if smacking the shit out of her is the only way to get through....i will do it

anonymous asked:

1,18,&19????

1. “Oh my God. You’re in love with her.”

a/n: whoop whoop some college shawn comin @ ya


“So, uh, what’s been going on with you and Y/n?” Brian asks Shawn from across the pingpong table. The boys were never ones to get deep or gush like girls, but after the way Shawn had been attached at the him to you lately, someone had to ask him about it. 

“Nothin’ man, she’s just really cool and funny.” Shawn brushes off, smacking the ball back to Brian, but missing the table completely. 

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, man.” Brian teases. 


Keep reading

Without a doubt ♡ Ethan

Request: ‘’can you do one where ethan is dating a girl who’s not a size two she’s a little bigger and when they are out fans stop them and one girl calls her fat and saying she probably can’t even wear his clothes like a normal gf cause they don’t fit so she goes back to the apt and cries and he is panicked cause he can’t find her and he rushes home and asked what happened and cuddles her tells her that’s she’s perfect he doesn’t want a size 2 girl her loves her and falls asleep in his shirt happy‘’

Response: Thanks for requesting :) I am finally done with school so I’m going to start posting more regularly now! I hope you like it xx (I suck at titles but oh well haha)

Warning: I don’t speak English so if there are any vocabulary/grammar mistakes, please ignore them. I try my best :)

Tonight had just been perfect. The stars were out and shining, the city was bustling and your stomach was full of delicious food you just ate at your favourite restaurant. You brush your head against Ethans large arm why he strokes his thumb over your entwined fingers. With closed eyes you inhale the cold but fresh air while Ethan and you walk down the street, on the way back to his apartment. It felt like the world was at peace and there were no problems. Of course there were, but you liked the illusion.

‘Are you tired?’ Ethan asks softly. The sound of his voice vibrates through his arm to your ear that was pressed to his arm. ‘A little,’ you respond, letting out a deep yawn. Ethan chuckles and tightens his grip around your waist. ‘Just hold on, baby. We’ll be home in a few minutes.’

Unfortunately that’s not going to happen, you think as you see a group of girls walking down the other side of the street. Most of them were busy on their phone, but a few weren’t and recognise Ethan. Their eyes grow big and they stand still so abruptly that the girls behind them bump into them. ‘Ethan? Ethan Dolan?!’ They don’t even look if a car could ride them over when they run towards you and your boyfriend. A few seconds later you are surrounded by a whole group of giggling excited girls.

‘Ethan, Ethan! Can you make a selfie with me?’ several girls ask him, but before Ethan answers he focuses his eyes on you. ‘Is it okay?’ ‘Sure, E! Don’t worry ‘bout me,’ you say. He smiles at you lovingly before he pays attention to his fans. You let go of his warm hand and take a few steps back so could give him and the fans some space.

You absolutely loved seeing E interacting with his fans. He took the time for every single one of them and tried to answer all of their questions, always staying kind and polite. You didn’t even felt uncomfortable when he kissed a fan on the cheek, because you knew it was only because they asked and there was no meaning behind it. And you could know, because damn, he kissed you in a whole different way. Your cheeks heat up at the thought of his soft kisses and the touch of his hands. The entire time Ethan was taking pictures with the girls his eyes would flicker from them back to you, making sure everything was okay.

Suddenly you notice a few girls who already got a picture standing a meter away from the whole group. They were whispering while looking at you from head to toe, which gave you an unpleasant feeling. Were they judging you? One of them, a beautiful tall, blond girl, walks up to you. She doesn’t even say hi. ‘You are Ethans girlfriend, aren’t you?’ The way she said it made you feel even smaller than you already were next to her. You frown your eyebrows, surprised that she talked like she was so much better than you.

‘Yes, I am.’ The girl clicks her tongue disapprovingly. ‘Oh,’ was all she said. You knew you shouldn’t care, but you did anyway. ‘Why?’ The girl let out a small, humorous laugh. ‘Have you even looked at yourself? It surprises me that Ethan still wants to walk next you. I bet you don’t even fit into his clothes.’ It felt like someone just smacked you in the face. ‘What do you mean by that?’ The girl rolls her eyes. ‘Are you dumb or something? You look like a pig. Ethan deserves a girl who is just as pretty as him, and you definitely aren’t.’

Wow, that hurt. Really bad. You don’t know what to say, so just stare at her. How in the world could someone say that? Doesn’t she have feelings? Just until now you realise you were crying; your sight was getting blurry. You look at Ethan who was laughing at something a fan said to him. You angrily wipe the tears from your cheeks and start walking back to the apartment. You just couldn’t stay here anymore.

You were running up the stairs, going to Ethans bedroom. You crawl onto the bed and burry yourself under the covers, trying to hide yourself from the negative thoughts that were now filling your head. Most of the time you were pretty confident, but when someone said something like that to you your self-esteem was hard to find. You knew you weren’t the skinniest girl, but you had never considered yourself as fat.

Yes, you weren’t a size two and you were little curvy, but Ethan always pointed out he liked that about you, just as everything else about your appearance. Now you start thinking that he only said that because he wanted to make you feel good. And perhaps the girl was right; maybe you should tried to lose weight.

When Ethan realised you were gone, he apologized to the fans and quickly went home. He didn’t even want to think about what could have happened to you or what he would do if you weren’t at his apartment. When he reaches his apartment he’s totally out of breath, but still runs up the stairs with to steps at a time.

‘Y/N?!’ Ethan yells. ‘Shit, Y/N!’ he says when he sees you on the bed, wrapped in his sheets. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving? I was scared that something had happened to you!,’ he says loudly, sounding a little angry. When you don’t answer because of your uncontrollable crying, he lowers his voice. ‘Babe, what’s wrong? What happened?’

‘Nothing, please leave me alone,’ you say with a muffled voice. Ethan walks up to the bed, sitting down at the side. ‘I’m not leaving until you say what happened. Please,’ he adds when you don’t move or answer. He sounds miserable, like it was his fault you were crying in his bed. With a sigh you pull the sheets back and look at him. His face is worried and his mouth is a thin line, but of course he still looked amazing.

‘Do you think I’m fat?’ you quietly ask. Ethan blinks his eyes a few times as if he didn’t heard what you said. ‘What?’ ‘You heard me.’ Ethan shoots closer to you. ‘Of course I don’t think you’re fat! Who even made you think that?’ Your lips tremble, trying to hold back the tears. ‘T-This girl said… That I’m…’ You start crying again, hiding your face behind your hands.

‘Hey, hey… Come here,’ Ethan says softly while he puts his arms around you, pressing you gently against his chest. He smelled heavenly. He smelled like home. ‘Sshh… It’s okay,’ he calms you down. When you slowly stop crying, he pulls back and rests his large hands on your thighs. ‘Y/N, you should never let people get to you… I know it’s hard, but they are just jealous. Believe me. You are stunning and I love your curves! No one can tell me otherwise.’

You look at him. ‘Even my thighs? And my belly?’ you ask, looking up to him. ‘Yes,’ Ethan answers immediately. ‘Even when my hair is a mess and I look like a panda?’ you ask. ‘Without a doubt,’ he chuckles and leans in to put a sweet kiss on your nose. You put your hands on his cheeks and kiss his warm lips.

Ethan could taste the salt of your tears. He kisses them away while stroking your thighs. He knew you weren’t in the mood now, so after a minute he slowly pulls back, looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever seen. ‘Do you want to stay tonight?’ he whispers, stroking your cheek. ‘I would love to, but I don’t have any clean clothes with me…’ you answer.

Ethan stands up, walks to his drawers and comes back with a clean t-shirt. You raise your arms and pull your sweater over your head. You notice Ethan staring at your chest when you unclasp your bra.

Ethans fingertips stroking your arms while he helps you putting on his shirt made you get goosebumps on your whole body. You both take off your pants and get comfortable in bed, laying down in a spooning position. ‘I love you, E,’ you whisper. ‘I love you so much more. Good night, Y/N,’ Ethan says and places a sweet kiss on your cheek.

Originally posted by sensualkisses

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

PLEASE TELL THE CHILDREN THE STORY OF MS. STUBELS

Grace fuck, why would you invoke her name like that???

Okay, fine, gather round children, buckle up because we’re going on a bumpy ride back to everyone’s collective least favorite place: 7th grade.

Some background: I went to a very small Catholic school. One class per grade (we were the largest with 19 kids), everyone knew each other whether they wanted to or not. Despite basically every teacher and faculty members insistence that we were The Best And Most Special Class In The School and that everyone loved having us, the longstanding 7th grade teacher Mrs. O’Hara decided to retire in the summer of 2008, meaning the school had to find us a new teacher for the upcoming year. This would be like, the first new teacher in the school in a while, and as she was getting the ‘best class’, it was viewed as a Big Deal. Somewhere in like July or August we got a letter announcing Mrs. Stubel, and it came with a list of books to pick for the summer reading, and that was basically all the information we had.

So…the first day of class. She seems nice enough. Very…ditsy, I guess? It was very easy for her to get herself off topic while talking. She constantly paced around the room, never staying in one spot for longer than a second, complaining she has restless leg syndrome. Which like, I’m sure she did, but she was in the middle of introducing herself and then went on a 20 minute tangent about restless leg syndrome without anyone prompting her. It was almost like you could see her scattered thoughts flying around her head.

So anyone, she eventually gives somewhat of an introduction- she had only taught in public schools before, and kept worrying she ‘didn’t know’ how to teach in a Catholic school despite the entire class insisting literally nothing was different, you just teach the curriculum, twice a week we have religion class with Sister Mary King, that’s literally it (she still talked over us in worry), she told us about her kids, she told us about her obsession with Emily Dickinson, stuff like that.

And then she hands us this worksheet.

