tony is fourteen and carries the bear with him out of pure spite, but Maria notices and her eyes narrow dangerously. And Howard isn’t always a wise man, but he’s not suicidal, so he gripes about his latest business deal instead.) 

It’s this intriguing combination adorable and funny and slightly creepy (you don’t just climb into other people’s beds while they’re sleeping, Bucky, what even?!) and I love it. I can just imagine Bucky’s indignant face when Steve Dares To Insinuate that Tony prefers some toy to him lol. Thank you so much for cheering me up!!!

Of course now I can’t stop thinking about a tiny Tony clinging to his precious Bucky Bear, the one toy Howard would never dare to take from him, crying silently into it’s fur, begging it to please protect him and tell his father that he isn’t stupid and–

Yeah okay, I stop before I ruin it with angst haha. Lets focus instead on how, after all the well-deserved Tony-cuddling that morning ends, Bucky drags Tony down to the gym because that punch will not do if someone other than Bucky tries to sneak into his bedroom, not at all. Tony is less than impressed.

In the background, Clint loudly complains because “Bucky pulls an Edward Cullen and then actually gets into Tony’s bed and cuddles him while he’s asleep and it’s freaky cute but when I listen in on your margarita nights from the vents it’s creepy, what the hell???”

Natasha doesn’t look up from where she’s sorting her smarties by their colours. “Nobody disturbs margarita nights, Clint.”

“BUT”

Nobody

(Clint is slightly appeased when only one Bucky Bear is allowed to join the next margarita night, and it’s not the fleshy one)

sjhphotography  asked:

Hi, I absolutely love your gods and monsters series and I especially love the way you've treated Hera in it (always thought she got a bad rep for no good reason). I know you're super busy, but would you ever consider doing one about when she finally leaves Zeus?

(recommended reading for context: X, X, X)


Olympus has fallen.

It’s marble columns lay cracked and broken. The sun doesn’t pass over it anymore. Hestia’s fire pit has been empty and cold for decades, with nothing left on the mountain to fuel it.

Olympus has fallen, yet Hera and Zeus are still there.

~

Ares has tried talking to his mother. He long ago gave up any hope of trying to save his father, but Hera isn’t touched by madness like Zeus is. All that keeps her there are her oaths of marriage and loyalty, all that chains her to the crumbling remains of what they once were is her marriage to Zeus, who will only be convinced to leave Olympus on a funeral pyre.

Ares begs. He cries. He does anything and everything he can to convince his mother to leave, but she only touches his face with cold hands and presses her cracked lips to his cheek. She won’t leave her husband.

She won’t be moved by him. So he has to find someone she will be moved by.

He’s down in the underworld, where he spends so much of his time now. Persephone is often there as well, but she only smiles at him, is never angered by his presence in her realm or her husband’s bed.

(“You worry too much,” Icarus tells him, early on when they are both young and fumbling and in love with the same man. “She is not a jealous woman. Hades loves us all – he simply loved her first.”)

But it is neither Hades nor Persephone who he seeks today. He goes to the edge of the underworld, ever expanding and changing, because it is where she likes to be best. “Hecate!” he calls out, “I request an audience.”

There’s a shiver in the air, and the goddess of magic stands in front of him. He doesn’t know what to think of her, the woman who’s so close to his lover and who raised his brother. He’s never been able to find a title that fits her quite right.

“Ares,” she greets, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Staying by Zeus’s side is killing my mother,” he says. “I’ve tried to get her to leave, but she won’t listen to me.”

Her lips quirk up at the corners. “Listening has never been her strength. What do you expect me to do about it? I’ve tried to get her to leave Zeus before. I failed before, and I will fail again.”

“I know. I don’t want you to talk to Hera. I want you to talk to Hephaestus,” he says

Hecate’s eyebrows rise. He’s managed to surprise her. “If he won’t listen to you, why would he listen to me?”

“I haven’t tried asking him,” he says. “He doesn’t believe anything I say of our mother. He’ll believe you.”

“And what makes you think I have anything positive to say of her? She’s a petty snake – she’s lied and manipulated and outright killed to get what she has.”

“Yes,” Ares says. “And what does she have?”

Hecate smiles at him.

~

Hephaestus is startled to discover Hecate in his kitchen. She rarely leaves the underworld. “Aunt,” he says. It’s what he’s called her his whole life. She’d always refused the title of mother. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” she says, and he snaps to attention. “Hera rots away on Olympus for loyalty to a man who has never showed her the same devotion.”

“How is that my problem?” he snaps, stung. Hecate has never brought Hera up to him before. He can’t think of why she would do so now.

