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“REDNECK AVENGERS: TULSA NIGHTS” — A Bad Lip Reading of Marvel’s The Avengers

Move Me

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Featuring: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Setting: Season 5

A/N: Happy Smuturday! Follow up from Your Move.


The weeks of healing had been a roller coaster for Spencer, eventually he was able to look forward to the next step in his recovery. After another week of physical therapy, he could ditch his insufferable crutches. He had been so busy with work he hadn’t been able to see Y/N for almost a week. Things had become more serious between them since he was shot on the job. Spencer fully intended to keep the momentum going.

He scrunched his nose as he dialed her number for a ride home. His brown eyes squinted as he surveyed the parking lot that fall afternoon.

“Hi there Spence.”

He cleared his throat, “Hiya, pidge.”

“Are you ready to go?” Her voice shifting in volumes, Spencer guessed she was putting on her coat.

“Ready and waiting.”

“I’ll be there soon, don’t want to leave my man stranded.” He could hear the smirk creep into each syllable. Oh the things that he made come out of that mouth. Spencer closed his eyes and reminded himself that he was in control and his patience would be heavily rewarded shortly.

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6

AOS Rewatch: 1x01 – “Pilot” / Briefing on Mike (1/ 2)

(aka:
‘All I want to get is a little bit closer
All I want to know is, can you come a little closer?

Here comes the breath before we get a little bit closer
Here comes the rush before we touch, come a little closer’) [x]

Read our commentary here. 

anonymous asked:

an AU where Kat and Adena drop off their son for his first day of school and Kat is an anxious mess but Adena is able to comfort her

I switched this up a bit…

They walk him to his kindergarten class together.

The hallways are bright and colorful and Kat keeps her arm wrapped loosely around her wife’s waist while they walk.

She sees his classroom and the teacher stationed at the entrance, greeting new students and parents, and she turns, squats down in front of her son so they’re eye level.

“This is you, bud.”

She smiles, reassuring, and he ducks his face against Adena’s leg, shy and still holding her hand. It’s so unlike him that she knows he must be nervous.

“You remember what we talked about?” she says, tilts her head until he’s meeting her eyes, and he nods. “What’d we say?”

A quiet sort of determination settles over him and he stares back at her. “Be yourself.”

“That’s right. ‘Cause you’re awesome, and you’re totally gonna make a new friend today, I can feel it.”

She hears Adena sniffle above her, knows that her wife is trying so hard to hold it together right now.

Jalil smiles, the first real smile since they left the house, and Kat holds her arms out. “Bring it in.” He giggles, lets go of Adena’s hand to jump forward and give her a hug.

She burrows her face into his shoulder, makes a silly noise that makes him laugh harder as his small arms cling around her neck. “I love you, J.”

“Love you too.”

She pulls back, ruffles his hair then whispers, “Go on, give maman a hug.”

Adena kneels down, wipes at her eye with the palm of her hand and sniffles again.

“Why’re you crying?” Jalil frowns, concerned, and Adena gives him a watery smile.

“Because I am so proud of you,” she says, voice strong, and Kat’s heart aches.

Jalil accepts her answer at face value, says, “Oh, okay,” and Kat laughs.

Adena chuckles too, reaches her arm out, and Jalil leans into her. Kat watches him shield his lips with his hand, whispering something into Adena’s ear that makes her close her eyes, squeeze his small body tight in a hug. She whispers back, gives him one final squeeze, and then pulls away, stands straight again.

Jalil walk up to the classroom entrance on his own and they watch as the teacher greets him with a friendly smile, shows him where his little desk is. He gives them one final wave and then he’s out of view.

Kat pulls Adena into a hug immediately, wraps her arms tight around her and presses a kiss to the side of her head.

“I love you so much.”

Adena sniffles into her neck, murmurs, “I love you too.”

Kat rubs at her back, comforting. “What’d J say to you?”

Adena breathes deep and then steps away, wipes at her eyes and smiles. “He told me he loves me, in Farsi.”

Kat grins, holds Adena’s hand as they walk toward the exit together.

“He knew you needed it.”

This ficlet is a part of my kadena family verse. For other posts in this verse, click here.

Cool

John and Clarice have a daughter who apparently isn’t very happy about her discrete powers


John was almost finished with this pile, Clarice was out on an errand with Marcos and he promised himself that he would get this done before she came home, he had big plans for today and sitting on his desk surrounded by other people’s personal objects was not a part of them.

It was an odd scenario to start with but ever since the attack of the programed mutants that John and the others were forced to change drastically their tactics to select who was eligible to join the Mutant Underground, simple Q&A wasn’t cutting it and so John started asking for random personal objects of whoever approached them.

His unique abilities gave him an edge and he could catch glimpses of their lives as he held the objects, it took a lot of concentration and it was also draining to do it, but he couldn’t risk having it any other way.

When the infiltrated mutants undermined the old HQ, one of them imploded the building and John almost lost Clarice back then; there was a cold shiver every time John went back to that night, the screams, the cloud of debris and that gut-wrenching feeling of realizing that Clarice hadn’t made it out of the building in time.

John should be focusing on the item in his hand, but his mind stubbornly replayed the movie; he was running with the few people left in the building when it started to cave in, there was someone injured that he had to carry out and when he looked back he distinctively remembered Clarice starting a portal to get away, so he was more than confused when he stood outside of a wrecked building without her.

It happened seven years ago and still to this day he could feel the range of agony that assaulted him when someone had told him that she didn’t make it out of the building, he didn’t remember who told him that or who helped him clear the path afterwards, the only thing he clearly remembered was moving away pieces of rubble desperate to reach Clarice and how struck he had been to find her without a scratch.

That was the day they found out that Clarice was pregnant and that their baby had astonishingly created some sort of shield that protected Clarice against the fragments falling around her.

John looked down on the necklace he was holding, it was humorous that it had a small gem for good luck attached to it because that’s how he felt, he had found the love of his life and together they had a beautiful baby girl who was perfect and adorable.

That’s what made everything worth it, the fact that even after all these years they were still fighting for mutant’s rights and living a clandestine life, the HQ was now an abandoned hotel which improved their accommodations, but the security level had gone up like crazy, more than ever John was careful of who was allowed inside of the hotel and close to his girls.

John closed his hand around the necklace focusing on the woman he last saw wearing it, he caught a few broken images of a run, she was racing through a forest at night, he closed his eyes harder, digging deep into what he was getting from the read but he could sense that she was hiding something in her mind, it could be unintentional, but John couldn’t risk it.

With a heavy expression he dropped the necklace on the rejected pile, if he wasn’t sure they weren’t making it into the shelter.

There were times in the past when he would beat himself for turning someone away, but his hard choices were getting easier when he was constantly reminded why he was taking them.

John smiled as the little beauty walked in on cue with his thoughts, from his desk he could tell that Makayla was up to something, she was dragging her feet towards the small sofa in the corner and she slouched there with an over dramatic attitude.

Makayla made a loud sigh and dropped her arms like she was overtaken by deep discouragement.

John waited for it in silence, Makayla was just like her mother, and he could never guess what was coming out of their mouths.

“I’m not a cool mutant.” Makayla groused while staring at the ceiling miserably.

He had to keep in mind that whatever she was conjuring now was important to her and he couldn’t tackle it with a chuckle. “Did I miss something from this morning when you were making a shield to protect a wounded butterfly?”

Makayla scrunched her lips annoyed. “My shield is invisible, no one can see it.”

John left the desk to come sit on the sofa, he picked up her feet so that he could scoop in on the tiny space. “I can.”