She’s like, “Oh, these are just some basic questions for you to answer! Just so I can get to know you guys better!” like in lieu of an icebreaker game, which is fine, but…the questions. The questions were all “What is your most haunting fear?”, “What is your deepest regret?”, “Have you ever experienced the pain of loss?”, “What was your worst injury?”, “What was your worst nightmare?”, all questions like that, and then on the back she wanted us to draw a gravestone and write out what we wanted our epitaph to be.

We were twelve year olds, mind you.

Oh my God and one girl missed the first day because of her grandmother’s funeral, so when she came the next day and saw what the teacher was insisting she do for homework, she almost had a panic attack? And the lady still made her do it? Literally who wants to think about death anymore at a time like that omfg.

Okay, so then we get to the summer reading book reports, right? Now, she had given a list of maybe, 20 books that you could pick from, read it, and then present an oral report on it. You had to have notecards and you had to be able to answer questions from the class at the end. All in all, I’ve had worse projects.

So, on this list, she apparently put Madeleine L’Engle’s entire book series on the list…only she did not make it known that this was a series and not multiple stand alone books, so when reports started up it caused mass-panic of kids trying to put together plot points and make connections on what the hell they had read.

I was the only kid in the class who had chosen to read “A Wrinkle In Time”, and that has since lead to a series of events that…really actually scares me, I’m still incredibly freaked out, I’m not going to get into it right now because it’ll take away from the current story, but just know that I’m not above wondering if it only happened because I read the book for Stubel.

Anyway, so like, I got through the report okay. The class asking questions about it was fine, but the teacher kept asking questions that didn’t make sense, like, at all. My friend Angie has always had super neat handwriting and Mrs. Stubel got like, obsessed with her notecards and asked if she could borrow them for something. When we got our grades back a few weeks later, Angie had points taken off for not having notecards.

And then her teaching just…didn’t happen. She’d never stay on a topic, she’d always get herself distracted! We were not learning anything. And like, this wasn’t a class of advanced smart kids that loved to learn. By all accounts we should’ve been thrilled. But it got out of hand. It got to points where we had to start teaching lessons to ourselves, asking teacher from other grades for help, always coming home in tears, complaining constantly to our parents and the principal because this woman wasn’t teaching us anything. There were two kids who asked her multiple times for extra help, and she told them each time to ‘talk to me after school’, but then she’d leave immediately after school so they wouldn’t be able to talk to her. They finally brought up the issue in the middle of class and she had a breakdown, yelling about how nobody ever thinks that maybe the teacher has a lot of work to do, and maybe she’s entitled to taking off early, but when we tried to argue she shouldn’t schedule meetings and then break them off in the name of relaxation, she stormed out of the room and tried to get the principal to give us detention. (Which, like, our school didn’t even do, and she was the only one in the wrong during this situation) We are still in September at this point, and already at least ten kids have parents considering transferring them to another school. (And remember, there was only 19 of us, and most of the class had been together since preschool, so that was a big deal).

Then, she starts coming in with all the weird bruises. All the Moms™ immediately started gossiping that her husband had to be beating her, and that’s why she was so screwy in the head. But the way she talked about her husband made it seem like he *might* be dead, and we actually did witness her fall and smack her head into a doorknob once, so no one really knew what to believe. (Also, I’m not trying to imply that abuse would make someone crazy or ‘damaged’ or anything, this is just what was being said. I think they were trying to turn her into a more sympathetic character, because if you feel sorry for her you don’t have to hate her for frustrating your kids so much, and Hate Is A Bad Emotion.)

Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.

She talked about Emily Dickinson every chance she could get. None of us knew who Emily Dickinson really was before she got there and you could see in her mind it was a capitol offense. She found out the curriculum didn’t have room to cover her (because like, we had a text book), and was way too upset about it. She started reading her poems whenever she found the time (usually somewhere in history class), and always gave us very detailed accounts about her dressing up as Emily and reading her poetry at the library.

Now, two things to note here:

  1. The library did not hire her to do this. She would literally just get in the mood, put on an Emily Dickinson costume that she made by herself, drive to different libraries, and just read poetry out loud to everyone there until someone eventually asked her to leave.
  2. The way she described these events…her tone, the look on her face, her posture…you could just tell that she was getting some sort of sexual gratification out of this? Like dressing up as Emily Dickinson in public and reading her sad poems is really what got this lady’s jollies rocking? Got her all hot and bothered? Which is…a lot, but why would you tell a bunch of seventh graders about it holy shit. What about that sounds like a good idea! What about that turns you back on!

So anyway, we learned a lot about Emily Dickinson against our will.

One of the Davids™ was reading a book for pleasure- which shouldn’t have been a shocker, a lot of kids always had books on them, but Stubel got really interested and asked if she could borrow it from him. He was like ‘sure, after I finish it?’ but she took it that day. He asked her for it back for like five weeks straight.

And…the strudels.

Okay, so the school was trying some dorky thing to promote ~togetherness~ or some virtue or something, I don’t remember the specifics of why, but each class had to make a huge themed poster and hang it on the wall outside the classroom. Which was like, whatever, not the most thrilling project but at least it allowed us to be productive vs just sitting there as the teacher runs about the room rambling about her family vacation from four years ago. Mrs. Stubel decided we needed a quirky nickname and after like three days of deliberation we were christened “Stubel’s Special Strudels”!

(points for alliteration or whatever, but no one actually voted for that and what exactly do strudels have to do with Catholicism? It became a big running joke amongst the kids)

Also, in case you were wondering, she didn’t explain the assignment correctly to us- so every other class had like these beautiful, artistic, well-themed and put together posters, while ours was just…literally a bunch of shit thrown together on paper. Nothing fit with each other, it was literally embarrassing to look at.

But then…she wouldn’t drop the strudel thing. Like she kept bringing it up. She got really into strudels and would just tell us random shit about them. Finally, someone jokes that we should get strudels one day for a party (like instead of a pizza party), and she’s Freaking Out and On Board. She really wants to buy us strudels and have a breakfast party now. She talked about it for like two days straight.

So like… you know in school when you would have a pizza party, usually the teacher would buy it? That’s how they always happened in my experience (not counting the last day of 10th grade when some kid had pizza delivered to the school for lunch but it didn’t get there until math class lol). But especially in grade school? Like if it wasn’t a PTA made party that’s super organized, the school would buy the food, right? Right?

Yeah, so she was like, if this is happening you guys need to give me the money. Just give me the money and then I’ll pick them up on my way to work!! And after some arguing some kids are on board. Strudels should only cost a couple dollars right?

And she’s like, oh no, I’m gonna get them from this high end bakery near my house so it’ll be special, but they’re not cheap and it’ll be a big order! I’m gonna need like fifteen dollars from each of you!

And at this point I’m just like…lady. Come on. 

But she keeps insisting. She’s not gonna go until every student in class pays up.

And I’m like…I’m poor. I don’t even like strudel.  And some of the less-naïve kids are siding with me.

And then she pulls that “you guys are just spoiling all the fun for your classmates” shit, like the naïve kids who already paid up, so it gets to the point where we just gotta cave and give her the money.

(I ended up stealing it out of my Crazy Bitch Aunt’s wallet so it’s whatever, I guess.)

And then of course, shockingly enough, every morning she was met with “where are the strudels?” and every morning she went wide eyed, slapped her forehead and yelled in embarrassed horror “I totally forgot! Tomorrow, guys, I promise!”

Honestly, with how scatterbrained and confused she always was…like to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty whether she hustled us or was just actually forgetting about the damn pastries, I choose to lean towards the hustled us side because that’s just the type of people I’m used to, but if I found out it was innocent forgetfulness I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.

She couldn’t handle more than one person talking at a time. Like, we’d have break periods, or group work, or something and all the talking made her go wide-eyed and batty. She’d look overworked and anxious and would be darting around the room trying to do work or something but she couldn’t focus and she’d yell at anyone who tried to talk to her directly. I remember one time she was using this boys desk for something so he asked “where am I supposed to sit?” and she snapped “Sit on the ceiling for all I care!”. And this kid was the Class Clown™ , so he immediately grabbed a chair in one hand and started climbing the bookcase to try and reach the ceiling. She’s standing right next to this and doesn’t even notice. He got all four chair legs planted on the ceiling and was trying to somehow maneuver his way into the chair (I really don’t know what the plan was exactly- he was really tall and it was a small building, so I think he probably had the idea that if he can get his body upside down and in the chair, and stretch out his arms like a hand-stand to hold onto bookcase, he could arguably sit on the ceiling.) but he slipped. Crashed into my desk and the two desks next to me, knocked over the book case, broke the chair in half and hit the desks with enough force to knock them down lower. It was hilarious. Everyone was loosing their shit cracking up (he was fine) and it still took Stubel like five minutes to notice his lying out across the desks right in front of her eyes. She was pissed but how did she miss any of it in the first place? She was barely being helpful in whatever it was she was trying to do.

This was the year the Phillies were going to the World Series, and all the grades were having a Phillies Rally in the cafeteria so a news crew was coming to the school and each class was supposed to come up with fun little cheers for them to broadcast. Multiple cheer ideas were presented to her and she vetoed all of them, someone even suggested just singing the damn eagles theme song with replaced words and calling it a day but she vetoed that too, she was very adamant that she could come up with a cheer all by herself and it’ll be the best one (whoever had the best cheer was winning like an ice cream day or something idk). And then like…literally five minutes before the rally she just hands us signs with the letters and was like ‘we’re just gonna spell out Phillies it will be cute won’t it my strudels???’. We were the weakest class there, predictably. I think we lost to the kindergarteners. There might still be a video online of me yelling “ i “ passionately at the top of my lungs. It was online bc our cheer was so bland the news crew cut it out of the broadcast.

