look at how they gravitate toward each other when they laugh

why i ship minjoon and you should too

homegirl effie back again with those rarepairs and aggressive bullet point lists

  • first of all jimin and namjoon have very similar hard working and level headed personalities

Originally posted by minjooninlove

  • of the two, jimin is more outgoing and open with his emotions, and he’s always there to support namjoon

Originally posted by jiminiminii

  • jimin understands namjoon’s shyness and he’s good at getting him out of his shell in interviews and whatever?? like he’ll comfortably tease or cuddle up to him and you can see how namjoon loosens up
  • n then he laughs at namjoons suffering
  • ok n below like this lil shit joking about tae hating joon lol AND THAT LAUGHTER HES SUCH A PLAYFUL BRAT

Originally posted by yoongichii

  • a mean lil koala !!!! love

Originally posted by eyesmiletrash

Originally posted by chimchiminie13

  • they are dorks together rip me
  • namjoon is really intelligent and passionate about music and jimin admires that about him and that’s why he asks his advice on lyrics and all that aka for Tony Montana
  • JOON LITERALLY LOVES JIMIN OK LIKE HES ALWAYS SQUEALING OVER HOW CUTE HE IS AND NAMJOON HAS THE MOST COMFORTABLE SKINSHIP WITH HIM

Originally posted by mnnsuga

  • FUCK THIS IS SO CUTE
  • *punches wall* IM NOT cryING 
  • *chokes back tears*

Originally posted by officerjenissi

Originally posted by jimin4everyone

  • Jimin is insecure and needs validation and namjoon is always the person remembering to compliment jimin and remark on how handsome he is and how important he is to bts

Originally posted by jitonic

  • WHEN THEY LAUGH OR SOMETHING EXCITING HAPPENS THEY ALWAYS FALL INTO EACH OTHERS ARMS?!??!?

Originally posted by joonjuly

  • so FUCKING cute !!!!!!! ugh!!
  • JUST IN GENERAL namjoon just naturally gravitates towards jimin?!?!

Originally posted by taegied

  • wow LOOKS LIKE BOYFRIENDS TO ME!
  • also joon loves making jimin laugh!??!?! HE LOVES TAKING CARE OF HIS BB !!!!! 
  • LASTLY DRUM ROLL PLEASE
  • THEY EXCHANGED “I LOVE YOU”’S WHILE WATCHING FIREWORKS


please love them because they fr love each other

Married with Benefits (Part 5)

Summary: In order to not pay out-of-state tuition, you ask your friend, Steve Rogers, to marry you. Things, as always, never go as planned. (College AU)

Word Count: 605

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

A/N: Come scream with me :)

Originally posted by your-kylie-me


It felt more eventful than it actually was when Steve pulled up to his building. Taking a deep breath as you took in the four-story condominium, you wondered if what you were doing was the right thing? Would it have drastic consequences someday? Would you get caught and then Steve would have to pay for your stupid decision in order to not drown yourself in debt?

Your future-husband sidled up to you, lugging your suitcase along. He peered up at structure with his brow furrowed. “Something wrong?”

Shaking your head, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Are you really sure about this?”

“What?” When you looked at him, Steve looked perplexed at your inquiry.

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Coincidence (Jimin x Reader)


Admin:
Mimi

Prompt/Ask: Hi could you do a jimin fanfic or something?? Where she has a one night stands with jimin and has feelings for him and in the morning she realise he is her new teacher. Xxxxx

Fandom: BTS

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: language, sex, drinking

Word Count: 4275 (woops)

Authors Note: Some smut for Jimin (my first bias before Jungkook snatched me lmao). I hope you enjoy it and that it was as good as you asked for! I got a bit carried away lol, but I hope you like it nonetheless. Let me know if there are errors, feedback is appreciated, and happy reading! ^^

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Knuckles : Boxer!Ashton (Part 2)

sorry it took so long! special thank u to Ashley (@thesaltyspice) for helping me come up with ideas for this a million years ago xx

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

[Following anyone/everyone who leaves some form of thoughtful feedback x]

- Knuckles Playlist


“Look at that one.”

“That one over there?”

“Yeah,” you confirm with a pout. “I want it.”

Ashton chuckles and looks to you at his side. “That’s the fourth dog you’ve said you wanted since we got here.”

It’s true, but you can’t help it. You always get dog-envy at the farmers’ market, exposed to too many cute pups at once for your little heart to handle.

“We should get one,” you say passively, adoring a large german shepherd trotting by with its owner. “Y'know, if we ever live together.”

Ashton smirks, turning his head. “I love how you’re not even worried about scaring me with plans for the future.”

Your cheeks redden, having not noticed the implications when you said it. It’s only been three months since the fight that started it all, since you and Ashton agreed to give your relationship a title, and you suppose you should be more careful about vocalizing your whimsical thoughts. Your guard just naturally falls around him, the pressure to play safe wiped away by his equal and obvious feelings toward you. Talk of commitment doesn’t affect him the way it does most people. If Ashton was going to run, he would’ve done so by now.

You glance down at his fingers between yours, smiling because you don’t think he’s let go of your hand all day. With his hectic training schedule for another upcoming fight and your demanding attendance at university four days a week, the two of you have recently been missing each other more than actually seeing each other, and it appears Ashton wants to make up for lost time in the form of suffocating your palm–not that you mind. For someone whose fists can be classified as lethal weapons, he has quite a gentle grip when it comes to you.

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The M/M Shipping Thing: Misogyny, the Male Gaze, and Feminist and Queer Representation

Follow up post to this one, here. Read this to see my thoughts on the importance of allowing women to see men through a lens where male sexuality is something to be celebrated, not feared. Seems like a lot of people can relate to this, and I just love talking about it so have some more of my thoughts.