She grabs one of the apples from his fruit bowl and bites into it. She looks at him thoughtfully as she chews. He crosses his arms and glares. She swallows and asks, “Have you really not figured it out yet? I raised you to be smarter than this.”

“Speak plainly.” It’s something he said often in his adolescence. Styx used to just try and drown Hecate when she became cryptic.

“Hera is your mother. She bore you and her blood runs strong in your veins.” He’s about to snap at her again when she says, “But you are not a son of Zeus’s blood, and he has never been able to forgive you for being a child of his wife but not of him.”

His legs are mostly metal, but he still loses feeling in them and has to grab for the edge of the counter. “What?”

Hecate’s eyes go distant. “She was so desperate for a child when she had you. So young, all things considered.”

He sits down across from her, “Tell me everything.”

~

Hephaestus is reeling even as he climbs the crumbling, ashy remains of the once great Mount Olympus.

Hera has always seemed unbreakable to him. As cold and perfect as marble, a mother in name only who tossed him to his death when he was only a few hours old.

It was all a lie.

She went against her very nature as a goddess to conceive him, something she’s never done before or since. She carried him and bore him alone, and fought against Zeus to save him when blood was still slick between her thighs.

She gave him over to Hecate to protect him. He grew up in the underworld not because he was something forgotten and useless, but because he was cherished. He was raised in the underworld to keep him safe, not to keep him away.

She gave him his name, gave him his life, and has loved him silently all these years.

He could have grown up on Olympus, could have grown up with her. She would have cared for him as fiercely as she cared for Ares. He could have grown up with Ares, could have known his brother when he was small and straining towards freedom, wouldn’t have met him for the first time as a brash adolescent sneaking into his volcano.

If it weren’t for Zeus throwing him from this very mountain when he was only a few minutes old, he could have grown up with a real family.

He loves Hecate. He loves Hades. Styx was his best friend growing up.

But it’s not the same. And it’s not fair.

~

Hera is beautiful, even as she’s dying.

Her hair is piled on top of her head in intricate curls, and her dress is silk. But she’s so thin it looks as if even sitting on her throne tires her. She’s too pale and her skin is bruised, her eyes sunken.

Zeus lays slumbering in his throne beside her. He swings from mania to exhaustion with nothing in between.

“Hephaestus,” she says. Even as the rest of her body deteriorates her eyes are as bright and sharp as ever. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He falls to his knees in front of her, and her eyes widen. “Staying here and clinging to a power that doesn’t belong to us anymore is killing you. It’s time to leave.”

“I am the goddess of marriage and family. As long as my husband remains here, so shall I,” she informs him, head tilted arrogantly so she can stare down at him.

“We aren’t the gods of anything anymore,” he says, “not really.”

She looks away from him and her lips twitch like she’s not trying not to smile. “No. I suppose not. But I am still a wife, and with my husband I will stay.”

“The goddess of marriage and family,” he repeats, “What of Ares? Of Hebe?”

“Hades looks after Ares. Hebe is fully grown, and has been for many centuries.” Something he can’t explain passes over her face. “Someday, all children must say goodbye to their mother for the last time. None of us are exempt from that, not even gods.”

He places his hands on her lap, palm up. She blinks, looking rapidly between his hands and his face. He can’t remember if he’s ever touched her before. “Hera of the Heights, of Argos, of the Mound. Hera the cow eyed, white armed goddess of marriage and of family. Hera, queen of the gods.” He flexes his hands, and she slowly places her cold hands in his. “Mom. You once saved me from death by Zeus’s hand. Let me do the same for you now.”

She becomes impossibly paler and tries to yank her hands away, but he doesn’t let her. “What are you – I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let go of me!”

“Hecate told me. She told me everything.” He kisses her knuckles. “Leave this mountain. Leave Zeus. Come with me.”

She looks to her slumbering husband, a mere shadow of the man he used to me. “I love him.”

“You hate him too,” he says. “Denounce your status as a goddess and come with me. Mom, please.”

“It was always such a thin line between the two with us, between love and hate,” she says, still looking at him. “He’s mine. I chose him, and I made him choose me. I did this, to the both of us. I should stay.”

Hephaestus presses her hand to his cheek, and her gaze finally skitters back to him. “I’m yours too. Ares is yours. Hebe is yours. Don’t die for you husband. Live for you children.”

“You’ve never cared about me before,” she says. “You shouldn’t bother. Just because I didn’t throw you down this mountain doesn’t mean I’ve ever been a mother to you.”

