if its yours and you want it taken down let me know

The day after the battle, Hermione Granger got up before the sun did. The Lake was covered in fog, and she was used to having somewhere urgent to go, to be, to fight. 

She closed the tent flap up behind her. Hogwarts had something like enough beds, but Hermione hadn’t had it in her to climb those moving staircases, to step through the painting’s open frame and make her way to the Gryffindor girls’ seventh year dormitory. Her bed would have been there, months untouched except for the bras and scarves and bottles of sparkly purple nail polish Parvati and Lavender had strewn onto every open surface. 

The fog rolled in off the Lake and Hermione stood at the damp shore and shivered until the sun rose and burned it all away. 


-


The day after the battle, they buried their dead out on an island in the Lake, the day after the battle. Madame Pomfrey fretted and hovered, but every injured witch, wizard, and squib made it out to those conjured chairs. They might sit with assistance– with spells, with braces, with a friend’s shoulder– but they sat quiet and they listened to Flitwick read out the names. 


-


The day after the battle, Ron Weasley stood on tiptoe when he stepped back into the Great Hall, looking over a sea of bent heads to find a cluster of red. They’d brought the tables back. 

The cluster was only a tiny blip of three– Bill and their parents were flitting about, helping Flitwick float steaming bowls of pasta down onto each table. But Ginny and Percy were sitting on either side of George, keeping up a lively conversation about Gilderoy Lockhart’s hair. 

Ginny was sitting half in Harry’s lap, like if she didn’t he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from getting up to help, or to pace the castle, or to walk out to the Forest and not come back. She was holding his hand, her freckled thumb running over the words written into his skin. 

Ron thought about sitting with Luna, instead. Percy tried to laugh at one of Ginny’s jokes, and Ron didn’t know how to be kind like that. Ginny held Harry’s hand. Ron had thought for a long terrible stretch of heartbeats that he had lost two brothers yesterday. 

He could sit with Dean. He could walk out to the Forest and punch Aragog in his ugly eyes, because normally when he walked away from everyone he loved it was because he was scared and maybe change was good for the soul. 

Ron pushed his hands through his hair. He crossed the Great Hall, swung into a seat next to Harry, and filled his plate with lukewarm pasta. 


-


The day after the battle, Luna Lovegood climbed up to the Astronomy Tower, because it was the furthest she could get away from everything. She laid on her back on the cold stone and cast balls of light and enchanted birds to chase each other across the ceiling until she felt like descending down to the ground again. 


-


The day after the battle, Neville Longbottom went down to the greenhouses to see what the damage was there. He had sat all night and all morning in the infirmary, fetching water for Anthony Goldstein and holding Dennis Creevey’s hand and folding extra blankets down over Professor Sprout’s cold feet. Madame Pomfrey had banished him to go get a spot to eat and some sleep, so he walked down to the greenhouses to see what was salvageable. 

Whole panes of greenish glass stood jagged and shattered. Protective spells had put out any fires, but stray blasts of magic had killed beds of vegetables and flowers and taken almost all the silver-green leaves off an olive tree that twisted in the corner of Greenhouse 4. 

Neville went in through the door, even though there as a broken hole in the glass wall big enough for him, and almost fell back through it when Hannah Abbott stood up from the row of pots she’d been crouching behind. Dirt streaked every crease of her hands. “Hey,” he said, and let the door click shut behind him. 

“Hey.” When she saw where he was heading, she added, “The olive’s still alive.”

The bark was rough under his hand, gnarled from decades of slow growth. He could hear the green magic whispering down its xylem. 

“I was thinking I’d try to mend up the walls, close this place up again,” said Hannah. “But I wasn’t sure I could do it alone." 

"Alright,” said Neville. When Professor Sprout argued her way out of the infirmary and thumped downhill with the wind throwing her cloudy hair in her face, she found every pane of glass healed and Neville and Hannah asleep on the softest patch of moss in Greenhouse 2.  


-


The day after the battle, Parvati Patil sent an owl to Lavender Brown’s parents. 


-


The day after the end of it all, Hermione skipped lunch and found her favorite secluded corner of the library instead. The chairs stood silent and sober, all gouged dark wood. The high windows threw light gleaming across the polished table, catching on the dust motes drifting through the air above it. 

She dumped her carry-all down on it and reached inside– up to her elbows, her shoulders. She tried not to feel like it was eating her alive and she pulled out protein bars and unicorn horn and crumpled wanted flyers. 

She wasn’t sure when it had gotten so cluttered– sometime before the night in the ditch outside the little Scottish village with the awesome curry shop. Sometime after the time they hid out from a storm in an unknowing Muggle’s barn, wrinkling their noses at the itch of hay as they ate their dinner. Hermione had taken first watch, listening to the thunder roll over the shallow hills outside, and she’d gone through her bag pouch by endless pouch. Harry had twitched in his sleep with every flash of lightning, but everything in her bag had been where it was supposed to be. 

She summoned a wastepaper bin to hover beside her and got to work. Quills and ballpoint pens went in a neat heap to her left. Books she stacked by subject matter around her, except for the ones she flew back to their homes on Hogwarts shelves. She checked potions ingredients for decay, tossed the bad ones and wrapped the good ones back up in their oiled cloth and ziplock bags. 

She ate a protein bar while she piled duct tape and the radio and a travel-sized magnetic foldable Muggle chess set and a depleted first aid kit all up around her. She threw the wrapper away and wondered if the smell would ever come out of the bag’s insides, or if she should just buy another one.  


-


The day after the battle, they started putting the stones of the castle back into place. They put bones back together, first, skin and knit muscle and tendons. McGonagall escorted every statue and suit of armor back to where it belonged. 

Sue Li sat atop a pile of rubble and ate the biggest chocolate bar she’d ever seen her life. She thought she could still taste a film of Polyjuice on her tongue, but she told herself that was dumb. She dropped little pebbles down the ragged tumble of stones, counting their bounces and calculating averages, until Astoria Greengrass showed up with a glass of water and a pasty and put them down beside her. 

Astoria got her hands dirty every chance she got, put her back into sweeping up glass shards or hauling bandages or Wingardium Leviosa-ing stone blocks the size of a horseless carriage. She would stay in the castle as long as she could, finding odd tasks and errands and corners to lurk in. When she finally went back to the Greengrass family estate, it would be to pack her bags, kiss the old house elf on the cheek, and steal her dog away with her. 


