it's like he is forcing it to look up

Would you believe this was inspired by the beginning of Shrek? Yes. Because it’s the same.


Stiles dragged his feet a bit as Hilda tugged him forward in line. He was chained up and surrounded by guards, probably about to be sold into slavery, but he still wasn’t going to make this easy for the old broad.

He’d been buying her produce for years, and this was how she repaid him? Selling him to the king for some supernatural creature bounty? No. He was going to make this as difficult as possible.

She glared her beady little eyes at him, dug her sharp nails into his arm a bit more, and shoved him forward another lurching step. The fae at the front of the line was deemed worth twenty pounds, ten shillings and hauled off by knights in armor.


A hellhound was dragged forward in an iron collar.

“I will give you money if you just let me go,” Stiles whispered, he wasn’t above bargaining, but Hilda ignored him. He didn’t have much, but it was probably more than she’d get from these chumps. “Six shillings, right now.”

Hilda rolled her eyes and tugged him forward by the chain looped around his wrists. The hellhound was appraised and hauled off into the back of a closed wagon. It was no doubt magically reinforced; Stiles could still hear it snarling violently, but it wasn’t breaking through the old rickety wooden sides.


“Ten shillings,” Stiles continued, “right as soon as I can get to the bank. Twenty, even! Three pounds!”

Hilda gave him a withering look. “You don’t have that kind of money. Now shut up.” She yanked on his chain and both wrists burned as the iron manacles scraped against the already raw skin. The iron was bad enough without all of the jerking around.

Another supernatural creature was carried off to the wagon—this time a nymph—and then it was Stiles’ turn.

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your relationship being exposed during an interview


Xiumin would have made a minor slip up while talking on the phone during an interview to a lucky fan by accidentally calling your name instead of the fans which would leave him a mumbling mess, trying to fix the mess he had made.

“…Yes up course I can y/n. Wait no im sorry, its just- I was- it uhmm,  your name, sounded really similar to someone I know, I apologize.”

“wait who’s y/n????”

Originally posted by ohhsenshine


Suho would have been seen the day before with you getting out of a restaurant whilst holding hands, and in the interview they were quick to call him out asking who the mysterious girl truly was, making him throw out a quick reply followed by a grin.

“she’s my girlfriend actually”

Originally posted by suhomysuho


One of the questions asked in the interview was which one of the members stayed up latest at night, and all the members quickly pointed to lay, making the interviewer ask him what he did so late in the middle of the night.

“I sometimes video chat my girlfriend abroad actually”

Originally posted by kaiauch


There had been a post swarming around of an image of at a party, which demonstrated in the background a couple kissing, you and Baekhyun to be exact. Despite trying to push the questions away, the interviewer kept insisting. 

“She’s actually my girlfriend, however I’d appreciate if no one asked about her, or tried figuring out who she is, since we don’t want her or our relationship in the limelight.”

Originally posted by pathkode


There had been rumors going around saying Chen was dating, when suddenly in an interview, all the members where playing an image guessing game, using pictures sent in by fans, when a picture of you asleep came up and everyone turned to look at Chen who began giggling. 

“Ahh my jagi, she’s a keeper isn’t she?”

Originally posted by ohbaekhyuns


Chanyeol had been doing an interview, when the young female interviewer started throwing advances at him, and openly flirting. He was quick to shut her down, and at the same time let everyone know he was off the market.

“Actually, I don’t think my girlfriend would like this very much.”

Originally posted by sehunsi


In a recent interview, the members had been asked if any of them were seeing someone, when everyone immediately turned to look at Kyungsoo, making him flush bright red.

“Wait no, this isn’t fair. Whys everyone looking at me? Y/N wont appreciate this.”

Originally posted by teyuns


When asked the question everyone always looked forward to in any interview, kai quickly admitted to dating someone as he didn’t want it to be kept a secret anymore 

“Yeah I am seeing someone actually. She’s just great.”

Originally posted by j-jennie


In a backstage interview, when asked who bullied the members the most, Junmyeon admitted to being ganged up on by you and Sehun, saying you two were a deadly duo, and letting the part where you were Sehuns girlfriend slip, making the maknae burst out laughing.

“Actually, Sehun and his girlfriend Y/N always bully us. They’re really evil together its almost like an otherworldly force.”


Originally posted by chenudes

~Admin Ari♡

the rough times of the day


Another wave on sickness rushed through Bendy as the last bit of his last meal was again rejected by his body now laying in the bucket before him which he was gripping for dear life. Tears where starting to collect them self’s at the edges on his eyes and the bitter sting left behind by the thick black liquid dripping down his chin made him want to throw up again but there was nothing to throw out anymore.

“come on Bendy big breaths” his brother said in a soft voice, gently petting his back to help him through the pulsing pain wreaking his body.

Bendy gripped the bucket a bit tighter feeling something all too familiar slowly crawl its way into his senses sticking his nerves with a fear of what’s about to come next

“oh no”

Boris pulled his hand back a little so it was hovering above Bendy’s back but not touching him.


A scream ripped itself from Bendy’s throat, a hot shot of crippling pain wreaking through his abandon as if his body was rejecting its own stomach. His arms shot out to his lower body gripping into his own skin so tight that if he wasn’t crippling under the pressure of his disease slowly destroying his body, he would have feared he tear open his skin.

Bendy was vaguely aware of the bucket tipping over and falling out of his lap, spilling the black stuff everywhere and leaving behind an gut wrenching sour smell.


Boris quickly placed his hand back on Bendy’s lower back and let the other find its way to the others knee, little tear welled up in his eyes, not being able to bear looking at his brother in so much pain.

“n-no Bendy don’t say that be strong oke, you’ll be oke.. j-just hold on”

Another scream was forced out Bendy, still gripping into his stomach, the red hot pain ripping both his mind and will apart like it was a piece of paper.


Bendy sobbed, it was too much to handle. The heat it was too much he was losing his damn mind, He couldn’t he just couldn’t.


A pair of arms wrapped themselves around Bendy’s shoulders, pulling him quickly but gently against Boris chest that was shacking from the sobs and hiccups going through him.

“please it’ll be oke brother just don’t lose hope please”

Boris held Bendy closer to himself like his was trying to squeeze away the illness that was wreaking his brother. 

Bendy breathing picked up some more, swallowing big gulps of air like he never had taken a breath in his life. trying to shut it out the feeling of his nerves burning and screaming out in bloody murder. Trying to push through and passed the crippling hot pain and the feeling his lungs where getting skinned alive.

If not for himself he was trying for somebody who still needed him, the person he cared about most in the world, “for Boris” he told himself .

Slowly ever so slowly relaxed even if it was just a tiny bit, the pain died down enough for him to regular his breathing and lean against Boris, too exhausted  to move.   

“it’s oke”

Boris squeezed Bendy a little closer to him, tears now freely going down his face.

“it’ll always be oke, I know you’re strong enough Bendy”

A little smile showed itself on Bendy’s lips when Boris started wiggling his tail happily, glad that his brother was more or less oke now.

“I’m not strong” Bendy said with a weak voice that was still tuckered out from all that screaming. “you’re the only reason I keep fighting Boris” he said with a soft sigh, now relaxing fulling against the other, leaning his head against Boris chest.


i tried 

you probaly get a fuck ton of these already but meh i thought you might like this one

(sorry i’m a shitty writer)

anyhow this is based on that little comic when bendy was pretty much dying but not quite

welp here you go have fun with it 

fic by idk-likesomeone

  • response:

thank you for this awesome fic! 

actually I didn’t get any fanfic about this AU; you’re the first bruh!

I added a little art if you don’t mind ^^

Bucky Imagine #3 | Lingerie

Originally posted by buckysqueenbitch


Author’s Note: I have so much other stuff to write but sometimes inspiration strikes and I don’t want to lose it. Enjoy Bucky learning about lingerie! 

Rated M for conversation topics and innuendos. 

Have an idea? MAKE A REQUEST!


Bucky wasn’t the kind of man who just went rummaging around in women’s underwear drawers. He was respectable - a true gentleman, if he said so himself - and yet here he was, eyes lingering a little too long on the lacy strap that had fallen out of the dresser. He had to admit he was curious; things had changed so much in seventy years. Women didn’t wear anything else that was similar to what it was in the forties, surely their underclothes were different, too.