“Maybe this is our chance then,” he says, “maybe this is our last chance to be something more than strangers. Come with me, and be something other than Zeus’s bride and queen.”

~

She’s too sickly to walk. Hephaestus carries her down what remains of Moiunt Olympus in his arms. When they’re halfway down the skies open and ligntning crashes down around them. The claps of thunder aren’t loud enough to drown out Zeus’s anguished screams.

Hera hides her face in her son’s shoulder and weeps.

Hephaestus’s metal legs don’t hesitate or miss a step the whole way down the mountain.

~

Olympus has fallen.

Only Zeus remains.


gods and monsters series, part xx

read more of the gods and monsters series here

Taken By Force (Taeyong!)

anon(s) said:Hey guys! I was wondering about a Dom!Taeyong smut where he’s really rough and forces you to blow him? Of course including consent but still, can it be really hot and stuff? :D sincerely, whose life is now complete 😌 thanks for your hard work guys❤

Can i request Taeyong smut when he finds out his gf search history was “Taeyong SMUT fanfic” “Taeyong 18+ fanfic” etc Lolololol Thank-you and have a great day

could you do a rough!taeyong super steamy smut? please make it as hot as you can sorry im just too thirsty for this guy lmao

author: admin hyo

word count:1863

a/n: What have I done~ this took me forever, but it’s here. The only real warning is that there is some consensual non-con. So if you’re not into that don’t read. But please enjoy.

Keep reading

New Beginnings

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Written for @sanjariti‘s Game of Prompts. Based on the song Good Times by All Time Low

Word Count:1,602

Warnings: Language, Angst, Underage Drinking 

A/N: Caro, I’m so so sorry it took me so long to write this. Congrats on your milestone! You’re awesome!

Sitting under the lights of the basketball court, you nursed a bottle of beer that you had been sharing with three other people. Sam sat on the orange ball, sweat dripping down his forehead. Steve’s cheeks were red from running, his blond hair sticking to his forehead. And while Bucky was wearing his basketball shorts, he had spent the entire evening with you.

“I gave Rogers a proper thrashing,” Sam announced proudly.

Steve rolled his eyes. “You wish.”

Normally you would have been laughing and cheering, but not tonight. It was your last night with your three best friends and you were feeling pretty nostalgic.

Keep reading

game on

this is inspired by Jim’s in the closet with Joe video and I am not sorry at all. To understand all the clothes I mention go check out the video!

Word Count:  2250

Rating: R (Smut)

I hope you guys enjoy!

It was nice to have a boyfriend who had a fashion sense, because it meant your closet doubled in size. You rummaged through the closet you both shared, trying to pick your outfit for the day.

“Can’t find anything to wear?” Joe grinned, sliding past you to grab a hat from the top shelf. He was already dressed and ready for the day. “I vote you just stay in that.” He looked you up and down, eyes narrowed. You blushed a bit, but you loved it. After buying two bra and panty set options for valentine’s day, you weren’t about to let one of them go to waste, and it was so comfy you really would be content to wear it all day.

“Maybe I will,” you grinned. He groaned in exasperation, grabbing your hip and pulling you closer to him. He pressed a hard kiss to your lips, one you knew too well. One that meant something a bit more than usual.

“Don’t do this to me baby, you know I’ve got meetings all day,” his head dropped to your shoulder, his hands tracing your skin.

“The sooner you leave the sooner you’ll get back,” you whispered, walking him backwards out of the closet, pressing kisses to his lips along the way. 

“Or I could just cancel for the day. There are some things I would much rather do right now,” he murmured, holding you closely.

“Nope. Go on,” you teased him, pressing one last kiss to his now swollen lips before pushing him back. He stumbled slightly, rolling his eyes before they settled to look at you again.

“When I get home then? Please?” He pouted at you. You didn’t want him to leave, hell, you wanted nothing more than to throw him onto the bed right that moment and get on with it. But you also knew how fun the day would be if you drug it out. One of his favorite things was when you had missed him all day; it made you both desperate to get your hands on each other.

“Depends on if you can make it through all your meetings. If you make it through the day, then yes.” A smile played on your lips, and his eyes narrowed again, suspicious.

“What’re you up to?”

“Nothing. Now go on, you’re going to be late.” You danced over and pressed another kiss to his lips before he turned to leave. He looked back at you once more before he left, but you only put on your best innocent smile and gave him a wave.


You waited just long enough to be sure that his meeting had started, occupying yourself with making breakfast and coffee. You headed back into the closet, plan in mind. His meeting were usually loose, so you knew he’d be looking at his phone occasionally.

Keep reading

~Swimming with the Pheromones~ (M)

Your hybrids smell something odd and things get a little heated to say the least. 