I literally can’t say enough about how she never taught us anything. She’d be going on some tangent about how she doesn’t understand the science behind skiing, and I’d be like “Okay yes but please can you just tell me where Romania is on a map???” And she’d start fights whenever someone actually wanted to learn. It was so easy to get her angry but so hard for her to stay on topic. Kids started teaching the class themselves! Like seriously, she’d be rambling and one of us would just go up to the podium, open the teacher’s guide textbook and just start reading out loud and talking over her. By the time she noticed we’d be halfway through a lesson. And we understood it better than when she tried! You know something’s wrong when pre-teens are more qualified for a job than an adult who supposedly went to school for this.

We were in the church having run-throughs for our upcoming Confirmation and she almost set the church on fire…fifteen different times. In less than half an hour. How hard is it to hold a candle?

Okay, and here’s when stuff starts kicking up. It was October 28th, a Tuesday, and it was our last day of school that week because they were having parent-teacher conferences the rest of the week. So we were just hanging out, watching movies in class and reading (lord knows we weren’t learning), and Stubel calls me over to her desk.

So like, she had given everyone little bags with candy for Halloween, but I get up there and she hands me an extra one. And she’s like “Molly I know your birthday is tomorrow and I bought you a present but I left it on my coffee table this morning by accident! So just have the candy for now!”

And I’m like….”Ma’am I’m like, the sixth birthday this year. You didn’t give anyone else presents?”

And she goes “Oh, I know but this is a special secret surprise. I just know you’re gonna love it! Do you wanna stop by my house later this week to pick it up or should I just give it to you Monday after school?”

And like…In writing this sounds like a non-threatening exchange, and like, it was, but I felt so uncomfortable holy shit. I’m looking over my shoulder and shooting my friends SOS signals. Something about this felt so weird in my gut omfg. I told her thanks and I’d just see her Monday.

So we flash forward to Wednesday- my 13th birthday, the day the Phillies won the world series, and also the day my mother innocently strolled into the school for her meeting only to be met with screaming, the sound of heavy destruction, and the school secretary Mrs. Daily running at her in a panic, waving her arms and yelling “YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED GET IN MY OFFICE NOW!”

So my poor mother, who thought she could handle this whole meeting in a few minutes and barely be an hour late for work, is now barricaded in the front office with the school secretary, as the noises from down the hall get louder and louder. The woman explains that they had gotten so many complaints about Mrs. Stubel that this morning, when she got to the school, the principal Sister Patricia called her in and said “Listen, we need you to be professional and still have the parent conferences, but we have to let you go. We just don’t think you fit in well here, and the kids need to come first and feel comfortable in their school.” and like, I’m paraphrasing because I wasn’t there, but we all know she was very polite and professional about it.

Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.

She flipped her chair and stormed out of the office, and locks herself in the seventh grade classroom. She started wrecking the shit out of that place, screaming obscenities and the top of her lungs, they had to call the cops on her! She was locked in there for almost an hour! And let me just give you a nice little list of everything she did in that classroom:

  • Smashed three windows.
  • Threw everything off her desk and carved swear words all over it.
  • Got cleaning fluid that she knew would damage the chalk boards, smeared it all over.
  • Cracked the chalk boards by repeatedly smashing chairs against them.
  • Wrote swear words all over the walls and on desks
  • Went into students desks, ripped up their books.
  • Stole my glasses. (which were in my desk bc I only used them in class at the time)
  • Threw some desks around.
  • Carved swear words into the boards. (there was so much carving I’m assuming she just had a knife on her person, which has to lead to the question, did she have a knife on her while she was in class with us?)
  • Physically ripped the hooks to hang backpacks on out of the wall.
  • Knocked the closet door off it’s hinges.
  • Ripped up all the books in the bookcases and threw their pages all around the room.
  • Wrote lewd phrases inside student’s desks.
  • Broke multiple chairs.
  • Used her podium as a battering ram against the wall that’s in front of where the backpacks go. (the wall won but Damage Was Inflicted)
  • Set a fire in the trash can.
  • When the principal and other teachers started trying to get in, she tossed her rolling chair at the door to scare them off.
  • She was screaming curse words at the top of her lungs the entire time, and cursing the school and the kids and the principal and the church in general, and the school building was small, so all the parents and the smaller children that had to come to the meetings (who were locked in their respective classrooms in fear) heard everything.
  • So much more? But it’s 4:30 in this morning and this list is already long.

So my mom is in the front office and deadass the

entire police force

shows up, running down the hallway to the classroom yelling at her to stop, and it takes a while for them to get her out holy shit. They knocked down the door and she tried to escape out of one of the broken windows! But they got her and dragged her out.

So of course, in such a small school with very involved parents this shit spread like wildfire. The entire town knew within the day. The poor principal called the newly retired old-seventh grade teacher and was like “So we…need some help” and the lady was like “I already heard I’ll be there Monday” omfg. I remember I got a text from one of my classmates saying “if your birthday wish was for us to be set free from the beast I love you” omfg.

So, we eventually go back to school on Monday and everyone’s buzzing. The principal has us go to the cafeteria and she ‘delicately’ explains the situation, and that the old teacher is coming out of retirement for us, the school has a restraining order against Mrs. Stubel now and that she’s sorry we had to deal with this mess. Our classroom had to go under some heavy reconstruction before we could be let back in there, so for like two weeks we alternated between the cafeteria and the preschooler’s classroom, we had no books or anything, just provided loose-leaf paper and pens. It was like, surreal, but everyone was just so happy to be rid of her and to be in the presence of a competent teacher omfg. We eventually were able to get back into our usual classroom.

  1. It took a while for things to go completely back to normal, though. After the big spectacle she made, for weeks after she was fired we were all very scared of the possibility of Mrs. Stubel returning to the school with a gun in hand. It was always a topic we whispered about at lunch with wide eyes and shivers. Like…genuine nightmare scenario.
  2. About two weeks after she was fired, a boy in the back of the classroom gasped loudly during SSR, and when we all looked at him, he whispered in anger “She never gave us our freakin’ strudels!”
  3. About three months after she was fired, we were lined up at the door to go to Library when a few of us looked through the windows and saw something darting through the trees. It was fast and we couldn’t make anything out, so we let it drop. When the class and teacher returned half and hour later, the book she had borrowed months before from one of the boys was sitting on his desk. It was just laying there, the room was silent, nothing had been disturbed…but I have never seen a book look so threatening. People were freaking out. Someone kept insisting that she turned the book into a bomb. No one figure out how she got in the school, and no one could figure out how she got it on the right desk, as we had switched the seating arrangement since she had last been there.  
  4. A full six months after she had left, it was nearing the end of the school year and our class was dicking around during our last computer class. Someone found a website (that we weren’t allowed to be on) that pulls up any police records attached to whoever’s name you enter, so someone decided to search Mrs. Stubel as a joke. We ended up finding out she had like six DUI’s.

Aaaaand that’s the story of the horrendous teacher I had for two months in 7th grade. One of my favorite party stories but tbh she still haunts me™ .

His || Jungkook || 0.14

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13 | 0.14

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

How about a semi angsty fight with the rfa+V but they make up because HAPPY ENDINGS ARE NICE

I’m a slut for angst don’t give me this power 

Yoosung: 

✮ you had accidentally knocked the power cord to his computer while you were cleaning and he was playing LOLOL 
✮ he screamed 
✮ he was ranting and raving about how he was in the middle of an important raid and he was so close to levelling up 
✮ and you’re kinda standing there with a laundry basket and a pile of clothes almost over your head 
✮ and you don’t know what to do 
✮ you kind of want to cry 
✮ you kind of want to throw the laundry at his head 
✮ until 
✮ “rika never did things like this!!”
✮ oh 
✮ of course
✮ it somehow always got back to this point. comparing you with rika 
✮ sometimes he didn’t mean it or even realise he’d done it. but this was different 
✮ you remain eerily calm, putting the laundry down before turning to glare at yoosung 
✮ a wave of realisation hits him and he’s just full of guilt 
✮ you very calmly tell him you’re going to spend the night with jaehee, and ask him not to contact you 
✮ he begins crying and pleading with you to stop and stay 
✮ he’s so sorry and he’s just hating himself while you pack an overnight bag
✮ he’s practically on his knees and following you, begging you to stay 
✮ you kind of pause when you see the raw sorrow in his face 
✮ you sigh and stop for a moment 
✮ you’re hurt but you know that you have to talk it out with yoosung for it to get better 
✮ you both talk for a few hours, and he completely understands your viewpoint and he apologises 18923475829 times 
✮ he stays off of LOLOL for a few weeks, and even after that he tries not to get too obsessed– because that’s how the whole problem started 
✮ he just doesn’t want to lose you 

Jaehee: 

✎ you just wanted her to stop working so much 
✎ she was working overtime at the cafe 
✎ so much that she practically lived there 
✎ she was there after-hours and before-hours 
✎ sometimes she slept there and wouldn’t come home 
✎ so you book a holiday for her in secret, making plans behind her back for the cafe so it can function without her
✎ you tell all the employees and the deliverers who are close with the shop 
✎ but when you sit jaehee down and announce your plan 
✎ she gets so cold 
✎ she wants none of it 
✎ she’s not overworking herself dammit 
✎ she’s just doing what needs to be done 
✎ you try telling her that she doesn’t need to coddle the cafe, that you and the other emplyees were fully capable of running it 
✎ but she’s so worked up 
✎ and she says that you can’t 
✎ you’re clearly offended and you’re upset that your hard work planning this holiday for her is being pushed aside 
✎ somehow, you get her to take the holiday and see how it pans out 
✎ she’s calling you constantly 
✎ eventually you start ignoring her calls and texts 
✎ she gets so freaked out that the cafe is literally crumbling with you in charge so she rushes home 
✎ and you’re so mad when she rushes into the cafe, only to stop when she sees everything is going as usual 
✎ “b-but you weren’t answering my calls! I thought something happened!” 
✎ “jaehee i was ignoring you because you have no trust in me and I was busy making sure you could enjoy your holiday!” you were screaming 
✎ she felt so bad 
✎ she took her vacation and came back a lot better 
✎ you two made up, and she explained that her problem came from being jumin’s assistant for so long (if she didn’t do her job everything fucked up bc jumin is horrible at his job lmao) 
✎ she was a lot more calm after that and took breaks when she needed to (even took some time off on every second weekend- when you took care of the cafe) 

