i wish i was a boy it would suit me more

Auction AU Part 2


Here’s the first part  ! I recommend you read it before this part, or else it won’t make much sense.

Sorry this took like, ten million years. Thanks to everyone who messaged me and said they liked the first part, it always made my day <3 

————

    The relief only lasted so long once he realized that yes, no more old-leopard-print lady (thank god), but still there’s a date with someone. A stranger.

    Jack’s barely held decent conversations with his teammates, how would a date with a stranger work?

    It wouldn’t. No way.

   Feeling like he’d just survived a brutal game, Jack took a few seconds to gather himself. He wiped the condensation from his forehead (he really hoped no one had noticed), slowed his breathing, let his jaw unclench. Once his fingers became steady enough he fixed the cuffs of his uncomfortably hot suit.

   “Fuck it,” He shucked the jacket off entirely. It felt good until he lifted his arms- “Ugh.”

   Pit stains.

   For a moment he struggled with what to do: If I wear the jacket I’m uncomfortable and sweating more, but if I don’t people can see the sweat and thats embarrassing and-

   “Jack!” Someone from management tapped his shoulder, “This way, the kid is waiting on stage right.” She gave him a brief once-over, “Put on the jacket.”

    With a somewhat relieved nod, he slipped the jacket back on and wished for a calmer heart-beat.

     The wish didn’t come true, of course. It rarely did.

    They approached the stairs leading off the stage.

    This kid must like you. They bid on you. They spent money for a date-thing-whatever with you. Just smile. Act like a normal-

   “Hi!”

   -person.

   “Uh, hi.”

Keep reading

Dear future daughter,


I wanted to write this as a sort of time capsule, so that you would know how your mother was at sixteen and what I expect of you as my daughter.

I love music and singing, and I expect I’ll put you for music classes early on, unless you don’t like singing and composing which is completely okay.
You can quit and join karate or anything you want.
I won’t force you, instead I’ll let you find your own path in life, like my mom let me.

You wanna ride horses? Cool. I liked that too.
You wanna go for kickboxing and learn how to defend yourself? Cool.
You wanna do ballet and enthrall the audience with your magnificent coordination? Amazing.

Anything you want to do babe, I am hundred percent right behind you.

I am big on reading as well, and this may sound odd, but unlike dancing or singing, I would very much adore it if you loved reading as much as me.
I will introduce it gently of course, by telling you adventure stories I wrote for you, about bears and fairies, and any thing you like.
Then I would introduce all sorts of new books, the same ones my mom introduced to me,Malory Towers, St. Claires, Tin-Tin’s, Secret Seven and so on.
If you don’t like reading, I understand.
I hope you do, though.

I am really sorry but you may or may not have my acne.
I am so sorry, I know how much you suffer trying to talk to that cute boy who’s the next Zac Efron, or how hard you try to cover it up.
Or how much you cry over something that someone said about your skin.
I wish I could change things in that department but I can’t. You have combination skin just like me, and it only gets better everyday, and soon enough a beautiful sense of maturity and compassion will bloom, like those Violets you adore.

You might deal with a lot of appearance issues, and trust me, even all the way back in 2017, we still have them.
Let me tell you this, your weight is just the relationship you have with gravity.
It doesn’t define your intellect, beauty, the amount of love you can give to the universe around you.
W=m x g
That’s all weight is.
So eat that pizza, gobble that pancake and never starve yourself.
I am not saying don’t be healthy and exercise, oh no, but its okay to be kind to yourself once in a while.

Career.
Tricky.
I am not going to say I am not going to behind your grades, or behind you to keep them up, but I will give you a chance to improve if you mess up, which you will and thats okay.
That’s life.
To me, do what you love.
Do something that keeps you happy, something that keeps you interested.
Do something that makes you excited to walk into work.
I hope I am doing the same honestly.
To me, education is not just about books and grades, and the colleges you get into.
I’ve probably taken you to so many places in the world, and all that you’ve learned, all the food you’ve eaten, all the cultures you’ve experienced, that is what you have truly experienced. Of course, it won’t pay your bills and it sure as hell won’t help you get to college, but it will make you better citizens of this earth, better human beings, more accepting, less judgmental.

Love.
Oh my, honey, you are going to fall so hard.
For a broken boy with broken promises.
With the talented singer.
With the most popular boy in school.
With someone half way across the world.

In the end, after everyone, you will realize you don’t need to settle for someone who makes you feel terrible about yourself, you just need someone who treats you like the princess you are.
Trust me, its not the prettiest or the most popular that gets to be the keeper of your precious heart.

Of course, if you decide you don’t want to be in a relationship, that’s great.
You’re a strong independent woman who doesn’t need anyone to tell her how downright amazing she is.
(feminist alert! haha)

Trust me.
They are going to break you, shatter you, make you feel like you can never love again.
You will love again though.
Again and again.

(You can change the genders above to suit you)
I expect by the time you are old enough to realize who you love, who you’re attracted to, it won’t matter.
I hope for Goodness sakes, we live in progressive times.
If we don’t, I will love you no matter what, if you’re bi, demi, gender fluid or anyone.
I will love you the same.
Coming out will be the easiest thing you will ever have to do, I promise.

Religion
Well, I am an agnostic, but if you decide that you want to follow a religion I will allow it.
Preferably Hinduism because that would make my mom and dad, (your grandma and grandpa happy) but if its Buddhism, Christianity or any religion, be my guest.
Explore, decide and tell me.
I will respect you if you decide to believe in a higher power, because I think that takes a certain amount of strength.

I might get mad at you, scream, cry and you have to realize I am not perfect.
Far from it.
I just want you to be a nice, respectful and loving human being.
Your grades and talents are secondary to me.
Sure I might not buy everything you want me to, but I promise I will provide you with everything you need.

I need to leave now, but it’s been great getting to know you,
this is sixteen year old me signing out.

We Got Married (M)

Originally posted by kthmyg

8.8k words. Arranged Marriage AU. Min Yoongi.

Warning: Fingering. Phone sex. ft Kim Namjoon.


It’s hilarious, laughable, pathetic even, how love could either build you or ruin you and yet knowing this, people still chase after it like the rise of golden light beyond the horizon, or the last drop of dew in twilight, or the flutter of that one coral blue butterflies in buttercup paved meadow.

It’s frightening, daunting, startling even, how love makes your hands clammy like you’re being interviewed by the very man who founded the big shot company you’ve applied to.

And it’s utterly, impossibly, unbelievable how love comes in many ways like a bump and a spill of coffee on crisp white shirt, or a brush of hands upon a dusty leather brown book spine or an envelope obtained from a mailbox on one’s way back from grocery shopping.

Well, that’s exactly what’s happening to Min Yoongi, second son to one of the well-known elite families in Seoul. Most of the time, he couldn’t care less about family matters; business deals, dinner with alien faces and empty conversations─ those things he’s entitled to attend with mildly bored eyes and champagne he’ll never finish in one hand. But this particular matter, he can’t just not care. One, because it directly concerns him (as if the cursive letter of his name engraved in bold black against crisp white isn’t enough indication). Two, because it’s from a certain someone in his family who he’s fond of.

Dear Yoongi,

Is written on the top of the not so neat written paper.

Son,

I know you might hate me for this.

Keep reading

Golden Boy

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2165

Warnings: Smut - NSFW

Summary: After playfully sending suggestive pictures to Chris right before he presents at the Oscars you realize that you are in for the night of your life.

Author’s Notes: This wasn’t planned. I had no idea Chris was going to wear a velvet bowtie to the Oscars. I’m basically CEvans Trash. I literally just wrote this – instead of watching the freaking Oscars – so if there are any ridiculous grammar errors – please forgive me… I am tired and hormonal. This is probably trash, ha!

I tagged those of you that liked my initial post asking about this (along with some others). Soo yeah…..

Originally posted by sensualkisses

You hummed to yourself absentmindedly as you applied the rest of your makeup. Chris had promised his mom that he would take her to the Oscars this year, and you had agreed that it was a good idea. After the show was over you were to meet up with him to go to the after parties – which, let’s face it, were always the best part of the night. As you rapped your knuckles lightly on the bathroom countertop your phone dinged – alerting you to an incoming message. You reached for it as you finished putting on your lipstick. Of course it was from Chris.

“Miss you beautiful. Can’t wait to show you off to everyone.” You couldn’t help but smile at this. Of course he would send you something sweet. He had panicked that you would be upset about not going with him to the show, but you had assured him over and over that it was fine.

You had watched him get ready earlier that afternoon – the sight of him in his fitted suit and velvet tie had left your panties soaked. While you had secretly hoped for a quickie before he left for the show you had reasoned with yourself that there wasn’t time. Even the thought of the way he looked caused the tingling between your legs to start again. You checked the time on your cellphone before smiling. If the show was running on time Chris would be presenting within the next five minutes – you turned towards the television playing in the hotel bedroom for confirmation that the scheduling had not gone askew. It hadn’t and you couldn’t help but think how perfect the timing was. You were still only wearing your lingerie – not willing to wear your beautiful dress in fear of getting makeup on it. You positioned your hand over your panties, suggestively touching yourself, and formed a pout before snapping a picture.

“Wishing you could give me a hand.” You texted as you sent the picture. You could tell by your notifications that he had immediately seen it and you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself as you sat your phone down and finished getting ready.


“Jesus Christ,” Chris muttered to himself as he opened your text.

“Everything okay?” Someone beside him asked.

“Oh yeah… yeah,” he nervously blundered as he secured his phone safely back into his pocket. He was due to go on national television any minute, and was now also secretly praying that he could quell his body’s response to your text long enough to present. He chuckled nervously to himself. He knew you had done it on purpose. He had told you when his presentation was, and who it was after so you wouldn’t miss it. “I swear to god, Y/N. You’re going to be the death of me,” he mumbled to himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Mr. Evans are you sure you’re okay?” A stagehand asked nervously.

“Never been better!” He announced a little too enthusiastically. Causing his co-presenter to jump beside me.

“Great… you are on in five….four…”

That was fine – he thought to himself – two could certainly play this game and payback was going to be a bitch.


You were nervous. After your text you had never received a response from Chris, but you were sure that he had saw it. Initially you had laughed during his presentation. He seemed maybe just a little flustered – most people wouldn’t have noticed, but most people hadn’t taken him to bed before either. As you exited the limousine you looked around nervously – nearly jumping out of your skin when a warm arm wrapped itself around your waist.

“Hey Babe,” he whispered into your ear – giving you a quick peck on the cheek. You looked up at him and he graced you with one his dazzling smiles. It was only when you really looked into his eyes that you realized he had definitely seen the picture, had certainly reacted to it, and the game was totally on. You swallowed hard – trying to bottle up your excitement as he smirked at you while you walked towards the entrance of the venue. “Just for the record,” he whispered – his beard tickling your ear – “I had to masturbate in the bathroom during the Academy Awards, because of you.” He gave your ass a quick slap which caused you to straighten up in surprise. You couldn’t help but smirk back at him – this was certainly going to be a night to remember.


“Sebby!” Chris shouted as he waived Sebastian over to your table. Sebastian said his hellos before taking a seat between Jeremy and Chris.

“What was up with you tonight?” Sebastian asked with a smirk. His eyes seemed to twinkle with humor as he offered you a wink.

“What do you mean?” Chris asked as he tried his hardest to keep a straight face – failing miserably.

“You seemed a little flustered is all,” Sebastian shrugged as he laughed. “Can’t imagine what would cause Chris to lose his cool,” he added to which Jeremy chuckled.

“I was a little distracted by something,” Chris added seriously as he turned his gaze to you. You knew the more his friends joked the more you were going to pay once you were alone with him.

You smiled shyly as you brought a glass of wine to your lips. “I guess you need to work on that babe,” you shrugged before turning your attention back to your conversation with Jeremy’s wife.


The following hours seemed uneventful – at least where Chris’s revenge was concerned. You gushed over celebrities like Emma Stone, as he politely introduced you – never taking his eyes off of you as you interacted with his friends. Everyone continued to drink – the alcohol seemed endless. Each time a bottle was finished at least two more arrived to replace it.

“Everyone should be dancing!” Sebastian declared as he rose from his chair.

“Oh come on man,” Chris muttered as he shook his head. His face was tinged pink from the amount of alcohol he had consumed. “I don’t know if I can even stand right now,” he laughed.