-


The day after the battle, Ron went out to Hagrid’s cabin in the stubborn chill of the afternoon and sat in his pumpkin patch. He didn’t go knock on the rough-hewn door, and Hagrid didn’t come out, but after twenty minutes Fang trotted into the yard and patiently got slobber all over his shirt. 

Ron watched the sway of the shadows beyond the Forest’s edge. Buckbeak’s old tying post stood among the twining squash vines and their giant fuzzy leaves, the metal ring hanging empty against weathered wood. He thought about Ginny brushing her thumb over Harry’s scars and wrapped 
his hands over the pale marks that curled around his wrists. 

When the air started biting and the sky started darkening, Ron pulled himself back to his feet and climbed up to the library. He had never lived there, never really liked its labyrinth of stacks and dusty air, but he knew the way there better than he knew the way to the Quidditch pitch or the Room of Requirement or all those other places he liked so much more. 

It was empty, except for Hermione, and he was glad. She squeezed her last book into her bag and looked up at him, shoving her hair back off her forehead. 

“They doing dinner down there?” she said, her dry throat rasping on it. 

He shrugged. “Mum’s organizing, I think. It– helps, I think." 

She nodded, looking down to do the clasps up slowly, one by one. 

"I just wanted to go back to the tent,” said Ron. “Be alone. It’s quiet." 

"I won’t get in your way,” she said. “It’s still pitched down there." 

"I know,” he said. “With you, I meant.”

“That’s not alone,” she said. “I’m not quiet,” she said. She clasped and unclasped the bag. 

“Words. Accuracy. I never claimed to be the clever one." 

"But you are, Ron–" 

"Hermione,” he said. “Come with me? You shouldn’t be sitting here alone. Come home.”

They went down the grass through chilling air. Ron could hear his mother in his head, telling him to take her bag and carry it for her, but he just reached out for her hand. 


-


The day after the end of it all, Ron laid on the floor of the tent, counting stitches in the canvas, while Hermione read Hogwarts, A History like she didn’t have it memorized. She read her favorite parts aloud, stopping mid-sentence when the tent flap rustled and opened. 

“Ginny’s sitting on Neville until he agrees to sleep in a real bed and not a pile of shrubbery,” Harry said, stepping inside and shutting it up behind him. “She got Luna to help because she says otherwise Luna will just fade into a corner and not come out for food.” He hunched his shoulders. “I’m not intruding, right?" 

"Don’t be daft,” said Ron and patted a bit of floor next to him. “C'mon, join in, Hermione’s trying to bore me to sleep. I suspect it’s an act of caring concern.” Hermione threw a pillow at his head without looking up from the pages.  

The day after the battle, they fell asleep in a tangle in the center of the tent that they had lugged across their country, across these long, cold days of the war. They had danced here to the radio, had chewed protein bars, played chess and bled and yelled at each other. 

But the war was over and they were growing into it, slow, staying up too late as they leaned into each other and whispered on this threadbare rug. They meant to wobble to their feet and get to bed, but Harry was clinging to Hermione’s hand and none of them wanted to go. 

They would get too old for this– hard floors and the way Harry’s neck was cricked up on Ron’s bony shoulder. Hermione’s snoring would get worse and Ron would have to sleep with four carefully arranged pillows to stop his back from aching in the mornings, but Harry would always have a place here. He had slept on Ron’s bedroom floor at fourteen, leaned on Hermione outside his parents’ broken home. 

In the weeks after the battle, Hermione would track down her parents and move back home, and they would all help the Weasleys rebuild the Burrow. Harry would move in Andromeda Tonks’s spare room. “We’re almost like family, after all,” she’d say briskly, shooing him into the house and showing him where she kept the tea, Teddy’s diapers, and the whiskey. They’d come for visits and talk through the night in each of those homes, curled up under Molly’s quilts or out on the Granger’s back porch swing or over fingers of firewhiskey with Andromeda. 

In the months after the war, he and Ron would get a flat while they went through Auror training and Hermione would crash there five nights out of seven. Her university textbooks would take over their countertops, shelves, tables, and floor and Harry wouldn’t tease them (too much) for how hilariously long they tried to pretend it was the couch Hermione slept on. 

Every home Ron and Hermione lived in, for the rest of their lives, would have a place for Harry– a spare room or a patch of floor or an old sofa. He would know how Hermione took her coffee, and his favorite cereal and Ginny’s favorite oatmeal would always been in the cupboard, and their children would have giggly cousin-sleepovers in magical tents they pitched on the living room rug. 

When the kids came shrieking in to wake them at absolutely unacceptable, ugly hours, Ginny would groan curse words they’d repeat gleefully among themselves, but Harry would let them grab his hands in their little sticky ones and pull him barefoot and messy-haired out into the morning.

→ plums & melons | 01

Originally posted by trash-for-bangtan

pairing → Jimin x Reader

☆ genre  →  smut, slight humor, drama || brother’s best friend!au 

warnings   → public indecency, dirty talk, a lot of teasing, jimin’s porn preferences, and boobs

☆ word count   → 6.3k

The long time running game between you and your brother’s best friend started when you noticed his fascination with boobs—yours specifically. It was never supposed to amount to more than harmless flirting and lingering glances, but now, one year later, Jimin was ready to change that.

alternatively: Jimin and you play a game. the loser is fucked. metaphorically. literally. all the above??

☆ a/n → i had to split this into 2 parts rip (& in this work of fiction, jimin’s penis isn’t a jelly bean) happy 3 months !!

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

so, um. if you have any particular feelings about labyrinth--specifically Sarah--uh, go wild.

WILD PEACHES  [AO3]

.

The morning after Sarah Williams defeats the Goblin King, she gets up and makes toast. She has to brush some glitter off the toaster—it withers and vanishes at the brush of her fingertips, and she stares at her hand for a long time. 

It mostly just looks like her hand. Even when she turns it over, and sees where she scraped her knuckles against the oubliette, where the shattered mirror cut the back of her wrist. It looks like she fell, or was playing in the street. That’s all.