Rated M for Mature: Smut with a hint of cursing

cathybrid!yoongi/doghybrid!taehyung/reader

Word Count: 11,421

Explain the point of…blah blah blah.

Yeah, no, not today.

We’re not doing this right now.  Why did teachers think it was a good idea to give extra homework on the long weekends?  Yes, everyone earned an additional two days off, but of course the professor who taught your most hated course of the semester would throw in a few more questions.

This was the small bit of work you had left and there were only five questions remaining.  You wanted to get it done, right here in this library, before you went home to enjoy your long needed vacation.  You stretch your limbs high into the air, shoulder joints cracking at the movement.

Okay.  You can do this.  The sooner you finish, the sooner you can go home and cuddle with the boys without any worry.  With the little voice cheering you on inside your head, you pick up your pencil and begin writing, determination reenergizing you.

                                   ~*~

Humming to yourself as you suck on the delicious strawberry lollipop the library was giving out, you giddily skip to your doorstep, ecstatic that you were able to complete all of your assignments.  Unlocking the door to your apartment, you hear the suspenseful music before anything else.

Creeping in quietly as you gently shut the door, you are met with two figures huddling under a blanket on the couch as they cling to one another for dear life.  They haven’t seen you yet and a quick glance at the TV depicts a gruesome-filled scene which explains the eerie music.  It seems like your hybrids have stumbled across their first horror movie.  One that will more than likely lead to nightmares if the invisible ghost that dragged a girl across the floor had any say.

“Hello there.”  You call out, hoping that they will recognize your voice and that it won’t scare them to pieces.

It doesn’t work.  In fact, it has the opposite effect.

Keep reading

{Alice in Wonderland!AU x Monsta X}

i decided to write something fun for them,,,,,so take this wonderland au (it also got the most votes in my poll!!)~~~~ps: it probably makes no sense 

Shownu : Caterpillar 

  • lays shirtless in a huge canopy made of woven flowers and is usually not the type to answer if someone comes looking for him
  • like minhyuk will stop by and hang off a branch and try to pester shownu who just waves him off with one hand 
  • on his back are large tattooed wings in beautiful bright colors but he rarely lets people close enough to see them
  • talks sort of slowly so it’s hard to keep a long conversation with him without feeling sleepy or hypnotized
  • you’re trying to find a specific kind of potion that’ll help you grow taller and hatter kihyun told you the person to ask is shownu and so when you find him ,,,,,,,,,,, you call out
  • but there’s no response
  • so you decide to climb your way up into the canopy and to shownu’s surprise you manage your way in and slowly he begins to ask you who are you
  • but you just dig around in your pocket and go “hatter said you’d have this potion?” and you hold up the paper in front of shownu’s face
  • but he simply tilts his head and asks again, who you are
  • and you start telling him but something begins to shake the canopy and for a moment you think you see the tail of cheshire minhyuk
  • but then you’re like no,,,,it must be the wind??? what’s happening???
  • and the canopy swings back and forth and you look to shownu,,,,,,,only to see he’s as confused as you
  • until you lose your balance and all forward,,,,right into shownu’s chest
  • and you’re like soRRy,,,,,but you can’t help it your face is against his bare skin and
  • shownu,,,,,,,whose reflex was quick enough to catch you,,,,,,,is taking very very vERY slowly to let you go and you’re like blushing because uM AnYWAY thE PotION
  • and shownu takes a moment but tells you that you’ll need to get the potion from the red queens garden and you’re like ???? whose and shownu mumbles something 
  • and lays back down,,, turning onto his side and you see the wings on his back and you’re like,,,,,,,,well you need to leave but you’re also like,,,,staring at him because,,,,,,wow,,,,but also,,,,,seriously does he just sleep all day 