“You can see everything daddy, you don’t count.”

He rested her feet back on his lap and tilted his head to adoringly look at her. “I know that, but you can talk to me.”

She shrugged before answering. “I’m not like the others.”

Immediately John frowned, this wasn’t trivial at all and he reached out his hand to her.

Makayla held on to his hand and sat up, she crossed her legs between them with a slow build up to what was bugging her. “Everyone else has cool powers, like auntie Lorna and Aurora and even mommy can make portals and stuff…” she started playing with the feathers on her bracelet. “And some of the other kids can make fire and play with water but I can’t do any of that.”

“Hey…” John softly called for her attention. “You can do things that they can’t.”

“But no one can see it.” She insisted on her complain with a grumble.

“That’s what makes you so special.”

Reluctantly but inevitably Makayla smiled.

“We are all different, we all have different gifts and being able to create ice is as important as tempering a storm.”

“It’s cooler to make fire though.” She muttered. “And I don’t even look like a mutant.”

“Ah, so this is what this entire talk is about.” He concluded with a cock of his eyebrow.

Makayla nodded. “Mommy has green eyes and purple hair and she’s beautiful.” She dropped her voice a little, mommy wasn’t just beautiful, she was super beautiful.

“That’s true.” John had to agree with that, but he was also holding the hand of a mini Clarice, she might have his eyes and his hair, but those porcelain features were just like Clarice’s, not to mention that Makayla was wearing her favorite scruffy denim jeans and her luminous sneakers. “But I know of a princess who looks exactly like her mother and she even have cute little elf ears like her.” He poked the adorable pointy ears before tickling her on the neck.

Makayla squealed to dodge his evil ways, but he was a tickler master and she was out of breath fast. “Stop.” She begged between laughs and squeals.

As the play eased John lovingly stroked her cheek. “Well, I don’t look like a mutant and I can’t do anything with fire which means that my daughter doesn’t think that I’m cool…” he pretended to be a bit upset. “It’s a sad day to be a Proudstar.”

Makayla widened her eyes startled. “But daddy…”

“Yes?” he asked a bit loosely, he was very much ready to slip right into the not cool category, after all at some point that was the destiny of every parent.

“… you’re the strongest and the bravest of them all, and you keep all the mean and bad people away and mommy says that the love that you have for us is our biggest gift.” She explained staring up at him, he wasn’t just cool, he was the best mutant of them all.

John felt that grip on his throat and the sting in his eye, it had to be a thing with the women in this family, they always found a way to sneak in and throw him off balance. “Do you remember what mommy and I told you about using your powers?”

Makayla nodded extremely serious. “That I can only use them if they come from here.” She pushed her little finger against his gigantic chest, aiming straight at his heart.

“It matters very little if you have pink hair or not, the X-gene means that you’re special and unique in our own way.”

Makayla launched her arms around his neck and rested her cheek against his shoulder, she smiled as he hugged her close, there was no other feeling like a bear hug from daddy. “I love you daddy…” The voice came muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

“I love you too princess.” He held his little girl with all the love he felt for her.

“Daddy… can I die my hair pink?” she asked in the same muffled voice as before.

John chuckled. “You’ll have to ask your mother about that.”

Makayla didn’t react at first, maybe mommy wouldn’t agree with that easily. “Can I have a puppy instead?”

He had to laugh. “A puppy would make you cool?”

“Puppies make everything better daddy.” She answered surprised, he had to know that.

John smiled concealed by the hug, Makayla was going to freak out when she found out that his big plans for the day included a road trip to New Orleans to buy a small puppy.

Winter’s War: Chapter 2

Summary: After the death of Doctor Erskine, you and Steve are shoved to the side. You bond during your time on the road. You head to Italy earlier than Steve.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (eventually)

Warnings: language, death, blood, violence

Word Count: ~4,167

A/N: More technical jargon! All of the technical jargon! *gifs not mine* Peggy and Howard will return… eventually.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“Steve’s about to give his report of what happened. We should grab some seats before it starts,” Peggy said, holding her hand out for you to take. You did, welcoming its comfort.

Howard opened the door to the room and you took a deep, calming breath. You would find out who killed your mentor and why… and you would make them pay.


New York, New York 1943

Hydra.

That name haunted your dreams and waking hours alike. The deep science division of the Nazis. The people responsible for killing Abraham.

“I know that look,” Steve said as he sat down beside you, still in his “Captain America” outfit. “You’re thinking about Hydra again,” he said knowingly, commiserating smile on his lips. He set his shield down against your desk and pulled his silly blue winged hood back so it no longer obscured half of his face.

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storm ; [yoonmin || bts]

STORM

Pairing: Park Jimin x Min Yoongi
Genre: angst, kinda smut
Music: first love - BTS / sad piano music tbh
Plot: Jimin’s caught out in a storm, and forced to park his car in a nearby neighbourhood. By chance, he crosses paths with his former lover, Yoongi, and feelings of bitterness, regret, and lust emerge in the tight space of Jimin’s car.

Notes: first time writing angst, first time writing for bts, and first time posting to tumblr so forgive me if the writing sucks or there’s weird formatting errors. anyone have any tips on how tf formatting works?

Word Count: 3,600

The windshield wipers moved furiously, batting the rain out of the way. However, not a second later, it would be covered by the raindrops once more; whatever actions he did was futile against the aggressive storm. Wind howled outside, sending leaves flying from their branches, the thunder roaring in the distance, lighting flashing and illuminating the surrounding sky. The rain beat down on the roof of his car, loudly and angrily, similar to a kid throwing a tantrum. 

A loud clap of thunder made him jump in his own skin, and his hand yanked the steering wheel to the side, his car swerving onto the side of the road. 

Shit, he mentally cursed. Thank god there were no other cars on the highway, it was him and him alone, caught in the misfortune of driving home after a drunken party at one of his friends. The rain was falling down hard, blurring the windshield and his line of sight, therefore he had no choice but to turn out to the nearest exit. 

He kept driving for a while longer, praying that he wouldn’t get into an accident of any sort, before he parked the car to the side of the road in a small neighbourhood. 

Checking his phone, he opened up the maps to see where he was. It had turned out that he was in a neighbourhood an hour away from his place, and he sighed knowing that he could never get home safely, with how terrible the current weather was. His fingers dancing on the screen, he had opened up the messages app and was furiously typing away to his roommate Hoseok, attempting to explain why he wasn’t home yet. Just as he finished the message and pressed send, the signal bar on his phone glitched a couple times, before the two words ‘No Service’ sent his heart dropping down to his stomach. 

He wasn’t much of a curser, but he felt like one when a string of angry swears fell out of his mouth. They sounded bizarre coming from him, his sweet, angelic voice producing bitter words of frustration at the weather that was hindering him from returning home. 

The watch on his wrist showed the time, the two hands forming eight thirty three. 

Knowing that he had no choice but to sleep out here in the car as the storm showed no signs of ceasing, he groaned internally, slumping down in his seat. Unbuckling his seat belt, he attempted to make himself more comfortable, preparing for a night in the cramped space of his vehicle. 

Leaning back into his seat, he started playing a random mobile game he had downloaded a while back, fingers silently tapping at the screen, a grimace on his face each time he died. He continued playing, attempting to kill time, before a sign flashed on his phone, showing that he was low on battery. 

With a sigh, he put his phone down to conserve battery life. Seeing as it was somewhat stuffy in the car, he rolled the window down a slight crack, letting drips of rain, accompanied by fresh air in. 

It was then that he was hit by the smell of cigarettes. The musty stench of smoke invaded his nostrils, and he cringed as a certain memory wormed its way back into his brain. 