“Y/N?” Sebastian asked as he offered you his hand. You took it willingly looking over his shoulder to see Chris’s reaction. He was watching you like a hawk – good.

You left the table with Sebastian hand-in-hand. Out of all of Chris’s friends you liked Sebastian the best – probably because you had known him before you had ever met Chris. “You are going to have hell to pay,” Seb laughed as you danced against him.

“A girl can only hope,” you laughed as you smirked in Chris’s direction. He was already rising from his chair – his eyes trained only on you and his best friend.

“That didn’t take long,” Sebastian laughed as Chis meandered his way through the crowd. As he neared Sebastian shouted, “She’s all yours,” before laughing and walking back to the table where everyone else had stayed.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Chris muttered into your ear as he pulled you roughly into him. He placed his hands on your hips –guiding them to grind into him as you felt his growing erection. “You kill me,” he muttered breathlessly against your neck. You could feel the wetness between your legs grow as he continued to harden against your contact. The feeling caused you to let out a soft moan. “Oh do you like that,” he whispered seductively into your ear.

“Yes,” you responded breathlessly. “Chris, I…” but he cut you off.

“Follow me,” he demanded as he took your hand, guiding you towards one of the many private bathrooms. Being a celebrity had its perks – at least you had a room to yourself.


You sighed as Chris looked the bathroom door behind him. You were ready. Ready for him to ravage every part of your body.

“Not so fast,” he chuckled as he pushed you gently onto the couch – you never quite understood the need for couches in bathrooms, but for once you were glad to have one. You pouted quietly as Steve took you in. “Now listen here baby girl – you’ve been torturing me all night. Sending me that naughty picture of you and grinding yourself up against my best friend. Now it’s my turn,” he muttered softly as he slowly removed his tie. “Give me your hands,” he commanded. You obeyed giving him your hands. He took them in his hands and tied the velvet material around them securely. He spun you on the couch – making you lay on it fully before raising your hands above your head. “These better not move, do you understand me?” He asked. You nodded as you whimpered your assent. You would do whatever he said if he would help the aching feeling between your legs.

He smirked as he worked your dress up to your waist – admiring a portion of the lingerie he had seen earlier in the picture. He slowly planted kisses up your leg causing you to squirm uncontrollably. More than anything you wanted to twist your fingers through his hair and you soon found your hands moving from their position. “What did I say?” he asked calmly as you placed your hands back above your head. “Good girl,” he hummed – kissing your wet core through your panties. “I think we can get rid of these,” he murmured against your skin as he worked your panties off. He gently circled his thumb around your sensitive clit causing you to buck your hips. “Mmm, my naughty girl. You’re so wet,” he remarked as he slid a finger inside of you causing you to moan out his name. “That’s right baby, you’re mine,” he said fiercely as he added another finger – pumping them in and out of you as you squirmed with pleasure. You could feel your walls tightening at his touch and your moans became louder. You didn’t care who heard you. “Not yet baby,” he whispered as he removed his fingers.

“What?” Your head snapped forward at this. He couldn’t just get you close and then stop. “Chris,” you whined as you tried to sit up. He pushed you back gently with a smile before moving his face between your legs. He smirked up at you before burying his face into you. As he lapped at your wetness you moaned his name louder causing him to suck on your sensitive clit. As you bucked your hips he slid a finger into you. His mouth and fingers were too much – causing you to cum all over his face. He lapped away your orgasm – causing more moans to fall from your mouth – before he broke away with a smirk. His beard was glistening with the remnants of your pleasure which immediately made you ready for round two.

“Stand up,” he demanded as he stood and offered you his hand. You placed your bound ones in his and he helped you to your feet. “I want you to bend over the sink,” he explained as he motioned over to the sink. You did as he commanded – your bound wrists stinging softly as the velvet bit into your soft flesh. You watched in the mirror as he removed himself from his pants – stroking himself a few times before approaching you from behind. He lifted your dress to your waist again before nudging your legs apart with his own. As he slid into you fully you groaned. He began to thrust into you as he held on to your hips tightly. “God – you are so tight,” he exclaimed as his thrusts began to become more disjointed. You groaned as your body reacted to his thrusts – you could feel your walls tightening again with the promise of a glorious orgasm. When he began palming your sensitive clit you came undone around him – your orgasm spurring his own. He stiffened as he filled you with himself. He sighed softly into your hair as he kissed the back of your neck affectionately before removing himself.

“So that’s what happens when I send you nudes when you’re at the Oscars?” you asked with a laugh as you sat shakily on the couch.

“I guess so,” he chuckled as he plopped down beside you – wrapping his arm around you and bringing your head to his shoulder.

“Well I guess I should do that more often,” you shrugged as you both laughed.

“Oh hell,” Chris sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What is it?” you asked alarmed.

“Seb and I had a bet on who would have sex at an Oscars’ after party years ago. I never thought it would be me so I’ve given him hell for years about it,” he grimaced.

“Well I guess it’s time to pay up,” you chuckled as you both rose from the couch.

“It was worth every last fucking penny,” Chris responded as he pulled you into him – planting a soft kiss on your lips.


Tags: (I tagged those of you that liked my initial post asking about this along with a few others)

@writingblockswriters @kendallefire @marvelouslyloki @seargantbcky @sapphire1727 @dont-let-me-go-again @amrita31199 @kittthekat @3brosangel @yknott81 @samanthaneedsanap @dreamer1495 @frolicsomefawkes @totallygroovyllama @caffeineandlaserbeams @sebbys-girl @bless-my-demons @moonofhisheart @giggles2107 @summerbummer2001 @ninjayjumper @vidishajain @fan-guirl @ily-celebrities @harleyqueen7

anonymous asked:

Just stay with me: marichat?

Marinette huddled under her blanket, her hands clutched around a mug of steaming tea to help fight off the cold. 

She didn’t want to go inside. 

She had thought she had seen the worst of it. She had faced down so many akumas. She had fought against her best friend with barely a flinch of hesitation, knowing that she could do what needed to be done and that everything would be alright. She thought there was nothing she couldn’t handle. 

She had never thought she might have to fight her own mother. 

Marinette huddled further into the corner of her terrace. 

They had been victorious of course. Cleansing the akuma and restoring the city to rights. But while the superficial damage may have been repaired, the emotional damage was taking a toll that Marinette had never realized was possible until it struck at the heart of her own family. 

The attack last night had been all over the news. They always were. The first time the footage aired that morning Marinette had watched in horror as her usually indomitable mother had burst into tear, shutting herself in the bedroom and leaving a silent Tom and Marinette to finish the morning preparation. The normally bustling bakery had been a ghost town, and even though Marinette was off from school her father had told her there was little she could help with and to go enjoy her day off since there wasn’t much to be done.

Alya had insisted that this was normal and would die down in a day or two, sending Marinette several links to articles and interviews she had done on the subject. It didn’t do much to lift Marinette’s spirits, but she couldn’t help but feel an awed sense of pride at the incredible dedication her friend had towards her site.  

Sabine had of course eventually recovered after a few hours. Coming down and joining Tom in the empty shop, but in spite of her attempts to act as though everything was fine, the general atmosphere was sullen. Tom had ultimately retreated to the kitchen to take his frustrations out on a new bread recipe he had wanted to try, and Marinette had retreated to her balcony. 

She felt like a failure. 

She kept seeing the image of her mother- twisted and transformed into one of Hawkmoths minions, glaring at her lunging forward to rob her of her Miraculous. 

It had been by far one of her worst fights. Her mind had been unable to focus, instead racing with questions and wondering if she could have stopped this. 

Thank God for Chat. He had immediately registered her distress and more than picked up the slack, taking the lead for a change. He had forsaken his habitual good humored flirting and managed the battle with a quiet, efficient intensity that she would not have expected from her usually exuberant partner.

It had been over in a matter of minutes, one of their shorter battles if she was being honest. But it had somehow felt like an eternity, and she had barely been able to get through the traditional fist bump before fleeing the scene so that no one would see her burst into tears. 

Now here she was, huddled helplessly against the wind, her face stained with tears that had been falling on and off for the last few hours, ashamed to go inside. 

She heard the sound of footfalls on the roof and looked up expecting to see her father. Instead she was met with the concerned green eyes of her partner. 

“Chat… what are you doing here?” she asked fighting the urge to attempt to straighten up her appearance. 

“I like to check up on the victims after the attacks,” he said collapsing his baton and stowing it behind his back. 

“I wasn’t the victim.” 

“I know. I already spoke to your mother down in the bakery.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, surprised, “How…” she trailed off. 

“She’ll be ok,” Chat said coming to sit down beside her. “She was blaming herself for something she had no control over.” He gave Marinette an assessing glance. “Seems to be a trait with the Cheng women I see.” 

She laughed softly then scooted closer and dropped her head against his shoulder. Too tired and too heartsick to care that she was untransformed and therefore shouldn’t be showing this level of familiarity.

Chat’s eyes widened slightly in surprise but he made no effort to stop her, only adjusting slightly so they fit together in a more comfortable angle. 

“I didn’t know you did this,” she said quietly. 

“Did what?”

“Visited with the victims. It’s very kind of you.” 

“No one should have to go through something like this alone,” he said, “pain is worse if you don’t talk to anyone about it. It can change you, leave you broken. Even hurt the people around you.” 

“You sound like you have some experience on the subject.” 

“I might.” 

She nodded slightly and took a small sip of her tea. “Do you talk to all of the victims?” she asked curiously. 

“No, not all of them. Some of them don’t need it, I’ll go to check in on them and they will already be on the road to recovery. Your friend Alya for example. She had her own ways of coping.” 

“You should have talked to her anyways. You know she would have adored getting a personal visit from Chat Noir.”

“You know in retrospect you are right,” he said with a small smile. “Next time I’m on patrol I’ll make a point of letting her catch me for an interview. Unless you want to make my life easier and just help with a set up?” 

“She’s coming over for a sleepover tomorrow night,” Marinette said feeling warmer for the first time all day.

“I’ll be sure to coincidentally land on your balcony during my rounds. Say around 9:00?” 

Marinette smiled. 

“So, who was the most difficult person for you to talk to?” she asked. 

Chat thought for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration. 

“Probably the little girl, the one who stole all your dolls, remember?” 

“You talked to Manon?” 

“Yeah, that one was rough. Not gonna lie I went home that night and put together a Hawkmoth dart board. Might have gotten a little carried away. Even stabbed the thing with a fencing sword if you can believe it.” 

Marinette laughed, pressing closer against her partner and he wrapped an arm around her. 

“That’s actually kind of fantastic,” she said, “Do you still have it?” 

“Nah, my father made me take it down. I think it freaked him out that I was violently lashing out what most of Paris thinks of as some unknown mystical super being.” 

“What do you think of him as?” 

“Exactly what he is- some guy in a suit who thinks its ok to terrorize innocent people for his own selfish gain. He might have powers but he’s just an ordinary man.” 

“Like you are?” she said, looking up at him and for the first time desperately wishing she could know the boy behind the mask. 

“Exactly.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Marinette sipping on her tea without really tasting it and Chat rubbing his hand idly up and down her arm over the blanket. 

“Why did you come to talk to me?” Marinette asked at last. 

“Because you looked like you needed a friend,” he replied. 

“I do,” she admitted, hating the pricking of tears she could feel returning to her eyes, “I really do.” 

“Is there anything I can do for you princess?” he asked tenderly, wrapping his other arm around her and pulling her in close. 

“Just stay with me.” 


Look I did angst!!!! Part of my 4 word prompt drabbles. Not taking on new ones atm just finishing the ones I have. 

imagine #22

pairing: jeff atkins x reader

characters: Jeff Atkins, Montgomery de la Cruz, Jessica Davis, Courtney Crimson, Hannah Baker, Clay Jensen, Justin Foley, Tony Padilla

warning: nonconsensual touching (butt), alcohol, a bit crying, drunken confessions. 

word count: 1,990

(not my gif)

Your name: submit What is this?

You were stumbling a bit as you stood in the middle of the gym and in front of one of the jocks of Liberty High, your date for the Winter Formal, Montgomery. His hand was laying way too close to your butt for your liking as the two of you swayed to the upbeat music playing, but the alcohol in your veins told you that it wasn’t anything to worry about.