Jooheon : White Rabbit 

  • jooheon in big round glasses, a white button down, and suspenders,,,,,,,,,a pocket watch he keeps fretting over around his neck???
  • bunny ears that twitch whenever someone mentions the time and he realizes he’s late
  • keeps trying to escape the clutches of minhyuk who likes to tease him and purposely take up his time with silly riddles 
  • always runs past you when you want to ask him something 
  • and at some point you get annoyed because you reALLY need to know why he was in your backyard checking his watch because if he hadn’t been you wouldn’t have fallen down this damn hole
  • and so you finally catch him when you spot him sitting under a tree in the queens garden and you’re like jOOHEON
  • and he jumps up,,,,completely red in the face,,,on suspender falling off his shoulder and he’s like 
  • I-I-I- HAVE to bE GOING !!! iM LATE to SEE HyunGWON-
  • and you’re like no no no and you end up having to chase him through the queens garden,,,which is more like a maze than anything,,,,and when you finally both end up at a dead end
  • you panting with your hands on your knees and jooheon nervously fidgeting his ears you go whY do you keep running from me???
  • and he’s like “i can’t be seen with you!! if changk- i mean the red queen sees he’ll have my head!”
  • and you’re like why???? and jooheon just keeps looking around like he’s scared a guard will come through the bushes
  • so you stretch your hands out to put on his cheeks and you’re like “hey,,,look at me! calm down ok?”
  • and he locks eyes with you,,,,and you smile softly and that somehow seems to get him settled but also you can feel his cheeks getting hotter under your touch and you’re like ??? are you ok
  • and he’s like fIne,,,,and you’re like “ok i have a question then what were you doing in my backyard?”
  • and jooheon twitches his nose ,,,you know the way rabbits do,,, and he’s like “im not sure,,,,but yo-you made me late!!!”
  • and you’re shocked because huh??? you made him late???
  • and jooheon pulls up the loose suspender and is like “i,,,,,got caught up staring at you,,,,,,anD i couldn’t make it to tea,,,”
  • and you’re like wait staring at me? and he’s like you,,,,you’re quite- i hadn’t ever seen someone so - – p–r–pret-
  • but he doesn’t finish the sentence because his watch goes off and he makes a sound of surprise and dashes off out of the maze again and you’re like DAMMIT
  • but what?????? was he going to say??????

Kihyun : Mad Hatter

  • keeps throwing parties every three or so hours because he forgets about the party from before
  • wears the bright, big top hot with a mismatched colored suit and if you look directly into his eyes you can see that one is brown and the other is ,,,, green 
  • breaks out into song whenever he can (to the unfortunate luck of hyungwon) and can drink tea upside down 
  • is overall confusing,,,,loud,,,,and a little sensitive when you ask him what day it is,,,,but other than that he’s really fun and flirty
  • which you know because whenever you pass by his place he’s always rushing out the door to get you to join him and the others,,,,,,that being literally hyungwon asleep at the table and wonho watching kihyun gleefully 
  • and you’re always like “kihyun,,,,you still didn’t clean the dishes from the last party????” and he’s like what last party????
  • but even so as you’re watching him pour tea into three different cups and sing about the weather
  • you can’t help but,,,,be happy around him,,,,,even if he’s a little weird
  • but what you don’t expect is for him to pull you up out of your chair and onto the table
  • and you’ve never??? stood up on a table before??? and you’re clinging to kihyun’s lapels because oh no if you take another step you might step on one of the plates and you want to return to your seat
  • but kihyun seizes the chance and spins you around and cups and plates and sugar cubes go flying everywhere
  • but kihyun swoops you up before you can kick the teapot over
  • and it’s almost like,,,,there’s magic,,,,,in the way kihyun dances with you on this table
  • and you look up ,,,,,to see him grinning ,,,,, two different colored eyes sparkling 
  • and you’re like “kihyun- hatter- i can’t danc-”
  • and he just says noNSENSE and keeps spinning you around
  • and hyungwon and wonho watch from their seats,,,,wonho clapping and hyungwon yawning
  • as kihyun waltz you up and down the table,,,,dipping you at one point so you’re almost at risk of being dropped off the table,,,but then he pulls you back up
  • and again you’re looking into that smiling,,,,,,,,ever so mischievous smirk and you want to say something but you’d rather just let kihyun lead you in this whimsical dance 
  • because what’s a party without any dancing right~