Zen: 

✿ he was working 
✿ of course 
✿ his job was the root of most of your arguments as a couple 
✿ but this time he had gone out for drinks with the cast 
✿ while you were standing outside of a restaurant waiting for him- you were going to have a date since filming was wrapping up that day (which is why the cast was having drinks in the first place) 
✿ you had faith in him, and stayed there until the restaurant closed 
✿ which was very, very late in the evening, seeing as it was part bar 
✿ as you were walking home, upset 
✿ zen came stumbling out of the bar with his castmates 
✿ he doesn’t notice you at first 
✿ until one of his acting buddies points at you, not recognising you, and laughs about how you’re soaked in rain and look like you’ve had that worst day of your life 
✿ you hear him 
✿ zen chuckles slightly before looking closer and realising who it is 
✿ swears up a storm as he pushes away everyone- muttering out something like ‘ssss my girlfirendddd’ 
✿ he tries to grab you because you’re storming away 
✿ he’s trying to coo and ask you why you were out so late because he’s drunk and doesn’t remember 
✿ you slap his hands away before screaming at him 
✿ “I was waiting for you! Our date for celebrating the end of filming?! Guess you had other plans, huh?!” 
✿ he’s so shocked like 
✿ it looks like he’s been smacked in the face 
✿ he follows you all the way home, apologising profusely 
✿ you make him sleep on the couch and lock yourself in the bedroom 
✿ when he wakes up the next morning he remembers, even through his wicked hangover 
✿ he cooks an amazing breakfast and waits for you to come out 
✿ when you do he hands you flowers with a card about how sorry he is
✿ he swears that he’ll make it up to you- and never let it happen ever again 

Jumin: 

₩ he was planning on properly introducing you to his father 
₩ but he was getting so controlling 
₩ he literally dressed you and did your hair and practically gave you a lecture on how to act and what to say 
₩ you’re kind of pissed at him but try to understand that he’s just stressed about how his father will react 
₩ his father loves you, and you loosen up- begin to be yourself 
₩ his father leaves after blessing your relationship together 
₩ but jumin is fuming 
₩ ‘what were you doing?! I told you not to say this or that’ blah blah 
₩ you’re just so shocked 
₩ “jumin that’s not who I am!” 
₩ “that’s who you should be!” 
₩ silence. 
₩ jumin has never been afraid of anything 
₩ but he’s afraid of this silence and the tears that are slipping down your cheeks 
₩ he’s afraid of what he said. he’s afraid of himself 
₩ he stumbles over his words as he tries to apologise, saying that isn’t what he meant 
₩ you can’t hear him though, all you can hear is his previous words echoing through your head 
₩ you tell him you’re sleeping in the guest room that night- the only thing you said before locking him out 
₩ when you get up the next morning 
₩ you open the door and see jumin sitting on the ground agains the wall next to your door, elizabeth pulled to his chest 
₩ his eyes were puffy and his cheeks and nose red 
₩ he had a note next to him that he hadn’t finished 
₩ it read ‘I’m sorry’ over and over, tear stains smudging some of the letters 
₩ you sigh, and kneel down to wake him up 
₩ he explains that he thought his father wouldn’t accept you unless you were like the other women and he didn’t want his father to come between your relationship anymore than he already had with the Sarah bullshit 
₩ and you make up but he spends so long reassuring you that he loves you so much, just the way you are 

Seven/Saeyoung: 

✞ he was doing it again
✞ he was trying to push you away 
✞ someone had approached you while you were on the street, asking about a ‘707′ 
✞ when you told saeyoung he got so scared and reverted back to his old ways 
✞ trying to push you away so that you ‘wouldn’t get hurt’ 
✞ when you try to kiss his cheek he physically pushes you away (after acting hostile all day) 
✞ and you trip over his wires and fall- hitting your head on the ground 
✞ he’s shocked, you’re shocked 
✞ he reaches forward to try and help you but freezes when you flinch away 
✞ he feels like less than shit 
✞ he feels like death himself. the grim reaper- that’s him. 
✞ he watches helplessly as you stumble to your feet and rush off to the bedroom, locking yourself inside (even though Saeyoung had control over the locks) 
✞ he spends about an hour just leaning over his desk with his head in his hands, thinking over how terrible he had been 
✞ how you deserve so much better 
✞ he was unstable. he was dangerous. 
✞ you were the light. you were everything 
✞ after a while he unlocks the door and sends your robot-cat in with flowers and a note in his mouth 
✞ it’s a handwritten letter from saeyoung, telling you he was just scared 
✞ that he was so sorry. that he loved you more than he could ever understand and he didn’t know how to deal with that yet 
✞ you slowly walk out, seeing him sitting on the ground somewhere, surrounded by the mess that he’d made 
✞ he had thrown all the cushions and pillows on the couch. ripped up the first drafts of the note. he’d even knocked one of his monitors to the ground, shattering it.
✞ you sit with him and talk together 
✞ you make a plan for how you can both deal with these times better 
✞ he promises to spend his life making sure you’re as happy as you can be 

V/Jihyun:

☼ i’m so sorry but i don’t want to hurt this precious roll 

anonymous asked:

Soulmate AU where your soulmark doesn't only symbolise your soulmate, but also how you'll realise that they are your soulmate. (because unlike the romace novels it isn't always "bond" at first sight, sometimes it takes YEARS to discover what was there all along). Now imagine Stiles so obsessed with his very-much everlasting state of virginity because of his bite mark on his chest and HELLO what else could that mean. (part 2 in the next ask)

Part 2: Or imagine derek trying everything to get rid of his mark, because the bullet shaped mark was the reason his young naive self approached the argents, and KATE, in the first place. And we all know how that went.

The water was cold as it splashed on his face – cold and refreshing – and his hands stayed pressed against his face for a long minute, his eyes closed and a tired sigh leaving him. Slowly, Derek dropped his hands from his face and grabbed the edges of the sink. He hesitated before finally lifting his gaze to the mirror in front of him.

His eyes, blank with a hint of sadness and bags heavy underneath them, found the bullet shaped mark slightly to the left of the center of his chest immediately.

Derek had been five when his mom had sat him down and told him about soulmates and soulmarks for the first time. And because of his soulmark, it had also been when he was told of hunters and how he needed to be careful. More careful than any of his siblings and any of his friends.

He had been five and hadn’t listened. He hadn’t listened when he was thirteen either, nor when he was sixteen and approached the woman he thought he was his soulmate.

It had been years – long and painful years – and he had yet to forgive himself for that. He doubted he ever would,and looking at his soulmark made him feel sick to his stomach.

Keep reading

Sunday Morning

Summary: A young man and a young woman run into one another on a Sunday morning at a coffee shop, both of them heartbroken, and rediscover what it means to love and be loved. Bucky x Reader 

 Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this one for a bit. It’s basically the feel-good romance no one ever expected me to write (me included) 

 Words: ~2900

Originally posted by writingandcoffeehouse

Bucky used to love Sunday mornings. They were meant for sleeping in, for curling against the soft, tender body that slept next to him.

They’d had five years of Sunday mornings, of her soft sighs in his ear as she stirred from her sleep, bright green eyes blinking sleepily up at him as he kissed her plush, pink lips. Five years of Sunday mornings, of making coffee in a pair of boxers; of her arms wrapping around him from behind, a soft cheek against his bare back. Five years of Sunday mornings, of sitting at the breakfast bar in their pajamas, her thumb wiping jelly off the corners of his mouth.

Five years of Sunday mornings, wasted.

Keep reading

Open To Interpretation: Negan x Reader

Originally posted by jdm-negan-mcnaughty

A/N: Ya’ll. I’m so fuckin’ swamped in responsibility. I feel a lil guilty about coming back with something non-Rami but fuck it. Some other things I wanna say: Send me anything. Send me asks. I wanna answer you guys’ questions. Be nosy as hell. Also, I have something you might be interested in coming up after my birthday which is in like 2 weeks. Please feel free to request more Negan stuff, I’m branching out bitches.

Masterlist 

Warnings: Inappropriate teacher/student relationship (student is of legal age in the US and UK), smut, the usual. Also, I wrote the character a little more like myself bc I feel like I keep writing the same kind of reader and its getting tedious. Hit my inbox if this is you af. ALSO HIT MY INBOX IF YOU’VE EVER HAD ANY KIND OF TEACHER/STUDENT RELATIONSHIP? SPILL THE TEA I’M NOSY.

Word count: 4448  


“Preserving innocent life, orderly living in society, worshipping god, educating children, and reproducing.” His deep, gravelly voice fills the lecture hall. All his students are enraptured, a rare thing for many teachers. He pauses before continuing. “What are the issues with these precepts that Aquinas put forward?”

You bite your lip anxiously. Answering questions in class isn’t an issue for you, in fact your teachers often tell you to give the other students a chance, but your Philosophy and Ethics professor makes you somewhat nervous. Tall, late forties, gorgeous black beard with silver streaks and piercing hazel eyes. The recipe for a crippling medley of anxiety and attraction.

Despite this, impressing him and getting your grade is often the reason you manage to pluck up the courage to respond to his queries, his opinion of you is something you are very conscious of. You glance around the room to see no one has raised their hand. You decide to take one for the team, slowly lifting your arm from the desk.