Keep reading

Jewel In The Crown (M)

florist!kihyun, 15.1k, he knows what beautiful is but he’s also a bit jealous and has shitty friends

warning: smut (kihyun is a virgin, his first time, oral for both, slightly dom!kihyun i guess??)

“You look really nice by the way…Ignore that. You look beautiful. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.”

Originally posted by wonhontology

Keep reading

Fire (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Request! 🙌🏽

A/N: Hey y'all! This was sent in by the lovely anon who requested some hardcore angry sex. I kinda changed it up a lil bit because the original one i wrote I lost cuz I didn’t save it and I couldn’t get on tumblr to re look at the request! 😭 but I hope you like it! ENJOY! - Delilah ❤


Request: I’m begging you, full out on my knees, to make a smutty bucky one-shot that is just total hate sex. Like him and the reader just dont get along, she thinks hes too brooding and a total try hard, and he thinks shes a pampered bitch. and then one night when theyre fighting just BAM! hate sex but then they realize they actually like each other but none of them will admit it ;)) (there can be a part two, if you want, maybe,) I love your writing

xxxxxxxx


“Are you fucking serious, Barnes?” you spat as you both entered the quinjet.

This was the third time in the last month he’s jeopardized a mission. The last two were purely out of spite, just to get a reaction out of you. But this time, he almost got you killed as well. To say the both of you disliked each other was a serious understatement. You fucking despised each other with a fiery passion and everyone knew it. You two were polar opposites.

When Bucky got into his little mood swings, he expected you to just shut your mouth and take it. After all, that’s what he was used to with Steve. But you weren’t anything like Steve. Not at all. You were extremely outspoken, you spoke your mind whenever and however you wanted. You weren’t anybody’s trained monkey, especially not his. So of course, when he realized you had zero amount of chill in you, all it did was piss him off even more and fuel the fire between you two.

“For fucks sake, Y/N,” he spat back just as bitterly. “Just shut your mouth for once!”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. You honestly didn’t understand his logic. So, you were supposed to just sit quiet while he screwed this entire operation up? No fucking way.

“I know you’re probably used to getting your way,” you bickered, sitting in the pilot seat and flicking on the many switches. “But I’m not everybody else.”

All though you couldn’t see him, you could tell your words hit home. The subtle rumbling of the quinjet was the only audible thing as it lifted from the ground. You, being the pilot and all, kept your focus on keeping the jet in the air. But all that went to shit as soon as you heard him say something under his breath.

“Excuse me?” you spun around in the chair.

“I said you really need to get laid. That’s probably why you’re such a bitch all the time.”

You usually had excellent composure when it came to problematic people like him, but that was your last straw. Standing up, you walked over towards him and smacked him straight across the face.

His head jolted to the side from the force. Slowly, you could see a little red handprint right where the spot was.His eyes widened at first and you immediately regretted hitting him. Reality started hitting you like a brick wall. Bucky was twice your size, not in height though. You were only two or three inches shorter, but when it came to muscle mass, he was a fucking beast.
And you just had to go and awaken it, didn’t you?

“I-I’m sorry!” you squeaked, backing away from him slowly.

He was completely silent, and that sent chills down your spine. He stepped forward, stalking towards you. His blue eyes were much darker than before, which wasn’t a good sign at all. Oh god, what if you somehow managed to send him straight into Winter Soldier mode? If that happened, there was no way on earth you’d be able to fight him off.

Your instincts finally kicked in, screaming at you to run towards the rear of the jet, which held most of the weaponry. It wasn’t the brightest idea but what else was there? You were in midair! Without another thought, you tried to slip past him.

And boy were you wrong.

With ease, Bucky’s metal and wrapped around your throat and slammed you into the wall of the quinjet. You let out a frightened squeak. He placed his flesh hand around your chin harshly, digging into the flesh. You kicked your legs, trying to at least knee him in the crotch. Nat always said that was the best defense in those situations.

Before you could do it, you felt Bucky’s lips on yours.

You went completely frozen.

You expected to be stabbed to death, certainly not this. As fucked up as it was, you couldn’t help but acknowledge how nice his lips felt against your trembling ones. His lips moved against yours expertly, his tongue running along your bottom lip. You didn’t mean to, but a small moan escaped your lips. He pressed his body into yours, easing himself between your legs.

It’s as if he could tell you were enjoying yourself. He pulled away far too soon, smirking down at your smaller self with triumph. Oh, you hated him so much.

“See?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “You’re already a much more pleasant person and we’ve only gotten to first base.”
You wiggled in his grasp, earning nothing but an amused chuckle from him. As humiliating as it was, you were so turned on. You could feel the wetness inside your cat suit and you desperately wished it would go away.

“I hate you,” you frowned, much to Bucky’s dismay.

“I don’t hate you, Y/N.” he says, leaning in between your legs and pressing kisses along your throat. You gasped, throwing your head back. “I dislike you sometimes,” He sucked harshly on the piece of flesh just below your ear, earning a cry of pleasure from you.

“But. I. Don’t. Fucking. Hate. You.” he thrusted his hips against yours after each word, causing your breaths to stutter.

With a small, submissive moan, you spread your legs wider for him. You could feel him grin into your neck. He was enjoying this so much. With another roll of his hips, you felt your orgasm growing nearer. You let out little pants, moving your hips against his much harder. Bucky’s erection pressed against your heat, giving you a sweet mental image of how big he was.

“Bucky,” you whispered, your voice trembling as your orgasm neared. “Please…I’m…I’m gonna-“

The next thing you know, Bucky’s hand released its grip on your throat. Instead, his hand went straight for your ponytail, twisting it painfully. You let out cry, reaching your hands behind your head to free yourself. He practically dragged you away from the wall, all the way until you were facing the large window of the quinjet windshield.

Bucky’s flesh hand slid down to your lower back and gave you a harsh push. Losing your balance, you felt your front collide with the dashboard, your suit pressing against the many buttons. You winced at the feeling of the buttons pressing into your torso. There was no doubt, you were going to have a dozen little triangular shaped bruises tomorrow.

Bucky’s hand gripped the zipper of your suit and slowly tugged it down. You felt the material separate down your body, leaving you exposed. His hand traced down your spine gently, taking in the feel of your feverish skin. With a groan, you rocked your behind back into his crotch. He hissed, grabbing the unzipped material and pulling it from your body, leaving you in only your underwear.

“Fuck…” you heard him whisper under his breath. His hand traced the curve of your ass gently, feeling the soft skin in his hands. He pinched it harshly, earning a cry from you. Bucky traced the waistband of your underwear, pulling it back from your body and snapping it back onto your skin.

“Bucky,” you moaned. “Please fuck me.” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded anymore. You wanted him inside you so fucking bad and all he did was tease you. It was so unfair.

“You gotta ask nicely, sweetheart.” He cooed, hooking his finger underneath the waist band of your underwear and tugging them down your thighs. You could hear the sound of his belt coming undone and the shuffling of his pants coming off. You saw his jacket and shirt being tossed onto the pilot chair near you.

“Please, Bucky,” you tried to sound as innocent as possible. “Please fuck me hard. I need it so bad. Please…sir.”

His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips at the last word.

You were in for it now.

Without any warning, he slammed his hips into yours, his cock entering you forcefully. You let out a scream that echoed throughout the quinjet. Bucky fucked you hard and fast, his metal hand twisted into your hair. Your body jolted forward with each thrust, your nipples brushing against the many buttons beneath you.

“Oh my go-o-o-od!” you moaned, your voice stuttering with each thrust. Bucky nudged his foot with your left one, forcing your legs apart even further. You could feel each and every inch of him inside you, burying himself into your heat deeper and deeper. You placed your hands on the dashboard for support.

“You like that, you little bitch?” he asked, landing a smack onto your behind. You nodded your head furiously. He gave you another smack, this one harder than the last.

“Yes, sir!” You cried out, clenching around his cock. “I love it so fucking much!”

He threw his head back at the feeling, letting out a string of Russian curses. You didn’t understand what he said, but it was still probably the hottest thing you’ve seen. The way his abs flexed each time he crashed into you sent a wave of arousal over you.
For the second time, you felt your orgasm creeping up. You were so fucking close, so close. You just needed it a little bit harder.

Your thighs began to tremble from the approaching euphoria; your eyes closed on their own accord. You could feel your juices on Bucky’s thighs, dripping down your own onto the ground. The sounds that escaped your mouth were so fucking dirty and borderline pornographic, but it only seemed to please Bucky even more.

With a scream of his name, you came on Bucky’s cock. Your pussy tightened around him, milking him into his own release. Bucky fell against your back, his hips stuttering as he neared his own finish. You whimpered, feeling the aftershocks of his thrusts. You could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest. You reached your hand behind you, slipping it between the two of you and began massaging his balls.
And that was it for him.

“Fuck, Y/N!” he shouted into your shoulder, his hips slamming into yours a final time. You could feel his come coat your walls, filling you up. You wiggle from underneath him, accidentally clenching around his cock. His let out a groan, his fingers digging into your hips.

“I think my hips are broken.” You whisper, peering over your shoulder. All jokes aside, you could already feel the soreness building in your hip area. Jesus, you won’t be able to sit down for at least a few days. Damn Bucky and his super soldier cock.

“I don’t hate you,” he admitted softly into your shoulder, completely ignoring your previous statement. Your eyes widened. “I never really did dislike you, either.”

You turned your head to the side. “Then why do you treat me like you do?” you ask, staring at the wall of the quinjet. This was more than just shocking. You were actually convinced that he hated you with his entire being. So what was going on?

“I’m not exactly good at expressing love correctly,” he confessed, letting out a small laugh. But you could tell there was no humor behind it.

“Love?” You questioned, your eyebrows raised.

“I love you, Y/N,” he shifted so that he was right by your ear now. “I have for a while now.”

You couldn’t fight the grin that spread on your face even if you wanted to.

You sigh dramatically. “I guess I kinda, sorta, maybe love you, too. But only if you promise to do this every time we fight.”

He let out a laugh, sending vibrations down your spine.

“You got it, doll.”


-FIN ❤

(I can’t look at the quinjet the same now lol!) ❤

Take a look at the fics from the 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names Challenge !

As usual, all my fic recs are in the masterpost.

⭐️ Wholehearted , by TheMagicWord  : AU. When superstar singer and winner of The Voice Louis Tomlinson tweets “Nothing worse than waking up with no milk for a cuppa !! Gutted” he doesn’t expect someone to bring him some. And he really doesn’t expect that someone to have bright green eyes, long curly hair, and (fucking) dimples.

Larry famous not famous AU (77k) : stop everything and read it now. Fav smut (kind of share that)(also ANKLE KINK), and a bit of angst because closeting and bearding.

⭐️See Clearly Now , by @a-writerwrites : OR a five-times fic where two guys, one college dorm room and a faulty door lead to a few embarrassing situations and finding out more about themselves and each other than they ever bargained for. 

Larry Roommates Uni AU (11k) : omg so much wanking. All the wanking. And so much fun !

⭐️  On The Open Road , by MoonlitLarrie : Harry and Louis grew up together, they shared childhood and teenage memories, but they never really got along. What happens when they reunite after four years of not seeing each other, and they find out that the person they hated so much is not the same person anymore? Or a short roadtrip!au in which Harry and Louis have to travel together across the US, deal with the past and of course, share a bed.

Larry road-trip and hate to love AU (24k) : the question is : will I never be tired of this plot ? The answer is : NEVER. Great story, and funny moments ! also car sex , WHOOP WHOOP. (read the tags for TW)

⭐️ come away with me , by @fukcinglouis :  Louis had such big plans. He wanted so much out of life, and so did Amy. Now Bridget is going to grow up without a mother, and she’s always going to wonder what it would be like if this hadn’t happened. He wonders if she’ll blame him for her mother’s death as she gets older, or if she’ll understand that this is just as painful for Louis as it is for her. Louis doesn’t know how he’s going to raise her on his own, because he’s a fantastic father, yes, but he’s always been the fun parent, and Amy was in charge of the rules. He doesn’t know how to make sure Bridget has everything she needs all the time, doesn’t know how to make her favorite meal or how to do that one braid she loves to have in her hair or how to teach her to be the best person she can be. He doesn’t know how to live without Amy, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter’s life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help.