He peaked over his shoulder, eyes scanning the room for any other sign of life before he allowed himself to walk a little closer. He was already invading your privacy by just being here, in your bedroom when the rest of the team was gone, so he just looked at first, studied the little black ribbon and titch of lace that was available to him. 

Keep reading

Boyfriend! Jimin

Jimin would be the type of boyfriend that is really playful. He would try his best to make you laugh 

And sometimes, he would even tease you in public and around other members 

Originally posted by sugutie

But then pretend to be all innocent and act as though he did nothing wrong 

Originally posted by bwipsul

Overall though, he would be a really sweet boyfriend. 

He would forever give you little kisses and do his best aegyo for you ( even though its lowkey cringy when he tries to force aegyo)

Originally posted by jxnhyungs

But it always makes you smile, which is why he does it. 

I also feel like Jimin is a hugger and so you would always get hugs from him, OH! and LOTS of cuddles !!!

Originally posted by yanderelevifangirl

(ignore the caption ^^)

But let’s not forget, Jimin has a naughty side !

Originally posted by louizlake

Jimin is the type to run his hand up your thigh whenever he is in the mood. 

Originally posted by pocahontas-cd-4-daddy

And whisper dirty things in your ear. 

Originally posted by kpop-undertaker

And let’s not forget, his constant lip biting just to tease you and pushing his hair back because he KNOWS it drives you crazy.

Originally posted by amsimaria

And that look he would give you when he is needy:

Originally posted by kookies-for-taehyung

But he is a sweetheart at the end of the day, so every day spent with  him would fill your day with happiness. 

Bonus : Pink haired Jimin (ah~ i love it so much)

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 8/12

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

Warning(s): Panic Attack scene mixed with vomit

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

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

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

It was all because of Richie.

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

Keep reading

Lucifer praising you when you insult God

Word count: 552

Lucifer praising you when you insult God

You tiredly walked into the kitchen of the bunker not taking notice of any of the guys sat at on the stools. Walking over to the coffee machine you clicked it on and sighed as you waited for the water to warm up.

“Who’s this beautiful little thing then?” you heard a voice from behind you ask.

Turning around you saw Sam Dean and a new person that you had never seen before looking right at you in your short sleeping shorts and a tank top. You smiled at the new guy and took in how cute he looked from his short blonde hair to his icy blue eyes.

“That’s Y/N,” Sam said, his eyes not leaving the computer screen as he ferociously scrolled away desperately looking for something.

You turned back around and began to pour yourself a drink, once your mug was full you picked it up and made your way over to where the boys were sitting.

“Well Y/N, I’m Lucifer,” he spoke with a smirk on his face clearly expecting you to freak out like everyone else had done in the past.

“Hi Lucifer, what brings you to the bunker?” You asked taking a seat down next to him and sipping on your coffee whilst looking into his blue eyes.

He was clearly in shock as the way you reacted but he quickly masked it up with a smirk at the sudden realisation that you weren’t afraid of him and he admired your bravery or lack of not caring.

“Well, Dad’s gone on the run and we need him to help stop Amara. So even though this bunker is extremely boring and I want anything else in this world right now than to locate my father, I’ve been forced to work with dumb and dumber in order to locate God almighty himself!” Lucifer explained.

“Although, I get a slight feeling that it’s not going to be that boring anymore,” he flirted as you leaned over to look at the research on Sammy’s computer.

“Not this guy. God, he’s so annoying, I will never understand him.” You spoke referring to God.

Lucifer’s head shot up at your disapproval of his father and that smirk made its way back onto his face, every second Lucifer spent listening to you speak he liked you more and more.

Sam and Dean both looked at you in shock and worry as if you could just get killed that second for even thinking negatively about God.

“What?” you asked confused, “There’s no point in being scared about some dude who literally does not care for his own sons, daughters and creations to the point where he just nopes out and runs away from it all the second something goes bad.”

Lucifer couldn’t hold in how ecstatic you were making him feel in that moment, in fact, he doesn’t recall ever feeling as emotional as he did then when he realised that you felt the exact same way as he did about “God”.

“Good girl,” Lucifer praised throwing a wink in your direction and you tried your hardest to not let a smirk creep its way onto your face in front of Sam and Dean before quickly excusing yourself from the room so you could smile like a psychopath about your crush on Lucifer himself.

Chirrut’s never been on an ocean planet before Scarif, never been off-world before Eadu, but he liked the salt smell and the feel of actual warmth from the sun, underneath the blood and metal, despite some of that heat surely being fire.

So after the battle is won, and their Rogue team is a thorn in the Rebellion’s side as opposed to the proud lapel bloom they had once been, they request some- shore leave, as it were.

They ask for somewhere tropical, to rewrite their sensory memories.

Cassian sleeps, at long last he sleeps, in the shade of K2’s new body, ignoring the complaints about sand and rust.

Jyn and Bodhi play a raucous game of volleyball: Jyn is far too competitive and Bodhi runs away from the ball every time she smashes it with fearsome glee.

Baze floats in the gentle shallows, because feeling weightless is something he hasn’t allowed himself for decades.

And Chirrut- well, Chirrut can’t swim (where on Jedha would he have learnt? the kyber salt pools were waist high at best) but he wades in after Baze anyway, bare chested with the skirts of his new robes hiked to upper thigh, because he’ll be damned if he misses an opportunity to conquer something new. Plus Baze is enjoying himself, and Chirrut likes to enjoy Baze enjoying himself.

Swimming is a lot harder than he’s been led to believe. He swallows a lot of seawater, but by the time Baze drags him back to the beach, Jyn has shyly produced… a buoyancy aid.

“What does it look like?” he asks, croaky and delighted.

“A Corlassian seadragon,” says Baze, voice wavering from panic turned to mirth. “A pink one.”

They float together, hands clasped so that Chirrut doesn’t drift away.

“Oh,” he sighs, “it’s like being swept up in the Force. Surrounding us, warm in its current. Why didn’t you ever take me swimming somewhere?”

Baze snorts, fond. “Like you would have left your beloved sand. Besides, you say that of everything. Dust storms are like the Force. Fresh soup is like the Force. Sex is like-”

Chirrut dunks him, and paddles away laughing.


PAIRING: steve harrington x reader, billy hargrove x reader

summary: nancy breaks up with steve and he is a bit of a mess when you find him. being the new girl in hawkins you try to befriend and keep nancy off his mind. it backfires and now you have him falling in love with you, as you fight off the urge to fall in love with him, too. [THIS IS AN AU!]

warnings: swearing, sexual situations, violence, death

a/n: holy heck! i was swarmed with positivity! thank you, everyone! also, just to say, i had a smut scene written for literally the opening of this chapter but i was like – hmmm, too much? so i scrapped it. so it will appear later. (i tagged everyone who requested a part2! hope you don’t mind!)

also important to note that i don’t like billy. but he is very hot. i would climb him like a tree. call me a monkey bcs i’m bananas for him. would peel his clothes off in a second. okay i’ll stop now

if you like my stuff and want to support me, don’t forget to treat me to a KO-FI!


[ACT 1]


Your lips move onto his in frantic desire fuelled movements that make your insides tingly and your head spin. Everything is a buzz. The wind howls in your ears and curls the strands of your hair. His cologne intoxicates you and you let yourself be devoured. His hand, first minding its own business, lands on the inside of your thigh and squeezes playfully, possibly in promise of more if you were a good girl. A tingle of excitement sparks. You giggle and smile dreamily, letting one last kiss trail his lips pulling away. And as you open your eyes to meet his ice blue ones looking straight at you in hunger mixed with quiet rage your heart drops and a breath locks in your lungs. A harsh slap echoes in the speeding car and your right cheek burns like it was touched by fire.

The atmosphere morphs from cheerful and carefree to dark and dangerous. The broad daylight illuminates the quiet neighbourhood and makes everything appear sharper. The summer heat cools down and now it’s chilly. You shiver. You keep shivering until tears crawl up your neck and gather on your lash-line. Afraid to move - afraid he might snap again, if you do – you continue starting at the backseat as if trying to process what just had happened. The force of his touch – the roughness of his fingers, the sensitivity of your skin – made you turn the other way. It would be pointless to deny that it stings. But what stings more is that he disregards you enough to even do it in the first place.