Keep reading

Burden of Proof

Word Count: 2357

Request: “ Thought; spontaneously dragging Steve of Bucky into random makeout sessions throughout the day and then just leaving him out of breath as you continue in with your business” And a very pleasant thought it is. 

Warning: Language, making out, and utter ridiculousness

A/N: I had more free time than I anticipated, so you’re getting this early. You have the snow storm to thank for this nonsense.

Steve Version

Originally posted by itsjustmycrazyvibe

“Ow ow ow ow ow!” you groaned through clenched teeth as Natasha dragged you through the halls and over the bodies of the incapacitated Hydra agents.

“Hush! There could still be some stragglers hanging around,” she hissed at you, readjusting her hold in order to pull you along more quickly.

“Well if you hadn’t been there to pull me out of the way, that delightful bullet would have definitely silenced me for good. You have only yourself to blame.”

Keep reading

Hate That I Love You (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Angst and smut.
Word count: 2.3k 

Summary: “I hate you.” You mumbled again as you bit your lip, trying anything to get him to have a fit and storm off, but of course, that wasn’t it — that just got him angrier. 
“I’m gonna get you to take that back.” He said in a low tone, pulling his t-shirt over his head before unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans quickly. 

➸ Song: Hate That I Love You.


Keep reading

Jealousy pt.1

Originally posted by nnochu

•Bad language
•Reader x Jungkook
•Filthy, filthy smut
•Took me ages writing this
•Daddy kink
•I’m going to hell for this
•Dirty talk
•Rough, against the wall sex

Don’t take the comments seriously, its just a joke, I don’t wish to purposely insult bts

Summary: Taehyung is jealous of your relationship with Jungkook, Kook reminds you who you really belong too

Keep reading

Temptation (M)

A one-shot for a lovely anon. Enjoy it mate ;)

Moodboard

Jungkook and Reader

Genre: Werewolf! Jungkook, smut

Word count: 4,126 words

~•~•~•~

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Jungkook!”

No answer.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Jungkook!”

Still no answer. You didn’t care that an old lady walking behind you gave you a very dirty look before shuffling down the corridor to her own apartment. It was only the manners instilled by your parents that stopped you from shooting daggers right back at her.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“JEON JUNGKOOK! Open the fucking door right now or I -”

Your shouts as well as your fist froze in mid-air when the door whipped open to reveal the man whose name you’d been yelling at the top of your lungs.

“Why the hell are you banging my door down?” Jungkook’s frown and his tone told you that he was irritated, which fueled your anger even more. He had no right to be annoyed at you after the shit he had put you through today.

“Why weren’t you at work?” You managed to lower your volume now that there wasn’t a door separating the two of you, but you made sure that he knew how angry you were.

“I took a day off, but I’m sure you could have gotten that information from the HR.”

His flippant answer didn’t impress you one bit. “You know that isn’t what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?” The question came out sounding incredulous, but you didn’t miss the uncomfortable shuffling of the guilty man. He knew what you were talking about. Before you could point it out, however, a high-pitched woman’s voice called from inside his apartment.

“Who’s at the door, babe? Come back to bed, I can’t wait anymore!”

Keep reading

Sweater Weather

Jughead x Reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Request: Can you do an imagine where Jughead breaks up with the reader and she doesn’t go  to school for a couple of days and when she returns she’s a mess wearing joggers and something of Jugheads.

Warnings: none/fluff/possible swearing

Summary: Based on the Neighbourhood Sweater Weather, Jughead breaks the readers heart, she’s a mess and when he sees what he’s done he realises it was a mistake.

Originally posted by juptern

Keep reading

Let's Pretend (Bucky Barnes x Reader) Pt. 2

A/N: I finally did it! I finished part 2. Thank y’all so much for all the feedback it means so much to me (‘: also, I put a little Easter egg in here. There’s another marvel character mentioned in here that surfs Let’sPretend, let’s see if y'all can find them. (; (also, tags are open too!)

Warnings: Smut, Pornography, graphic details of sex, swearing. Alcohol.


Bucky knew this was wrong on so many levels. What he was doing was a complete invasion of your privacy, he knew that, but he still found himself staring at the neon purple background of Let’sPretend.com. He was lying back on the mountains of pillows he owned, the laptop Steve got him for Christmas was perched on his lap, illuminating his half nude body with purple fluorescent light.

He felt guilty, but he found himself in some weird sexual awakening since he saw the picture of you spread out underneath him, legs spread like an invitation. Bucky found himself replaying the images over and over again in his mind. Most of all, he found himself thinking about your reaction to the video. He was trained to read people’s body language (which he swore he’d never do again) and it was a habit he tried to suppress.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t help but notice how your legs squeezed together as you sat on the stool. The way you subconsciously licked your lips at the sight of him topless. And the way your eyes dilated. Those were telltale signs you liked what you saw, even if you didn’t want to admit it, but that gave him no right to do what he was currently doing.

He started off by reading the comments underneath the video first. He expected some vulgar, repulsive words from creepy old men, which is what he usually saw on porn sites. But instead he was surprised with something he never expected. There were actual fans. And by fans, he meant there were a shit ton of people of all ages (legal of course) and not one vulgar comment. Most of them were about you and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him smile.


Mr.Marvel1995:
“OMG XD Y/N IS SO PERF! <3”


BBYGURL140:
“I hope they do this in real life (;”


WinterBabexoxo:
“She’s so friggin’ lucky! I want a Bucky!! )’:”


WadeWilson1982:
“I’d give my left arm to be in a WinterY/N sandwich. Kms.”


NaniBearxoxo:
“Jesus that man is sexi AF. *faints*”


CookieThumper87:
“WinterY/N 4ever! ^_^”

He ended up clicking onto the next page, where he was met with more comments by fans. Some were on the creepy side, others were quite flattering, and some were just plain adorable. These people didn’t see him as a monster or a freak like most did. They saw him as desirable, which he truly thought would never happen again. What caught him off guard the most was the undying fascination with his metal arm. It took up almost a third of the comments.

At some point, he found himself on your videos.
There were at least a hundred in total. They ranged from solo shots, to something called “girl on girl”, which confused him at first, but the second he curiously clicked on the video and saw you and Wanda making out violently, he instantly understood. You had videos with almost everyone in the tower.

There were ones of you and Steve, which he may or may not have bookmarked to uh…save for later. There were ones of you and Nat, some of you and Sam (he’s never cringed so hard in his life) which nearly made him break the screen. He found it deeply disturbing that some people actually liked the videos of you and Tony. He was like an uncle to you. Bucky completely stayed away from the ones with you and Vision. Those would probably give him nightmares.

However, he still found that people liked the two of you together the most regardless. They had a special name for you, too. Princess Y/N, they called you. He was known as simply the Winter Soldier, which did disappoint him a bit. He discovered the term “shipping” and something called “one true pair” that the people on the site talked about. He’d never admit it out loud, but he felt a sense of pride that these people favored him out of all the others when it came to you.

With a deep breath, he clicked on the play button.

The camera immediately cut to Y/N on the same bed from before. Her pastel colored camisole was practically see through, just enough to show the audience the outline of her breasts. She let out a playful giggle as she raised her leg in the air, giving the camera a view of her barely clothed core. Bucky felt arousal hit him like a train when he spotted a small dampened area on her panties. As if on cue, she started singing lowly. Jesus, she even sounded like the real Y/N.


“Happy birthday to me…” she sung, while slowly teasing her nipple with her fingers.


“Happy birthday to me…“ Bucky felt his erection growing harder with each word. His eyes followed her hand as it trailed past her stomach and rested on her clothed core.


“Happy Birthday, Y/N,” she let out a whimper when she began slowly tracing her clit through her panties. Any self control Bucky once had, had jumped out the window. In a second, he slipped off his boxers and gripped his aching member with his flesh hand and began pumping slowly.

“You’re starting without me, doll?”

The deep voice caused a shiver down Bucky’s spine, forcing him to stop pumping his cock. The camera suddenly turned to a fully clothed Winter Soldier I’m the doorway of the room, his blue eyes staring Y/N in an animalistic way. He stalked over to the bed and towered over her.

“Tsk, Tsk, Tsk. What is rule number one?” he asks, gripping her legs and yanking her to the edge of the bed. A playful giggle came from her mouth, and God, Bucky found it the hottest thing on this earth.

She smiled up at the Winter Soldier through her long lashes. “Rule number one,” she says. “This pussy belongs to The Winter Soldier.”

He slipped his metal hand down one of her thighs and gave the flesh there a little smack, a moan escaped her trembling lips.

“Looks like you broke the rules, sugar,” he says huskily. “And you know what that means?”

“I need to be punished!” She replied, licking her lips and winking at the camera.

In a flash, he flipped her onto her stomach, her legs dangling off the bed so the camera had a perfect view of that her ass. In one swift motion, he took his mask off, revealing an identical face that belonged to Bucky Barnes himself.

It was by far the most erotic thing Bucky’s ever seen and despite his conscious screaming at him to shut off his computer and bathe in holy water, he found himself harder than he’s ever been in his life. It wasn’t even five minutes and his swollen member was leaking precum all over his thighs. He was definitely going to hell. But if this is what he’ll was like, then he’d gladly go willingly.

The Winter Soldier gently placed the black mask onto her face, and she made a sound somewhere in between a whimper and a groan. Her hands were pulled behind her back and held there by his metal hand while he pulled out a pair of metal handcuffs. With a sublet click, the metal was around her wrists, binding them together.

He let out an amused chuckle at the sight before him. Y/N pushed her ass against his clothed groin in a poor attempt at getting some friction. She peered over her shoulder at him and tried to speak, but the only sounds that escaped were nothing but muffles from the mask. Bucky groaned at the sight of her wearing his mask. He’d never be able to see it the same and NOT get a raging erection.