Larry single dad Louis (80k) : this is hurting a lot tbh. Widower Louis (and fair warning, you’ll see his wife in the first chapter), a very big sexual identity crisis, a lot of angst … and it’s awesome. Kind of share that for the smut!

⭐️The Oldest Magic Word  , by anonymous : Louis gets called up to play Seeker for the English National Team and when he gets there, he finds out that Harry Styles, his old school crush, is the Team Healer.

Larry Harry Potter AU (18k) : say hello to the HP Exchange ! also sayyyy helllo to teasing/pining/sexual tension !! GREAT :)) (love you forever for the shower sex)(bottom Louis)

⭐️When You Look Like That , by @hrrytomlinson​ : “You… you still have the dress form I got you for your eighteenth birthday? You’ve kept it for ten years, Harry?” Louis’ eyes flick around Harry’s studio. It’s big and modern, with floor to ceiling windows that help flood the room in bright sunlight, just like the lobby. However, he can’t stop staring at the faded, but present, heart surrounding the “H + L” written delicately in Louis’ handwriting in the center of the mannequin. Louis is a songwriter who is nominated for a Grammy and he needs a suit. Fast. He seeks out help from a very popular, very mysterious designer who just so happens to be his ex-boyfriend.

Larry AU (16k) famous-famous AU and ex to lovers , with a great story, fluffy and not angsty or smutty :)

⭐️ Be with me so happily , by @briannamarguerite Or … the one where Harry Styles has a bad reputation and a heart of gold, and Louis Tomlinson wishes he wasn’t so enchanted by boys who looked like Disney characters and wore shirts with bumble bees on them. [aka Louis is the director of the Styles Elephant Sanctuary and really doesn’t want to babysit his funder’s spoiled lay-about son for two months]

Larry AU (42k) : rich and kind of famous Harry, sassy Louis, some hate to love who doesnt last long, a bit of angst (and elephants will make me you emo) , also yay smut ! (kind of share that)

⭐️ a body wishes to be held & held , by turnyourankle : Harry wants to return the favour after Louis helps him out with his heat.

Larry a/b/o (7k) : let’s be real : it’s smut. Hellooooo dirty talks ! Omega Harry !

Comprehensive List of Ryden Songs

For anon! Marking the songs written by Ryan as R and Brendon as B 

Northern Downpour: R The Ryden Song. 

  • Ryan told Brendon to pay special attention to the line ‘I know the world’s a broken bone, but melt your headaches, call it home’
  • Brendon has broken down many times while performing it post split and doesn’t sing it anymore
  • ‘I missed your skin when you were east’ is believed to be a reference to the Seattle lore. 
  • ‘Hey moon, please forget to fall down’ - Sun & Moon theory  

When The Day Met The Night: R obvious Sun & Moon theory also here Brendon uses male pronouns in the second verse!

Cape Town: R by The Young Veins, Ryan and Jon’s band, post split

  • Cape Town was the last show Panic played before they split
  • Includes the line ‘I loved you, I left you in Cape Town’
  • Ryan has also said the split was like breaking up with a girlfriend

The Other Girl: R 

  • ‘Don’t have much to say right now, Cause I’m trying to figure out, Why he’s with the other girl’ wow need I say more?

Bittersweet: B 

  • ‘I’ve been to Tokyo and to South Africa’ Cape Town is in South Africa and it’s like a response to Cape Town
  • ‘You could tell me secrets that I’ll probably repeat
    I’m not trying to hurt you, I just love to speak’  
    we know Ry is a secretive person and Brendon has a big mouth so yeah 

Nearly Witches: R+B ahhh The Song Of Salt and pain

  • Ryan wrote the song during the cabin days, but later Brendon used it on V&V with some modifications
  • basically he changed it from a creepy, spooky song to a romantic thing
  • also he changed Ryan’s ‘as a boy’ to ‘as a girl’
  • AND THE Main Thing: Brendon mocked Ryan’s original lyrics ‘here I am composing a burlesque’ Very Frequently by singing it in a.. camp way.. and thrusting his hips etc

Memories: B check this out

The Calendar: B subtlety has never been B’s best suite 

  • This is officially about the split and Ryan and Jon. Like confirmed.
  • but  ‘And I meant everything I said that night
    I will come back to life, But only for you’ 
  • ‘Put another ex on the calendar, Summer’s on its deathbed’ -Sun & Moon theory  
  • ‘at night your body’s a symphony, and I’m conducting’…!!

Hurricane: B 

  • Cause they know, I know that they don’t look like me.
    Oh, they know, I know that they don’t sound like me.  -
    referring to the young veins changing their style 
  • But he didn’t come and speak to me, Or put my heart at ease.

Casual Affair: B

  • preceded by an anti gay message from an old film during live shows
  • which possibly implies it’s about a gay affair? I think brendon said it was about fantasizing etc so yeah

Nicotine: B brendon’s denied it, but a lot of people think the muffled intro sounds like I love you Ryan Ross, but not right now…

Lonely Moonlight: R  Ryan’s solo work

  • ‘When I had a younger heart, You told me not to fear the dark’
  • ‘Someone I love loves someone else’  awww poor bb
  • also even the title is Sun & Moon theory

Where I Belong: R again one of Ry’s 2014 demos

  • If you wanna see the sun, You’re gonna have to dig your way out - Sun & Moon theory 
  • I know I should’ve never left, I’d gotten tired being buried -possibly he was tired of hiding behind Brendon’s voice for his words, but he regrets leaving
  • I hope that I’ve still got your help - Ryan’s actually said he’s not against working with panic again

Impossible Year: B

  • There’s no sunshine, This impossible year - Sun & Moon theory  
  • bitter pills, tattoos, last bruises, no you and me

House of Memories: B he’s not subtle lmao

  • Memories turn into daydreams, Become a taboo 
  • I think of you from time to time, More than I thought I would….You were just too kind And I was too young to know 
  • Those thoughts of past lovers, They’ll always haunt me.. I wish I could believe, You’d never wronged me 
  • honestly, brendon didn’t really have very serious relationships before Sarah so who is he talking about?? (ryanryanryan)

Golden Days: B the throam song (I’m looking @ u anna green)

  • I found a pile of Polaroids, In the crates of a record shop 
  • Boy he was something debonair in 1979
  • Time can never break your heart but it’ll take the pain away
Winking

For @defiantlilsheep who requested “Draco cant wink. He can do anything and everything but he cant wink. Trust me.” …. this got a bit longer than a tiny Drabble I couldn’t help it!


When Harry had returned for his eighth year at Hogwarts he had absolutely promised himself that if a certain blonde haired pointy git who may or may not have helped save his life but was also most definitely still an arsehole happened to return he would not get himself involved no matter what.

Except, once school started he realized that he had the small matter of returning Malfoy’s wand to handle, so he had to see him. I mean sure he could’ve returned it by owl but that would just been rude. He had to do it person. He had to. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

He put it off for weeks before finally walking up to him while he was studying outside and both thanking him and apologizing for stealing his wand. And the truth was Malfoy had been so different during the exchange; solemn and pensieve and if he didn’t know better even remorseful. He had told Harry not to apologize, that he was the one who should be sorry. Harry had been so flustered he’d muttered something about studying and nearly tripped on his own feet in his haste to escape the confusing thoughts swirling through his brain and making him feel like he’d been punched in the stomach.

But still, none of that could change the fact that he was still an arse and Harry didn’t care what he did. Or at least that’s what he kept trying to tell himself. He’d always been pretty good at lying to himself, so he hoped it might work this time.

As time went on Harry realized that it was definitely not working.

He couldn’t help but be curious when twice in the same week he walked into an empty loo to find Malfoy making an odd face in the mirror. Both times the other boy had looked horrified at being caught and run away. Although Harry had no idea what exactly he’d caught Malfoy doing.

And that was a problem, because try as he might Harry didn’t like when he didn’t know what was going on. It wasn’t that he was obsessed with Malfoy as a person, he just wanted to know why he seemed so different and what exactly he was doing.

Hermione told him he was nosy and to please promise not to become obsessed with Malfoy again. Harry had promised.

The thing was, he had to admit to himself he’d never actually stopped being obsessed with Malfoy and therefore when he caught himself once again searching him out on the Mauraders Map and following him around under the invisibility cloak or ducking around dark corridors he figured he wasn’t actually breaking his promise. You couldn’t exactly start doing something again if you’d never really stopped doing it in the first place.

Harry swore he would only do it a few times, just until he figured out what the other boy was up too. The problem was he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he was doing.

Harry knew he was getting sloppy, knew he was being obvious, but by the second term he just couldn’t help himself. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, being away from Malfoy. And the odd faces he kept catching him making in bathroom mirrors and suits of armor had gone from weird and perplexing to confusing and adorable. Which was more than a little unsettling.

Harry however, had no excuse when he caught himself trying to figure out what kind of tea Malfoy was drinking at breakfast, or what his Potions partner said that made his lips curl up in a soft smile, or what kind of books he was reading when he sat hidden in the corner of the library pretending to study potions and thought no one could see him.


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


It was a bright and sunny morning. Harry had snuck out of the castle early to get a bit of flying before classes started.

The sky was so clear and the weather was just perfect for flying. Only instead of being happy to be up in the air, Harry’s only thought was of how much he wished Malfoy was up there with him, challenging him to the snitch.

It was at that exact moment that Harry realized he wasn’t obsessed with Malfoy.

He was falling in love with him. And that was definitely worse. Much worse.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Potter!” Malfoy yelled, grabbing the back of Harry’s robe and dragging him into a darkened alcove behind a rather rusty suit of armor.

“Oi - watch it, Malfoy.”

“Watch it? Watch it?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” He shrieked and Harry had the decency to shrink back a little bit.

“You’re the one who won’t stop watching! Everywhere I look there you are! Always skulking about and staring me and interrupting me when I’m trying to- well it doesn’t matter what I’m trying to do the point is you’re a world class nuisance like always and I can’t concentrate when you’re constantly following me around like a lost kneazle.”

Harry blinked a few times then smiled, which was clearly not what Malfoy was expecting because the look of confusion on his face was priceless.

“You find me distracting?” Harry asked curiously, smiling again when Malfoy began backing up as Harry walked forward.

“Of course you’re distracting, Potter. You bumble around noisily like the obnoxious twat you are. I don’t know how you could possibly think I hadn’t noticed you. You’re everywhere, making a nuisance of yourself.”

Harry couldn’t help but notice the way Malfoy’s fingers were curling as he talked, the sweat building on his brow, and the way his breathing was quickening. To anyone else it looked like Malfoy was angry, but Harry wasn’t anyone else. He’d spent the better part of the last few months doing nothing but watching him and this wasn’t angry this was something else entirely; it was arousal. He was sure of it.

Or pretty sure of t at least. Sure enough to take a chance.

“So then Malfoy, what exactly are you up to? If you tell me I promise to stop following you.”

“So you admit you’ve been following me!” Malfoy shouts, putting his hands on Harry’s chest and shoving him gently. But it’s not aggressive, not even a little bit, and Harry just grins mischievously.

“Are you trying to get my attention?”

Malfoy splutters. “I most certainly am not!”

“Yes you are. Admit it.”

“I was not trying to get your attention I was trying to learn to wink!”

Harry stops at that. Quirking his head to the side. “To wink?”

Malfoy looks embarrassed now, smoothing down the front of his robes and staring at his feet.

“I can’t wink. I saw you wink at that Weasley girl during the first quidditch match of the season and I figured if you could do it so could I. Except I can’t and I look like a right tosser trying! Are you happy now?!”

“I could teach you.”

“Teach me? Teach me?!” He all but shrieks starting to sound a bit hysterical.

“It’s not hard, Malfoy. I can teach you….if you want me to.”

They’re so close now Harry can see Malfoy’s pupils dialating, so close their lips would be touching if he just moved forward a bit, angling his head up.

Malfoy seems to have realized the same thing because he kicks his lips, blinking a few times before muttering “Alright fine, teach me how to blink. Let me have it, Potter.”

Harry isn’t sure what posseses him but at those words he feels some of his self control snap and he leans upwards to close the distance between them, pressing their lips together.

Draco’s lips are cold and chapped and he taste almost bitter like earl grey tea without enough sugar. He smells like fresh air and parchment and the blueberry scones the house elves had sent up for tea today. It’s new and familiar all at one and Harry doesn’t think he’s ever felt more exhilarated in his life, until Draco’s shock wears of and he’s kissing him back fiercely, pulling him closer and sliding his hands into Harry’s hair almost desperately.