But Billy’s hand doesn’t move from your thigh. It stays there, warm and soft, like its meant to belong there, like it’s a perfect fit. He squeezes it again, lets his fingers tatter on your blushed skin, and this is how you realize you are safe to move, safe to look at him, safe to bring your hand up to the cheek and caress the hurting spot. His eyes are fixed on the road, jaw tensed, lips red and raw from your kisses. He glances at you as you slump in your seat, gently rubbing your cheek as you are unable to lift your eyes to look at him.

“Serves you right for fucking others.” He utters under his breath, in a mixture of controlled anger and guilt.  You gulp.

But I didn’t, you think, desperate enough to scream but for some reason your lips won’t open. Shakily, your free hand engulfs his. The only plus of this situation is that now you know what is up with him, what has been up with him all morning. It was about that stupid party you went to a few nights ago. It got rowdy and some guy kept pestering you while your girl-friends kept winking and nodding and telling you to ‘go for it’. You didn’t. You’d never. You love Billy, despite how flawed he is. You acknowledge that he really isn’t the best person. You don’t deny disliking the way he treats his sister, his past lovers, or you for that matter. But you’re naïve in that way. You are the only one he has, and the only one that believes he has some good in him.

So you forgive him, and he knows you do because you are smiling at him gently as the bruise on your cheek starts forming. The tears are abruptly blinked away. The shock trickles down along with chilly shivers and once again, heat engulfs you like an old friend and you find your voice somewhere in the back of your throat, “I didn’t.” You rasp.

Don’t lie to me.”

“I would never lie to you, Billy; you know I’m not like that.”

“Fuck if I know what you’re like.”

It is true, in a way. You don’t exactly spend your free time talking all that much. It’s mostly sex or kissing or doing other things that don’t involve conversation. But you feel bad. Feel guilty, that somehow this situation and others that had been like this are your fault. Perhaps you should’ve been more honest. More with him. If you weren’t lucid during the party, maybe you would remember more, maybe you would’ve sought him out and stayed by his side like any good girlfriend should. It’s not that you weren’t with him, per se, but clearly your presence was missed if he’s acting this way. It hurts. Really hurts. You don’t want him to think of you as just a little toy for him and for others to squeeze when they please. There are things you want to say, accusations you are sure you would never dare to speak of. It’s all there, in the back of your mind, whispering evil and vile things, prompting you to snap back at him, to demand respect you know you deserve.

But do you, really? Doubt plagues you. And you don’t say anything. You don’t dare. That would be too risky. He’s already upset, and so are you, and there is no need to escalate this situation any further. You swallow down the lump in your throat, but it doesn’t go away; anxiously your eyes jump from one place to another, as if trying to map out the houses and recall their details in most striking precision if anyone was to ever ask.

“I love you, Billy.” You say instead, hoping that it is enough to soothe him.

“No, you don’t.” He murmurs under his breath; his hand leaves your thigh, leaving a cold spot. He pushes the accelerator and the car roars down the street, picking up speed faster than you can blink. A bitter taste floods your mouth; uneasy your brows knit together and you look at him.

“Billy?” You call him softly. He pretends he doesn’t hear you. Glancing at the road your heart jumps in your chest when you see a lone boy walking, a familiar bright yellow backpack strapped on his shoulders. “Billy, this isn’t funny.” You stress, but your voice appears only above a whisper, soft and meek and not at all demanding.

“Obviously I’m not making myself clear enough, (Name).” He says casually. Your fingertips numb in fright. “So I’m gonna say this once and you better fucking remember this time.” He looks at you – turns his head away from the road and you realize that this is the final mistake he is ever going to make – and he grabs your face, pulling it close as his fingers dig into your skin and you flinch as he presses onto the bruise, “Don’t lie to me.”

You knew he intended to swerve. He had done this a few times before, but when you managed to glance at the road your brother appeared way to close.

Little Georgie didn’t stand a chance.

But before you can fully process what happened, before the bright yellow backpack hits the windshield and your heart shatters into a million pieces like fragile grass, you wake up with a gasp and cold sweat tricking down the back of your neck. It takes a second to figure out where you are – a wild second of looking around and gasping for air – but once you recognise the contours of your new room, drowning in lazy morning light, you feel a wave of relief wash over you and soak you to the bone. Weightless you fall back into bed; your harsh breaths echo in the quiet room, the quiet house, the quiet surrounding area. You lift your clammy hands to rub away tears from your red eyes and sweat from the flat of your forehead and cupid’s bow.

You exhale a long ragged breath.

A scorching fire burns up your throat as a new stream of tears spring out your eyes like fireworks. It feels like someone had punched you in the gut; you pull the covers over yourself and bring your knees to your chest, biting the side of your arm to not release any strangled sounds you so desperately want to. The room drowns in darkness and hot air. And you want to hide the world more than anything else in this world.

You have that dream each night since your little brother died. Some people have the audacity to tell you that wounds heal in time. Clearly, they don’t.


All dressed and ready, with wet hair still dripping at your sides, you immerge from the bathroom to smell the delicious breakfast Mrs. H is cooking in the kitchen. A small smile makes its way on your face as you close your eyes and lose yourself to a moment. One single moment where you hear Georgie’s little feet run down the stairs of your old home and his childish squeaky voice sing ‘Breakfast! (Name)! Food!’. And you would groggily crawl out of your room and complain at him for being loud and annoying but ruffle his hair when he gave you his toothy grin.  But your eyes open despite themselves and the hallways shines in silhouettes and strange colours before turning back to normal. A pang of pain aches your heart but you ignore it. The pleasant aura of home dissipates as if it was never there to begin with; leaves a gaping hole nothing has enough substance to fill. But you compose yourself quick, quick enough to make it into the kitchen and grin stupidly at Dustin. He waves at you from the table, shoving pancakes into his mouth and you can’t help but chuckle a little. Moving past him you ruffle his hair, “Doofus.” You greet.

“At your service, milady.” He replies cheerily. Dustin always referred to you as ‘Milady’. It was because when you were much younger you used to play with him and Georgie a lot. You recall once breaking into your father’s office – he kept most of the board games there in case you or Georgie misbehaved, which was often – and grabbing a random game to pass the time. It involved Knights and Goblins and fair Maidens. You, of course, were the Maiden. It was one of the most fun evenings you ever had. Dustin was seven, then. It was also the last time you saw him. He was more Georgie’s friend. They were the same age, after all.

You say hello to auntie and she smiles warmly at you – frankly, you don’t think she has ever regarded you with anything but love. Grabbing a plate and some utensils, you take a seat next to Dustin and waste no time stealing some of his food, to which he replies with an annoyed, “Hey!” and tries to smack your hand away. Auntie comes into the rescue with a full pan of pancakes and gives you however many you want. You stick your tongue out to Dustin. He makes a face at you.

“Oh, (Name), dearie, I hope you don’t have any plans tonight?” Auntie turns to you hopeful; digging into your food, you shrug.

“Not really, no.” Well, you were planning on something, you have been planning at on it for months, but if this woman, a woman that took you in and decided to take care of you needs something, you fully intend to help out.

“Then you wouldn’t mind looking after Dustin? My Book Club is being—“

“All’s good, Mrs. H.” You say, glancing at the said boy, “Babysitting is something I…” The happy words die in your throat, “was used to. I can take care of him.” You bounce back, bumping his shoulder with yours, “We’re gonna have a blast, yeah?”

“Hell’s yeah, milady.”

“Good,” Mrs. H mumbles, “Good…”

Steve Harrington waits patiently in the driveway, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and absentmindedly checking his reflection in the rear-view mirror. He sometimes glances at the front door, contemplates should he blast the horn or not for the cousins to hurry up, but always decides against it. He’s not in a hurry. But why is he so anxious?

Steve’s mind drifts to last night at Jack Rabbits Slim. His first night a free man and he had spent it with a girl, not a bowl of ice-cream, which is already an accomplishment in itself. And he was right. You are different. There is something about you, something not seen to the naked eye, which stands out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd. Most girls he knows usually swoon or blink their lashes flirtatiously at him. Not like there is anything wrong with that, he likes the attention. But just how Nancy…How Nancy was different, so are you. Unapologetic. Smart-mouthed. Damn good dancer. You managed to take his thoughts away from the breakup and he couldn’t be anymore grateful.