Yoongi, he thought, before shaking his head furiously to get rid of said thought. No, he told himself, stop, don’t think about Yoongi.

He leaned closer to the window, the tip of his nose touching the cold glass, rain dripping onto his pastel pink hair as he peered out to see who in the world would be smoking during a storm. 

His eyes made out a figure a few meters away, thin, arm wrapped around his leather clad body seemingly to keep himself warm, a cigarette resting between his lips, shielded from the storm by a tree he was standing next to, and his hand, covering it as to prevent the wind from snuffing it out. He squinted his eyes, looking more closely, trying to make out the facial features of the person that so closely reminded him of… him.

“Jimin. Get a grip.” he told himself out loud, trying to wipe the thought out of his mind. Please, he silently added. Turning his attention back to the stranger, he watched their movements, looking closely as he inhaled the smoke of his cigarette, the same matter being released out after a few seconds. 

“Fuck!“ he heard them swear, and their voice was so hauntingly familiar -  he had heard the same voice spit out curses and insults like a machine gun, fast and vicious. “Damn this stupid storm, the fuck is this dumbass weather?!” they hissed, obviously furious, before taking a long draw of their slowly disintegrating cigarette, huffing out the smoke along with a string of curses. This time, they noticed the curious gaze of a certain pink haired boy, and their eyes met, a shiver being sent down Jimin’s spine at the eye contact.

He didn’t know what possessed him to do so, but it was clearly something as he opened his car door with a creak, stepping out gingerly, taking small but careful steps towards the other.

Black. Black leather pants, most likely going to be ruined by the rain, the same applying to the black leather jacket he was wearing. He was shivering, and you could almost hear his teeth chatter as he shook in the rain, mint green hair soaked and sticking to his pale white skin, his eyes,

oh,

no.

No, not those eyes. A brown so dark that they were almost black, empty, dull and so cold that they could freeze an entire ocean, they belonged to the one and only Min Yoongi.

“Yoon-”

“Jimin.”

Dear god, what did I ever do to deserve this? he wondered, as he heard his own name leave Yoongi’s lips. Oh, his lips. Pale and pink and smooth like the rest of him, he was beautiful in every sense of the word.

“You’re smoking again.” he coughed out; it was the only thing he could think of to say.

“I never stopped,” was Yoongi’s reply. “You dyed your hair. Pink suits you.”

He shivered. He wasn’t very cold, he hadn’t been out in the rain for long and he had on a thick jacket, however he felt himself freeze at his past lover’s words.

“Thanks.” he muttered, his words barely audible over the wailing of the storm.

There was silence between them, the tension so thick that you could’ve cut it with a knife, before finally the older of the two spoke up, his burnt out cigarette slipping through his fingers and landing on the ground, before the sole of his shoe pressed down on it out of habit.

“Do you mind if I join you in the car? I would be home right now but the storm fucked me up and my phone’s dead.” he asked, his gaze remaining on the rose haired boy standing a meter or so away from him.

Yes, yes in fact I do mind, Jimin wanted to reply, but instead awkwardness took over his speech and he replied with a quiet: “Sure, I guess.”

The two went over to his car, and they stepped in, Yoongi immediately taking off his leather jacket which was drenched in water, tossing it aside. Jimin forced his eyes away from the toned muscles on Yoongi’s arms, smooth and perfect as Yoongi had held him - but it was all in the past, and he needed to stop thinking about it.

However, it was all too real, when Yoongi glanced at Jimin, mouth slightly open, trying to form the right words to say, his body language reeking of confidence however through his eyes you could see hurt and a desperate need for affection, despite him trying to hide it with his stone cold attitude. Unlike Jimin, Yoongi was a born liar, and Jimin knew that all too well.

Jimin, on the other hand was the opposite. Even after months of no contact, Yoongi could easily read him like a book, and he could still see the hurt and betrayal written on Jimin’s face, and the sight made his heart hurt, guilt being doused over his mind like kerosene and set ablaze, burning in agony.

He ignored the feeling, however. Yoongi was never one for feelings, he despised them with a passion. That had led to him shattering Jimin; frail, sweet little Jimin, innocent, caring, who had loved Yoongi with all his heart, yet had been let down, hurt - shattered and torn apart by the very same person.

The pieces never fell back together.

And Yoongi knew that, he knew that all too well when the minutes of silence that had passed was finally broken by a shaky whimper, proceeded by a single word, why.

“Why?” Jimin had asked, however he received no reply from the green haired male sitting next to him, in the passenger seat.

“Why what?” Yoongi asked back, although the truth was, he knew exactly what Jimin had meant, however he didn’t want to answer it, he couldn’t since he didn’t even know the answer himself.

Jimin didn’t know what to ask either, therefore he stayed mute.

Why did you cheat on me? he wanted to scream. Why did you fuck Taehyung? He was my best friend, you know? You knew that, Yoongi. You knew that. So why did you fuck him? And… And you had the nerve to blame it on me, as well! You accused me of sleeping with Tae even when I saw you two pressed against each other on my bed, and then you told me to fuck off when I told you what I had seen.

You said I was being overly dramatic. You called me miserable, desperate, horrible names that hurt me, and even when I was crying and begging for you to just stop, just s t o p, you continued and then you left. You left, you packed your bags and went out the door, and you never came back. I heard you blocked my number, I heard you started dating Namjoon within a week after our breakup. Yoongi, why him? Why Taehyung, why Namjoon? Why me? Why?

All those thoughts were jumbled and messy, similar to the tears that began flowing down his face, and he sniffed loudly, fingers searching the car for something to wipe away the tears.

He still looks like an angel, Yoongi thought, and he reached out, he took his thumb and wiped away the salty streaks that ran down Jimin’s face. Jimin, who’s eyes were red and puffy and bloodshot, who’s tears were streaming down his face rapidly, like a waterfall, Yoongi’s finger carefully wiping them aside, something he wished he had done in the past. He wasn’t one to regret, but not doing so was so fucking regrettable, he hated himself for not comforting Jimin when he cried, and even more so because he was the reason Jimin cried.

Yoongi was a shitty person, and everyone knew that. Everyone besides Jimin, although perhaps he had known but instead chose to ignore it out of love. The thought of that made Yoongi wince, thinking of the pain he had caused.

“I’m sorry.” Yoongi apologized, his hand cupping Jimin’s cheek. He brought Jimin closer to him, burying the younger’s head in his chest.

Jimin kept crying, his tears soaking through Yoongi’s shirt, his tshirt that smelled of rain, of cigarettes and of him, the smell not having changed even slightly, and it was then that he realized how much he missed Yoongi. Stop, he once more told himself, but it was weaker than the previous times. He was in such close proximity to Yoongi that he just simply couldn’t, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he just couldn’t.

“Baby,” Yoongi spoke, his voice rough, tired, filled with exhaustion, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. You know I am, you know that I regret it so badly, Jimin - babe, please.” He ran a hand through Jimin’s soft locks, the other around his back, holding him closely, just like he wished he did.

Removing himself from Yoongi’s embrace, he looked into his eyes, darker than black, full of regret and shame, while his own full of sorrow and want. Their faces and lips were just mere centimetres apart, but Yoongi should’ve still waited. He should’ve waited, waited for Jimin to make the first move if Jimin decided to.

But he was Yoongi, and Yoongi was selfish. He was cold, careless, and ignored whatever common sense he had left, instead connecting their lips.