The toast comes out burned, and Sarah stares at that too. Eventually, she slumps down against the cabinets and cries, wracking sobs that send her dad and Karen rushing into kitchen. They check her forehead for a fever, put their hands on her, and keep asking, “Are you okay? Sarah, please, tell us what’s wrong…”

Eventually, her dad drags her into his lap and cradles her against his chest, like he did when she was little. Her legs are too long to really fit anymore, but Sarah hugs him around the neck anyway. “It’ll be okay,” he says, keeps saying. “You’ll be okay.” And Sarah—doesn’t laugh, because she can’t, and doesn’t have the words to express what—how—

(None of her stories ever talked about this. What did Sir George do, the morning after he slayed the last dragon in England? Did Tam Lin eat breakfast, or did he sit there, shivering, wondering if his hands were different, having been claws and wings and scales?)

Afterwards, she leaves the burnt toast outside on the back porch. Not an offering. Maybe a reminder.

.

It’s Didymus she sees the most often, mostly because he’s the one who invites himself rather than waiting for an invitation. He comes for tea, but even if there’s no tea—which there isn’t, usually—he comes to tell Sarah stories. She learns to love poetry because there’s no escaping it with him. (She won’t read Idylls of the King until Brit Lit in college, but she ends up scrawling a lot in the margins; Didymus’ telling of events had been much more interesting.)

Once, she falls asleep like that, her hands tucked behind her head with Didymus curled up and sleepily reciting from the crook of her elbow. “So tender was her voice, so fair her face—though I don’t think he was looking at her face, my lady, pardon me for saying so—”

Sarah buries her nose in his fur. Didymus always smells of rosewater, and a crispness she thinks is just…the Labyrinth. She falls asleep trying to place it.

She wakes up with a wild fox in her bed, animal-black eyes frightened and flat, teeth bared. The fox is whining, and she’s tempted to throw herself across the room, to get away from this wild thing and its teeth. It takes a monumental will to keep herself still and her breathing slow, even; like she’s still asleep and unafraid. 

It takes her longer to swallow, and start humming one of the songs he taught her—a knight’s round, he’d said. She’s shaky at first, but the fox’s ears flick forward. It cocks its head, and slowly, the teeth disappear behind its lips. 

She almost laughs when noses at her throat curiously, butting its head against her jaw like a cat might.

Keep reading

I have a confession... I don’t belong here.

I’m not usually one to to say how she feels, let alone write down how she feels, but recent events have made it hard to hide where I’m at, so I thought I’d take a page from my good friend’s book and lay it all out here. To see if it helps.

Over the last few months really exciting things have been happening. Some things you know about, some you don’t. Suffice it to say life is good. And I’m terrified. I am utterly a fish out of water. I am lost and confused. And no one knows it. My life used to be small. I was a sun flower in a small garden. I thrived on what water I had and was fine. Fine. ish. I wanted more. I pretended that I knew more than I did so that I wouldn’t seem like such and outsider to my peers. Fake it till you make it, right? I knocked down doors that were locked and found opportunities that were hidden away form me. I was succeeding at the unimaginable. And then I pushed. And I pushed. And I pushed. Until I found myself weeping from a broken back because I had been pushing at brick walls that wouldn’t budge. I’d pushed too hard. And I became so terrified that I would be discovered as a fraud that I became selfish and insensitive. All to conceal a devastating fact. I don’t belong here.

I grew up on a small farm. We as kids worked the farm to help out. My mother moved us around where she could find work when my father lost his eyesight. we struggled always but we survived. This isn’t meant to be a pity party. My folks are strong as fuck. My point is, none of this is supposed to happen to girls like me. I was just a girl who loved to make people laugh, who loved the theatre and was terrified of being invisible. But recent events have put me in a position where lack of anonymity is making my screw ups more prevalent to some. And its an awful feeling. I try really hard to appear to be a person that is supposed to live in this kind of situation I’m in, because I love it here. But the secret is, I have no idea what I’m doing. So I fuck up. And I perhaps come across as self-absorbed and opportunistic as a sad attempt to look mightier than the small town girl that I really am. This is my way of keeping people far enough away that they wont see the cracks in my armour.

Here’s my other big secret. I love a lot. Like A LOT. I cant help it. My attraction to good humans can not be harboured and I am not ashamed. You look at my phone and I generally have 7 text threads going on any given day. I want to know everything about you at all times. I want you to share your deepest passions and griefs with me. I wanna know you inside and out! Here’s the thing, I don’t like to let people love me. Fucked up right? I want to love you but I don’t want you to need me. Cause I’ll disappoint you and you’ll go away and then it’ll all be for nothing. If I’m really scared of your love i’ll be unemotional, or distant, or if you’re really lucky- I might even be mean. 

Anyway this is my point: This exact life I’m living right now is a combination of my greatest dream and my most terrifying nightmare. I am not invisible and I can’t escape the love and the loving needs of others. I’m living a life that many including myself have only dreamed of. And I’m terrified that I’m just going to screw it all up.

So I’m writing this to let you know I’m going to work really really hard and do my absolute best to not fuck this up. Any of it. This is the steepest learning curve I’ve ever had in my life and I can no longer hide the fact that I feel in over my head. But stick with me, K? I’ll figure it all out really soon. 

Thank you for everything that you’ve given me and the patience you continue to give me. I’m sorry if it seems like I’ve taken your love for granted. It’s actually just the opposite. I just didn’t want you to know ;)


Good Girls Go Bad

Set in the 40’s. Y/N was your stereotypical girl next door, growing up in the apartment right across the hall from James Buchanan Barnes. She had always been the shy, reserved girl; she was the complete opposite of the enigmatic ladies man. Despite their proximity, she was sure that he didn’t even know she existed. What happens when they run into one another during a night out on the town? Is just one night all it really takes? 

Word Count: 3,408

Warnings: swearing, smut


Originally posted by evanstansource


You sighed, adjusting your dress as you gazed into the mirror. Even though it was still rather conservative, you couldn’t help but notice that it was more revealing than you were used to. The neckline plunged rather low, the collar fastened with a bow that drew attention to your cleavage. The waist was cinched, showing off your figure. Paired with the red heels that your friends had chosen for you, you were looking like a regular bombshell. Your friends had insisted that you go out with them tonight. You had turned them down too many times. They said that now, of all days, you had to accompany them. The newest army recruits would be shipping out tomorrow, and it was sure to be a lively night.