He’s not over Nancy. He won’t be over her for a long while, or so he thinks. Running a hand through his hair, he sighs. But he thinks that having you around will help him. Yeah, you will help him.

The car’s door slams and he jerks, snapping to the side only to see Dustin frowning at him, “Dude.” Dustin says, “I’ve been calling you for like an hour.” Dustin notes Steve’s confused expression and his frown deepens, “You okay?”

What? Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just didn’t get any sleep last-night.”

“You sure?” Dustin pesters, “You know I always have your back.”

“Shouldn’t I be having your back?”

“Older doesn’t mean wiser, Steve. We talked about this.” Dustin comments, “Oh, by the way, my cousin is staying over and she doesn’t really know anyone from school, yet. It would be cool if you could stop by over tonight. We could watch play video games, or something.”

“Your cousin?” Steve blinks, “You mean (Name)?”

“Who the fuck told you about her?”

Hey! Language!”

“Sorry,” Dustin says, “Whom the fuck?”

“We met already.” Your voice chirps from the backseat and the two boys snap their heads in your direction, “Yeah, I’ve been here awhile, if you were to ask. Now, if you girls are done arguing, I’d like to start my first day of school, now.”

Dustin stares at you, “How did you get in here?”

The door, Einstein.”


The hallway is full of stumbling students and bright lights – over all, despite it being early morning, the mood appears to be lively. Some regard you with a questioning look as they pass by, some eye you up and down whilst whispering, and some even smile at you as a way to make you feel more welcomed. You can’t say you see anyone, anyone of importance that is. Dustin had run off to meet his friends; you had hopped out the car before it was even parked to practically jog into the building, not waiting up for Steve. That was pretty rude of you. But you can’t help it. You can’t help anything you feel, can’t help the swarm of unfiltered hatred and rage as you see Billy Hargrove fiddling with his locker and some girl pushing her chest into his line of vision. You can’t help how your hands shake and tatter and clam with sweat, nor how all lights suddenly blow red in the most ultraviolet way.

You inhale a sharp breath – one that serves no other purpose but to fuel the fire in your chest – as you spring into action, pushing past anyone that stands in your way. Perhaps the girl notes you approaching because her expression softens into worry before morphing into fear as she scurries away. Billy regards her with a strange look, about to turn around and see yours truly but you beat him to it. In a harsh slap you shut his locker and the sharp sound rings in your ears. You nearly broke his fingers. Serves him right.

He turns to you, ready to yell, possibly punch whatever punk just dared to challenge the new King of Hawkins High School, but that scary look on his face abruptly fades once he sees you glaring at him, your head held high, jaw tensed to the point he isn’t sue if you even can speak at the moment. He’s taken aback, you realize, and waste no time to use it in your advantage.

“I told you, you can’t run away from me, Hargrove.” You whisper, taking a step closer to invade his personal space but not once breaking eye contact, “I’ll follow you into your fucking grave.”

Haven’t you had enough?” He growls at you. You smile a smile that holds no actually amusement, rather is tight and strained and anything but loving.

“I’m not going to stop until I make your life a living hell.” Your hand shoots to your pocket. What you fish out is a wrinkled picture of little Georgie smiling at the camera, his arms hugging his stuffed turtle as you shimmer in the background with a bowl of popcorn. “You took something from me. I will remind you of this for the rest of your miserable, worthless life.” You say slowly, shoving the picture into his chest, “Here’s his face. In case you forgot how he looked like.”

“You’re insane, Denbrough.” He murmurs.

“At least I’m not…” You freeze, “At least I didn’t…hit a fucking kid with a car.” You hiss, “Remember that? I do. I want you to remember it, too. You’re lucky I have plans, or else I would’ve invited myself over for dinner. Your family loves me, you know. Your mom still calls me. Asks me how I’m doing, and I say I’m doing fine, but you know that’s not true.” You grit your teeth, “I’m going to destroy your life, Billy. Even if it takes me an eternity to do it. I will destroy it. You know me; I’m a ride or die. I never let go of things I set myself to do. That’s one of the reasons you loved me so much.”

He grabs your wrist, one pressing the picture to his chest and you feel a twinge of pain shoot from it, but you hardly care.

“Is there a problem, here?” The voice of Steve Harrington breaks the tension and Billy eases up; it almost looks like he pulls a mask over his face and instead the look, angry and, perhaps, guilty, he wears a lopsided smirk as his hold on you loosens and he slips the picture from you and hides it in his jackets pocket. He looks at Steve, regards him up and down before looking at you, at your now composed expression of aloofness, yet your eyes remain sharp and hateful.

Billy licks the side of his lips, before leaning closer to Steve, “Mind your own fucking business, Harrington.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” You say casually, “Mind my own fucking business. Join me, Steve? I’ve had enough of shit company for one morning.” You add, taking a step back and glancing at Steve. Still unsure, he nods, and the two of you push past Billy and mix into the stream of people flooding the halls.

“The hell was that about?” Steve questions. You shrug, “Hey!” His voice jumps in volume and you snap at him, “Cut the bullshit, okay? How do you know Hargrove? He’s real trouble, let me tell you that.”

Uncertainty spikes in you. For a split second you wonder just how much you want to tell him. Steve had made an impression of a good, understanding guy. But this problem is bigger than a silly little breakup. He might not understand. And you can’t risk someone else besides you and Hargrove knowing what actually happened that day. Clearly, Billy doesn’t want the truth to get out, either.

“California is smaller than you think.” You say slowly, watching his expression for any alarming changes, “As for the rest of the story…” Your eyes trail the passing students, “Is gonna cost you.”

His brows knit together, “What? Another dancing contest?”

You don’t want to admit how happy it makes you that he didn’t even think of denying you. You smile, shake your head and release a soft laugh, “No. Playing games with Dustin. Tonight. I can’t be bothered with that stuff.”

He pretends to think of a moment as he leads you to class, “Only if I also get to have dinner at your place.”

“I say goddamn goddamn! We have a deal, Steve.”

part 3?

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A/N: This is my first piece of smut, I hope it doesn’t completely suck ass. Unless you’re into that, then I hope it does. That’s cool too. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Maybe skipping on wearing panties wasn’t the greatest idea, you thought as you felt Harry’s cum making your thighs stick together.


making the most out of the aftershow adrealine.

You could see it in his face when he walked backstage. He was glowing, a mixture of sweat and adrealine, a smug smirk on his face when he spotted you sitting on one of the sofas. His wide eyes were dark and glossy.

All the praising and love did wonders for him, his confidence soothing to the roof, making him all that more desirable. To be honest, it was difficult for you to watch him dancing and going crazy on stage, just knowing that you’ll get to touch him later.

You gave him a sweet smile as he took a hold of your hand, but squealed when he started pulling you through the hallways of the venue towards his dressing room. By this point you knew what was going on, but you could never be prepared for it.

Once reached the right door, Harry slammed it open and thanked the Lord that there was no one to be seen. He pulled you inside, and pushed your body against the cold door. With a quick flick of his wrist, he locked the door and did the same with his lips on yours. His hands were everywhere - pulling you closer by your waist, squeezing your backside, moving up to massage one of your breasts as the other one found a place on your hip.

Nothing could ever beat Harry’s kisses.

The way he can be so gentle and demanding at the same time makes your legs weak. His soft, raspberry lips feel like heaven on your own pair, making it impossible for you to ever get enough of them. As the kisses grew hotter ad heavier, pieces of clothing were removed and thrown somewhere on the carpeted floor.

His expensive floral blazer was the first to go, leaving you at task of popping open the buttons of his shirt. Harry rid you of your skin-tight dress, the fabric now pooling around your feet. His hands roamed around your body immediately, grazing your smooth skin.

“No knickers, huh?” he raised his brows at the sight in front of him.

Over the years, you two have discovered all the things that made the other one go crazy. Quite frankly, skipping on wearing panties was one on Harry’s list.