Jimin had mirrored Yoongi’s lips almost instantly, he kissed back gently, their lips clashing, Jimin’s soft, plump ones moving against Yoongi’s, smooth, and hungry, before the kiss turned rough, Yoongi desperately trying to access Jimin’s mouth as he took Jimin’s bottom lip between his own.

Yoongi was a scarily good kisser, which was the reason Jimin hesitated, because he knew that once he started, he couldn’t stop. Yoongi was a drug, and he was an addict, the craving for Yoongi coming back with full force after so long of an absence.

“Yoongi,” he gasped out in between kisses, their lips touching and moulding against one another, “h-hyung.”

That nickname drove Yoongi off the edge, his grip in Jimin’s hair tightened, a few strands sure to have been pulled loose, his tongue dancing with Jimin’s as he deepened the kiss, other hand pulling at Jimin’s jacket, opening his eyes for a split second to find out how to take it off, which he did soon after, the clothing being tossed to the side. His nimble fingers worked at Jimin’s shirt, navy blue striped and long sleeved. Yoongi ran his hands up and down Jimin’s body, caressing every curve and muscle, stroking his abs, before he lightly traced his index finger around Jimin’s nipple, pinching at it gently - just the way he knew Jimin liked it.

“Ahh - Yoongi, please - please don’t tease me like that.” Jimin begged, and Yoongi loved the sound of it, desperate, needy, Jimin wanting none other than his green haired friend.

Friend, ex lover, lover, whichever one it was, it didn’t seem to matter as Jimin moaned into the kiss, his hips grinding against Yoongi’s erection, who let out a strangled groan at the sudden movement.

Jimin was always the more vocal one, and Yoongi had always loved hearing Jimin scream his name. He was intent on hearing it once more, at least just once, he thought as his fingers unbuttoned and zipped down Jimin’s jeans, his erection obvious through the thin fabric of his boxers. Yoongi’s hand lightly stroked him through the cloth, moans and gasps escaping Jimin’s lips, which were now swollen as Yoongi broke off the kiss, instead trailing down towards his neck, pressing his lips slowly down Jimin’s smooth collarbone, a trail of nerves set alight where ever he went. Slowly, he took Jimin’s dewy skin in between his lips, gently sucking and nipping at the flesh, before he went in rougher, marking Jimin as his, marks of crimson and violet blooming on Jimin’s pale skin.

He loved the love bites that he could leave, he loved marking Jimin as his - except for, was Jimin really his anymore? The answer was made clear when Jimin pressed his lips into the crook of Yoongi’s neck, reciprocating with his own, Yoongi letting out small groans as Jimin attacked his neck, however much more gentle than the elder’s movements.

“Yoongi, hyung, I-” Jimin’s voice faltered into a moan as Yoongi’s skilled hands stroked Jimin’s hard, pulsing erection, palming it as Jimin gasped hard, thrusting his all too desirable hips into Yoongi’s palm, the precum leaving a small stain on his boxers.

“Jimin. Jimin, fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.” Yoongi hissed, his fingers hooking into the waistband of Jimin’s boxers, pulling them down, watching as Jimin’s erection was set free, pressing into the firm skin of his stomach.

Yoongi leaned in, pale pink lips kissing down Jimin’s dick, his tongue pressing flat against his length, running along every vein, feeling Jimin’s breath hitch, which urged him to continue, his lips wrapping around the head, a sharp intake of breath being heard from Jimin.

Jimin moaned as Yoongi’s skilled tongue swirled around his tip, before gently running down the length, taking his dick back in his mouth, bobbing his head up and down, before he went deeper, taking all of Jimin’s dick until it hit the back of his throat. He had done this so many times before, but the sensation felt new each time, he could feel Jimin’s hands tangle into his mint hair, pulling at it as he continued moving his mouth.

“Yoongi, I c-can’t-” Jimin moaned out in between gasps. Yoongi’s eyes glanced up, looking into Jimin’s, which were beginning to water.

“Jimin, angel-” Yoongi began, however he was cut off by a quiet sob.

“Yoongi, stop, you-” he choked out, taking a moment to cough and sniff a bit. “you can’t just do this. You can’t just hurt me and waltz back into my life like nothing happened.” Jimin stammered, a bit more firmly this time.

“Jiminie, sweetheart, you know I’m sorry-”

“No. No, you’re not. You’re not sorry, you never are.” the younger of the two cried out, his voice trailing off into a broken cry of anguish.

“Baby, I am. I really am, please believe me. You know I never meant what I said, I didn’t mean a single word of it.” his voice began cracking, Yoongi’s tough facade breaking apart, but Jimin knew better. It has been months, and he knew better than to give in to Yoongi’s sweet talk. It’s what he had done best, what made Jimin give in to his every demand, believe him, trust him - love him.

“You cheated on me with Tae. He was my best friend - you knew that. Do you know how I felt? Do you understand how much it hurt, when I walked in on your lips against his, and your bodies tangled together? I pretended I didn’t see that and a week later I asked you, I asked you if you had any feelings for Tae - I mean what else was I supposed to do? Turn a blind eye to it even though that was the reason I was up at night, crying? Crying because you had fucked Tae the previous night on the bed we shared? You didn’t notice though. You didn’t even question the crying, since you never heard it. You weren’t even home, you’d be out late ‘practicing’, or was that screwing Tae as well?”

Jimin’s words turned harsh, and bitter at the end of his rant, all the bottled up feelings that he’s held in for so long bubbling to the surface in the form of a hateful, vicious anger.

Yoongi stayed silent, he had no idea what to say. He simply looked down into his lap, watching his hands nervously fiddle as he sat there in shame.

“I hadn’t talked to Tae since, but that Saturday when I asked you, you glared at me, and I remember these words clearly, you asked me, ‘What the fuck, Jimin? Just because you’re sucking his dick doesn’t mean I am.’ and that hurt. You knew I wasn’t. I would never cheat on you; I wouldn’t then, I wouldn’t now, and I still love you, that’s why it hurts so much. You wouldn’t ever understand though, would you? You couldn’t, you don’t ever truly love anyone - at least not me - and you couldn’t hurt.” Jimin finished, hot tears burning down his face, and this time Yoongi couldn’t wipe them away. He was shocked, motionless as he sat there, not knowing what to say.

He finally spoke up, voice defeated, quieter than usual: “I-I do love you. Jimin, you may not believe me, but I really do. I know what I did was horrible, and I said all those things because I was scared; I was a coward and Jimin, I’m sorry. Babe, please, I’m so sorry.”

“Yoongi, you had your chance, you had so many, and you know that. You could’ve apologized then, maybe even a week later, but don’t even get me started on Namjoon.” Jimin cried out, hurt fully taking over his soft features, and what was once a cheerful, happy boy, was now a betrayed, bitter soul, once warm eyes now filling with never-ending tears.

“Jimin, chimchim, please, I’m sorry, I’ll change, just please…” Yoongi had never felt so desperate before, but he could’ve been on his knees, begging. All pride and defiance in his character was gone, the only thing left was regret, and his love for Park Jimin, which was now tainted and destroyed by himself only.

“Yoongi… leave, please. I still love you, but you hurt me, and I simply can’t trust you anymore, so just leave, please.and so Yoongi did, not even bothering to grab his leather jacket, he simply opened the car door and walked out into the rain, letting the storm destroy him, the sky crying, its tears mixing with Yoongi’s salty tears that he shed as he walked away from Jimin, just like he did in the past, with his heart aching, an undeniable hatred for himself and his own mistakes pumping through his veins.

I’m sorry, Jimin. I’m so fucking sorry.

And this time he truly did mean it, but there was no one around to hear it anymore.