Harry would be embarrassed at the whimpering moans of desperation he’s making, but Draco is making them right back so he can’t be arsed to worry about it.

Much later after the desperation has turned softer, they stand there with their foreheads pressed together, out of breath but full of hope.

“So, did you still want me to teach you how to wink?” Harry all but whispers. He’s surprised when Draco just starts to laugh.

“If you must know I was only trying to learn in order to get your attention.” He seems a bit embarrassed at his admission, but something about it warms Harry’s heart.

“I knew it! You were trying to get my attention and you were up to something.”

“God you’re an wanker, Potter,” he mumbles, reaching his hands around Harry’s body to rest just above his arse.

“Well yeah…but at least now I’m your wanker.”

“Yeah?” Draco asks, a genuine smile on his face.

“Definitely,” Harry says, and he winks at him for good measure.

Draco groans, spinning them around to switch their positions and slamming Harry back against the wall, pressing their bodies together and kissing him with such intensity Harry feels like he might faint.

Oh yes Harry thinks with pleasure as Draco’s mouth attaches itself to his neck, there will definitely be a lot more winking in his future.

Seeing Stars

How long had it been? Four or Five Years since you became his caretaker? Five, but the last year seemed like a blur. A wonderful blur, but a blur nonetheless. Now, the merman considered you more than a friend or caregiver. You were his mate. And he made sure to show it and let any staff member know if they even looked at you with a lustful gaze.

He was a special case. He was sentient and had the ability to speak. Though he often refused to. So, the staff members allowed the relationship to form. And when your manager saw his drastic improvements - he urged you to take it much farther than just friends.

He was a deep sea Mermaid. Unlike the reef mermaids who were predominantly female and brightly colored. His skin was desaturated and light grey. His body was muscular, but athletic. He had: black hair, a Spiney tail with bioluminescent scales that formed a pattern, sharp teeth, webbed hands, and pink eyes that dilated and contracted in the light. And his species were predominantly male. They rarely ever came to the surface unless in need of help. This Merman however was caught in Reef Mermaid Territory and they nearly ripped him limb from limb. His injuries had been life threatening, but thankfully since he was a rather large size - he was able to the operated on and saved.

When his time came to be released back into the wild - he relented. He wanted to stay and learn more about humans. And the aquarium allowed it. In return he just had to show off every once in awhile for an audience; something he was fine with doing since it was only for an hour three times a day.

However, he was picky about his humans. Only certain ones could give him medical care. And only one could teach him. And that was you. And he fell for you very quickly. He would always bring you gifts or ask certain staff to give you cards he came up with. Or even give you a bag of his favorite human snacks. And in your fourth year, you started to fall for him slowly. He even gave himself a human name for you.

“Star?”

He didn’t understand the concept of gender. Biological sex yes, but gender was something he honestly didn’t care about.

You looked out and saw him break the surface his pink eyes just watching you. You watched him go back under. Something was up. You took off your jacket and set his meal aside. Then your shoes before carefully wading into the water.

He popped up again this time in front of you. He looked flustered.

“S-sorry.” he mumbled, “I’m not feeling the best today.”

“It’s alright, are you feeling feverish? Bloated or?” you asked him.

Your aquarium knew a lot about his biology, but there was one thing they could never figure out and that was mating cycles. They weren’t like most animals where it was yearly or even monthly. Their cycles had to build up. And something in the back of your head told you - you were about to find out all about his biological mating cycle.

“Bloated… is a very good word for this love.” he chuckled softly, “Tell me what is the moon phase?”

“Full, and the fifth Anniversary of you being here.” you said blinking curiously.

“Mmmm that would be it…” he said, “Love it would be wise if you were not in the pool with me. I’m sentient, but still wild in my own way.” he gently pushed you into the shallow end.

It clicked. And your face was crimson red.

“O-oh!” is all you said.

He nodded, “I don’t want to risk hurting you.”

You scrambled back a bit, and he followed, but was still a few feet away. He just gave you a gentle smile.

“Sweetheart, you know you can ask me anything right?” you asked him softly.

“I do, but I know not how human anatomy would work with mine. I cannot risk hurting you or feel the heartbreak of an unviable brood. This will pass I promise.” he said albeit eerily calmly.

He looked over and saw the bucket of fish and hummed. He grabbed it and devoured the entire thing. Which was odd for him as he was a light eater. Yet this time he left nothing but bones.

“I-i mean… if human males can inseminate the Reef Mermaids… it should work for us yes?” you asked him.

He licked his fingers, before cleaning up his mess and setting the bucket aside. He crawled up further to you. He smirked.

“See, they are built like whales or other fish. My kind… we’re a little different. Being all male we have a different system that can work with each others anatomy.”

A webbed hand ran up your abdomen and gently pushed it. Like as if he were testing something. He hummed idly.

“Technically we’ve not consummated - so… I-i…” you murmured.

He heard this and perked up looking down at you, eyes bright and surprised. His skin filled with blood and turned red, his bioluminescent parts lighting up. He seemed to really appreciate that offer. He lowered down and kissed you.

“Tell me are you truly that serious? My kind mates for life. And if we do this~” he cooed.

You giggled, “Of course, I love you Star.” you said throwing your arms around him. You pressed into him, “T-that and to be honest I am rather curious… if it hurts me in anyway we will stop.”

He chuckled and gently tugged at your wetsuit.

“Promise?” he asked, “And should I explain… or?”

“No, explaining anything. It might scare me off, if I have questions I’ll ask as we go along. And I promise.” you chuckled nervously reaching up and unzipping your suit to reveal your breasts.

“Alright, but if I don’t stop just punch me in the nose alright?” he asked.

You playfully roll your eyes, “Alright. Jesus, for a creature that’s not supposed to be intelligent you’re smarter than most of my species males.”

He chuckled and ripped off your suit deeming you were being too slow. “Well we do love our partners. They come first.”

He looked over your body, gently touching every area he could to get a gauge on what felt good for you. Your neck, your thighs, the small of your back,and even smaller areas most humans forgot about. When he found all your erogenous zones he went to work.

You were quite surprised by how quickly he found everything. You moaned when he nibbled at your neck and shuddered when he kneaded your breast. You could barely return the favor as you ran your hands down his chest and over the sensitive gills causing him to gasp slightly and moan. However when you got too eager and moved your hands lower he pinned him above your head.

“No, not yet.” he said groaning slightly, he just wanted to take you, but he knew enough about humans to know they needed a little help to be prepared for sex.

You pouted and huffed, but respected his wishes and he let go. You leaned up and kissed him, but this time there was a thick mucus like substance. It tasted like kelp.

He chuckled, “Trust me darling you might not like the taste, but it’s going to make this process much easier and far more enjoyable for you. Now, since you’re about as clueless as I am on anatomy, please present yourself.”

You chuckled and nodded, “You’re sweet, Star.”

He just smiled down at you, “No, that would be you. You’ve been nothing, but kind to me since coming here.” he pushed himself back fully, examining you. This was rather different. So, many choices. What to play with first.

A cramp in his abdomen made his choice for him. There wasn’t anytime to experiment, this was getting painful for the merman. He needed to release his eggs and soon.

He gently rubbed two fingers over your folds causing your hips to buck up. You whimpered softly.

“O-okay, see the soft nub at top? That is a very sensitive place for us, and the middle hole? Thats our-”

“Mmm needn’t say anymore love.”

Before you knew it, your legs were over his shoulders and his long tongue was working you. The mucus made everything so warm that all you could do was moan as the pleasure became stronger.

When he nibbled and sucked at your clit you cried out in pleasure. Your hands reaching into his: medium length, black, wet hair. You pushed your hips into him. Guiding him as he asked what your liked. Of course, you hadn’t known at first due to inexperienced partners in the past, but oh boy you were beginning to find out.

“P-please just let me ride your tongue.” you moaned out softly.

“Mmm my pleasure dear.” he said and pushed what he could of his tongue into you. Salivating even more at your taste.

It formed more mucus that made your insides warm and seep in its own natural lubricants. And if that wasn’t enough when he started moving it, you felt like you were going to go right over the edge. Yet, no matter how much he teased you couldn’t. Even with the mucus causing your pleasure sensors to reach unbelievable heights.

When Star was satisfied he pulled away, he looked at how dazed you looked and then down at how soaked and engorged you were. Even your clit had enlarged before it had been barely visible, but now - it was triple in size and that’s what he had wanted. You whined spreading your legs more.

You were a little embarrassed, but heavens it felt wonderful and you trusted him not to belittle you for being so needy. He leaned over and bit your breast leaving some teeth marks, he sucked and gently pulled causing your back to arch.

“F-fuck Star!! Please…. Stop teasing.” you cried out.

He pulled away and licked up the blood. The mucus stopped the bleeding immediately. Good, he had no worries everything was compatible so far.

“Sweetheart, we can not do it like this, I will crush you.” he chuckled lifting your head.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and chuckled.

“How is it you can turn me into a goopy mess?” you smiled and kissed him, your core still aching.

“Mmm usually I ask that.” he said and looked around, he found a rock out of view, and gently took you to it. He carefully got onto it and then got you situated as well.


“H-heh so like this?” you asked, “M-makes sense since I can’t… nggh breath underwater.”

“Are you okay?” he asked a bit worried.

“I’m fine just… please…” you whimpered.

“First look down.” he cooed softly, he had been very good about hiding his arousal, but now some of it was peaking out, “You get to curb your curiosity.”

You scooted a little and looked down between you and smirked seeing it. So, it was fairly standard to most whales and dolphins. That made you less nervous. You hummed moving your hands down and rubbed around it looking up seeing his eyes were closed.You giggled and grinded on him and looked down seeing it fully emerge. It was hard to miss against his black scales. It was a flushed pink that matched his bioluminescence.

Your face flushed, oh he was large. No wonder he was worried. You snickered gently wrapping a hand around it, and felt all of the delicious ribs. The tip was thin and tapered which would make this a little bit easier, the base was slightly bulbous which confused you, but you rolled with it. You heard your mate moaning your name softly his pink bioluminescent features gently rolling in a soft soothing pattern.

You went a bit harder and faster, when his eyes shot open. You saw this look and stopped immediately. He grunted softly and sat up slightly pulling you into a kiss. You shuddered and kissed him back moaning when he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You felt his hands move you over him.

“Are you ready?” he purred softly, “Now remember if this is successful you may not be able to go back to a normal life. Nor can we break our bond.”

“I Understand love, just please, be gentle.” you said smiling.

“I love you.” he said and kissed you.

“I love you too.” you kissed him back, “I-i do have one request, could I maybe face the other way. You are a bit large so it will be easier.”

He nodded smiling, “Of course dear.”

He shifted you around carefully so your back was against his chest and his head rested on your shoulder before he gently lowered you onto him, his mucus and your own lubricants made the shift painless. And each little rib hit all the right places inside. You moaned out and leaned back slightly and began grinding into him. He did what he could, but you had to put out most of the work. Maybe one day they’d have a breathing apparatus you could use this would be much easier. For now this would have to do. You panted as you moved your hips, but you were wearing out rather quickly. It was then that you felt your mate’s hands come around your hips and begin lifting and plunging you onto him.

You leaned back onto his chest, arm slung back to stroke his cheek. Your breathing was becoming hard. You could feel your body coming so close. But, it was still so far and it was frustrating. Even with the rougher and faster pace your body was just not reaching.

“S-star please, I want to cum so badly.” you moaned.

He smirked, you were begging and it was kind of cute. A nice reversal as well, usually he was the one begging for attention. He hummed gently working himself deeper and deeper, the thin tip pressing pass the cervix he came to a grind not wanting to risk hurting you. He moved his hands around to spread your lips apart and rubbed at your engorged clit taking the large nub between his fingers giving you a mini handjob. If this was going to work, he needed to knot you during an orgasm so nothing spilled out. He grunted bumping into you faster his knot growing his fingers working your engorged clit more and more until.

“STAR!” you arched back and came clenching around him, barely even noticing the knot inside locking you into place until you tried to lift your hips and cried out again, you kept grinding into your mate setting off his own orgasm and moaned feeling the warm liquid seep into you. There was an unusual pressure however.