Minhyuk : Cheshire Cat

  • purple striped ears and tail that match the purple collar around his neck
  • he’s super acrobatic and likes laying on branches and hanging off random things 
  • keeps showing up above your head and disappearing in the blink of an eye???? the last thing you see are his sharp, white teeth
  • but if you scratch behind his ears he basically melts which is pretty cute
  • makes lots of jokes that kind of don’t make sense but you laugh anyway because he looks kinda cute making a fool out of himself,,,,,,,,,,and you don’t really know but he does it for the sake of your entertainment hehe
  • and a lot of the time  you find yourself only seeing him when you’re alone 
  • like you’ll walk through the dark forest and you’ll suddenly hear a familiar laugh
  • and minhyuk will lean his chin on your shoulder out of nowhere
  • or wrap his tail around your wrist
  • and it always surprises you,,,,,but he’s alway nice to see because when he’s there,,,,,you don’t feel so lonely in this new place
  • and one evening,,,,as you’re dining with the queen you almost spit out your drink because you see minhyuk show up behind him, picking up the crown off his head and twirling it around
  • and you’re trying not to laugh but ,,,,,even when minhyuk hops up onto the table in front of the queen??? like he still can’t see him????
  • and you excuse yourself for a moment,,,,,,,minhyuk disappearing from the table and reappearing beside you when you get back into the hall and you’re like 
  • “????why can’t the queen see you???” and minhyuk shrugs and says something about his ‘oddness’ not matching up to the queen’s ‘madness’ and you roll your eyes because whY does everyone speak in riddles here
  • but you also lean up a bit to fix the collar around minhyuk’s neck because it seems like it’s lopsided 
  • and minhyuk,,,,for the first time,,,,,,his teasing smile wavers and he puts his hand over yours and is like,,,,what are you doing
  • and you’re like because of your shenanigans back there your collar got turned!!! im fixing it
  • and minhyuk,,,,,,,,he,,,,,,,keeps his hand over yours
  • and you don’t really notice it but it’s actually been a long time since minhyuk has been able to touch someone physically
  • most of the time he plays pranks and disappears but you’re here ,,,, in front of him,,,,,,,,,,,,warm,,,,,,
  • and before he can control himself he nuzzles his nose against the side of your hair and you freeze up
  • and ,,,,,,, it’s gentle,,,,you’re not scared but?? 
  • the door opens suddenly and the queen comes barrelling in asking whAT is taking you so long and you’re like “i was with the cat- oh he’s gone?”

Hyungwon : Dormouse 

  • his suit always has tea stains on it and his hat is practically falling off his head 
  • hatter kihyun always puts hyungwon’s hands in teacups so when he wakes up he always scratches at his nose and he ends up with a wet hand in his face
  • which kihyun thinks is HILARIOUS and hyungwon just murmurs about how he really should find somewhere else to take his naps
  • his mouse ears are hidden in his messy hair but if he puts his head down on the table you can see them peeking out
  • you end up trying to clean up after another unbirthday party for the hatter and march hare,,,,,those two had escaped back into the forest saying something about a trial at the queens court
  • so you and hyungwon are left alone and as you’re stacking dinner plates and saucers 
  • you notice his hand is,,,,literally in a cup of cold tea
  • and you mutter that kihyun is at it again so you go over and take his hand out and you use the edge of the tablecloth to dry off his long fingers
  • when suddenly you hear a sleepy voice ask you what is going on
  • and you tell hyungwon that you’re just trying to make sure kihyun’s prank doesn’t work again
  • and he seems to nod, but puts up his other hand to rub his eye and you grab it like WAIT i didn’t dry that one yet
  • and you sit there,,,,,looking up to see hyungwon slouching over you and you’re like “wait,,,,how tall are you?”
  • and he gets up on shakey legs and you’re like WOAH and hyungwon is like “not,,,,that tall i fit into a teapot if i tr-”
  • and you’re like in what teapot do those legs even manage to get into it???
  • and you notice when he shakes his head a bit his ears and the tail that sways behind him and you’re like “are you a-,,,,,,,,,,,,,mouse?”
  • and he shrugs and says that he doesn’t care what he is, but he knows he’s sleepy and you’re like ok but don’t sleep at the table hatter kihyun will comeback to prank you again
  • and hyungwon suddenly offers you his hand and is like
  • “i know a good nap,,,,,,spot,,,,,the flowers near shownu’s canopy are ,,,,,,, extra soft,,,,,,,want to go nap there - together?” 

Wonho : March Hare 

  • absolutely adores everything hatter kihyun does 
  • unlike jooheon’s ears which are always at attention and alert,,,wonho’s lay against the side of his head and are kinda floppy when he gets up to dance
  • wears a different color bow tie every day and he claims it’s because you need a different bowtie for every unbirthday party
  • you’ve seen him speaking with the flowers and trees before and you thought he was just mad,,,,,until the flowers spoke to you too
  • he once told you his favorite tea is super rare because it comes from the red petals from the queen’s garden which commoners can’t have
  • you meet him when he’s actually not at the table with hatter kihyun and dormouse hyungwon
  • and he’s explaining to you that someone told him he could find the queen’s red roses on the path toward the white rabbit’s house
  • and so you’re walking together and you notice how much more reserved he is when kihyun isn’t around and you want to ask something
  • when suddenly something falls into your hands and???? it’s a red rose
  • and you look up and cheshire minhyuk is lounging on a branch and is like “why hare,,,,,,,you haven’t said more then three words to our traveler,,,,,,,,cat got your tongue?”
  • and wonho wants to say something but minhyuk drops down from the branch and picks up the rose in your hand and puts it behind your ear and is like “i know why ,,,,,,,,,,the hare is all embarrassed~” 
  • and wonho reaches out to try and take a hold of minhyuk but the other vanishes while laughing only to reappear back on the branch this time hanging upside down off it
  • and he’s like “the march hare has a crush~ a crush on you~ and it’s his birthday not his unbirthday ~~~ don’t you think he deserves a gift~~~”
  • and with a wink sent your way minhyuk is gone and you’re standing there looking at wonho like it’s—-it’s your birthday???? 
  • and blushing,,,,using his ears to cover the bottom half of his face wonho nods and you’re like aw,,,,well it’s your birthday you should have this
  • and you take the rose from behind your ear and give it to wonho,,,,who seems to still be a little embarrassed and you’re like “oh! and take this-”
  • as you reach up to kiss his cheek
  • which leaves his ears standing up straight for the first time heheh