Her eyes widened with joy when he finally began unbuttoning his black pants and slid them down his toned thighs. Her thighs trembled with anticipation as he gripped his swollen cock and slowly pumped it with his metal hand, going as far as teasing her clothed entrance with the tip. Her head plopped into the pillows in front of her.

“Rule number two,” he says to the camera with a smirk. “Good things come to sluts who wait.”

In one move, he pulled her panties to the side, ripping the material away and thrust inside her. Y/N cried out in pleasure through the mask, pushing her hips back with each thrust.

“Oh fuck, baby. You like that?” He asks through gritted teeth. She whimpers a reply and nods, her eyes wild with pleasure. The only thing that’s audible is the dirty sounds of skin against skin, along with the Winter Soldier’s grunts.

Bucky was hypnotized by the way his cock glides in and out of her hole, glistening with her juices. He pumps himself faster, groaning loudly when he hears her muffled cries. He was enchanted by the way her moans grew louder with each thrust. He tried to imagine what she’d feel like. The tightness of her walls around him as he hits that special place inside her. Would she whimper like in the video? Or was she a screamer? He prays that she’s the latter.

Suddenly, she’s flipped onto her back again. Her little party hat dangled to the side dangling almost completely off her head. The Winter Soldier smiled down at her sinisterly before pulling out of her and pressing the tip against her pussy.

“Does Princess Y/N want her gift here?” He asks, teasing his tip against her folds. “Or here?” He pulls away and pressed his cock against the puckered ring of muscle of her ass. Bucky lets out a string of curses at the sight of her glistening holes. With a small whimper, she pressed her ass against his cock; all while staring up at him with the most innocent smile.

The sound she made as he thrust into her nearly pushed Bucky over the edge. His hips bucked into his fist, precum spilling from his tip and onto his toned stomach. No matter how good it felt, he knew deep down inside that it was nowhere near as good as the real Y/N.

Finally, the Winter Soldier removed the mask from her face. The camera zoomed in on her swollen red lips. “Oh, daddy, I’m gonna come!” She moaned. He placed his hands on the inside of her thighs and pinned them down into the mattress, the angle allowed him to thrust deeper inside her, making her scream out in pure euphoria.

“You like how Daddy fucks you, doll?” He grunts. His thrusts are stuttering against her hips and Bucky can tell he’s getting closer. She slips one of her hands between them and shakily began rubbing her clit in circles.

It doesn’t take long before she became a complete mess, her entire body trembling from the intense orgasm that was near. Her eyes are set on his blue ones as he drilled into her. She chanted his name like a prayer and Bucky wished he could make the real Y/N do the same.

Bucky’s metal hand cupped his balls and began massaging and tugging them in time with his flesh hand. The sensations created a sweet pleasure that made his eyes roll back. He’s sweating everywhere, but he doesn’t give a single damn. He’s so close, so fucking close and by the sounds of it so was she.

XXXXXXXXX

It was past midnight when you finally left Wanda’s room. No matter how much you drank, you couldn’t escape the embarrassing events that had occurred to you earlier that day. Wanda, however, had managed to go far beyond her limit. You giggled drunkenly at the memory of the woman passed out in her bedroom, the empty bottle of alcohol still in her hand.

You were way past tipsy, but still able to walk. Somehow you had made it down the long corridors without passing out or running into anything, which is what usually happened when you drank.

You were almost to your room when you heard a strangled cry. It wasn’t super loud, but enough to penetrate through a door. Following the direction it came from, you heard another, followed by a string of profanities. Whoever it was, they sounded like they were in pain. Your drunken mind tried it’s best to register this situation clearly. Who was even awake at this hour?

That’s how you ended up outside of Bucky’s room. You were positive the cries were coming from there. You knew about his nightmares, everyone did. They occurred almost every night and Steve had advised everyone to just ignore them and give Bucky his space. And everyone did just that. Nobody ever bothered him about it.

But these didn’t sound like typical night terrors. They sounded like something else completely. What if he was in trouble? Or dying? You couldn’t live with yourself if that were the case. With a turn of the doorknob, you peeked your head in and whispered his name softly; hoping it was just another bad dream.

You expected a lot of things. You expected Bucky to be in bed, thrashing around violently as he fought back against the imaginary foe in his dreams. You expected him to be shouting pleas of mercy or even Steve’s name. You even expected to be thrown out as soon as he woke up.

Bucky wasn’t in trouble at all. In fact, it looked like he was having a really good time.

The room was pitch black except for the purple glow of his laptop that was on his bed. He was lying back, the sheets pushed off the bed completely. He was nude with the exception of his black boxers that were pushed down to his knees as he furiously pumped his large cock with his flesh hand. Your eyes widened at the sight of it. You were no virgin and you’d seen your share of the male anatomy, but Bucky Barnes was big.

The tip was an angry red and you felt your mouth watering each time he ran his thumb over the head, collecting precum. His metal hand was massaging his balls, tugging on them gently. The groans he let out made the wetness between your legs grow. He had no shame either. He sounded just like the man in the video.

You curiously glanced at the porn video that was on the laptop and instantly filled with shock. The cries weren’t coming from Bucky, but from…you. He was watching the vid from earlier. And by the looks of it, he was enjoying it.

“Y/N!” He gasped, pumping himself faster. Hearing your name fall from his lips awoken something in you. You were practically dripping in your jeans and you contemplated whether on not to touch yourself right there.

Suddenly, the fake Y/N let out a scream of pleasure and you watched as the fake Bucky emptied himself inside of her with a loud groan.

“Ah, Y/N!” Bucky shouted as he came, coating his fist in his come. Your heart hammered in your chest as you watched.

Your first instinct was to run, so that’s what you did. You initially planned to close the door quietly and run to your room, but the alcohol in your system made that hard for you. Instead of closing the door quietly like you planned, you slammed the it shut. Creating a big echo that traveled down the corridors.

To make it worse, the sleeve to your hoodie got caught on the handle from the inside.

You desperately tried to yank it free, but ended up making the door slam against the wall loudly instead. Anxiety filled your body as you heard the sounds of drawers opening and closing from inside the room. No matter how hard you pulled or tugged, it just created more noise.

Suddenly, you heard the door open and you flew back from the force, landing on your ass with a thud.

Above you, stood a sweaty and fully clothed Bucky Barnes in the doorway.

You were so dead.

Tag list:
@seb-smut

You’re In Love With Him But He Likes Your Best Friend: Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


“Out!”

It’s the first thing Y/n wakes up to, Savannah’s outraged voice echoing along the walls of Y/n’s bedroom.

Y/n groans, squinting her eyes open at the sudden movement of her bed shaking wildly.

Savannah’s pulling the stranger out of Y/n’s bed, her merciless hands continuously pushing him out the bedroom door. He’s half awake, his slumberous daze making him scramble as he attempts to throw his clothes back on.

“Fuckin’ Jesus” the unknown man grumbles, his eyes still half closed from the immense amount of alcohol he consumed the previous night.

Savannah remains relentless, despite his attempt to get fully dressed. He even falls at one point, when he hops on one foot to get his leg through his jeans, but she doesn’t stop for a second.

You, get out of here!” she demands, her hand giving him one last shove out the door before she slams it shut.

Y/n groans again, her sensitivity to anything other than complete darkness and silence making her throw the duvets over her head and bury her face in her pillow. She’s well aware that she has to embrace the very few seconds she has of total peace and quiet before Savannah begins to lecture her for the irresponsibility she just walked into.

She’s only able to reunite with darkness for a split second before Savannah pulls the covers completely off of her, bringing her back into the horrifying sunlight.

Y/n falls off the bed, letting out a groan as her still slightly intoxicated body makes contact with the wooden floor. Her hungover state is making it nearly impossible to figure out the chaos unraveling in the room; all she can really understand is the pounding in her head and the burning in her eyes every time she exposes them from their lids.

She rolls over onto her back, huffing as her fingers dig into her eyelids. She coughs, her abrupt movements making her stomach flip with every turn she makes. She’s given no time to recover before Savannah rips her arms away from her face, gripping onto her wrists as she pulls Y/n off of the floor.

“What the fuck is going on here, Y/n?!” Savannah yells, eyes glaring at Y/n’s very, very hungover stance.

Y/n nearly trips over her own two feet as she attempts to balance herself after Savannah harshly pulled her up from her collapsed figure. If she had the capability to answer back, she would have, but she’s still fucked up from last night and can barely stomach the sunlight seeping in from the curtains.

“Is this what you’ve been up to?!” Savannah spits, angry laughter tying into her words, “Is this the kind of shit you’ve been doing while cutting everyone off?! Sleeping with random guys?!”

The last thing Savannah expected to see was Y/n in bed with a half-naked man and empty bottles of alcohol scattered across her bedroom floor. It was extremely rare for Y/n to carelessly consume alcohol and have consistent one night stands. Savannah’s witnessed her go through these phases only a handful of times throughout their friendship, all of which stemmed from Y/n’s toxic intolerance of being alone.

She should have seen this coming, though. After finding out she’s been in a relationship with someone Y/n was in love with, the first thing she should have done was check up on her. But there was so much fear holding her back, so much guilt preventing her from confronting her about it.

She wouldn’t know exactly what to say, or how to say it, without making it sound like she was the shittiest friend in the world. She had a feeling Y/n had feelings for Harry, considering she had mentioned him a plethora of times once she met him.

And Savannah still took it upon herself to date Harry, for her own selfish reasons. She never thought that it was the potential reason Y/n was so distant. That thought was the last one in the back of her head, completely throwing her off guard when she found out.

She’s tried to reach out to her multiple times, only to be deliberately ignored and shut down. After a while, she figured all Y/n wanted was space, so she stopped trying for a couple days.