You glanced back at him, “L-love?”

He just kissed you gently, “Is it uncomfortable?”

“No, just odd…” you breathed whimpering it still felt oh so good, “How far are you in me?”

“Past your barriers darling.” he cooed moaning softly, gently grinding into you, “We’re not done yet.”

You were shocked by this, at least until you felt the knot expand even more, spreading you out. You felt little bumps in his shaft and it hit you what was happening. And now you knew exactly why he was concerned. However you were in too much pleasure to even care.

“Ahh.. fuck please fill me up.” you whimpered as he bit into your neck and thrusted only once and the eggs started moving into you. Every time one popped in you felt heavier and heavier. You noted his stomach flattened out as yours got bigger. You begged for more, but as soon as your womb was full, but not stretched too far that was all he had, he rammed into you bringing you to another orgasm as well as himself filling you up with more fluid to round out the small pooch you did have.

You cried out his name as he pulled away from your neck and licked it. Once he was down from his high he immediately tended to you.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” he asked rubbing a hand over your now obviously bloated abdomen.

You managed a nod as you felt his knot decreasing and him slipping out of you, which made you whine. You wanted more, “Mmm it feels so good still.”

He kissed your shoulder and gently rubbed your clit, it was still engorged, the mucus was almost washed off though perhaps he could bring you to another orgasm. “Patience love.” he hummed and rubbed at it, making sure to hit all the right places until you came again shaking against him.

He pulled away when you cooled off and just rubbed your abdomen, “Oh my my, you took the entire brood! Oh, they’re going to be so cute. Your dna mixed with mine.” he was just fawning over you now. He nuzzled your cheek and licked it, “I must get a bed put in here for you! Or a pool  in your place for me! I want to be there watching you grow as you carry my fry.”

Your face flushed as you leaned back onto him looking at your own abdomen you looked four to five months pregnant. “H-how big will they get?” you asked worried.

“Not very, they will fill up their egg, maybe double in size. You’ll lay them and then they’ll hatch!” he hummed, rubbing your abdomen.

“O-oh good… my body can handle that.” you chuckled smiling, you looked back at him, “You really think I look good like this?”

“You do.” he cooed kissing your lips, “Maybe next time there will be more!!”

“N-next time?” you asked.

“Mmm yes, once every five years we must somehow remove our brood whether it’s implanting or naturally disposing of them…” he hummed kissing your neck, “And please don’t stress, not many survive. It’s not like you’ll have dozens of babies. And not all mating cycles work… to be honest… if they are viable it’ll be my first time too.”

You actually felt kind of sad, but understood what he meant, you nodded, “I actually like this feeling…” you smiled and looked back at him, “I love you Star.”

“I love you too.” he said and shifted so he could kiss you deeply and tenderly.

The months passed by and you had been able to talk the aquarium into letting Star take Parental leave until the small merbabies were able to function well and were healthy enough to be in the now expanded aquarium tank with their father. He was sitting in the salt water pool making sure his aquascaping would be safe for them. He even made a small area just incase they needed more time to hatch. He was so excited. He hummed and looked at the ring on his finger. It was his idea, he wanted to marry you in the human way since you went through with what his kind did for mating for life. Luckily since he was able to prove his sentience easily you were able to find a priest willing to do the ritual.

He looked over to you as you just relaxed in the shallow end of the pool. You looked about eight months pregnant now. He swam over sensing something in the air change and pushed himself up so he could be sitting with you. It was almost time.

He had been doing some reading on human births and found your systems were very - unethical as he called it. The pain he read about scared him, so he had a plan. He kissed your neck and up to your cheek giggling.

“Star, what are you….” you winced feeling the pressure in your abdomen.

There it was, Star cooed, “It is time I could smell it!!” he said and kissed you, “Darling, come into the water.”

You obliged and gently waded in. Star managed to push himself up enough to hit a button that would close any open blinds. Then another that dimmed the lights in the pool. He let the overhead lights stay the way they were since they weren’t very bright currently. He swam back over seeing you were already starting the breathing exercises. He was working up that kelp flavored mucus. He was hoping to make this as painless on you as possible. He hummed kissing your cheek sloppily.

“Darling take off your bottoms. I have an idea.” he said gently trying to reassure you.

You nodded and took off your swim skirt and set it to the side. The labor pains weren’t as severe as they could have been, but still had you close to tears. You were relieved when Star told you about his plan and hoped it would work. This was too much and it wasn’t just one baby it was a brood of eggs.

You felt star rubbing at your lips and groaned, what was he trying to pull? You weren’t in the mood for this. You looked down at him and he just pulled your legs over his shoulders.

“S-star what are you?”

“If the mucus worked before maybe it’ll work here.” he said before plunging his tongue into you.

Now that made sense and you felt your sore body immediately take in his little quick fix and warm itself into pleasure. Oh, if this was how it was going to be everytime viable or not you wanted him to stuff you with his brood every time. Within five minutes you were moaning out his name. Your vagina, lips and clit engorged even more than before. He spent about ten or so minutes doing this until you were an absolute mess of pleasure. He noted how long it would take you to become near unresponsive for future reference.

But, now came the fun part. Star shifted so he would be able to help adjust your legs into a proper position. He even moved his hand between your legs to hold your lips apart as he would’ve done for a another mer partner. However he decided to help coerce the eggs out and gently rub your clit and lips.

While this seemed odd you were grateful. You’d rather be put into a stupor with pleasure than pain. And would have to do something for him later. You felt the eggs line up in your canal and soon it came time to push. Stars fingers did not relent on your engorged clit. However each wave of pleasure helped you push a jumbo chicken sized egg out and through your vaginal canal into the water. Luckily they were rather spongy so they were able to gently and carefully fall to the bottom of the pool.

Stars little plan was working. It was making this process painless and much quicker than it would have been otherwise. He never let you come to orgasm. He mentioned something about saving that for the last few difficult ones, but you were to busy focusing on the pleasure and process of laying the eggs to really pay much mind. When you were nearing your ends he felt of your abdomen. Just as he thought. There were a few stragglers. However that just meant you’d get to enjoy yourself to the fullest.

“Almost done love, you can do this.” he cooed and kissed you nipping at your lips and neck before his hand moved from your vaginal lips to your two inch clit.

This caused you to scream in pleasure as your hips moved in time with his movements helping the trouble maker eggs line into your canal in a large bunch. He was rather rough with you causing your orgasm to be so powerful you squirted and the very last few eggs came out in one go.

He cooed softly and slowed everything to a stop and came up and laid your head in his lap. He stroked your wet hair, pink eyes looking down at your filled with absolute adoration that you could birth so many. He looked out at the pool and noted sadly; that a good 80% of the brood was unviable. They were floating a top, but that was alright. He would clean the mess later and more closely examine the others and cull the ones with any imperfections or the ones who wouldn’t survive.

He looked back down at you, your breathes heavy from the amount of work you just went through. You gently shifted so you could lay against his chest. Body now numb from everything you did. You looked up at him with tired eyes and smiled.

“Thank you, that little plan of yours helped so much. Mmmm and felt heavenly if I do say so myself. I could get used to this~” you said with a worn voice.

He chuckled and kissed you gently, rubbing your back, “You did good. I will be transporting them to their little place soon love. For now you need rest.” he said and smiled helping you get back into your swim skirt, “Not here though, I can’t risk you drowning.” he cooed. “I love you.”

“I love you to.” you said.

Carefully stood up and kissed him one last time before heading to your room. You had no idea what to expect when you woke up, you only knew that you were happy. You fell onto your bed not caring you were sopping went and fell asleep. You loved your merman husband and little soon to be children very much. And it was hard to believe it was all because of an assignment.

Art by: http://artistic-alpaca-afterdark.tumblr.com

Sleeping Over

Combined request from two anon readers for a Jax x Reader using the following prompts:

#18 - “You’re warm, s'great for cuddling.“

#36 - “Woah, I never knew you had a tattoo!”

Originally posted by marip0sadahlia

Throwing yourself down on the couch, you yawn, the episodes of today wearing you out.

Pretty much all day you’d been helping Jax redecorate the house, him deciding he wanted a fresh start combined with the fact that Abel was dying for a race car bed, so why not just give him a whole new room?

You’re probably the strongest mother figure that Abel has, although yours and Jax’s relationship is only platonic. Of course, you’d love it to be more than that, but you’re not one to push, and Jax has been through more than enough these past few months.

The man himself appears from the hallway, smirking at you before lifting your legs up and sitting down on the couch, your limbs being draped across him. “Look at you, all worn out.”

“I have been helping you since eight this morning.” you remind him, your eyes flickering to the clock on the wall. “I’d say fourteen hours of work is more than long enough to tire anybody out.”

Jax whistles lowly, his head lolling back as he looks up at the ceiling, his hands moving soothingly up and down your legs. “I guess time flies when you’re having fun, babe.”

“Easy for you to say. I’m pretty sure half of your paint went in my hair.” Jax chuckles in response, your fingers pulling at the knotted strands that are splattered with blue pigment. “I should be going anyway.”

“Or, you could stay.” Jax suggests, your cheeks tickling pink as he turns on his pleading eyes and his charming smile. Pretending to think about it for a minute, you roll your eyes, nodding in acceptance.

“Guess it makes more sense, probably easier for you to put me through more slave labour if I stay the night.” Jax smiles at you, the sight seemingly more beautiful everytime you see it. “Is it alright if I take a quick shower?”

“Sure. We could take one together, you know, save water and all that.” he says, a smirk on your lips. Sitting up, you move your legs from his lap, tapping his cheek twice before standing.

“Keep dreaming, big boy.”

You walk through to the bedroom from the bathroom, humming a random tune as the smell of Jax covers you, the combination of his shower gel and his clothes that you’re currently wearing making you smell nothing but him. Moving to the mirror, you adjust the waistband of Jax’s sweatpants, running your fingers over the inked writing on your hip.

“Woah, never knew you had a tattoo.” You almost jump out of you skin as Jax speaks from the doorway, a smirk on his lips as you look over your shoulder.

“What can I say? I’m full of surprises.“ He shakes his head and smiles before stepping back and heading into the bathroom. “You still sleeping on the right side?”

The toilet flushes, followed by the running of the tap, before Jax reappears in the bedroom. “Yeah. Surprised you still remember.”

“Of course I do, I used to stop here all the time before you started being a dirty stop out.“ You tease, your heart clenching at the idea of Jax sleeping with other women. Many other women.

“Jealousy suits you, babe. You mind?“ he asks, gesturing to his shirt. You shake your head, trying to contain the flush that’s definitely crawling up your face as his toned physic comes into view. However, the knowing look in his eyes makes you think he’s already aware of the effect he has on you.

The two of you pull up the covers, slipping inside the sheets. For some people, sharing a bed with a male friend would be awkward, but for you and Jax, it was comfortable, normal.

Once he’s turned out the lights, Jax settles into the bed, the two of you facing one another, a barely there gap between your faces. “Thanks for today. Sometimes I wonder where I’d be without you.”

You smile within the moonlit room, Jax’s expression changing to a slightly more troubled one. The struggle and hurt is heavy within his eyes, the man in front of you having seen a lot more shit than most.

“Probably dead.” you deadpan, attempting to lighten the mood. You pat yourself on the back mentally when it works, Jax’s pink lips tugging up slightly. Rolling his eyes he turns onto his back, lifting his arm up and silently inviting you into him.

You comply - obviously - shifting to rest your head on his chest, his arm closing around you as you rest your palm on his chest. He sighs, content with your position, something about you just calming him like nothing else could.

“You’re warm. S'great for cuddling.” you whisper, Jax trailing his fingertips up and down your arm as you close your eyes, the melodic sound of his steady heart beat acting as your lullaby. He hums in response, a gentle kiss being placed on the top of your head.

“Abel loves having you around, you know.” Butterflies swarm your stomach at Jax’s words, your ears open and listening, your mouth not sure what to say. “So do I. Just feels right, like everything isn’t completely shit.”

“I like being here, feels like home.” you admit, placing a small, experimental kiss on Jax’s chest, his grip on your arm tightening encouragingly. Grinning to yourself, you wrap your arm around his torso, part of you wanting to see if anything progresses tomorrow and the other half wanting to stay here forever. “Goodnight, J.”

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” Jax says, holding you close within his arms, the two of you drifting into the best sleep you’ve had in ages.