Originally posted by loveblushes

anonymous asked:

Okay please I need a super competitive Kat with Sutton, Jane and Adena at game night where they play monopoly?

(This prompt came from a comment in another ficlet here.)

Sutton is watching Kat do her dice roll dance, the one she does when she really wants a certain number. Adena’s head is tilted up from her spot next to her, shaking her head and laughing at her antics.

The dice clatter to the board and they all lean in to see the numbers. Jane groans at the same time as her, while Kat’s resounding “Ayyyy!” is followed by a ridiculous dab before she sits back down.

Kat rolled an eleven, which means she’s going to get to the space that Adena needs before Adena does and—

“We tried to warn you,” Jane sighs, while Kat happily moves her piece to Pennsylvania Avenue. Kat starts gathering the money she needs to buy the property that Adena was eyeing.

“Sorry babe.”

Kat’s not sorry at all, face smug while Adena narrows her eyes at her. Kat starts handing her money over to Jane, their designated banker, and Adena leans into Kat.

She puts her hand against Kat’s ear, shielding her lips from the two of them and whispering something. Kat’s cheeks flare pink and her mouth hangs open for a second before clamping shut, and there’s a glint in Adena’s eye when she pulls away to settle back into her spot.

Kat clears her throat. “Y’know, on second thought, I’m gonna pass on this one,” she says, putting her money back down.

“Alright!” Jane jumps, pointing her finger at Adena. “You, both of you, no sexual bribery.”

Adena bites her lip, guilty, but also—“You never said that was a rule.”

Her accent is laced with competitive humor, and Sutton groans again.

Jane looks to Sutton when she says, exasperated, “They deserve each other, honestly.”

“I hate monopoly.”

Panicky (Pietro x Reader)