He knew that neck kisses were your absolute weakness, so he took his sweet time planting soft, wet kisses all around your neck, up to your jaw, then down again to your collarbones. You could feel your breathing picking up the pace, the familiar feeling slowly taking over your body. He moved your bra straps down so he could lay a few kisses on your shoulders before unhooking the clasp and throwing your bra on the pile of clothes on the floor.

His eyes flickered down to your chest, his other hand smoothing the soft skin as his lips found yours again. Your hands were placed on his tattooed chest, slightly scratching as you let them wander down lower and lower. Harry backed you towards the leather sofa in the middle of the surprisingly spacious room, and pressing you gently against the back of it. When he was pleased with your position sitting on the sofa, he spread your legs and stood between them. You felt his hand lifting your chin so he could lock his eyes with your blurry ones.

“Feelin’ naughty today, then? Wanted to tease me like this, yeah?”

His words made you want to roll your eyes back. As much as you loved sweet, lovemaking with him, you equally loved when he was in this mood. In a mood to have his way with you, taking you, using you. Harry being a man with few words, he sure did know how to use them to swoon you over and over again.

Your hands found their way to Harry’s trousers, starting to rid them of his long legs before he slapped your hands away.

“I asked you a question, love,”

“Did you leave those pretty, little panties at home because you wanted daddy to punish you?”

You closed your eyes at that, he knew that him controlling you was one of your biggest turn ons. Your breathing was rapid now, you could feel yourself getting wetter with each word that left his newly swollen lips. His hand landed on your throat, the gentle pressure making your eyes open. His brows were raised, lips apart, his short curls were wild and he looked like he was carved by angels, even with his palm around your throat.

You just nodded for an answer, fully aware that at this state there was no way you could form a proper sentence.

“Such a brat,” he mumbled under his breath as his hands worked on his trousers, pushing the expensive material down his legs. His hardening cock was covered with a pair of Calvin’s, but the sight alone made your mouth water. Suddenly you were reminded just how good his cock would feel on your tongue, how your hand worked on his shaft as your lips suckled on the sensitive head of his cock. How his hips would thrust forward when you took him down your throat, his hands in your hair, holding it away from your face just so he could watch you making him feel ‘so damn good‘, as Harry would say.

You cleared your throat, your dainty hands landing on his ferns. You looked up at him, your eyes glossier than the moment before and mouth salivating.

“I want to taste you.”

With furrowed brows and the oh so familiar smirk on his lips, he pushed your hands away once again.

“No,” he chuckled.

“Like I said, this is your punishment, remember?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes at him. You wanted, hell, needed to feel him in your mouth. He grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Lose the attitude, or I won’t let you suck my cock for a week.”

He dropped to his knees and licked a broad stripe up your slick folds. You gasped, your hands flying straight to his hair. His mouth worked its magic on you, the way he sucked your clit got you seeing stars. His soft tongue lapped up your juices and his groans made your legs shake.

“Oh, God..”

Harry rested his head on your thigh as he sucked on two of his fingers before slowly pushing them inside of your wet pussy. You let out a loud moan when he moved them back and forth against your walls - curling them just at the right spot. He sped up the movement of his digits and his mouth landed on your clit again. He suckled gently, softly nibbling on the sensitive button, watching your body writhe underneath his touch.

He’d told you so many times how he loved to touch you like this, seeing how your body reacted to his touch. Whether it was how your body immediately relaxed when he pulled you in for a hug, or how your back would arch and legs shake when he made you cum.

Your balance was at risk on the back of the sofa when you got closer and closer to your orgasm, your grib on the leather so hard it made your knuckles turn white. Breathless whimpers left your bitten lips when Harry’s other hand came up to massage your breast, flicking his thumb over your pert nipple. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting the spot which made you curl your toes and delicious moans leave your lips. You felt the lovely tension building up, you were so close,

“That’s enough,” he pulled his fingers out of you and pushed them past his lips.

Your blurry mind took a minute to figure out what was happening and when it did, tears started coating your eyes. You wanted to kick him in the jaw, but the sight of him, chin wet because of you, fingers in his mouth, tasting you - was too much to handle. He stood up then, took your hands and helped you to steady yourself on your wobbly feet. He slipped the Calvin’s down his legs and took a hold of his now straining cock, giving it a few pumps. He looked at you, the need evident on your face. You licked your lips as you watched his hand easily moving up and down on his thick shaft, a dribble of precum leaking from the swollen tip.

“You wanted to have a taste?” he teased, as his hand lifted your chin and his eyes met your glossy ones.

Your tongue wet your lips and you nodded your head at him, barely audible yes’s coming from your eager tongue.

“Too bad,”

He twisted your body and bent you over the back of the sofa. A surprised squeak echoed in the air when his hand smacked against your ass, making the skin there blush.

“I hate you” 

With a light snicker he smacked your backside again,

“Yeah? Care to explain why your cunt is soaking wet then? Why it’s so easy for me to - ahh fuck -” he swiflty entered his hard cock into your needy cunt.

“So easy fo’ me to fuck you, huh?”

Each one of his thrusts were harded than the one before, and your moans only got louder and louder, his hand smacking your ass every now and then - the skin rosy and stinging in the best possible way. His hands wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady as he watched his cock moving in and out of your dripping pussy.

“Ahh, yes”

“Are those moans I’m hearing? You were supposed to hate this, weren’t yeh?”

Once again his hand collided with your ass, the bite of his rings made you bite your lips and your eyes roll back. You could feel your pussy clamping down on Harry’s cock, the girth of him scretched you out so good and you couldn’t help it.

“More,” you managed to rasp out, your throat feeling like the Sahara desert.

The crack of his hand meeting with the skin of your bare ass echoed in the room, making your legs tremble. Harry snaked his arm around you, pulling your body against his. His sweaty chest met your back as the other hand wrapped itself around your throat, the slight pressure mixed with the pace his cock was pounding inside of you made all the colours on the spectrum burst behind your eyelids.

“Cum for me, love. Do it,” his own breath was now faltering, a sign of his own orgasm creeping up. The arm that was around your waist lowered down, two fingers rubbing sloppy circles on your clit, pushing you over the edge.

You felt your body scatter, your legs jello, skin flushed as the delicious tension was released. Your hand flew to the back of Harry’s neck, desperate to have something to hold onto. He was close, his groans, grunts and moans proved that. His thrusts were sloppier now, losing the rhythm a bit but the force was still there.

“Fuck, ahh ‘m gonna cum..”

You scratched the nape of his neck, words of encouragement spilling out from your lips.

“Daddy’s gonna cum for me? Gonna fill me up nicely?”

With the final thrusts and loud grunts, you can feel his hot cum spurting inside of you. One, two, three ribbons later his body relaxed against yours. You just stood there for a moment trying to level your breaths before Harry pulled out. The feeling of emptiness made you wince, but then you could feel the warmth leaking out from your sensitive core.

“Well, would you just look at tha’’ ”  he chuckled at the sight of you standing there, on your wobbly legs, wild hair and flushed cheeks, his cum making your inner thighs glisten.

“Oh shut it, I still hate you.”

Imagine: Giving Daryl His First Blowjob and It Leading to Rough Sex

(A/N: Well, it’s official, Norman Reedus has made me complete trash. Enjoy this other lil one shot thing I had to write out).


Daryl had secured the room and he stood there awkwardly as you walked up willfully to him and pressed your body suggestively into his, rubbing your chest up and down his, done with any subtle clues, needing to show him tonight how much you wanted him.

Daryl had recently confessed to you that he had never been given a blowjob before, this leaked out one night during a drunken session of truth or dare between you. You had been hinting at Daryl for months now, trying to get him to see how much you wanted him. After that night, you knew you had to make it up to the man, you planned to do it when the time was right. By looks of this old secure house, you had just found it.

Daryl noticed your eyes on him, his jaw tightened and he stared at you like he didn’t know what to do.

You smiled playfully in response and squared his shoulders, pushing his body back onto the bed behind him, his legs dangled on the edge.

You smile and kneel down in between his legs as you graze your hands up and down his muscular thighs, watching as your hands rub his blue denim jeans harshly, causing warm friction to be created. You lick your lips and rub your thighs together as your eyes lock on to the button of his jeans and his hard cock, throbbing inside its prison. You run your hand over it and intentionally rub it up and down, looking innocently up at Daryl, who is biting his lip and groaning to himself, trying to keep control.