Keep reading

→ all that is gold (m)

Originally posted by chimtae


Sub!BTS collab

pairing → Taehyung x Reader

genre → roommate!au + sugar baby!au, smut, angst

warnings sub!taehyung, skype sex, masturbation, orgasm denial, possessiveness, slight breath play, oral sex, dirty talk, thigh riding, tae ends up sort of a switch? idk

☆ word count → 11.2k

☆ summary → As a college student struggling to make ends meet, Taehyung resorts to a less than ethical method to satisfy his appetite for expensive treats. The last thing he wants is for you to find out how he acquires the Gucci in his closet… however this proves to be difficult when you are his roommate.

or : Taehyung is a sugar baby and somehow thinks he can keep this a secret


☆ a/n → ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Keep reading

A brazen challenge

Synopsis: Imagine admitting to Loki that you never manage to orgasm when are with men, making him smirk mischievously in response.

“Is that a challenge, my dear?”

So for the next couple of hours, he magically locks the two of you in your room and makes it a challenge as to how many times he can make you cum in a row. He pleasures you with his soft hands, his skilled and long fingers and his silver tongue before he fucks you roughly.

Pairing: Loki x Reader
Rating: M
Chapter: 1/1 (Oneshot)
Words: 4040
Warnings: smut. a lot of smut.

Keep reading

Ink and Kisses

Anon said to moi:

“Omg i want a tattoo artist jungkook!!!!!! 😭😩 smut/fluff/and honestly anything!!!! I just love tattoos artists jungkook but there aren’t alot of those fanfic…. can u help a poor girl out ??💖”

FIRst time trying a Tattoo artist AU. I had to do some reading before this, and JK is sO sexy i s2g. Still weird that I don’t really ever feel like doing the do with him. HOPE YOU ENJOY <3 1,400 Words

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Tattooist au!

Part 1 | Part 2 (FINAL)

Originally posted by nnochu

No one would have ever imagined that hardcore badass Jeon Jungkook, the most well-known tattoo artist in the town, the guy who dropped out to follow his passion, was best friends with beautiful, sweet, top-scoring university student, Y/N. 

Physically, they seemed to be polar opposites. He had dragons inked onto his skin, three piercings on his left ear and two on his right, and always wore black; whilst you were a bright, clean slate – but you knew that was what he loved about you.

Keep reading

Inner Vixen

Warnings: SMUT (Ages 18+)

 

Summary: You’re fed up with being the blushing, shy girl, usually too insecure to return any of Bucky’s flirtatious advances. But with a little help from liquid courage, your inner vixen makes an appearance.

 

Word Count: 3.6k

“Barnes. 6 o’clock.” Natasha whispered keeping her eyes focused on you standing right beside her at the bar. Tony’s latest rager had started approximately an hour ago and, though you would never admit to nervously awaiting his arrival, she noticed your eyes lingering on the entrance every now and again.

Keep reading

Throat

Originally posted by bovaria

Summary: Bucky can’t quite control himself when it comes to you, and he’s not about to change that.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N:  i’m disgusting dude :/

WARNINGS: 18+!, dirty talk, masturbation, gagging, spanking, SLIGHT voyeurism, in general it’s nasty and i’m sorry. also! no condom is used in this but that don’t mean you can go around shoving ya dix and fajitas and whatnot anywhere ya want without protection. keep it safe.

Wordcount: 5,400 (no self control? i think so.)


Bucky Barnes was the kind of man to keep things bottled up. He was the kind of man that clutched his fists tight, kept his mouth shut, and dealt with things in his own time. More often than not, his methods of coping with situations gone wrong usually remained orthodox and controlled. He would sit and write until his mind could write no more and it was easier to breathe. Until he could face his team, face you, and function properly.

You were never an easy team member. Stubborn, scrappy in principles and always looking to give him a wild rush. He could almost say he hated working with you. He hated how you were always questioning orders, even if you often had a point, and how he could never concentrate with you around. Bucky Barnes hated the way you made him feel.

Like he wanted to grab a hold of your hair and smash his lips to yours. Like he couldn’t wait to tell you just how crazy you really drove him.

So it was hard, living with you. Often times, he scorned himself for choosing to reside in your second bedroom rather than in Steve’s apartment. He had been given a choice, and Bucky just couldn’t shut down your offer. He wanted to be closer to you, he wanted the rush in his veins when he was around you. It was different from the Avengers compound. There, he wasn’t alone with you. The team was there.

But here…here, he had you to himself.

Keep reading

Adult World (Jungkook smut)

Originally posted by nochuie

Description: You reveal to your friends that no one except yourself has ever made you cum. Jin in particular finds this interesting and dares you and Jungkook to go to the sex shop down the street and purchase a sex toy, for your own benefit of course.

Pairings: You x Jungkook, You x Taehyung, Jungkook x Taehyung (you know how truth and dare goes)

Basically: Taehyung is a cocky lil shit who features quite a lot. Jin is a mean lil shit and Jungkook is a very helpful lil shit ;)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff (so much smut, like damn this was hot to write)

This fic includes: A brief boy on boy scene, swearing, alcohol, sex toys, explicit smut

Word count: 6k


“You’ve got to be kidding!” Jin practically howls with laughter, doubling over himself and nearly falling off the couch with laughter. You’re about to tell him off but Jungkook beats you to it.

“Shut up. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Jin sits up straight, looking down at Jungkook, who sits next to you on the floor, opposite Jin. He wipes the tears from his eyes, his laughter finally dying down. “Hey, don’t you think you should talk to me with a bit more respect?” He prods teasingly, but Jungkook doesn’t seem in the mood, his previous lighthearted spirit vanishing upon Jin’s insensitive comment.

Jungkook’s tone is excitingly stern, but not rude, “Yeah, I’ll show more respect when you show more respect to Y/N.”

You laugh, “Don’t worry about me, Jungkook. I don’t think I can take Jin very seriously, not when I highly doubt he’d even know how to make me or any other girl cum.”

The circle of friends in Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment erupt into comical ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’.

“You got damn burned!” Jimin says, leaning over the bottles in the center of your various seated positions to high five you.

Keep reading

You’re Nuts Dude (Tom Holland x Reader)

Note(s): Sorry I haven’t written anything in a while dolls! I’ve been camping so there’s not much time >.<  I think this is the longest imagine I’ve written so far! Hope you enjoy it dolls x


Warning(s): nothing, just major fluff and feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelsssssssss


Summary: Remember that girl? Who didnt believe Tom was Spidey? Yeah? Well she sure as hell does now.





Tom sighed as he slammed his temporary locker shut before slinging his backpack over his shoulder and stalking off. He couldn’t wait for this day to be over,  it would be his last time setting foot in this school. The last time he’d be publicly embarrassed in front of at least thirty science wiz kids. He’d finally be free.