“Thanks for taking me out tonight, this was so unexpected!” You smile, excited that your boyfriend had finally decided to take you out to the new bistro house that you’d been dying to try.
“Yeah I figured it’d be a nice place to talk…” He trailed, pushing around his food with his fork.
“Talk about what?” You questioned, a nervous smile playing at your lips.
“…how’s the whole SHIELD/Avengers thing going?” He asks with a subtle eye roll.
“Great to be honest, I mean this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me & my powers, I might even get to join the avengers if the training goes well!” You beam, you were so excited about the things you had experienced in the last two months that you didn’t notice the distance and discomfort coming from the man you once loved.
“So you’re really gonna do this then?” He asked curtly.
“Why are you being so defensive? I told you I really wanted to be a part of this and it seems like you aren’t happy for me at all.” You replied.
“I guess I thought it wasn’t gonna last…” He shrugged, raising his glass to drink. The words stung coming out of his mouth. You thought he understood what this opportunity meant to you. You’d spent your whole life hiding your abilities and to finally be able to use them and feel comfortable in who you were was such a big step, how could he not understand?
“What do you mean?!” You asked bitterly.
“I figured they’d fix your powers and then we could be normal, how else would we stay together? I can’t be with a super hero chick!” He spat.
“Seriously?! ‘Normal’?! Am I some kind of freak?! How can you be so inconsiderate? You know how hard I’ve worked for this, how much it means to me!” You yelled.
“Keep it down, we’re in public! I wanted to try to do this nicely..” He said.
“So you’re breaking up with me? Fine, fuck you! I’m out of here!” You stood from the table, pushing in your chair harshly knocking over the glass of wine you had been sipping.
You walked out of the restaurant and immediately started to cry. Making your way down the New York City streets you notice a club with a sign that says ladies night $5 cocktails. Wiping your eyes you sniffle one last time before entering, figuring a few drinks will numb the pain.
“1 flaming dr pepper please.” You say as you approach the bartender. She gladly takes your money and presents you with the cocktail. You sip it before sending out a group text to the ladies of Avengers Tower.
“I’m at this place called The Tiki Lounge, Chad dumped me & it’s ladies night here, GIRLS NIGHT ASSEMBLE!” You send it to Darcy, Wanda & Natasha hoping they’ll meet you and cheer you up. The girls agree and within a half hour the four of you are laughing away in a booth, drinks in hand.
“So he dumped you for being an Avenger?!” Darcy exclaimed.
“He said, and I quote 'I can’t be with some super hero chick!’” You mocked him bitterly, downing the rest of your drink.
“Screw that guy, I’ve got half a mind to find him & open a can of super hero chick whoop ass!” Natasha glared.
“I’m glad it’s over, I’m better off without him.” You sighed.
“Cheers to that!” Wanda smiles.
You grab another drink and head out on the dance floor with the girls, turning the club into your own personal party. The four of you popped bottles and got completely wild, dancing on tables and doing body shots. In the whirlwind of booze you soon forget about your ex, thinking more about the next chapter of your life as an avenger.
“I love you ladies, I’m so happy to have you.” You grin as you slide your arms around Natasha and Wanda’s shoulders.
“Group hug! Get in here Darce!” You shout. The four of you hug as you drunkenly sway to the music.
“Maybe we should head home, I’m so drunk I can hear everyone in the bars thoughts at once.” Wanda laughs. The four of you head out of the club, Wanda pulls her phone out to call a ride as you start babbling all of your thoughts.
“You know, I was feeling bad right? Cuz in training I see Pietro and I’m like 'Daaaaaaaaamn’ cuz he’s like hot as fuck. But I was feeling bad for thinking like that cuz of Chad but now he’s gone, I think I’ll follow that old saying 'get over him by getting under someone else’ cuz you know I’m tryna get under that speedy sokovian!!!” You laugh hysterically as you hug Darcy.
“(Y/n) & Speedy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” She chants as the two of you spin in a circle. Meanwhile Wanda has Pietro on speaker phone & he’s heard this whole thing.
“Was that (y/n)?!” He wonders, voice laced with shock.
“Yes, brother- drunken mind speaks sober heart. I tell you all the time I am right but you never listen. I’m literally a mind reader! Anyway, please pick us up, we’re at The Tiki Lounge on 22nd street.” Wanda says. “I heard you (y/n)! He likes you you know?” Wanda raises a brow as she turns to you.
“Nuh uh! He’s flirty with everyone!” You state.
“But he only means it for you, I read his mind and its hearts with your name in it.” She giggles making a red heart silhouette appear before you. You chit chat for a little longer, Wanda’s revelation swirling around your mind along with the alcohol in your system. Suddenly every passing glance and inside joke between you and Pietro seems to mean more. Soon enough Pietro pulls up in the suv.
“Hello ladies, I see girls night has treated you well.” He smiles and opens the door. Darcy and Natasha climb into the back seat first, Wanda lightly pushes you toward the front passenger door, you miss and fall into Pietro’s chest.
“Shot gun!” You giggle. He laughs and spins you around, opening the front passenger door before helping you into the seat.
“Thank you speedy.” You smirk, staring up at him. He reaches across you, buckling the seatbelt.
“It is my pleasure.” He winks as the seatbelt clicks into place.
Soon you’re on the road, driving past various fast food places.
“You know what would be awesome right now?!” Darcy muses.
“McDonald’s! Can we stop pleeeeeeease?!!” Wanda finishes Darcy’s sentence.
“Fine.” Pietro huffs as he turns into the drive thru. Wanda and Darcy high five in celebration.
“Welcome to McDonald’s, go ahead with your order whenever you’re ready.” The cashier says through the speaker.
“Ooh can I have a large fry? And a coca cola!” You say. Pietro repeats your order to the cashier, going down the line he relays all of the girls orders before pulling around to pay. He hands you your drink then passes the bags back to the girls.
“Here’s your fries (y/n).” Nat says as she passes you the red box of salty potato sticks. You stuck a few in your mouth, savoring the salty goodness.
“Wanna fry?” You asked, dangling one near Pietro’s lips. He responds by taking the fry into his mouth.
“Thanks frumoasă.” He replied.
“Frumumuh what does that mean?” You ask, stuffing another fry in your mouth.
“He thinks you’re beautiful.” Wanda laughs.
“Your welcome handsome.” You giggle, patting his thigh. The rest of the ride is mostly silent, save for the sounds of burger chewing & soda slurping. Pietro side eyes you throughout the ride, glancing as you drunkenly day dream. In your head you were contemplating your situation. Even though you’d had a great night out with the girls & were spouting brave words of being over it you still couldn’t help feeling sad about the break up. The thought of being alone made you want to cry, so you closed your eyes hoping to stop the tears from flowing.
Pulling into the car park underneath the tower Pietro stopped the SUV. The girls stumbled out, heels in their hands as they started to head to the elevator. Pietro sighed as he saw the wreckage of McDonald’s bags and cups strewn across the backseat, he got out to pick up all the garbage. It was then you noticed you were crying, eyes misting like a lawn sprinkler.
“Are you coming (y/n)?” Natasha called, looking back at you.
“Too tired to move.” You lied, tugging your knees up in the seat.
“Pietro make sure she gets in ok, please?” Natasha said.
“Of course I will.” He half smiled.
After taking the trash to the bin he comes back to the passenger side door, looking through the window he sees your shoulders rocking with your sobs.
“What is the matter?” He asks, opening the door. You turn to him, eyes glazed over as little black tear tracks stain your cheeks.
“He never believed in me. He thought SHIELD would fix me and make me normal.” You spoke the realization, your ex never truly loved you, he never really accepted who you were. Pietro frowned, his heart broke seeing you like this. He scooped you up in his arms, kicking the door closed behind him.
“I’m gonna be alone forever, I’m a freak.” You continued.
“No (y/n), he is going to be alone forever. You are a beautiful person with an amazing gift, you help people & he is stupid for letting you slip through his fingers.” He soothed as he wiped the tears from your eyes. You held onto him tighter as he walked to the elevator, pushing the button to the residential floor.
“You’re a good guy Pietro, handsome and sweet.” You smiled, twirling his silver locks in your fingers. He knew you were drunk and thinking out loud but he had to admit he enjoyed your touch as you played with his hair.
“Uh huh, & you are ready for bed dragoste.” He chuckled lightly. The doors opened to the hallway of the living quarters. He stepped out, carrying you toward your room.
“I mean it, speedy. You’re so sweet. and handsome. and nice.” You
Punctuated each compliment with a kiss to Pietro’s neck, for the first time in years he thought his legs would give out.
'She’s drunk, this is not real Pietro. Just get her to bed!’ He thought to himself.
“(Y/n) I do not think you want to be doing what you’re doing.” He forced the words out of his dry throat.
“Why not? You think I’m beautiful right? Fromuh-what ever.” You stumbled over his word from earlier as you looked up at him.
“You are beautiful.” He said, looking at your angelic face. Your eyes burned holes into his better judgment, incinerating it as your palm cupped his face, thumb brushing over his stubble.
“Then kiss me.” You lick your lips, grazing your teeth over your bottom lip. He couldn’t resist the temptation anymore, giving into your soft, supple lips. Your legs wrapped tighter around him giving him the leverage to hold your bottom with one hand while the other tangled into your silky (h/c) tresses. Your lips pursed open to allow the kiss to deepen, tongues moving in sync. You grind against him, wanting him so bad in this moment. He uses his speed to get to your door, pinning you against it he begins kissing your neck. You moan out before he stops, breathing hot against your neck.
“What’s wrong?” You ask as he let’s you down, feet thumping to the floor.
“We cannot do this, not in this way.” He sighs.
“But I want you,” you say as you start kissing up his neck again.
'Oh printesa, you are killing me! Please let me do the right thing.’ He thinks.
“I’m drunk, I don’t care.” You laugh, pulling him into another kiss. He starts to give in.
'Nyet! Pietro get out of here now before she hates you and you hate yourself in the morning.’
“Well I do, go to bed. I will see you tomorrow.” He says firmly before speeding off. You open your door, stumbling in before you begin crying again. This time it wasn’t the break up, it was the shame of throwing yourself at Pietro. You just wanted to feel loved. You kicked your heels off and immediately collapsed into your bed, hoping you’d wake up and this all would be a dream.
——————————-
You wake up, eyes puffy and still in your dress from the night before. The night starts coming back in flashes. Dumped. -Ouch!- Ladies night. -Nice.-
Throwing yourself at Pietro and getting rejected! -*hurl*- Your stomach wrenches at that last thought. You run to your bathroom, immediately puking your guts out.
'Fuuuuuckkkkk! Fuck fuck fuck fuck!’ Is all you can think as you lay on the cold linoleum floor. You pull yourself up when you hear your phone go off. Trudging back to your bed you grab your phone, seeing a text from Steve.
“Nat informed me of your unfortunate circumstances, I’m not expecting you in training for the next couple days. You’ve got 48 hours to clear your head and refocus, chin up soldier :)” you appreciated the time to yourself, maybe you could hide out and some how never see him again? You texted back a thank you before heading back to the bathroom. You brushed your teeth and got cleaned up before fixing some breakfast. Just as you finished your last bite a knock came at your door. Creeping to the door you peak through the peep hole, the blood drains from your face and you think you might be sick again when you see who it is.
Pietro stands on the other side of your door, hoping to explain last night, hoping you aren’t mad at him.
A few moments pass before he knocks again.
Nope, definitely not- abort mission! Not answering the door.’ You think as you quietly tip toe away from the door. He waits a little longer before walking away in defeat.
You spend the next 48 hours in your quarters, avoiding everyone and racking your brain.
'Why (y/n) why?! *Get over him by getting under someone else* haha good one! Now I have to live knowing that Pietro thinks I’m a dumb slut. Chances of actually getting to be with Pietro are now 0 at best.’ You sulked. At the end of your quarantine you emerge from your room dressed and ready to train. You’re speed walking to the elevator when a blue blur races toward you.
“Hey (y/n)-”
“Don’t talk to me.” You cut him off. He immediately speeds away, you feel awful but you just can’t deal with it. For the next week you make sure you don’t see him. You request to train exclusively with Natasha in one on one sessions, citing your need to polish your assassin skills. You train hard, letting Natasha put you through the ringer of her red eye training sessions. You’re up and ready by 3:00 am and train for 4 hours. When you aren’t training you’re hiding in your room.