Changkyun: Red Queen

  • doesn’t like being called the red king because in games the king never does anything but get protected,,,,,the queen on the other hand is powerful
  • so if anyone calls him ‘king’ , ‘prince’, etc. well,,,,,,off with their heads
  • wears a red cape,,,,red crown,,,,red nail polish,,,,,,,,and most people say that the red that underlines his eyes is actually the blood of those he beheads,,,,,,
  • BUT those are all rumors so what do we know (they are,,,most of the time no one actually gets hurt because jooheon spends hours writing pardons for every little thing changkyun gets mad over)
  • likes to play croquet and likes it when you tell him he’s right,,,
  • the moment you stumble upon him,,,changkyun takes a liking to you because you compliment how he looks in his cape
  • and before you know it you find yourself at his side for his croquet game,,,even calming him down after he sentences minhyuk to be captured for making a fool out of him again
  • which is something no one in wonderland has ever been able to do,,,,like changkyun’s temper cannot be calmed, but all you had to do was touch his hand and smile
  • and it seemed like all the anger just fizzled out and changkyun just smiled back
  • and people keep saying that sooner or later you’ll be the queen’s chosen one,,,,,,,and you’re like he doesn’t like me like THAT MUCH
  • but say that to the fact that during a royal feast instead of having you sit in the chair beside his changkyun had straight up just pulled you into his lap
  • feeding you the reddest of cherries and draping his favorite cape of your shoulders
  • and hatter kihyun had come over for the ball and jokingly asked for a dance to which changkyun told him if he ever wanted to drink tea again he better bet it or else that mouth of his would be-
  • changkyun spent the rest of the night telling you all about how he was planning on painting every white flower in the garden red
  • and when you’d asked him if maybe you should change your clothing from blue to red changkyun had immediately ordered you a new,,,completely red,,,,,wardrobe 
  • changkyun: “off with their-”
  • you: “here eat this red apple and kiss me instead ok?” 
The Bookstore

Square Filled- Destiel

Rating- Mature

Tags- almost-smut, bookstore au, alpha!Dean, omega!Cas

Word Count- 1500ish

A/N: For @spnabobingo​. Hope you enjoy! XOXO


Dean walks by the bookstore every single day on his way to work and looks for the stranger who works there. The town is small, and Dean thought he knew everyone who lived here, until this place opened up. For five months now, Dean has walked by this bookstore. And for five months, he has wondered about the dark haired man inside. The one he’s never seen around town before.

Sometimes the man is on the computer at the large counter, sometimes helping a customer, sometimes straightening and restocking the shelves. No matter what he’s doing, he’s always gorgeous. His hair is long enough to be messy when he runs his hands through it, and Dean loves the days when it’s sticking everywhere, like maybe the store was too busy or too boring and the man has a nervous habit of pulling at it. He has broad shoulders, and is taller than most people around him, though still a couple of inches shorter than Dean. His jeans always cling tight to his thighs and his ass, like they’re a little too big for his small waist. He’s perfect.

Keep reading

Drunk [S.B.]

Character: Sirius Black
Word Count: 1092
Requested?: Yes/No
Summary: Sirius finds himself looking after a drunk Y/n, who is determined to make it as difficult as possible for him to do so.
Disclaimer: Gif isn’t mine, credit to whoever made it

+ + + + +

The party in the Gryffindor common room was in full swing, people dancing, laughing and drinking the firewhisky that lined the tables. The room was nearly too full for anyone to move around, however all anyone seemed to care about was Gryffindor winning the Quidditch match against Slytherin.

Sirius Black leant casually against a wall on the outskirts of the room, holding a half empty cup of firewhiskey in his hand as he observed the room.