It had been a joke when he suggested to Marvel that he spend sometime in a High School, since he was British and had no clue how High Schools worked. Apparently Marvel thought that it would be a good idea and so three weeks  later the British actor found himself outside the Bronx School of Science with a fake name,a  backpack and a pencil case.


His time at the school hadn’t been a complete nightmare. There was this one girl, who coincidentally was in all of the classes Tom had to attend. She had these, mesmerising (eye colour) eyes that complimented her soft (skin colour) skin, along with a smile that could light up an entire room. She was incredibly sweet and so smart that Tom would’ve been lying if he said that it wasn’t a turn on. Tom had remembered her name to be (Y/N) and he’d heard that she’d been practically guaranteed a place at Harvard University in the future.


The bell rung above the young actors head, signalling  the final period of the day. With a huff Tom made his way to class, praying that  time would pass quickly.





Tom couldn’t help himself from staring she was just so… beautiful. He was transfixed with the way  she bit her bottom lip as she concentrated on solving the equation written out on the board. The way her hair would fall over her face as she worked, and how she would constantly have to brush behind her ears to prevent the luscious (hair colour) locks from obstructing her vision.


God, she was perfect.


Tom rested his face in the palms of his hands, his elbows resting on the desk for support. He gazed at her dreamily, wondering what’d be like to kiss those pretty pink lips, he bet they were soft and tasted of vanilla. He wondered what it’d be like to spend a Sunday afternoon with her, cuddling up in tons of blankets. He wondered-


“Mr Wilson, are you with us?”


At first Tom didn’t respond, still not used to being called by his fake name.  The professor standing at the head of the classroom called out again, attempting to gain Tom’s attention. All the while is brown hues were kept trained on her. “Sam Wilson?”


It wasn’t until she had turned her head to stare at Tom curiously that he realised he was been called. Sam Wilson. How ironic, marvel seriously couldn’t think of a better fake name.  He swore Anthony Mackey hated him anyways. Tom shook his head quickly, breaking out of his reverie and turning his attention to the teacher. “Ah-uh-um…y-yes sir?” Tom replied with a stammer, crumbling under the pressure of her intrigued gaze.


(Y/N) had her head turned to face the boy, an eyebrow quirked with interest. A smirk played at her pink lips as she eyed Tom, a mischievous glint in her       (eye colour) eyes. “Do you know the answer Mr Wilson?”


Tom’s head immediately snapped in the direction of the teacher’s voice, he glanced down at his worksheet only to see it completely blank. Damn physics. Damn (Y/N) for being so god damn attractive. And distracting. He looked back up at the teacher and shook his head with a blush, feeling 30 pairs of eyes trained on him. “Maybe if he stopped staring at (L/N) like that, he’d actually be able to get something right!”  A kid called out, sending the class intro streams of laughter.


Tom bowed his head, slightly embarrassed. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the (hair coloured) girl, turn away from him to flip off the other student. “Why don’t you shut up Alexander?” She snapped fiercely. “Let him stare! At least he knows he’s good enough to get some”.


The class was sent into fits of laughter, as Alexander ducked his head. (Y/N) turned back to look at Tom, a grin gracing her supple lips as she winked at him, he only nodded sheepishly in response before her attention was stolen by the teacher, who was attempting to silence the class.


After a few minutes of the teacher blabbing on about half-lives and the life cycle of a star, (Y/N) turned to face the British boy sitting next to her, doodling in his notebook. “Hey man” she called out, gaining Tom’s attention, their eyes met and she could see that Tom’s brown hues had a hit of nervousness in them. “What’s your deal?”


Tom’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. This was the first time that she had talked to him directly and being the stupid teenage boy he was, Tom desperately wanted her to like him. He could make up some kind of lie? But then that would totally backfire on him since he’s a terrible liar. He could also tell the truth? I mean who wouldn’t find playing spiderman awesome? Not to mention the fact that honesty is the best policy.


“You wanna know what my secret is?” Tom blurted out before his brain could catch up. The girl beside him, only nodded. The boy sighed, before looking her directly in the eye. “I’m Spiderman”


Silence.


“My name isn’t Sam Wilson, it’s actually Tom Holland” the boy continued, in hopes of impressing the intelligent girl beside him. He quickly dropped the fake American accent to continue. “I’m British and I’ve been sent here undercover by Marvel for the past 3 days”


(Y/N) eyed him with a curious look before bursting out into fits of giggles, Tom watched her incredulously. She sure was gorgeous when she laughed, the way her smile reached her eyes where they would crinkle at the corner and- But she didn’t believe him?


“You’re-ha-so…funny!” The girl said between hushed giggles, leaning on the palm of her hand, smiling at Tom. He shook his head, a blush rising on his cheeks as the bell rung, signalling the end of class. (Y/N) briefly looked up, before leaning over her desk to wink at Tom.


She stood, picking up her bag and packing away her belongings before slinging the bag over her shoulder. Tom mimicked her actions, now standing opposite her awkwardly. “You’re a great lab partner” she said, grinning at him.


“T-thanks”. Tom stuttered “you are too”


She smiled, looking down at her feet. With a blush she looked up at Tom, moving to walk out of the class room as it cleared up. “I hope you have a nice weekend, ‘Tom Holland” she whispered sweetly, air quoting ‘Tom Holland’. “I’ll see ya on Monday? Yeah?”


Tom smiled at her sadly. “Yeah Monday…”






(Y/N) smiled as she stepped off the plane in Atlanta. The warm breeze, weaved its way through her lose (hair coloured) locks, causing it to gently sway in the breeze. She happily hopped down the steps , excited at the thought of exploring the state.


It was to be (Y/N)’s first time in Atlanta and she would be visiting her favourite person in the whole world. Her cousin, Laura Harrier.


(Y/N) and Laura had been extremely close since they were young, they did everything together and were practically like sisters. Although there were a good  six years between the two girls, they were almost identically alike.


The girl patiently waited for her luggage at the conveyer belt, her mind absently drifting of all the things she could do and explore in Atlanta. Her flower patterned suitcase went round the conveyer belt around at least five times before it was taken off by someone near by.


“I believe this belongs to you madam” the voice called out, grasping hold of the girl’s attention. (Y/N) turned, her (hair colour) locks bouncing as she did so. As she did, she was met with the beaming and radiant face of her cousin, Laura. The two girls squealed as they pulled each other on for a long and comforting hug. When they pulled away, Laura held her younger cousin at arms length, before giving her a twirl, causing the young girl’s sun dress to spin around with her.