“Just talk to her, explain your feelings.” Wanda says. She’s sitting in the recliner of her room as Pietro lays sprawled upon her couch. The scene lends itself to the analogy of the psychiatrist and patient.
“I did, you should have seen the way she looked at me and snapped. Four words and I still bleed from the wound.” He whines.
“This must stop brother, we are all a team which means we need to all be on the same page. Not to mention you both drive me mad, minds whirling in turmoil at all hours of the night and day!” She hissed.
“What does she think about?” He asks, sitting up to pay full attention.
“That is not for me to tell, talk to her. That is all I will say.” She responds.
It’s the beginning of week two of your special training with Nat.
You run into her on your way to the elevator.
“How’s it going?” She asks.
“Ok I guess…” You respond.
“How’s your 'speedy sokovian’?” She raises a brow.
“Oh god do people know what happened?!” You grimace. It had been a little over a week with no words spoken between the two of you and you knew he wouldn’t tell anyone about what happened, save for Wanda maybe.
“No, what happened?” She asks, truly perplexed. She figured you had undertook this training camp in hopes of distancing your mind from the break up, she hadn’t thought Pietro had anything to do with it.
“So that night when I was drunk…I did something awful…I completely threw myself at Pietro! Like making out, gross, practically begging him for it! Just assassinate me Nat, he probably thinks I’m an idiot.” You conclude.
“Have the two of you spoken since it happened?” She wondered.
“No! I feel so gross, embarrassed and rejected. The worst part is I actually do, well, did kinda have a thing for him and now it’s ruined.” You huffed, thinking about seeing him made you feel like throwing up, let alone actually speaking words.
“You’re gonna have to get over it, especially since you’re on the team full time now.” She smiled.
“I’m a real Avenger now?” You beamed at the news.
“As soon as you sort this out with speedy.” She replied. You grumbled at the statement. Entering the training room you started your rounds, feeling good to be doing something to keep your mind off things. The session goes well until he whirls through the door.
“Finished my laps, now what?” He says as he takes a few steps forward; eyes falling straight to yours, catching you in his sapphire gaze.
“Are we done?” You ask Nat, eyes pleading for her to say yes.

“How about a bit of sparring, you and (y/n).” She answers as she walks toward the bench, sipping from her water bottle.
As he approaches you a toxic cocktail of emotions spring forth. Anger, lust, embarrassment. You square up, throwing the first punch you decide to pick anger as your chief emotion. He dodges it with ease, throwing one back. You start off slow but as the tension mounts it starts to have the potential of becoming a real fight. He kicks when you think he’s gonna punch causing your legs to be swept from under you.
“Why’d you leave?” You blurted angrily.
“Why didn’t you answer the door the next day?” He retorted. At this point Natasha had quietly stepped out. He tried to help you up, you scooted away, rolling onto your feet on your own.
“Cuz I felt like an idiot! I threw myself at you and you rejected me! I felt like a cheap whore!” You crossed your arms and turned away from him. He zipped back in front of you.
“I didn’t reject you! Believe me you made it very, VERY hard to leave. I didn’t want to take advantage of you. You don’t even remember what I said do you?” He waited for an answer he was sure you didn’t have.
“I said not like this, not that I didn’t want you! I just didn’t want you when you were drunk and vulnerable. It would have been wrong.” His voice had calmed a little. Suddenly, like a kick in the mouth you remember Wanda’s confession of Pietro’s supposed feelings for you. Embarrassment flooding your being your eyes fall, unable to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry, ok? That night I just wanted to feel something besides being hurt and I didn’t expect you to be a gentleman & I felt so alone. I twisted everything to try & lie to myself so it would be your fault. I was embarrassed, in the whole time I’ve been here you were always so good to me & I thought I ruined it.” You confessed, wiping tears away.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” He took you in his arms, kissing your forehead.
“So can we be friends again? I miss having someone to make fun of people with.” He chuckled.
————————————
After making up with Pietro the two of you became close again, flirting and joking with one another. You were currently hanging out in the common room after a training session, laughing at a prank Pietro had pulled on Clint.
“So what are you doing tonight?” Pietro asked as he sipped his water.
“Netflix and chillin’.” You chuckled.
“You should come 'chill’ in my room.” He smirked.
“And why is that?” You mused. He placed his arm around you, the very action causing a heat to rush through you.
“Because I will provide candy, pop corn and a nice surface to snuggle upon.” He stated matter of factly.
Pondering his proposal you tapped your chin.
“Candy you say? I suppose I can raid your candy stash and make you watch chick flicks.” You grinned mischievously.
You made plans to meet at his quarters at around 8. This gave you time to relax, shower and take a nap.
When the time came to get ready and go you chose to stay casual in leggings and an oversized slouchy sweater, throwing your hair in a messy bun before heading over to his room. You barely knock before he answers.
“Welcome to movie night!” He smiles, ushering you into his room. You can’t believe your eyes when you see the amazing set up he’d created. Scented candles lined the book shelf on the back wall, he had set up a plush pillow sanctuary in front of the TV, pop corn and six different candies laid along the coffee table.
“This is so sweet! I’m never going to be able to eat all that candy.” You laughed as he scooped you up into a hug.
“Who says the candy is for you?” He chuckled giving you a kiss. You snuggled up in the pillows, scrolling through the movie selections as you munched on skittles.
“Comedy, Romance, Scifi, horror…what do you prefer?” He asked.
“Comedy!” You cheered.
Settling on a Seth Rogan film you laid with Pietro contently. As you watched the film Pietro found himself looking down on you, enamored with your smile and adorable wrinkle that appeared in your nose when you laughed. He leaned in, quickly pecking your nose with a kiss, you smile up at him returning the gesture with a peck on his cheek. You returned your attention to the movie, laughing as you and Pietro took turns trying different candies. When the movie was over you found yourself laying in Pietro’s lap while he played with your hair.
“What next printesa?” He mused as his fingers gently massaged your scalp.
Your mind travelled back to what he had said when the two of you were sparing.
“Actually, you said something before and I’ve been wondering about it ever since…” You trailed, looking up at him.
“And what have you been wondering bomboană?” He asked, pulling you closer to him.
“What exactly made it so hard for you to leave that night?” You asked, sitting up as you tossed your hair out of your face.
“Well, what do you remember?” He smirked, stretching out with his hands behind his head. You proceeded to straddle him, running your fingers up his torso, a small grin appearing as his muscles tensed under your touch.
“I remember kissing you…here. Here. And here…” You said as you placed kisses on his neck, slightly sucking and nipping at his skin, he let out a sharp breath. His eyes were closed, enjoying the feel of your body against his.
“Then I remember saying 'kiss me’.” You whispered in his ear, running your fingers through his hair before bringing your lips to his, enveloping your senses in the taste of his kiss. His arms wrapped around you as your arms slung around his neck, hands gently tugging the hairs at the nape, rolling your hips as he bucks up into you with a groan.
Soon your clothes are falling off and the two of you are down to your underwear, clothes strewn across the floor as Pietro peppers your neck and chest with hungry kisses. You can’t keep your hands off of him, craving constant contact as he pulls your bra straps down, eyes devouring you with an animalistic glare. You quickly unsnap the back, freeing yourself of confining fabric, his hands knead at your breasts, fingertips pinching the sensitive peaks as your mouths connect once more. Your back arches, removing one hand he places his mouth upon your breast as his newly free hand slips into your panties, strumming your slick center. A few high pitched moans escape your throat before he pulls away, bringing his fingers to his lips for a taste. You sit up, kissing him before sucking the juices from his fingers, focusing on his oceanic eyes.
“My sweet printesa.” He sighed, biting his lower lip. You kiss a trail down his body, tugging down his boxers you palm his head, stroking down the shaft. His head falls back, jaw slack as you take him into your mouth.
“Esti asa de bine printesa..” He groaned. You continue bobbing down, taking every inch into your mouth, his pleasurous moans igniting a fire within you.
“Mm, I need you.” You sigh, stroking him. He brings you up for a kiss before laying you back, gently parting your legs, teasing you with just his tip.
You instinctively buck up against him, craving his cock.
“Pietro please!” You whine, and he obliges. Finally filling you with his hardness. His thrusts are slow and deliberate at first as he savors the precious look on your face, eyes soft as you bite your lower lip.
“Keep going…faster.” You gasp, sitting up on your elbows. Pietros hand is soon threaded through your hair as he hungrily kisses you, picking up the pace. You reached a hand up, digging into his shoulder blade, eliciting a groan from him.
He kisses and sucks the crook of your neck, growling explicit praise in his mother tongue. Soon your bodies are in rhythm, writhing in an animalistic dance of bliss and pleasure,
“Fuck” you all but squeal when he bites into your neck, causing you to scratch your nails down his back eliciting a deep growl from him.
“Keep going, keep going…you feel so good.” You breathe.
Pietro grips your thighs, pinning you down as he thrusts deeper than before and soon you’re cumming undone. Writhing and moaning, he moves his hands from your thighs, pulling his arms around you he brings you to his chest. You grind down on his shaft, sharing a lusty kiss as he releases his seed.
He lays you back against the body pillow you were sitting against before, kissing you on the forehead.
“Shower & sleep over?” He nudges into you, kissing your shoulder.
“Of course.” You smile.