“Shit, Y/N…” Daryl half grunted, half moaned, as his eyes close at your touch.

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gospel around his fingers

Dex slams the door shut and presses against the wood, leaning his head back and sucking in a deep breath. He stares blindly up at the ceiling and–

“Nurse, I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in the room. Not counting me.” Lardo pretends to flip a lock of hair over her shoulder. “We all know I’d smoke you bitches,” she adds, grinning. Her teeth flash in the low lighting, and she knocks back the last of her drink as the gather group lets out joking boos.

They all “ooh” at Nursey as he raises a challenging eyebrow and smirks at Lardo. He makes a show of looking around the room, leering slightly at the other players of spin the bottle – Holster, Dex, Tango, Ollie, Wicks, and a few members of the volleyball and soccer teams. Bitty is grinning from his spot on the floor next to Lardo and Dex, watching as Nursey catches the eye of each person.

“Dex!” The memory is abruptly interrupted as Chowder’s voice comes from beyond the door. “Come on, man!” Dex tries to straighten up, but his legs refuse to work. He sinks down to the floor, back still pressed against the door, trying to suck in deep breaths of air. He drops his head between his knees, squeezing his eyes shut and–

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anonymous asked:

"your soulmate’s hair color is the color of your eyes. the color of your eyes also changes to match the color of their hair if they dye it" is just begging to be an andreil prompt

Here you go! This was really interesting to write, I hope you like it!

For as long as he can remember, people have never wanted to look Andrew in the eyes. Some people’s eyes don’t ever change, other than the natural shifting of childhood, but Andrew’s have been through quite a colorful journey.

Andrew was born with the colorless eyes of those whose soulmate hasn’t been born yet. It’s fairly commonplace, but with his light coloring, some foster families say the blankness is unsettling. He’s a little over a year old when his eyes change to an auburn color. The fiery color is rare, but not unheard of and shouldn’t have been outside of any family’s expectation. But again, combined with Andrew’s serious face, even as a child, few people wanted to look. Which was fine with Andrew. He was safest when he was invisible.

He’s eleven when his eyes begin rapidly changing, first brown, then gold, then black-all manner of colors. It’s strange, but for nine years, he’s free of the red that reminds him how utterly visible his soulmate must be. He’d much rather have the luxury of pretending his soulmate could be anyone. It made it easier to ignore.

He’s had nine blissful years of thinking very little of his soulmate. He’s with the Foxes and he’s not happy, but he’s in a better place than he’s been in his life. Until Neil Josten and his lies and his questions and the way he can play Andrew like a fiddle. And then Thanksgiving happens and he’s definitely not thinking about soulmates.

He gets out of the “hospital” and he wants to tell himself that Neil’s new hair color is the last thing he notices, but he’s always been stupidly aware of Neil, so it’s one of the first.

When he gets back to the dorm, he looks at himself in the mirror for the first time in two months and he wants to put his fist through the glass when he sees those auburn eyes staring back at him.

Neil is somewhat thankful that his soulmate’s hair is light, because it makes covering up the color with contacts easier. The best option of course would be if he didn’t have a soulmate at all, but since he did, at least they were consistent. And it keeps him from looking exactly like his father, so there’s another benefit. Sometimes he feels bad for how strange his soulmate must think he is, but it’s not like they’ll ever meet, so Neil doesn’t think about it.

By the time he gets to the Foxes, he hasn’t thought about his soulmate for a long time. Until Nicky tells him that Andrew’s figured it out about the contacts. He lets Andrew hold his chin and inspect his eyes and thinks he sees a flicker of interest, but quickly dismisses the thought. Neil knows he will be dead soon and things like soulmates don’t matter when you’re not a real person.

He does note that Andrew’s eyes are not colorless. He wonders what person out there is made for Andrew.

They’ve been…whatever they are to each other for over a year now, but the fact that their eye colors link up has gone unspoken for that time. Neil knows it can’t have escaped Andrew’s notice, but he also knows that bringing it up could stop their progress in its track. He never wants to force Andrew into something, destiny or not.

They’re on the rooftop one night though and Andrew is holding his face with no apparent desire to kiss him or do anything but look and Neil says, “Are you thinking about my eyes?”

“Yes,” Andrew says because they’ve been through too much to lie to each other.

“So you know.”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “Of course I know.”

When it doesn’t look like Andrew’s going to leave or deflect, Neil smirks and asks, “Do you want a different color? We can go get some hair dye.”

Andrew considers that. He’s always had an uneasy relationship with his eyes. But he also knows that his having auburn eyes makes the color mean something to Neil other than his father, so he answers, “No. I think I’ll keep these for a while.”

Neil lets himself be pushed down onto the concrete, smiling the whole way.


Summary: In which Draco becomes friends with the golden trio in first year and seven years later he’s hopelessly in love with Harry.

Word Count: 14.6k

Includes: smut yo

you can also read on ao3

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Extra Credit (Part 4)

Okay, so, I just wanna say this is not where I intended for this chapter to go. I don’t want to say anything else and spoil so Enjoy.

Part 3

“…Richie?”  Stan asked again when he didn’t get a response. His voice low as he spoke slowly. Richie’s brain sparked back to life as he pushed away from Eddie with his hands in the air.

“No, um. Nothing, nothing’s going on. I swear!” Richie’s eyes went wide and his mouth snapped shut when he saw Stan’s calm face. Stan turned from him to look towards Eddie, His eyebrow raised slightly in question. Eddie huffed out a breath and stepped backward, his hand dragging down Richie’s tie, knuckles brushed his stomach as he dropped his arm to his side.

“I’ll see you next class, Mr. T.” Eddie said without breaking eye contact with Stan. He grabbed his bag as he walked past his desk towards the door. Stan had turned to watch him leave while Richie hadn’t moved his eye’s from Stan, waiting for the eventual avalanche that was coming for him. Eddie paused at the door and looked back over his shoulder, his brows furrowed and mouth in a thin line. His eye’s moved between Richie and Stan before he turned and left the room.

Silence followed the click of the door closing, as Richie continued to stare at the back of Stan’s head. Stan let out a big exhale before slowly turning to face Richie. His hand coming up to rub at his temple as he fully faced him.

“What the fuck Rich.” He said quietly as he walked to towards the desk in front of Richie. He sat on it and crossed his arms looking at Richie expectantly. Richie had followed Stan’s movements with his whole body. His arms were still held out in front of him, almost defensively.

“Explain… I’ll decide after if I believe you.” Stan said after a few seconds of silence. his voice still eerily low.

Richie gulped in a breath as he lowered his hands and leaned himself back on his desk. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure where to start. He should probably start by denying anything was going on, but that wasn’t really true, was it? Richie wasn’t sure but he didn’t think he would have stopped Eddie if Stan hadn’t walked in when he did.

“I know that didn’t look so good.” Richie started slowly, Stan raised his eyebrows in a ‘No shit Sherlock’ kind of way and Richie gave him a weak shrug before continuing.

“But nothing’s happening between us. He’s just a student that has a thing for me.” Richie looked to see what Stan’s face was showing. It wasn’t much. Stan stood from the table and paced in front of Richie’s desk.

“That was not a good scene to walk in on Rich, even if it was all him. Imagine if it was someone that wasn’t me that saw that… you’d be fired on the spot. I told you, never be alone with a student in a room for this exact reason.” Richie’s eye’s followed Stan’s feet as he continued to pace. He had decided to accept the lecture he definitely deserved without protesting.

“How long has it be going on?” He asked, his moving stopped as he stared at the top of Richie’s head. Richie slowly raised his eye’s up to meet Stan’s.

“What do you mean? I told you already noth-“

“Oh, drop that ‘nothing’s going on’ thing, I saw the way you two were looking at each other. So when did whatever this is, start?” Stan cut him off, crossing his arms in front of him again. Richie sighed and admitted defeat,

“Okay sit back down, Its kind of a long story.”

Richie spent a majority of his lunch hour going over everything that had happened between him and Eddie to Stan in extreme detail. Stan had wanted to know absolutely everything. He smacked Richie on the head when he explained how it had all started. The rest of his reactions were less physical and more emotionally hurtful. Stan had some very creative names on reserve just for Richie.