But nothing stopped Harry. He’d spend hours knocking on her front door, on his knees, begging for her to speak to him. He’d call her when he wasn’t near her, because he had driven himself crazy knowing he never told Y/n what he needed to tell her so urgently.

Y/n knew—she knew just how much effort he was putting into seeing her again. She heard him, every day, through her front door, but she never knew what to do. The constant fear that Harry didn’t feel the same way back was all the convincing she needed to never speak to him again.

There’s only so much her heart could break, and she didn’t know how many more times it could before she finally snapped.

Y/n grips her head as she squints her eyes shut, hissing at the throbbing in her head when Savannah’s voice booms throughout the room. The overwhelming migraine taking over Y/n’s head practically forces her to sit on the edge of her bed, the palm of her hands still digging into her eyes.

“Not cutting anyone off,” Y/n mumbles, grumbling when she opens her eyes properly to look at Savannah, “I’m just adjusting.”

It isn’t a lie. Her intention wasn’t to ignore them, not at all. But as time went on, the more her emotions started becoming fragile; one wrong sight would have made her break.

And as stupid as it sounds, having sex was the only time she felt wanted after Harry and Savannah started dating. Even if it was in a drunken state, even if it was just purely for physical pleasure, the hours spent with random men were the only moments she felt purpose.

It was also her biggest distraction. Having one night stands was her emotional outlet, her way of letting out all of her emotions without actually doing so. It sure as hell was better than being alone—anything was.

Savannah sighs, shaking her head softly as she kneels eye level to her. She’d never seen her like this before, so lost and broken. She would have lectured her further if she wanted to because she had every right to smack some sense into her. But after all this time, after all the pain she could only imagine Y/n going through, could she really do that to her? Could she really blame her for doing this to herself?

“Y/n,” she rubs her legs, “I have been the shittiest, most horrible friend to you. I was so selfish and so inconsiderate, and I don’t blame you for not speaking to me these past couple days. But, Y/n, this—” her hands gesture around the horrendous state of her bedroom, “this isn’t adjusting. Having drunk sex isn’t going to rid your feelings for Harry. You’re suppressing your emotions, you’re running away. That’s what you’re doing.”

Y/n’s lips begin to quiver as her eyes well with tears; the first time she’s truly cried since the night she saw Harry at Lexi’s. Savannah feels somewhat relieved when she sees the tears falling from Y/n’s eyes. It isn’t a familiar sight to see, but it shows her that she’s actually accepting what she’s been hiding all along.

“You have to talk to me. I don’t care if you yell at me, Y/n. I don’t care what you do to me, but you have to talk to me. You have to show me something. I can’t be hearing about your feelings from Harry, that’s not fair for anyone.”

“What was I supposed to say?” Y/n whispers, her words breaking beneath cries she so desperately wishes she could stop.

But there’s no going back now. The alcohol is still running in her system and she’s reacting instinctively. There is nothing holding her back, not now.

“How was I supposed to tell him that I was in love with him when I knew he didn’t feel the same way? And how was I supposed to tell you anything about him when I knew this would end up happening anyways?! And what was I supposed to say to the both of you when you both decided to take it upon yourselves to flirt in front of me?!

By now, Y/n’s blood is starting to boil. The words coming out of her mouth are laced with venom, her sudden shift in mood making Savannah swallow thickly. But everything in her is operating a million miles an hour, her words coming out faster than her brain can register. She doesn’t even remember standing up from the bed while she paces around her bedroom, empty bottles rolling around the wooden floor.

“Because no matter what I would have done, it would have ended the same! The way it always does, Savannah! The way it always ends with you getting what I want, even if I want it more—“

“Y/n—"

“Even if I need it! You still get it!”

The harshness in her voice is replaced by violent cries, her words drowned in uncontrollable sobs.

The pain is all over. Everything she’s attempted to numb is now all hitting her at once. All the loneliness, all the anger, all the hurt she’s been burying is now reaching the surface. She can barely breathe, all of the emotions suffocating her, squeezing against her throat.

Savannah is quick to embrace her shaken body, shushing her as her hands rub up and down her back.

A part of her always knew she was the reason Y/n’s love life was barely existent. Although Y/n never admitted it, she drops hints at it every so often. She did notice how all of Y/n’s high school crushes ended up liking her instead, and did notice how whenever Y/n tried to date, she would barely mention them to her. It was as if she was hiding them from her, completely intimidated that Savannah would take away her only chance at a relationship.

And Savannah can’t shake the horrible feeling she has when Y/n admits all of it to her.

Y/n buries her face in her shoulder, her tears soaking through her t-shirt. She wishes she could hold a grudge against Savannah, but she doesn’t have the heart to blame her for anything that’s happened. Everything is because of Y/n, everything happening is because of her fear of emotions and every bit of her has no one else to blame.

“I need him.” Y/n sobs into her shoulder, her hands tugging at the ends of her shirt for some sort of release.

“I need him so much. And I hate it—I hate that I do so m—much.”

“Oh, Y/n.” Savannah kisses her temple, holding her higher against her.

She knows how much Y/n needs him, and knows now more than ever. She was her happiest when she first met him, she was almost an entirely different person. But now, after everything that’s happened, Savannah has never seen her more of a wreck than she is in this moment.

“Let’s sit you down, you need to breathe.”

Y/n whimpers as she’s placed back on the bed, Savannah reminding her to breathe every couple of seconds. She looks at Y/n with sadness in her eyes, comforting her whenever she needs it most.  

“He needs you, too, you know.” Savannah sighs, shaking her head as she takes Y/n’s fidgeting hands into hers.

“I never noticed it until you distanced yourself from us. He didn’t open up to me the way he should have, never talked to me the way he had with you. When I asked him about it—asked him why he wasn’t communicating with me properly, he always mentioned you.”

Y/n flutters her eyes shut, pursing her lips with the slight possibility that Harry may actually feel the same way towards her. There was always a part of her that fully believed the only reason he’s tried so hard to reach her was because he felt guilty for hurting her so much.

But knowing that there’s a chance in Harry reciprocating feelings gives Y/n an overwhelming sensation she’s ever experienced before. It’s the first time in a while there’s a particular type of warmth in her chest, and she swears she begins to tear up from the bit of happiness she’s been missing.

“He would tell me that you were the only one he truly felt comfortable around. Even confessed you were the only one he’d ever be able to talk to, even if we were in a relationship. He was going absolutely mental.”

Savannah sweeps the pad of her thumb under Y/n’s eye, catching the few extra tears that are overflowing. She smiles weakly at her in reassurance, raking her knotted hair between her fingers.

“No matter how much he claimed to like me, he loved you. He’ll always love you. And even when he was completely oblivious, I know now that, deep down, he was always yours. He was never really mine, no matter how much we all thought differently.”

Y/n nods slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips when she hears Savannah’s words. It’s the first sense of hope she’s felt in a while, and it almost completely rids the pain. Almost.

“I’m sorry for ruining your relationship, though. I kind of feel like this is all my fault.”

Savannah laughs softly, finding it almost completely unbelievable that Y/n always finds a way to apologize, even when things aren’t her fault.

“Are you serious, Y/n? Nobody, including me, can love that man half as much as you do. I ruined your relationship. You barely had anything to ruin.”

She runs her hands through Y/n’s hair one last time before patting her shoulder, a smirk growing on her face as she stands up from her kneeling position.

“Now, up you go. I believe you have to talk to someone who’s been dying to see you.”


It’s when Y/n is about to walk out of her door, freshly showered with a new change of clothes, ready to face Harry when she realizes she never said it.

She never fully told Harry she loves him, not when he was conscious, at least. She had felt it for so long, it has taken over her for so long, yet she never told him how she felt. It almost makes her wonder if it’s the reason why he’s been trying so hard for her.

He needs to hear her say it.

“It’s not hard.” She mumbles to herself as she unlocks her front door.

“Not hard, I just have to fucking sa—”

“Y/n!” Harry breathes out, springing from his position on the ground up to his feet.

He twitches when he instinctively brings his hand up to reach for her, but he holds himself back. He isn’t quite sure how far he’ll allow her to go, but if it were up to him, every part of her would be against him. Every single part.

She sucks in a breath, not expecting to see him waiting on her doorstep, and certainly not expecting him to seem so relieved to see her.

“H—Harry,” she whispers hesitantly, “what are you—“

“I’m sorry!” He stutters, interrupting her before she has a chance to finish asking her question.

“I know how inappropriate it is of me to just sit on your doorstep so unexpectedly but I knew Savannah was coming and I thought that maybe this would be the only time I’d get to see you and I was going to come in but some guy came running out of here and I didn’t want to get in between your time with Savannah so I just figured I’d wait until you came back out but I wasn’t sure if you ever would so I just figured I'd—“

He stops rambling when he feels Y/n’s hand on his cheek, her eyes looking at him with so much tenderness he swears his heart melts.

“Catch your breath, Harry.” She mumbles, rubbing her thumb along his cheek, “Just take a breath.”

He inhales sharply as he closes his eyes, turning his head so that her hand is against his lips. He kisses her palm softly before she moves it to play with his unbrushed hair.

His eyes flutter shut at her touch, his body almost completely melting into her. He feels his weakest now more than ever, and he’s never been more relieved to be this close to her again.

“Who was he, Y/n?” he whispers.

“The guy, who ran out of here, who was he?“

As much of a coward as it makes him, the thought of her in bed with someone else physically and mentally pains him more so than he’s ever expected. His head swims with thoughts of her naked, trembling, crying as she devotes her love to some other man, and the more he thinks about it, the more sick his stomach feels.

“Have I been trying for nothing? Have I been wasting my time?”

How could you ever doubt my love for you? is the first thought that comes to her. How could you ever question how much I love you?