“Laura!” (Y/N) chirped, quickly hugging her cousin again. “It’s so good to see you! I missed you so much!”


The older brunette, held her cousin at arms length, admiring her features. “I’ve missed you too! Look at how much you’ve grown!” Laura gushed, smiling down at her shorter relative. (Y/N) pouted playfully, softly smacking Laura on her arm.


“You make me sound like a baby” (Y/N) whined in a playful manner. Laura laughed at her, a mischievous glint in her brown doe eyes.


“That’s because you are a baby


“I’m only six years younger than you”


Laura smirked, wiggling her eyebrows teasingly. “Exactly”


The pair begun to walk out of the airport, sunglasses pulled down over their eyes avoid the paparazzi. They managed to make their way to Laura’s sleek black car, where her driver loaded in the luggage and opened the door for the pair. “So I was thinking-” the twenty seven year old actress begun. “That we grab a bite to eat at this adorable little corner cafe downtown before we drop your bags off at the hotel and-”


“Sounds like you’ve got this all planned out” the (hair colour) girl grinned, an eyebrow quirked at her cousin. Laura rolled her eyes in response, before digging in her purse as her phone rung. She gave (Y/N) an apologetic smile, before answering the call with a hushed whisper. The younger cousin let out a hushed laugh, looking out the window as she did so, admiring the streets of the state she’d never been to before. The sun reflected of the roofs of cars, creating a glare with an array of colours. The sky was as clear as day, only small fragments of clouds dotting the pale blue abyss or disappearing into small wisps of white.


“Sorry about that” Laura’s voice pulled the younger girl out of her thoughts . “Tom managed to mess up a scene at the studio and they want me to come in to shoot it again”


Wait?” (Y/N) called out in shock, causing the driver to hit the breaks.  The pair of cousins were launched forward by the force, almost colliding with the backs of the chairs. “Scene? as in movie scene?


Laura laughed, slapping her cousin on the leg. “Well duh? I’m an actress! Silly!”


“I know that!” (Y/N) exclaimed, an expression of shock displayed on her soft features. “But you got a new role! Congratulations girl!”


The older brunette blushed bashfully, smiling a bit. The driver revved up the engine, moving along with the traffic and making a left for the studios. “I was going to surprise you, since you’re such a big marvel fan…”


Laura trailed off, winking at her cousin. (Y/N)’s jaw dropped, her (eye colour) doe eyes widening. This only meant one thing. “You’re in a Marvel movie?!”


It took all of the young woman’s will power not to scream in the car. All the while her older cousin and best friend sat there grinning. The younger cousin waved her hands about excitedly, having been a fan of the comics all her life and having a cousin in the newest movie was a big deal to her. She was proud of her cousin and was so excited to see how she would perform. Although (Y/N) was never really into the movies, she’d definitely be seeing this one in support of her elder cousin. “Yes! This is crazy right?” Laura gushed, grasping her cousin’s hands.


“So crazy!” (Y/N) grinned. “This is all so exciting!”


“Just wait until you meet the cast” the twenty-seven year old actress stated, absentmindedly, leaning over to point the driver in the right direction.


“The cast?!”


Let’s just say, (Y/N) almost deafened Laura and the driver.






After dropping off (Y/N)’s luggage at Laura’s trailer, the pair headed over to the lunch trailer to grab something to eat. The two cousins made their way up the steps together, Laura was chatting excitedly about the friends she had made a few months into shooting whilst her younger cousin absentmindedly day dreamed. She was about to meet the cast of a marvel movie. Right on the other side of the door could be stars like Robert Downey junior, or even Chris Evans!


They made their way through the door, opening it up to find an arguing  group of actors and actresses roughly their age. “One hundred percent Gryffindor student!” A male voice called out, as if his opinion wasn’t obvious enough. “I mean who’s gonna go 'Yeah I wanna be in Hufflepuff!’”


“A lot of people actually” a female voice interjected. “Eddie Redmayne in fact.”


(Y/N) rolled your eyes at the conversation. Any Harry Potter fan would know that Hufflepuff was J.K Rowling’s favourite house.  She looked to Laura who was already shaking her head with a knowing look. “I know what you’re thinking, and honestly they’re not that bad. Not everyone is a Harry Potter nerd like you” the older woman chuckled. (Y/N) grinned, taking hold of her cousin’s hand before heading further into the trailer. The pair headed straight for the snack table, gaining the attention of the cast.


“Hey guys!” Laura chirped, causing heads to turn in her direction. Three pairs of eyes connected with the two cousins.


Laura!” The group chorused, attacking her with hugs.


“What are you doing back here girl?” A voice she recognised to be Zendaya’s, questioned. “I thought you had the rest of the day off.


I did“ Laura giggled, with a smirk, her gaze drifting lazily over to a brunette haired male. “But someone, managed to mess up a scene. So I had to come back”

Of course” Zendaya laughed, her hair bouncing around as she playfully shook her head. Her brown eyes shifted to the figure standing behind the twenty-seven year old. “And who’s this cutie?”


At this point everyone had gathered by the table. Laura stepped aside, revealing her cousin to her friends. “Everyone, this is my younger cousin, (Y/N)”  Laura babbled sweetly. “She’s visiting from the Bronx!”


“Hey everyone” she whispered shyly.


As soon as the name was uttered, Tom’s eyes flickered up. That was a  name he hadn’t heard for years. He was certain that he’d misheard his co-star. As far as he was concerned, he’d seen the last of that girl after his time in high school. One of Tom’s biggest regrets was not giving her his number. If he had a pound for every time he’d thought of her, he’d be filthy rich, or even more.


The British actor swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched Laura and her  younger cousin make rounds, meeting everyone. She’d already met Zendaya, and was now talking with Jacob. 'This couldn’t be her, no way.’ He thought, it was highly unlikely, it was virtually impossible, it was-


You?!” She shrieked, her (eye colour) doe eyes widening as she dropped her bag. Tom’s mouth dropped open. It really was her.


(Y/N) (L/N). The girl he constantly thought about for the last 3 years. All the while, the three remaining actors eyed the pair curiously.


“Do you two…know each other?” Jacob asked. A small blush rose on Tom’s cheeks as he tried to make eye contact with the girl opposite him. He noticed how her eyebrows were still raised in shock and how her eyes shined with recognition.