A/N - Hope you liked this!! I wish I had me a Jax Teller 😭 maybe without the cheating😂 Check out my masterlist if you’re new, I write mainly SOA but also some SPN! Tomorrow’s imagine will be a Chibs x Reader! ❤

wither me down

Summary: It’s strange, how Otabek doesn’t mind that his lungs are filled with flowers and each day is more agonizing than the last. After all, loving Yuri Plisetsky is a privilege in and of itself. (belated happy valentine’s day! warning for character death, otayuri, hanahaki au, word count: 6166)



He first meets Yuri when he is twelve, almost thirteen. He is hunched over, heaving from the strenuous exercise that Yakov made them do, and he looks up to try again when he sees him. He must be ten at the oldest, and is without a doubt the best student in that room. Otabek never pays much attention to the other students, but this time he looks at this boy, who manages to complete the exercise he’s been struggling with effortlessly.

And then the boy’s head turned to look at his direction, and he is captivated.

Keep reading

the posh boy problem

you are at part one.

part two: the posh boy solution

also available on: AO3

***

Posh boy left his mug on the papers again. It will leave a rim on the sports section.

John goes over to the living room table. Then he stops in his tracks. It’s happened again, hasn’t it? More and more often he finds himself giving Sherlock silly petnames in his head. He was never a friend of those, can hardly explain why he is doing it now – in his own thoughts – but something about it calms and provokes him at the same time. He picks up the half-emptied mug of cold tea and thinks this over on his walk to the kitchen sink.

He likes Sherlock. He knows this, has known this for literally ages. That he likes him, and that he likes him in a way that Sherlock most definitely won’t find appealing. Sexually. There, he said it. In his head, of course, never out loud. But Sherlock, with his many frustrating qualities, of which many where outrageously attractive to John, is practically forcing him to feel provoked. Those feelings then lead to … petnames, apparently. He’s had stranger coping mechanisms before.

In his head greets him with hey, handsome in the morning, those wonderful mornings where Sherlock has actually slept and still looks all soft and not quite awake. He calls him genius when he is being too clever again and doesn’t notice, calls him pretty man and silly git and sweetheart when he’s feeling like it, and, of course, posh boy. He doesn’t even know what it is about that one in particular, but he finds that to be the worst. For his sexual frustration, that is. Every time it comes up in his head, which is more and more often, it fuels his imagination vividly. So much that it has even made it to his bedroom and he has dreams, half-asleep, half-awake, about teaching posh boy a lesson, getting posh boy a little dirty, treating posh boy a little rough. These are all terrible thoughts. Because they will stay just as imaginary and sexually frustrating. Posh boy won’t love him back, after all.

One morning Sherlock sits in front of his microscope on the kitchen table. He hasn’t moved for at least two hours. Nothing unusual. In fact, it was how they spend most of their Sundays now. John doesn’t really date anymore, and even if he did, he would not trade these days for anything. They have fallen into this pattern a while ago, the pattern of staying in on lazy Sundays, waking up later and waiting for the other to have breakfast together. Now Sherlock occupies himself with some experiment on maggots and fingers (John doesn’t even ask) and John is sitting in his chair. He is reading a novel about an incredibly clever and cunning explorer who kind of reminds him of Sherlock (he can’t help it, as much as he would like to). Being absorbed in the book, he is confused at first when Sherlock calls him from the kitchen.

“John?”

“Hmh?”

With Sherlock this is either going to be of highest importance or an absurdly unnecessary request.

“Care to pass me my phone?”

John sighs loudly. The latter. Thought so.

“Where is your phone?”

“Breast pocket.”

With his eyes rolling at the ceiling John puts a bookmark in his book, places it on the table next to him and gets off his chair. Walking into the kitchen, he murmurs under his breath.

“I see posh boy’s being a lazy butthead again…”

He takes the phone out of Sherlock’s breast pocket and holds it out for him. But instead of taking it and paying no more attention to him, Sherlock is suddenly staring at him like his face was on fire. John frowns at him. Sherlock, in turn, raises one brow.

“Posh?”

John’s eyes widen in shock and his heart jumps once in his chest and then stops, he thinks, just stops, and he wants to melt and become one with the floorboards. This is bad.

“I’m not posh,” Sherlock complains.

He must notice how John is only blushing more deeply. How? How did he say that out loud without noticing? How the bloody hell could he?

John clears his throat and decides to go along with it. There is no more turning back from here on anyway.

“You… are, actually. Just look at you, you with your… cheekbones. Your… perfectly tailored suits, your annoying British accent and deep voice-”

“We all have British accents.”

“I know!” John is enormously embarrassed, and he feels that if he doesn’t take a long walk right now, he will punch something to calm his inner unsettlement. “I need air.”

But Sherlock isn’t finished. “If anything, you are the posh one, John.”

“Hah! How so, Sherlock Holmes? Have you looked at yourself?”

“Have you looked around this flat in the past years? There are piles of magazines in the corners of every room, there is a Cluedo board pinned to the wall by me, I leave my things wherever I please, the kitchen is a mess of syringes and human body parts – an organised and well structured mess if you know where to look, but not the point right now – and I am currently examining maggots. In contrast to this you, John Watson, are a doctor, you wear your chequered shirts buttoned up to your chin, you’ve lived a clean life not suffering from a drug addiction, have had girlfriends and relationships and altogether live as part of the middle-class society in Central London. You wish for a wife and children and probably a German Shepard and a house in the suburbs, or at least that’s what you think you want, so tell me, John: How am I the posh one?”

John has a hard time finding a response to this that doesn’t only consist of loose vowels. It takes him a good minute, but Sherlock is oddly patient with him.

“First of all,” he manages then, “ I don’t think I want a wife and children, thank you very much. And maybe… maybe I’m not that serious when I call you things like that.”

“So why do you?”

“What?” John’s heart began beating faster once more. He’s so tense.

“Why do you call me a posh… boy?”

Oh fuck, hearing those two words spoken out loud and together and out of Sherlock’s mouth, for God’s sake!

“I- I don’t. Why- why should I even tell you? You read my mind all the time, can I not be allowed to keep this one thing to myself for once?!”

Sherlock narrows his eyes and observes him from head to toe. Oh please no. “No, that’s not it.”

“Alright, you know what? It’s you. Okay? It’s your fault! You just make me so angry all the time. No, don’t- don’t look at me like that.”

Sherlock’s eyes have gone wide and very blue. He looks genuinely hurt by this. Scared even. Scared at what John would say next, what this would mean for them. John feels and shares his pain, and he hates himself for every word he has ever said that would make Sherlock look like this. He is vulnerable and human, after all. Even if he tries to convince everyone around him that he isn’t, John has to stop falling for Sherlock’s own defence mechanism.

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… what you said. There’s no wife and there is no house in the suburbs for me, Sherlock. I just can’t see it. But I see this.” He means Baker Street, means 221B, means … Sherlock. “This life. With you.”

Sherlock’s eyes are still so very blue. He wants to lose himself in them.

“And that makes you angry?” Sherlock asks.

“What? No. I’m just. Forget it.”

John finally has the courage to turn around and go, or maybe he lacks the courage to face him and stay, but either way he walks back into the sitting room, prepared to put on his jacket and leave the house for at least two hours. Sherlock jumps up and follows him.

“John! Wait. We never say what we want to say.”

John swirls around, his mouth a thin line of held back emotions. He stands close to the door. Ready to flee. “And what do you wanna say?”

Sherlock takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, there is courage in the one and fear in the other.

“Me too.”

“Sorry?”

“Me too. I see this, too. Us. This life we share.”

John bites the insides of his mouth because his whole skin feels hot with disbelief and wonder and hope, oh god, so much hope that he doesn’t let himself own.

“What?” he asks instead, going for a weak smile, “You don’t see yourself with a wife and children?”

Sherlock huffs a laugh. “No. Weirdly I don’t.”

They smile at each other.

“So ‘posh boy’,” Sherlock says after a while, “is actually about…?”

“Me being an ungrateful moron? Me never saying what I should say before it’s too late? Me trying to get my anger at all of this under control? Yes. Yes, I suppose it is.”

Sherlock looks down at the spot between his feet. He’s thinking. But not as he usually is, not fast and calculating and mechanical. He’s thinking about the right thing to do. The things he has always wanted to do, but never thought it to be right or appropriate or good for them.

“I can wait for you to figure this out.”

“Wait for me?”

“As long as you need, John. We both agreed, didn’t we? Both of us don’t plan on leaving or getting married and reproduce anytime soon, so.”

“You don’t like waiting,” John points out, but he is already incredibly relieved and impressed by Sherlock’s words.

“No, I don’t. But I like you.”

John doesn’t flee to take an hour-long walk that day. He would never trade a lazy Sunday with Sherlock Holmes, after all. Sherlock continues with his experiment, and John reads. Later they watch telly together and Sherlock yells at the incompetent game show host on BBC One. He said he could wait till John figures this out, whatever this is. But maybe they both don’t have to wait that long. Maybe, just maybe, posh boy could actually love him back.

…to be continued…

@just–elope

All Too Well | Pt. 8

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

Summary: You and Yoongi shared a loving relationship with one another until you both agreed to end things and pursue your separate careers. But two years later, Yoongi is a member of the ever growing Bangtan Boys, and you are a new makeup artist for their upcoming tour.
Pairing: Yoongi | Reader
Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut; Idol & Makeup Artist AU
Word Count: 6,330

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“Have you talked to Y/N recently?”

Jeon Jungkook flickers his gaze over to the speaker, having only caught the faint murmur of a voice through his headphones, before the maknae tugs the equipment off of his head. “Sorry, what did you say hyung?”

Yoongi sighs, shutting his laptop completely and silently beckoning the other boy to follow suit. He has been battling this internal question for the past few hours, in spite of its simplicity, but it’s the context behind the question that has Yoongi all worried about what the answer could lead to. He has always been told not to ask questions he did not wish to know the answer to, and yet here he was: asking something in which the response was likely to terrify him. Yet, still doing so anyways.

“Have you talked to Y/N recently?” He repeats, heart ramming out of his chest as he gauges the youngest for any shift in expression to indicate an answer. But Jungkook is no longer that shy 15 year old who couldn’t lie to anyone’s face, the boy hides his emotions well. “I know that you guys… are friends.”

Jungkook momentarily can’t meet Yoongi’s gaze—the youngest looks set on tracing the outline of the headphones that rest along his neck—before he finally looks up. “Are you trying to ask if I know about what happened between you and noona? Because I do.”

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I Hate Christmas - Sherlock x (y/n)

Word count: 1784

Warnings: none

“Sherlock!” Mrs. Hudson called from downstairs. “It’s (y/n)!”

Sherlock hurried down the stairs as quickly as he could. “Ah, (y/n). Finally. John and Mary are preparing dinner upstairs and I’ll be heading out for a bit.”

“Sherlock!” You said, exasperated. “You promised you’d stay. Even if you had a case. It’s Christmas for Christ’s sake.”

“I hate Christmas.” He said with a sneer. “It brings about carolers and holiday cheer.”

“Oh, Sherlock. Promise me you’ll still come home for dinner and presents.”

“Food is for the weak and I told everyone not to get me anything. I also did not get anything for anyone else…” He said trailing off.

“Sherlock…”

“Fine. I promise I’ll be home for dinner and presents.” He said rolling his eyes. “Even if I don’t eat and I don’t have presents.”

“Good boy.” You said smiling brightly. You bounced into the building away from the cold, chilling air of London. Sherlock moved past you and into the freezing air.

“I’m not a boy (y/n). I’m a man. A very smart one at that.” He said quickly, as if in a rush, which to be honest he probably was. He then briskly walked away. Mrs. Hudson gave you a sad smile.

“Sorry about him dear. That’s Sherlock though. Always dashing about. Anyhow, might you come up for a spot of tea? John and Mary’s food smells so delicious.”

You smiled kindly at her, “Of course, Mrs. Hudson. Thank you.”

Time Skip

“Mrs. Hudson!” Sherlock’s loud voice rang from downstairs. “I’m back for Christmas dinner.” He said in a disgusted tone you could tell he wasn’t really trying to hide. He walked upstairs quickly, taking the steps two at a time. He walked past you hastily, using his coat to conceal something that he was carrying. “Mrs. Hudson, John, (y/n) don’t wait up. I’ll be in my room wrapping things up. I’ll be back in a wink.” He said winking at you. You blushed profusely. Trying to cover it up, you said, “Shall we start eating?”