Instead of saying the words right at the tip of her tongue, her eyes crease inward, slightly shaking her head as she scrapes her fingertips delicately against his scalp.

“I don’t know, Harry.” she whispers honestly, “I don’t know who he is.”

He nods softly, but nothing in her answer reassures him. He knows there is no other explanation for a guy to run out of her house at nine in the morning without a shirt on.

“May I come in? Wanna talk.” He asks tentatively.

“Of course you can.”

Silence falls between them as they both claim spots on opposite sides of the room. 

There’s a tension in the room they both can’t seem to shake, an unaddressed barrier between them making it nearly impossible to find an appropriate way to start a conversation.

Harry’s the first one to break the silence, however, after a few minutes past of each of them refusing to make any eye contact with each other. 

“Were you ever going to tell me?”

The question caught Y/n’s attention quickly, her head that was once resting in the palm of her hand now up on its own, a small “hm?” parting past her lips.

She’s acting dumb even though she knows exactly what he’s talking about. She just isn’t prepared to answer him, not in the way he wants her to.

“That you’re in love with me. Were you ever going to tell me?”

She shrugs, her teeth biting her bottom lip as she tears her gaze away from his. She isn’t used to confrontation, especially when it involves her emotions. It’s one of her weaknesses, but there’s absolutely no way around this one. Even if there was, she wouldn’t have the audacity to take it. He deserves to know—everything this time.

“I told you before.”

Harry’s jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as he looks at her from across the room. No, he may have been oblivious about her feelings in the beginning, but he sure as hell would never have forgotten it if she told him how she felt.

“Bullshit!” He scoffs. “You didn’t tell me shit! We wouldn’t be here right now if you had told me!”

She sighs, her cheek laying right back down in the palm of her hand, almost as if shying away from him.

“Well, it’s just—you were sleeping.”

Harry stands from his place on the couch, face scrunching in aggravation as his hands rub up and down his face.

“You’re kidding me, right? You have to be fucking kidding me right now!”

His fingers harshly grip the roots of his hair before stomping is way towards her. If he doesn’t get any answers out of her, he swears he’ll lose his goddamn mind.

His hands grip the sides of her face, squeezing her jaw between his hands as he looks at her bewildered.

“I need answers, Y/n. I don’t think you understand how many fucking answers I need right now.”

He speaks through clenched teeth and a tightened jaw, frustration boiling in his blood as she gives him the outright most ambiguous and outrageous answers he’s ever heard in his life.

Y/n places her hands on top of his, her fingernails digging gently into his skin. Despite the harshness of his stare, this is the first time she’s seen him in weeks, and she still finds him to be the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen.

“It was the night after I drove you back from Lexi’s, when you and Savannah were kind of going through that rough patch.”

He falls to his knees in between her legs, an almost unnoticeable smile tugging at his lips from the memories of that night. Because although Savannah had left him by himself, he had a night with Y/n that changed him forever.

"You fell asleep on me, after you told me you were still going to fight for her. That was probably one of the worst things you could have said to me, but you didn’t know, and I was angry at myself for not telling you sooner. I didn’t know how else to tell you unless you were—you were sleeping.”

His hand reaches up to her lips, his thumb tracing along the outlines of her mouth once she’s done speaking. No matter how much she confuses him, and no matter how fucking angry she makes him, he wouldn’t want to be staring at anybody else right now.

“I loved you then, too” he whispers, “I didn’t know it. I didn’t know anything until you left me. I knew you meant everything to me, I knew you were the only one I trusted so deeply. But the second I lost you, I felt empty.”

He presses his forehead against her collar bones, her heart beating quickly against his neck. She sighs, her fingers intertwining with his against her lap as her hips slide more towards the edge, her knees supporting the sides of his chest.

“Didn’t matter that I had Savannah. She was lovely, don’t get me wrong, but she wasn’t you. I tried so hard to make myself believe I was just missing you as a friend, but there was nothing that convinced me.”

His tearful eyes looked into hers, both chuckling slightly at their current state. They’re both crying, both their hearts racing in their chests. If someone were to tell them now that there’s a feeling even remotely close to how beautiful they feel now, together, they wouldn’t have believed it for a second.

Y/n wipes away the loose tears on his cheeks while she sniffles, giggling softly at how stupid they probably look.

“I’ve always loved you, Harry,” she whispers, “there’ll never be a time that I stop. No matter how hard I try, my love for you is stronger.”

It’s when the words fall from her lips that Harry realizes all he needed was for her to hear her say it. Her voice is so sweet as she says it, too, and her eyes leave no trace out doubt when she looks into him.

He tries to hold back the irresistible urge to kiss her, but it’s completely impossible. His lips press feverishly against hers, both of them releasing moans at just how right it feels to be kissing one another. Their kiss isn’t the slightest bit romantic. It’s harsh, it’s desperate, it’s messy but it’s just what they need.

Harry crawls on top of her, his hands on every part of her they can touch. He groans when he feels her nails scratch down his back, leaving her giggling underneath him.

“Mine.” He growls, his thumb putting pressure right underneath her chin.

He admires her face, the glorious look of her swollen lips, wet eyes, and pink cheeks. It’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. A soft whimper leaves her lips, craving nothing more than to feel his lips against hers again.

“These lips are mine. All of you—all of you is mine. No other fucking wanker gets you the way I do.”

She smirks, her eyes half-lidded.

“‘m not allowed to sleep with random guys but you’re allowed to fuck my best friend?”

He presses his lips against her again, his hands brushing loose strands of hair away from her face as he does so.

“Never fucked her,” He mumbles against her lips, “couldn’t get you off my mind.”

Y/n rolls over so that she’s on top of Harry, her legs on either side of his waist as her hands roam his chest through his t-shirt. He looks priceless like this, weak and breathless underneath her as her hands grip the sides of his face.

“The prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”

He blushes, his bottom lip in between his teeth as he sends her the biggest grin she’s ever seen on him. His eyes are full of love, too, and Y/n swears every breath she had the chance to take has been knocked right out of her.

“Nobody makes me feel the way you do, Y/n. Nobody.

His || Jungkook || 0.8

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8

Keep reading

It’s A Comfort Thing

Author: @sincerelystiles
Pairing: Dylan x Reader
Word Count: 3,738

Warnings: nsfw aT ALL THIS IS SO SINFUL I’M NOT EVEN SORRY 

A/N: i was gonna keep this fluffy, but we all know it’s pretty impossible for me to not write sin for dylan, so here you go!! also i apologise for how dirty this got. fUCK. and thanks to my bby @sabrinas-wolves for helping me with this and the puthey… and this is dylan pov

listen to this


Originally posted by arkhamcutie


my baby: text me when you’re on your way home so i can start dinner xo

dyl pickle: will do xx

I shove my phone back into my pocket with a smile and rub my hands together eagerly. It had been five months since I’d been home, which also meant five long, agonisingly lonely months since I last saw Y/N. Admittedly, I’d much rather be home with her right now, either fucking the shit out of her, or holding her close to my chest as I wash her hair in the bath tub. She always loved corny shit like that. But unfortunately, I wasn’t. I was in my dressing room, waiting with T-Pose to be interviewed with Ellen DeGeneres.

Keep reading

Best Friends (Part 8)

Summary: Meeting in college, you and Bucky strike up a friendship. And that is all there is, until Bucky realizes he’s in love with you. But it might just be a little too late for that.

Word Count: 808

Masterlist

A/N: Hope you all enjoy this part! We are nearing the end!

Originally posted by minmiin1d

Bucky glowered at Steve, Sam, and Clint as they stood in front of him. They had made him sit on the couch and were staring down at him, shaking their heads, arms crossed over their chests.

“You’re stupid,” deadpanned Sam.

Keep reading

Here Are My Colors

Anthony Ramos x Reader

Requested: anthony x reader where reader is anthony’s longterm girlfriend who stuck with him through him never being home, missing out on date nights for rehearsals & performances, & really through everything together. when the show hits broadway, anthony starts staying waaay later than he has to @ the theatre & on readers 3 year anni with him, he insists he has to stay late at the theatre when they already had plans together & reader discovers it was just bc he wanted to hang out with jasmine

Words: 6,149 (i get it man, I’m so extra)

Warnings:  swearing, cheating, AND angst, SO much angst, I’m sorry

A/N: I WANT TO DEDICATE THIS FIC TO THE MOST AMAZING PERSON, ELL @lookaroundlookaroundhowlucky. THANK YOU FOR LOOKING OVER THIS & FOR LITERALLY MAKING ME LAUGH & SMILE EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY. I LOVE YOU & I APPRECIATE THE SHIT OUTTA YA GIRL. Y’ALL GO CHECK HER OUT, SHE SLAYS THE GAME EVERYDAY.

ALSO, I have no words as to how PROUD I am of this fic, it’s UNREAL. It took me so long to write and I love it, it’s basically my child. PLEASE ENJOY.

Keep reading

Sweep you off your feet

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1,061
A/N: Requested by my dearest Mong J


“I can’t believe you called me out to the arcade after weeks of being on tour.” You sniffed at your friend, Jungkook, as you approached where he was waiting by the entrance.    

“I thought you liked the arcade.” He easily pushed the door open with one hand, going through it first but holding it open until you were inside.    

“I do.” you said. “It’s just that…”    

It’s just that, in the years that the two of you had been friends, you eventually came to feel something more for him. And since you hid your feelings so well, it gave you hope that maybe under that platonic exterior, he felt the same way. So every time he went away for a long time, you’d cook up some romantic fantasy in your head wherein he’d sweep you off your feet… something like, surprise you with a limo, a dozen long-stemmed roses, and take you to a restaurant that he had reserved for the night. When you turned to him questioningly, he’d confess his love for you. He’d then take you in his arms and kiss you until you were breathless.

Keep reading