“Yeah…” (Y/N) spoke cautiously, reaching down to pick up her bag, sadness etched into her voice “Sam went to my high school for about three days, he disappeared and I never saw him again.”


Zendaya, Laura and Jacob eyed each other weirdly, before looking back at the confused pair. “Sam?” Zendaya laughed. “That’s Tom sweet cheeks”


Tom grimaced, as (Y/N)’s expression twisted from one of shock to one of confusion. The atmosphere was tense, you could cut the tension with a knife in there. A small, pink blush dusted her cheeks, as she tried to piece together the situation. “But I-but-he-we”


So this was the girl Tom talked about in his interviews” Jacob teased with a wink. “The pretty girl who didn’t believe he was Spidey, the one who called him crazy?”


Laura looked at (Y/N), shocked. “You’re that girl?”


(Y/N) stood opposite Tom, blushing hard. She had no idea what was going on, or how to wrap her head around the situation. Sam was Tom. Tom was Sam. There was no Sam. The cute nerdy boy from her physics class was Tom Holland. The Tom Holland. An actor.


Before anyone had a chance to speak, a stage hand came in to ask for the young actors. Laura was needed in hair and makeup so she could re-shoot her scene. Zendaya and Jacob were also needed as they had a couple lines in the scene. Tom had to reshoot his part a bit later as he had to put on the suit.


“Make sure she doesn’t die!” Laura called out as she left, causing both Jacob and Zendaya  to laugh out loud. They soon exited , leaving Tom and (Y/N) alone. Since it was a nice day out, Tom offered to take the younger girl on a tour of the sets. They explored the prop rooms and costume areas, they also talked about the movie. Tom did is best to make sure he didn’t tell (Y/N) any spoilers. He loved seeing how her eyes lit up as they walked between sets and admired different props. He loved the way her small fingers trailed over the costumes carefully, as if she was afraid to damage them.


Suddenly, the weather changed from sunny to dark and dreary. The grey clouds chucking down buckets of rain. The pair growing cold and soaked, ran quickly back to Tom’s trailer to seek shelter. Once inside, they shed their jackets that clung to their skin and Tom quickly changed his shirt (not that (Y/N) minded, she liked the way Tom’s abs looked). He timidly offered (Y/N) a spare shirt of his own and was waiting for her to come out of the bathroom.


The girl stepped out of the cramped space, her now wet clothes folded into a neat pile as she let Tom’s white shirt flow over her body. Her bare feet padded over the carpeted floor, as she made her way to Tom’s leather couch on the far side of his trailer.


He was scrolling through his phone, replying to fan’s tweets and liking Instagram fan art. He barely noticed (Y/N) sitting down beside him. She drew her knees up to her chest, resting her arms on them before propping her chin up. The       (skin toned) girl coughed lightly, capturing Tom’s attention.


“So, Monday huh?” She whispered, with a light chuckle, remembering their last conversation. At this point, Tom had slipped his phone into his back pocket.


“Yeah...Monday


They both laughed, it was almost as if they were reliving the conversation. There was a silence that swept over the pair, the only sounds coming from the rain beating on the roof of the trailer. “You know, I didn’t think I’d ever see you again” Tom spoke after a little while. (Y/N) looked up at him, taking in his soaked and adorable appearance. The way his hair fell over his soft brown eyes. God he was cute.


She let out a small laugh. “Don’t you think I should be the one saying that?” Tom let a small smile grace his lips as she talked. “I mean, I was looking forward to seeing you that next Monday, I came back to find out you had gone, gotta say, I was heart broken. Mr Wilson


Tom laughed at his fake name, before shifting fully to face her . “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye”


“You better be sorry” (Y/N) scolded playfully, slyly grinning at the young actor. “I had just worked up the courage to ask you out, I really liked you, y'know?”


It was Tom’s turn to be surprised, he couldn’t believe the girl he was crushing on liked him back. “Y-y-yo-you liked me?” He stuttered, his hand reaching to rub the back of his neck . (Y/N) nodded bashfully, smiling at Tom.


“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you stared at me, I thought it was cute!”


Tom couldn’t help but hide his face in a pillow, when (Y/N) laughed at his cuteness he chucked the cushion at her, hitting her square in the face. She squealed, trying to push herself away from him as the British boy launched himself at her, his fingers attacking her sides.


“Puh-pah-please Tom!” She begged between breathless giggles as he tickled her some more. Eventually, when her laughs turned to wheezes, Tom ceased his tickling. It was only then that they realised the position they were in, her back was to the sofa and Tom was laying between her legs, their faces pressed close and his hands by her sides.


(Y/N) looked Tom directly in the eyes, admiring the little flecks of black in his brown hues. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice that you were actually Tom Holland”


Tom smiled gently. “And I can’t believe I didn’t ask you  out sooner”


(Y/N) noticed how the air in the room had become scarce, and how hot her body felt pressed up beneath Tom’s. She thought back to how hard she’d been crushing on him during her senior year and how much she’d thought about letting him get away. Even after all these years, her feelings for him were still strong. She let her (eye colour) hues flick between his own and his lips.


At the same time, Tom thought about all the months he regretted not trying to stay in contact, he thought about all the times he wished she could’ve been his. And here she was, wrapped up in his arms, close to him. Before the British actor could even process what he was doing, his eyes had fluttered closed and he was pressing his lips to hers.


The kiss was sweet and full of so many unspoken emotions. The girls soft lips melded perfectly with Tom’s as they captured one another. (Y/N) let her small hands travel to the nape of the boy’s neck, her fingers twisting in the small hairs that resided there. The British actor snaked his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. The bare skin of her smooth thighs creating a burn on his arms as he lifted her. When they pulled away, (Y/N)’s eyes were still closed. Tom grinned, pressing a small kiss to her nose, causing her to open them. She smiled up at him.


“Wow” she breathed, causing the man above her to nod in agreement. “I guess we better thank Marvel, for sending you to my school or otherwise this wouldn’t have happened”


Tom gave the girl in his arms a toothy smile as she lazily gazed up at  him, her soft fingers tracing patterns on the bare skin of his arms. “And I guess I have a new story to tell in my interviews”


“You do?”  She smirked. “What’s it about?”


“It’s about how I get the girl that didn’t believe me and how head over heels I am for her” Tom murmured, leaning in for another kiss. (Y/N) sighed, contented.