The End.

(Tell me if this is good or not, ok?)

Mornings » Delsin Rowe

Pairing: Delsin Rowe x Reader

Fandom: Infamous: Second Son

Words: 742

Summary: You wake up every day to the face of your loving boyfriend, Delsin.

A/N: Alright, I suddenly had this cute idea and decided to write it! Mary, [@waterbird-loves-pasteis or @shay-makes-my-luck ] this one is for you! I seriously hope you like it! ❤️ Also, let’s pretend that morning breath doesn’t exist.

Originally posted by condvit

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Rose Colored Boy Pt.1 (Jerome Valeska x Reader)

Originally posted by twofacedharveydent

Part 2  Part 3 Part 4

Story: Jerome Valeska is a deranged maniac, but what happens when you end up a part of his world and he expects you to keep up with him. Will he help you grow? Or will things crumble into a deeper chaos?
Warnings: Some description of violence
Word Count: 1,215

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H.G x Reader #11

Prompt: Hermione and you are reading together when Harry and Ron tease and hint about your mutual feelings for each other.

“Hey Herm,” the chair beside you was scraped back as one of your friends plopped down beside you. You didn’t bother looking up but, Hermione paused.

“Hey [Y/n].” You sighed, looking up to see Harry pulling the chair next to Hermione and grinning deviously as he sat down.

You shared a confused look with Hermione.

“Uh… hey guys.” She answered looking between the two boys.

“What are you doing?” Ron snatched the book you had been previously reading and inspected it.

“Well before we were so rudely interrupted, we were enjoying ourselves.” You replied, snatching the book back and placing it between Hermione and you.

“Is that so?” Harry raised a brow.

“Yes.” You responded.

“It it a love book?” Ron asked, looking over Hermione and you and smiling at Harry.

“Uh… no. I don’t like romance books.” Hermione muttered, flipping the book open in search of the page you had left off on.

You hummed in agreement. “Neither do I.”

Harry chuckled under his breath and Ron just burst out laughing.

What is so funny? You wondered.

“What?” Hermione frowned her brows pinching together in discomfort.

“Maybe you should take a page or two out of the romance books!” Ron wheezed.

You blushed and looked down, hoping Hermione hadn’t seen that.

Hermione on her part looked away from you, her cheeks flaming, biting her lip and daring Harry to add anything else.

“Well… we’ll leave you two to enjoy each other-”

“Ron.” You said, warningly, glaring at him.

“-I mean… you guys enjoy your book. See you later.” He stood up abruptly, Harry following and Hermione and you watched them, twin glares on your faces.

“What was that about?” You shook your head in annoyance.

“I’m not sure,” Hermione responded, brows furrowed but, the light glow still on her cheeks.

“Anyways….”

“You two are nerds.” A voice rumbled above you.

You looked up, rolling your eyes.

“Thank you for noticing, Ronald.” Hermione glared.

“You really do deserve each other, honestly.” Harry said, high-fiving Ron, and running away.

You cleared your throat, your eyes glowering daggers at the back of their retreating heads and awkwardly met Hermione’s eyes. You gave her an embarrassed smile and she bit her lip, looking down and shielding her face with her hair.

You smiled at the cute quirk and went back to reading.

Hermione and you had moved out of the library and had been discussing the book you had just finished in the common room when she broke eye contact with you and glanced behind you for several seconds. She sat still, her lips parted into an ’O’ shape, stunned. She clenched her eyes shut and shook her head, going pink.

Confused, you looked behind you.

There was no one there. You turned back to Hermione, raising a brow.

“Uh, you okay Herm-” Your eyes widened at the sight in front of you, but, you quickly replaced it with a cold scowl.

Ron and Harry were wound up in each other’s arms behind Hermione’s seat, their heads merely centimeters away as they puckered their lips and made kissing noises.

You made a sound at the back of your throat as you reddened, hoping Hermione hadn’t seen that.

Sadly, unfortunately for you, she swiveled around and gasped, a hand flying to her mouth.

“Ronald!” You screeched, hand going to grab the wand on the desk.

“Harry!” Hermione screamed, getting out of her seat and rushing to catch him.

The boys laughed maniacally as they ran out of your reach around the common room.

Just as your fingertips grabbed the collar of Harry’s shirt him and Ron apparated out of the room.

Hermione and you looked at each other, both flushed, and chests heaving. They were so going to die.

For the past few hours Hermione and you had been speaking in low volumes, drinking hot chocolate and sitting in front of the fireplace. It was late now and everyone had retired to their respective dorms but, Hermione and you stayed up, ranting and sharing information- just talking about random things really.

You had begun the afternoon reading with your favorite witch, but as soon as evening rolled around and you switched activities, so did your train of thought.

You hadn’t been listening to what she was saying. Not really. But, she was speaking enthusiastically and you watched her fondly, your face in your hand, a goofy from in your lips as you propped up your elbow on the armrest.

You studied her features, drinking in every possible thing you could. Any quirk or twist of her lip and glint in her eye. Somehow you always ended up observing her lips though.

Puffy pretty pink lips. The ones that looked so soft and warm.

You knit your brows, noticing that said lips had stopped moving. You scanned Hermione’s face and took in the tiny smile, borderline smirk, at the edge of her lips and the warm eyes twinkling with something akin to amusement. The expression which was directed to you.

You both stayed still for a couple of seconds, just sitting at the edge of your seats, knees touching and idiotic smiles gracing your faces.

You were both so absorbed in absorbing each other that you didn’t notice the two people sneaking behind each of you.

Harry raised his hand slightly, catching Ron’s attention over your head.

Ron nodded, letting him know he was paying attention and then Harry lifted up three fingers, mouthing until he got to one. At the same time Ron grabbed a hold of the back of Hermione’s head and Harry seized yours, smashing your heads together.

Your crashed into each other, foreheads bumping painfully and warm lips meeting. You both groaned against each other lips and flinched, instinctively pulling away and turning scarlet.

“Finally!” Harry and Ron cheered, both grinning like Cheshire cats.

You looked at Hermione with wide eyes. Hermione pursed her lips, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide.

“Hermione, I am so, so-”

Hermione pressed a finger to your lips, silencing you.

She peered back to where Ron and Harry were- both climbing up the stairs to the dormitories ridiculously slowly, and threw her a thumbs up- then turned back to you.

She smiled shyly at you, giggling at your starstruck expression and removed her finger. She leaned in and paused just seconds before she reached your lips.

She looked into your eyes, silently asking you a question.

Is this okay?

You sat frozen in shock but slowly nodded and pressed your lips the rest of the way against hers. Your eyes fluttered close as she sat herself onto your lap, her hands tangling gently into your hair while yours wrapped around her waist.

This was more than okay.


A/n: Dedicated to the @Anon who requested this💜