Usually, he’d be right in the centre of everything, dancing with some girl he happened to find. However, tonight it was different. His eyes were locked on the Ravenclaw boy who dared to talk to you, hating him from a distance.

He told himself it was just the natural instinct of a best friend to want to protect you, but knew deep down it was so much more than that.

He didn’t want that boy touching you, because he wanted to be the only one to be able to do that.

He took a sip of his drink before allowing his eyes to wander, just for a few seconds, landing on his best friend James, who seemed to be acting like the giddy dork he was around none other than Lily Evans. Catch him around any other girl, he’d be his usual proud self, yet put him in front of the pretty redhead and he turned into a crushing schoolgirl.

Sirius couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement, before he then began looking around for Remus or Peter - whichever one he found first.

Remus, for once, actually seemed to be having fun. Though usually not the party type, James and Sirius had encouraged him to turn up, just for one night, and reluctantly, the werewolf had agreed.

Look where that got him - having much more fun than his usually overdramatic friend Sirius.

Sirius then, avoiding looking at you and the Ravenclaw, found Peter, who surprisingly, after having one too many shots, seemed to almost be the life of the party, though it was more likely he was just overly excited that James had scored the winning shot of the match.

Sirius often questioned whether his little rat friend was in love with James and his talent.

“Sirius dance with me!” He suddenly heard someone slur from his left. Turning, he couldn’t help the smile that graced his face when he saw it was you. Clearly intoxicated, you nearly fell into your best friend in your attempt to get to him faster. “Y/n! A-Are you drunk?” Sirius asked in shock, holding onto your body and pulling you close to him.

“What? Nooo..” you giggled, then began to slide a hand slowly down his chest, heading towards his pants. “Whatcha doing there?” Sirius said as he grabbed you hand to prevent it from moving lower.

You pouted, and leaned up to his ear, “Don’t you want to have some fun tonight?”

If it were in any other circumstances, Sirius would have jumped at the chance for a night with you, especially after being in love with you for so long now. But you were drunk - these thoughts weren’t your own, and he could only feel a little down about that.

“Trust me doll, any other time I would, but right now we need to get you to bed,” Sirius said as he once again steadied you on your feet.

“Do I have to?” You whined. Sirius didn’t bother replying, and instead started to lead you up the stairs to your dorm room.

It was one of the only times the stairs hadn’t knocked him back down.

He opened the door to your dorm and helped you inside as you muttered incoherent things to yourself, clinging onto Sirius’ neck.

You collapsed onto the bed as Sirius sat down and rested your feet on his lap, so he could take your shoes off for you. He placed them under your bed, before leaning over your body to try and take of your necklace, in case if caused you problems whilst you were asleep.

He ignored the closeness of your bodies, trying to distract himself from behind pressed against you, when you said, “I really like his position.” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, a leg gently looping around his as you tried to lift your hips to meet his.

“And you are a very sexual drunk, baby girl, but I can’t do this to you. I won’t,” he said in a low tone, stroking your cheek with his finger as he pulled away from you with the necklace, trying not to hurt your leg as he untangled it from around his. “Then just stay with me,” you muttered sleepily, holding onto his arm so he couldn’t stand up.

Sirius’ heartbeat sped up. Did you just ask him to stay longer?

Without a word, Sirius placed the necklace on your beside table, slipping out of his trousers and climbing into the bed with you, instantly wrapping his arms around you. You looked up into his dark brown eyes, mesmerised by the way they were gazing back at you with such adoration. Your stare flickered down to his soft lips, and in your drunk state, you convinced yourself it was the perfect idea to lean over and-

Sirius thought his head was going to explode from feeling so many emotions at once when your lips brushed his. He could taste the alcohol on you, and knew, deep down, that you were just doing this because you were intoxicated. However, he pushed that out of his mind, if only for a few moments, to savour something that he would cherish forever.

You pulled away, seemingly content with kissing him, and snuggled into his chest, listening to his rising heartbeat as it lulled you to sleep.

Sirius couldn’t believe what you had just done. He couldn’t believe that you had actually kissed him. Him, your best friend, of all people. Sure, you’d been making sexual advances all night, but he never thought you’d actually do something about it without passing out first.

He couldn’t believe he had you in his arms, holding onto him so tight. He pushed a loose strand of hair out of your face, and just watched how beautiful you looked, lying beside him with your dress clothes still on, and makeup half smudged across the pillow.

Sirius smiled to himself in a bittersweet kind of way.

You may not remember the kiss by the morning, but he was sure that he would never forget it.