Stan was quiet as Richie finished recalling what had happened earlier that day and how he had gotten into the predicament that Stan had walked into.

“Well, Bev was right about talking with him. your execution of it was pretty stupid and obviously didn’t work, but it was the right idea, sort of.” Stan said after a few minutes of silence.

“What was I supposed to do. I’m not going to bring it up around other students.” Richie had moved away from his desk and was now leaning on the desk Stan was sitting on.

“Well I would have told the Teacher Rep. as soon as it started to happen.” Richie shook his head lightly. He hated the Teacher Rep. He was an old stuffy man who had zero sense of humor and probably would have brought the issue up to the university board or something.

“-But clearly you don’t want to do that. If I were you I would write an email to this student and explain to him, very clearly why this needs to stop. And also stop calling him Eddie, that’s way too casual. You’re supposed to be the authority figure here.” Stan continued and stood from the desk, he placed the stack of papers that Richie had forgotten about on Richie’s desk.

“I tried to dress more professionally?” Richie offered as Stan headed towards the door.

“Yeah, and how did that work out for you?” Stan asked over his shoulder. “I’m serious Richie, figure this out by next week or you’re going to the Teacher Rep.” Stan called over his shoulder as he pulled the door open. A few students started filing into the room and Richie looked at his phone and saw that he and Stan had been talking for his whole lunch.

He sighed and shot a quick text to Bev before shuffling through his papers to hand back to his next class.


As usual, Richie’s two other classes that day went by basically uneventful. Right as the last class ended he bypassed stopping at his office and went directly to his car. He pulled the driver seat open and tossed his bag into the back seat as he climbed in and grab his almost empty pack of smokes from the console. He cranked the radio up and leaned back in his seat, waiting.

Ten minutes and two cigarettes later, Bev yanked the passenger seat open and hopped into the truck.

“Geez, are you trying to hotbox me.” She said as she waved her hand in front of her face and leaned over Richie to roll his window down with her other hand.

“So Stan knows.” Was all Richie said loudly as Bev took the cigarette from his mouth and flicked it out the window. She didn’t say anything, she just stared at the side of his face.

“Wanna get drunk?” She asked over the music. Richie simply nodded and shifted the car into drive.

During the ride, Bev had turned the music down and forced Richie to tell her what had happened. He grumpily explained how he had asked Eddie to come in after class to talk and how he didn’t know what would have happened if Stan hadn’t shown up and the lecture he had gotten that he knew he would get from Stan.

He finished talking just as they pulled up to The Kings Head. It was a shitty little bar that Bev and Richie liked going to, Stan refused to step foot in it due to its somewhat disheveled exterior. Somewhat was probably to nice actually, the place looked like a complete dump but Bev knew the owner and he was real nice and got them free drinks sometimes, plus the food was surprisingly good.

They entered the bar and the 5 o’clock light from outside was swallowed as the door closed behind them. The windows were tinted and had a variety of posters stuck to them, blocking out any natural light. The medium sized room was lit mostly with dim orange lights that hung over the booths lining the walls. The walk up bar took up the back corner where a majority of the patrons sat.

Bev slid into an empty booth towards the back of the room and waved over towards the bar. Richie sat opposite her and grabbed for the drink menu left on the back of the table.

Dave, the bar’s owner approached their table and took Bev’s hand and kissed it.

“What can I get you two on this fine night?” He asked as he let go of her hand.

“I think were going to need a lot, it’s been a rough day for this one.” Bev reached across the table the patted Richie’s arm. “But first, I think he needs some food. So an order of fries pretty please.” She finished, smiling up at him. He looked over at Richie and nodded before heading back towards the bar.

“So Stan gave you a week. What’s your plan?” She asked as she took the drink menu from his hands and looked it over.

“My plan tonight is to get really drunk. My plan tomorrow is to regret that first plan during class and probably the rest of the day. Anything after that hasn’t been thought of yet.” Richie slid off of the booth bench and headed towards the bar. He ordered a shot and downed it as soon as it arrived, then ordered two whiskey sours for him and Bev. He took them back to the table, almost finishing his on the walk back.

Bev gave him a concerned look before shaking her head and accepting the drink. About ten minutes later Dave returned with a large platter of fries and two shot glasses.

“I brought you a round but It seems that you already got started.” He laughed as he put the platter on the table along with the shot glasses.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, it’s much appreciated,” Richie said as he grabbed one of the glasses and held it up, waiting for Bev to take hers. She gave him that concerned look again before sighing and clinking her glass to his.

A few more rounds of drinks later and Richie was starting to actually relax. He knew that this was probably not the best way to deal with problems but it was definitely the easiest. Bev had found some people she knew and they now sat with them at their table, laughing and drinking much more than he probably should on a Monday night.

Richie headed up towards the bar for the fifth or sixth time and leaned against the slightly sticky countertop, waiting for the bartender to get to him. He tapped his fingers and looked around the decently full bar. He was wondering what kinds of problems these other people were having that they were at this shitty bar getting drunk on a Monday when he noticed the familiar dark brown eye’s watching him from the end of the bar.

His mouth dropped open and eye’s widened. What in the ever loving fuck was Eddie Kaspbrak doing here? He guessed it made sense with the luck he was having anyway right? Why the fuck wouldn’t one of the two people he didn’t want to see be at the exact bar he was at.

Richie’s attention was snapped away from across the bar when the bartender stepped in front of him and asked for his order. He completely forgot what he had come up to get and just asked for the special, whatever that was.

As the bartender moved away to go make his drink he quickly scanned the other end of the bar but couldn’t spot Eddie again.

Was he actually going crazy? There was no way he had had enough to drink that he should be hallucinating. He shook his head and pressed his fingers to his closed eye.

“Looking for me?” A voice asked from his side. Eddie laughed as Richie almost slid off of the counter as he turned.

“You. What are you doing here?” He practically yelled, gaping down at the younger boy. Eddie laughed again and turned to look across the bar.

“Bill said that the food here was really good.” He nodded over to where Richie had seen him sitting before. Two boys were sitting there talking. One was Bill something from class and the other he didn’t recognize. “So far I can’t say I’m the hugest fan of the place.” he looked down at the counter and grimaced as he touched it with one of his fingers. “But I’m starting to like it a lot better.” He finished as he leaned in a little closer to Richie.

Richie’s eyes fell back to Eddie’s and he swallowed down a large gulp.

“Here you go, on your tab?” the bartender asked as he returned with Richie’s drink. Richie nodded, looking away from Eddie and down at his drink. It was a shot that he happily took before grabbing Eddie’s arm and pulling him towards the back of the bar.

“We need to talk.” He said loudly over the ambient noise of the place. Eddie seemed to gladly go along behind him. Richie refused to even glance towards his table as he passed it, he wasn’t sure but Bev was probably giving him some kind of look.

At the side of the bar was a door that lead out into the alleyway. Richie pushed on it roughly and pulled Eddie outside after him. It had grown dark out while Richie was inside, the only light coming from the broken and dangling blub that hung over the door and the light coming from the streetlights in front of the building.

Richie stepped out and placed both hands on Eddie’s shoulders.

“You stay here.” He leaned down so they were eye level. He dropped his hands and took two big dramatic steps backward. Eddie crossed his arms and covered the small smile on his lips with a cough.  

“This.” He gestured between the two of them. “Needs to stop. I’m going to be real honest with you right now, if there wasn’t the whole teacher-student thing, I would probably be down with this whole thing. Actually, I would probably be really down for it.” He stopped when he saw the smirk on Eddie face growing.

“That’s not where I meant to go with that… where the fuck did I mean to go with that?” He quietly asked himself. “Right, no. this can’t happen. Things aren’t supposed to happen between teachers and students, if you were a year younger, this.” He gestured between them again. “would be illegal. Get it? I’m supposed to be the authoritative figure, but I can’t go through class without thinking about whatever this could be.” Richie took a second to breathe. He had started pacing across the alley. Neither said anything until Richie turned to face Eddie.

“You can be the authoritative figure if you want.” Eddie said in a low voice. He took a slow step towards Richie, who held his hands in front of him.