“Of course.” John said with a happy smile.

“Mary, the pie looks delicious.” You said to her.

“Oh, I didn’t make it. John did. He’s a great baker.” She said bragging slightly about her wonderful husband.

“Well then John, it looks simply divine.” You said excited to dig in to the wonderful looking food.

Time Skip – After Dinner

“Oh, the meal was so scrumptious.” Mrs. Hudson commented, a little bit sleepy from the meal.

“It was.” You said, a bit sleepy yourself. “It was too bad Sherlock didn’t eat anything.” You said clearing the last of the plates from the table. As if on cue Sherlock emerged from his room.

“Time for presents.” He said lazily, as if bored with the whole affair and idea of Christmas. Little did you know, inside he was having a silent panic attack. He secretly slipped something under the tree.

“Ok.” You said giddily, smiling like a child. “I’m excited to see what you got me Mr. Holmes.” You said nudging him in the side.

“Nothing.” He responded. “I told you earlier that I didn’t get anyone anything.”

You looked down, slightly saddened by this sentence. Your Christmas cheer was being ruined by Sherlock.

“You know you don’t have to be such a spoilsport.”

“I actually do.”

“Why, Sherlock?”

“The idea of buying people presents gives some people anxiety. Anxiety about not getting the right thing. In fact, it is scientifically proven that people have more stress around the holidays.” He said with a completely straight face.

“Really Sherlock? You don’t buy people presents because you’re afraid you’ll get the wrong thing?”

“That is what I said, yes.” He said rolling his eyes.

“Sherlock… We’re your friends. We’ll be happy with anything you give us.”

“Really?” He said raising an eyebrow. “Last Christmas John said he loved my gift. He lied. I read his body language. He was not at all pleased with my gift. I was given a mental talent for reading people and it is a blessing and a curse. Let me ask you something, (y/n). Do you sometimes wish I were a normal person? That I’m unable to read people like a book?”

Without missing a heartbeat, you answered his question honestly, “No. You are perfect. If you weren’t the way you were you would never have met me. You never would have been ‘The Great Sherlock Holmes’, and I never would have come to you with my case.”

He clasped his hands together, thinking deeply. “Hmm… You’re right.”

“As I always am.” You said.

“Not always.” He corrected quickly.

You laughed. John and Mary came out of the kitchen. “What’s so funny?” John asked.

“Nothing, nothing.” You said. “Let’s go. I can’t possibly wait any longer. I can feel the presents calling to me.”

“Presents don’t talk.” Sherlock mentioned quietly.

“They do in my mind palace.” You said, teasing him.

He sighed tiredly, “Let’s just get on with the presents.”

John cleared his throat. “Ok then. Let’s see, first present.” He picked up a box with green wrapping. He said out loud, “For Mary and John, from (y/n).” You smiled as they unwrapped it together. They pulled out a small onesie.

“It’s for the baby.” You said smiling brightly. “Do you guys like it?”

Mary turned to you. “Oh, (y/n). We love it!” She came over to hug you.

John said, “Thank you (y/n). It’s a wonderful gift.”

You picked the next box. “For Sherlock, from John and Mary.” You smiled at the couple as you unwrapped the present for Sherlock. You pulled out a hat. You laughed. Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked at the hat in disgust. You smiled at Mary, “Thanks guys.” You looked at John and mouthed, “I’ll make him wear it.” The next present was for Mrs. Hudson, from John and Mary. It was a nice pink shawl. John and Mary had given you a nice coat that matched Sherlock’s. The presents from John and Mary were all wonderful. Next, it was your turn to give everyone presents. You had already given John and Mary their present so you gave Mrs. Hudson hers. Sher pulled out a blouse, a skirt, and a pair of heels all matching the same royal blue color. “Thank you, dear.” She said smiling at you.

“Of course, Mrs. Hudson.” You said, matching her smile. Then you handed Sherlock his present. He opened it and was surprised to see a brand new blue scarf.

“Thank you very much, (y/n).” He said looking over at you.

You smiled at him, “Anything for you, Sherlock.”

Mrs. Hudson seemed to be ready to bounce out of her seat. Sher quickly handed everyone their presents. Your gift was a nice jumper. “Mrs. Hudson, did you knit this all by yourself?” You inquired.

“Yes I did.” She said quite proudly. Sherlock’s was a fancy suit.

“Mrs. Hudson, where did you get this?” He asked.

“Oh, it was from a real fancy shop. I know you have a lot of suits, but this one just seemed to pop to me. It would look perfect on you. I mean you have all black suits; you never wear blue. I thought it would look real nice on you.”

“Thank you. I like it.” He said cautiously, as if his words might offend her. Everyone looked around. There were no more presents to be opened. Everyone looked expectantly at Sherlock. They didn’t seem surprised, however. They soon all packed up and left, save for Mrs. Hudson, who had gone upstairs. You started to clean up the trash on the ground from the presents. Sherlock watched you carefully, studying you. You had finished clearing all of the wrapping paper from around the tree when a little twinkle from under the tree caught your eye. You reached a hand under the tree and felt a box. You pulled it out. It was a small box covered with shiny silver wrapping paper. Carefully you turned it over, ‘To my dear (y/n), from your Sherlock,’ it said in fancy writing on the wrapping paper. You turned to Sherlock and he gave you a smile. “I didn’t want you to open it in front of everyone.” He said smirking at your surprised face.

“Here, I thought you were a pompous jackass who was too good to get anyone anything.” You commented, joking lightly. Sherlock only rolled his eyes.

“Open it.” He said. “Before I change my mind and return it.”

“Now I know what you meant when you said you were in your room, ‘wrapping things up’. You meant it literally, that you actually were ‘wrapping something up’. Gosh, you are clever.”

“I know.” He said, sarcastically. “Now open it.”

You excitedly ripped off the wrapping paper. Inside was a black square velvet box. You gasped in surprise. It was from Tiffany’s. You traced your fingers along the velvet on the outside of the box. “What is it?” You asked Sherlock, looking over at him. He only smiled mysteriously.

“Open it and see.”

You opened the box to see the diamond necklace you had been drooling over for a long time every time you passed the window of Tiffany’s. “Sherlock! You didn’t have to get me this.”

“I actually did. Did you think I wouldn’t notice how every day when we walked past the store you looked longingly and lovingly at this necklace. I read John, I can read you too.”

“Sherlock! This is just too much. I-I” You were at a loss for words. You looked down at the box and noticed there was another, much smaller, box inside. You picked it up. “Sherlock… What’s this?”

He stayed silent. So you took the box carefully in your hands and opened it up. Inside was a beautiful diamond ring. You gasped. “Oh my. Oh my gosh.” You looked up at Sherlock. He smiled mysteriously.

“I see no need to get on one knee and all so I’ll just say it. Will you (y/n) (y/l/n) the most beautiful and clever and kind and funny person I have ever met and also my favorite human being in this entire wretched world, agree to be my wife?”

“Yes, Sherlock. Yes of course I’ll be your wife.” You stood up to hug him and as you hugged you noticed a small green plant hanging on top of Sherlock’s head. You smiled. As you pulled apart from the hug you pecked Sherlock on the lips.

“What was that for?” He questioned.

“Tradition.” You responded with a smirk.

“I hate tradition.”

“Is there anything you don’t hate?”

“I don’t hate you.”

You smiled softly. “Hey, don’t get soft on me now Mr. Holmes.”

“I won’t Mrs. Holmes.”

The End

Say Hello to Tim Drake

AN: I decided to start Valentine’s Day off with some soulmark AU love. I really like how relateable this reader is. I think that’s a draw. 

Words: 826

Part 1


    You wish you could see his eyes. You can’t help but feel as though they would tell you something; is he disappointed, excited, nervous? You pray that he isn’t disappointed. You can’t help but feel as though you’re plain looking, you’re not ugly, but not exactly pretty. Then there’s the anxiety. As your mind begins to go through all the possibilities, you can feel yourself getting worked up, as your breathing begins to quicken, until suddenly you’re in his arms.

    He’s sat down on the pavement, and pulled you into his lap. He’s cradling you gently, so that you don’t feel closed in; and from the way his arms wrap around you, the way they stay lax and still give you room,  you can tell he’s been where you are. As the adrenaline fades, you allow the first few sniffles to come, as your breathing begins to slow down and return to normal.

His hand rubs your back, and that’s the first telltale sign for you. You don’t like people touching your back. It creeps you out, makes you squeal, and it’s just genuinely unpleasant. But with him, it feels good, relaxing almost. As you pull back, you wipe at your eyes and then wince.

He notices, “You scraped your hands when you fell.” His voice sounds tired, but it’s smooth. Determined.

“Yeah, not my most graceful moment.”

He gives you a small smile, “Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of falls a lot worse than that.”

You smile at each other in awkward silence, until he sticks out his hand and says, “Hi, I’m Red Robin, your soulmate, apparently.”

You take his hand a bit nervously and shake it once, before saying, “I’m Y/N, college student.”

He smiles, before letting go of your hand and pulling up the sleeve of his suit, you stare at your words there, before reaching out and allowing your fingers to skim over them. Then you realize what you’re doing and quickly pull back your hand, as the heat rises to your cheeks.

His fingers grip your chin and turn your gaze towards him, “I wanted you to see them. That way when we meet in real life, you know it’s me.” You stare at him, and you fear the faint sound of police sirens. “Someone must have called the cops. It’s not safe for me to reveal everything here in the open.” You nod, a bit dumbly, He smiles again, “I’ll find you in a few days, and then we can meet for real. I’ll explain everything then.”

Then with one last look, he’s gone, and the cops rush over. It’s a long night of filling out police reports before being escorted back to your dorm. The mortification you feel as everyone stares at you is enough to have you buried under your covers for the next twenty-four hours.

You sleep, skip class, and do your absolute best to not think about the fact that Red Robin is your soulmate, or wonder how exactly he’s going to find you. You fail miserably at the last two. In fact, by the time the twenty-four hours are over, you’ve convinced yourself that he wants nothing to do with you, and that you’re going to die old and alone with three cats.

At some point, you decide you need to move on. So you drag yourself out of bed, and to the dining hall. You load up on stuff that you KNOW isn’t good for you before making the trek to class.You do your best to focus on your professors, while trying not to dwell on the amount of work you’ll have to get done this weekend. By the time the day is over, you’re feeling more exhausted than you should.  

In fact, you’re so exhausted that you nearly miss the gaggle of girls whispering. You peer around them to see what they’re staring at. It’s a good looking boy. He’s dressed in jeans and a long sleeve tee-shirt. He’s working on a laptop, and has a large cup of coffee with him.

Then, as though he feels you staring, he looks up and makes eye contact. When he smiles you look away, and do your best to shuffle further into the dorm past the front desk, when all of a sudden you hear him say your name, “Y/N wait a minute.”

You don’t want to, but you do, without meeting his eyes, you turn to face him. He stops in front of you, and you can feel the gaggle of girls looking at the two of you, “I’m Tim Drake, we met the other night.”

You stare at him puzzled, until his scrunches both sleeves of his tee-shirt up, in the most nonchalant way you’ve ever seen, to reveal the same words, your words, from the other night. You stare at him for a minute and he only say grins and says, “Told you I’d find you.” 

bring me home in a blinding dream

title from ‘castle of glass’ by linkin park. another of those fake dating aus because apparently they’re the source of my life.


She was going to kill Mary Margaret.

It’s one thing being set up on a blind date. Emma had suffered through enough of those; her sister-in-law kindly believes that there’s a soulmate out there for everyone, and the way to find them is through chance encounters. Emma gets plenty of chance encounters. Nothing like being a bail bondswoman to introduce you to a lot of men.

(She had pointed that out to Mary Margaret the day before. Her sister-in-law had frowned, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Yes, you definitely want to spend the rest of your life with a criminal who you caught while wearing four-inch stilettos. No, you’re going out to dinner with a friend of a friend of a friend that I heard was recently single. Tomorrow night. At seven. Be prepared.” She had then kissed Emma on the cheek, pushed her toward the couch, and had left Emma’s apartment without so much as a chipper “bye!”)

It’s quite another thing being stood up on a blind date.

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