“Is that your way of asking me out Mr Holland?” (Y/N) teased causing the actor to roll his eyes.


“And  what if it was? What would you say?”


The young girl pretended to ponder for a second, before leaning up to Tom’s ear. “I’d say, 'you’re nuts dude’” she whispered “do you know what I’d say next?”


“What would you say next?” The brunette boy whispered back, leaning down, so that their lips were almost touching.


“I’d say…hell yes”

playing with fire (m.) | 01

After an ugly breakup between you and your boyfriend of nearly one year, Jimin – you’re not only heartbroken, but absolutely irate at the things discovered after the two of you split up. One night while under the influence of pure unadulterated anger and alcohol, you and your best friend come up with the perfect plan to get back at him. Because, after all, you do know what they say, right?

If he breaks your heart, you fuck his best friend.

…Even if he has six.

cr.

pairing: hoseok x reader

word count: 4.2k

collaboration with: @blushoseoks

genre: smut  |  angst  |  fuckboy!hoseok

warning: wall sex  |  oral  |  dirty talk  |  demeaning names  |  cheating

masterlist | emna’s masterlist




The gentle click of heels against the linoleum floor - almost drowned out by the muffled music coming from the end of the corridor. A cracked door, the only light source in a space that had no windows. When Jeongyeon had told you that Hoseok would be practicing late, you almost didn’t believe her. You and he had never been close. The only time you ever spoke was when Jimin would bring you over to the frat house and most of the time Hoseok would be making out with his girlfriend or fucking her loud enough that when she would leave his room - dazed with messy lipstick and a bubbly expression on her face, the boys would tease her nonstop until a blush rose on her cheeks.


Keep reading

BTS Reaction | Watching porn together

Anon request; Bts reaction to you asking them to watch porn together and you’re just friends

Anon request; bts are your best friends and you watch porn together and they or the reader touch themselves or both and they want to do more.

Keep reading

Wrong Taxi (Part 1)

Summary: You get into an already occupied taxi and what ensues can only be bad luck. (Done for Kait’s 5k AU Writing Challenge).

Word Count: 2,757

Warnings: Drinking. Throwing up. 

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble series, but it is definitely not lol. I hope you all enjoy this first part. It’s gonna be a fun ride :D

Originally posted by dolorioushaze


The heartache was more than you could have ever foreseen. You were blissfully unaware of how much value you had placed on your relationship with your now-ex boyfriend. It was a slap in the face when he broke up with you and you found yourself crying in a bathroom stall at work. Cursing at yourself, you wiped your eyes with the coarse toilet paper, hissing at the sting it caused on the sensitive skin. Kleenex did a much better job, but the box was currently sitting on your desk, which was in the middle of the vast office you worked at. And the last thing you wanted was wandering eyes and gossips flowing around the office with you in the center of it all.

Blowing your nose, you groaned and buried your face in your hands. Expletives ricocheted back and forth inside your brain, almost all of them directed at your former boyfriend, but some of them were for yourself. You had been foolish, utterly and completely foolish. Thinking that he was as in love with you as you were with him, you had even asked him to move in the previous week. He had just smiled at you and told you he’d think about it.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey! If you're still taking prompts, could you write about neil and Andrew having a conversation about Neil's past? Like the stuff he had to do to survive and the stuff he went through with the worlds shittiest parents? Also I'm pretty sure neil has killed people like it makes complete sense so maybe andreil talking about that?

There’s a band of pale blue light nipping at the tops of the trees and sharpening the silhouettes of the houses, but everything else is fresh and dark. Andrew smokes with the pack clenched in his fist, the cherry of the cigarette winking at the street lamps winking at the orange moon.

Their front porch isn’t like the rush of the rooftop, but he can get that same jitter of fear from Neil nowadays, and he’s more portable. He’d left him knotted in the bedsheets an hour ago, and knowing he’s inside somewhere at his back is burning him up. Andrew inhales and focuses on the exhale, the way the smoke still tries to hurt him when it should’ve given up. He likes that nicotine doesn’t leave him alone.

Neil slips out the front door and lets the screen door clatter, and Andrew knows that he’s upset before he sits down two steps below Andrew, holding his own head.

He doesn’t ask; just smokes fervently. The moon bobs its head sympathetically, wind catches the smoke and breaks it over Neil’s head like water on rocks.

It occurs to Andrew that Neil isn’t going to start this conversation, because he likes to think things through on his own, solve them wrong, and tell Andrew about his mistakes later. He’s insufferably convinced of his own problem-solving abilities, then obsessed with the mechanism of his own missteps.

“What?” Andrew asks impatiently. He flicks ash from his cigarette and holds it out in front of Neil’s face. Neil sidles through his own tangled thinking for long enough to glance up. He leans forward and sucks the smoke from between Andrew’s fingers.

When he looks away, gusting smoke from his open mouth, he says, “Matt called. We fought.”

You fought,” Andrew guesses.

Neil looks agitated, blue in the choked light, eyes black and furious. “He was being unfair. He keeps trying to tell me what’s right or wrong lately, because he thinks I’ve been— been deprived, like my experiences were outside of humanity, or morality, and it’s so— condescending.”

“You’re only realizing this now? All of the foxes are condescending. It is the only way they can avoid their own failure.”

“This was different,” Neil says, shaking his head. “I can tell when they’re saying things because they want to see my reaction, and this wasn’t that. He meant what he was saying.”

“And what was that?”

Neil goes gagged silent. He shifts backwards up to Andrew’s stair without looking at him, settling into the groove worn into the wood.

“That killing someone makes you a monster. That murder is the worst thing you can do to a person.”

Keep reading

Bygones of the Sun | 03 (M)

Originally posted by hobismole

Genre: Angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

Pairing: Reader x Hoseok

Length: 7.8k

Summary: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04

Keep reading

a friend like mine [2]

Summary: A discussion about a break up leads to….interesting revelations. || Sebastian x Reader || part 2 of 2 || part one is here

Warnings: smut and all that entails, thigh riding, choking, spanking, seb being a dirty lil shit, swearing, and i think that’s it?

Note: I’m going to hell and you’re all coming with me

Keep reading

off limits | 04 (m)

pairing: kim seokjin x reader
genre/warnings: smut, dom! Jin, dare I say fluff…? followed by an ‘oh shit’ moment
words: 12,051
summary: you’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…

  » playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

Keep reading