“No, this is exactly what I mean. Stop tempting me God damn it! Stan’s going to fucking kill me.” Richie whispered the last part to himself as he dropped his hands back down to his side’s. Eddie paused at his words. Richie watched as he took a step backwards.

“…Is Mr. Uris your boyfriend?” Eddie asked in a small voice. He had the same look as when he had left the classroom earlier. Richie saw the perfect alibi practically present itself. Without thinking he slowly nodded his head. A sad look passed Eddie’s face before disappearing behind a very fake looking smile.

“Oh… I’m sorry.” He said in a dejected voice. Richie watched as he turned back towards the door.

“I’ll, um, see you Wednesday, Mr. T.” He said over his shoulder as he pushed the door open and disappeared inside.

Richie’s head dropped back against the brick wall behind him. He couldn’t fight off the feeling that he had somehow made a huge mistake.

Okay so like I said this isn’t where I meant for this to go. don’t worry it will eventually get happy lol. 

Part 5


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Vanilla Rules || Chapter 1


Genre: Badboy! au, College! au, romance, drama

Word count: 2.1k (sorry I know its long)

Warnings: Just a lil bit of swearing and mentions of throwing up (just in case anyone has a weak stomach. its not graphic but idk)


The hate saga between you and baddie of the town Park Jimin rests on two very simple (vanilla) rules: 1.) Hate each other for the rest of your lives and 2.)under no circumstances fall in love with each other. But what happens when one of starts falling for the other? Will passion win or will rage take the game?

A/N: if you want chapter 2 then pretty please let me know whether you like it. Honestly it takes a lot more effort to write than read so I dont want to waste my time writing this if the response isn't worth the work I put in. I hope you guys enjoy this and also thank you for taking the time to read it!❤️ I’ll put out a ch 2 teaser depending on how things go. Enjoy reading :)

Prologue || Ch 1 || Ch 2 teaser


Originally posted by h-farah01

Park Jimin was the worst man you ever had the displeasure of knowing. He was cold, rude, arrogant, indifferent to everyone around him. He never cared for anyone but himself. He trampled over people, used them for his own means and discarded them like waste. Everyone loved him, except for you which is why you sometimes wondered whether he seeked you out on purpose. It was a very sick and twisted game the both of you played, but neither of you ever wanted to stop.

“I think you two like each other in a twisted way” Taehyung your best friend would tell you, earning a scoff which was followed by a glare, every single time he uttered the words. No one ever made you feel as frustrated and angry as he did. “You’re wrong. He has it out for me for whatever reason. He doesnt like me” you would state as a matter of factly in turn earning a laugh of disbelief from Taehyung.

Not to mention Jimin was the biggest fuck boy you knew. Not only did he have zero respect for others, he didn’t even respect himself enough to set himself to a good standard because he would fuck anything that had two legs and a vagina.

You really hated him.

He never let any opportunity to mess up your life go amiss. Whether it was purposely making you late for class, or butting his nose in your romantic endeavours and driving your partners away.

“I am the only guy for you y/n” he had told you the time when he had driven away your dumb ex boyfriend by making it look like you had cheated on him. “ Love it or hate it because you are stuck with me princess” After a while you had given up on relationships because Jimin always ensured it didn’t last past one week.

“Thinking about me?” You were startled out of your thoughts as Jimin’s voice rang through your ears. He occupied the seat next to you and you had to stop yourself from retching because the pungent smell of smoke mixed with the cheap beer invaded your nostrils. “Aww was wittle baby missing me? Does precious little Jiminie need an ass kicking” your voice dripped with sarcasm.

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Just Do It, Daryl

Request #1: Can you do a one were they hate each other with a passion, Rick sends them on a run together but they just keep arguing and smut happens (angry sex)

Request #2: Can you do one when Reader meets everyone in the prison and everyone sees right away how many things in common she has with Daryl but they both deny it and are arguing all the time or ignoring each other (whatever you prefer) until one day smut happens and they admit their feelings for each other?

Summary: Season 3 Prison Era. Daryl and the reader don’t get along and haven’t since she joined the group. Daryl thinks she wants Rick and he has a crush on her. Little does he know she feels the same way about him, she just doesn’t want to let him push her around. After yet another epic throw down fight, Rick has had enough and sends you two out on a run alone to figure your shit out. On the run Daryl finally decides to show you how he feels and angry, lovey-dovey smut occurs.

AN: I was in a lot of different places while writing this one, but I think it turned out well. Let me know if you like it! :)


Damnit! There he was again! You complained to yourself in your head as your eyes met the dirty redneck that thought he could just take and do what he wanted.

You huffed, wincing your eyes as he walked toward you down the long corridor or the cell block, you of course just had to be walking the opposite direction, so your paths were forced to meet.

His eyes hardened when you narrowed your eyes at him and his jaw clenched, as he continued to walk your way, not giving an inch or a moment of hesitation.

You both walked toward each other dominantly until your bodies finally met, both of you standing slightly more toward the center than was needed to pass by each other. Your shoulders met with impact and you both cocked your heads over toward each other, with angry eyes.

The moment was filled with tension, but you would not allow yourself to back down, he had been pushing your buttons since the minute you joined this group. He always was blocking your path, wherever in this place you seemed to be, dominantly swooping around you, like he owned everything. You had always pushed back, showing him you were the only boss of yourself, no one else.

You peered into his eyes, yours hard as nails, as you pivoted your right foot around and planted it firmly to the side, squaring your shoulder and your body into his.

He growls a little in the back of his throat, pivots his right foot and squares your body back in retaliation. He eyes squinted and he looked you up and down, “Better watch where you’re goin, Y/N.” He growled lowly and pushed his body into yours.

You shoved your shoulder into his in return and glared up at him, “You better watch who you’re bumpin into, Dixon.” You growled defiantly and forced your body to stay in its defensive position as you glared him down.

You both stood there for what seemed like an eternity, neither one of you budging, until you heard Rick’s voice echoing across the drab concrete walls.

“Not this, again…” Rick said loudly to himself, shaking his head and putting his hands on his hip.

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The Labyrinth Chapter 30

Originally posted by bts-we-are-bulletproof

Genre: Gang AU/ High School AU

Pairing: Reader/Jimin ft. all the members

Length: 6.5k

Summary: Looking back on your past, your life has never been anything out of the ordinary. Although your parents had left you on one mysterious night, leaving you little to no explanations, you live out the rest of your years residing in a new town under the custody of your aunt. That is, until you return to your hometown to investigate the whereabouts of your parents during your senior year in high school. It was that fateful decision that led you to find a boy collapsed on your front porch one night, wounds gaping and life fading when your entire life is spun out of control. Somehow being dragged into a life of crimes in the underground business of his, you discover the twisted secrets hidden behind the world you thought you had known all along. 

1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

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The Matchmakers - Part 7

Art made by the amazing @bambz-art

@setthestarsxnfire​ and I wrote this one together! Hope you enjoy! This one is long so more under the cut~

MC: It’s a beautiful day!

Jaehee Kang: We should do something together

V: Agreed, it’s been awhile since we went out as a group.

ZEN: Like what?

707: Let’s go to the fair~!! ✧◕ヮ◕✧

ZEN: We’ve already been to the fair

Yoosung★: Oh? Since when :3

Saeran: ‘We’?

ZEN: Since
ZEN: Ehm
ZEN: No no, I misspoke
ZEN: I’ve never been there

Jumin Han: …

MC: Great!
MC: Then it’s settled, let’s all go!

Jaehee Kang: I don’t know if it’s something for me.

MC: Jaehee, it’s not the same without you (;﹏;)

707: MC’s secret weapon has been activated!

Jaehee Kang: Ah! I will go, MC!
Jaehee Kang: Don’t cry!

MC: Yaaayyy!!

Jumin Han: I really should finish writing these reports.

V: Come on Jumin, it’s Sunday.
V: Zen, you will be there, I hope?

ZEN: Hah… I suppose I can’t refuse if everyone wants to see me

Jumin Han: Alright, I’ll join.

MC: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Yoosung★: Saeran, you’re not going to protest as well, right?

Saeran: Saeyoung is already dragging me out the door ⌐.⌐

707: Whoo~!

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