First of all, it’s a numbers game…

Going off of this point by @colt-kun which I’ve copied and pasted here. This gives a great overview of a purely statistical analysis of why m/m ships are more common.  

“There’s also the sheer numbers to take into account.

Take the first Avengers movie as an example (because frankly its one of the few recent blockbusters with two female speaking roles). Two females, Black Widow and Maria. Then eight males, Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, Hawkeye, Hulk, Loki, Fury, Coulson.

Not counting polyships/selfships for ease of math, and using the characters cisgender identities bc that is what they are largely seen as (no disrespect meant to any trans/nb interpretations)

Possible f/m ships: 16 (35.5%)
Possible f/f ships: 1 (2.2%)
Possible m/m ships: 28 (62.2%)

That’s not even accounting for screentime, character chemistry, interaction times, etc. thats just the NUMBERS.

When there’s a large disparity in character gender then yeah, you’re going to see a heavy inclination to m/m ships because that’s really ALL THATS POSSIBLE. The fans have a natural desire for more story and romances, they want to world build and AU. We’ve done that since stories were first told.

So of COURSE you’re going to see a lot of women - of all sexual orientations - leaning towards m/m pairings because when there’s only potatoes at the buffet… you eat the potatoes. Think of all the shows an movies with only one female character in a cast of men. Is it really difficult to see WHY there’s a lot of m/m ships there?”

Mainstream media is male-centered and male-dominated.

Going beyond just the numbers the fact is that in the majority of popular films and TV shows many of the female characters aren’t well-rounded or on screen as much as most of the men. There is a tendency for women to be the secondary characters or maybe to have one main female character. This makes it hard to really relate to and invest in a lot of the female characters out there. Not that people don’t, but it’s not going to attract a huge following.

Take Supernatural (low hanging fruit I know) where even if there are a large number of women that appear throughout the series, there aren’t many that stick around(and let’s not even go there with all of the deaths and how sexist that is right now ha)or interact with each other in a way that would lead to a lot of shipping. Even in my lovely Hannibal fandom, the Marlana ship which people love and people write for just isn’t going to have as much of a following just based on the fact that they aren’t the main characters. And Marlana is a good example of a w/w ship where they aren’t objectified, don’t die, and still it’s a secondary focus. There obviously are some exceptions, but they are few and far between.

Originally posted by astudyinwinchester



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klance stuff part two

• Lance and Keith are the type of couple that dont even notice they gravitate towards each other anytime & anywhere until Pidge calls them out on it like they’re fucking magnets.

• When Keith first got a fever, his temperature got really high he started being delirious, crying and thinking Lance was his mom calling out not to leave him alone.

• Can’t really tell you how Lance reacted to that. (wreck)

• During seating arrangements when it gets to crowded Keith just stands and sit on Lance’s lap while Lance guides him and automatically wraps his arms around Keith’s waist like its the most natural thing to do.

• Keith is very lowkey scared of horror movies so after looking nonchalant during the whole movie and goes to bed, he hides under the covers and buries himself between the wall and Lance and tries to tighten his boyfriends hold around him.

• He also threatens Lance of telling Pidge to experiment with his beauty products if he ever teases him about it.

• Lance is very thankful for Keith’s fair skin because he can always easily make him blush as red as a tomato (and also easily make a hickey very visible).

• During a mission when Lance needs to keep sniping, he doesnt even need to turn around and worry when there are enemies approching cos Keith is with him. That’s it.

• There’s nothing really surprising about them anymore. Pidge walked in on them once in Lance’s room tying Keith’s hair in multiple little pigtails while Keith was polishing his knives (yes knives not knife)

• Lance sometimes tries to go to Red maybe to find a connection similar to how Keith felt Blue’s energy in the desert. Red is a lil shit and plays around with Lance, trapping him in her particle barrier or suddenly lifting him high up by the back of his jacket hanging from her mouth.

• Keith would have definitely laugh at this if it weren’t for Red doing the same thing to him too. Same connection definitely.

• One time during a supply run, the gang separate and a chameleon alien theif forms into Lance just to be sneaky and his biggest mistake was approaching Keith first because he saw them close together.

• (a punch and a knocked out alien later)
“How’d you know it wasnt Lance??”
“It didn’t call me any pet names”

part 1part 3 part 4

Before I start this post, I want to say that everyone’s orientation is different! I’ve seen that a lot of schools have orientation over the summer, weeks before classes start. My school, I guess because only a few of us are from here and the majority of students are out of the state/country, we had orientation week starting on move-in day, the same week classes started. That’s why I will be discussing move-in day and the first day of classes here, though yours might be a completely separate experience. Let’s get started!

Move-In Day

  • Dress for a lot physical activity. You are going to be lugging your shit up and down stairs (elevators get full, if you even have them) all day, walking back and forth to your car, and once you get everything in your room, you will have to unpack and loft your bed, etc. You are going to be sweaty and exhausted by the time it’s all over. I wanted to still be cute so I wore spandex, my Vandy t-shirt and hat, and a full face of makeup lol. I know you might want to make a good first impression on your roommate and new classmates, but everyone will be wearing what looks like workout clothes. Don’t wear jeans or a dress or something. It’s August, it’s hot, you’ll regret it.
  • Be patient. Oh my god, I swear 90% of the memories I have of move-in day are just me waiting. Waiting in the car for the line to move towards the dorms, waiting in line to get my key, waiting for a dolly to free up, waiting to get inside the elevator, waiting for the stairs to clear up. It’s so boring, especially when you’re so excited to just finally be there. Be prepared to wait and try to appreciate your last few moments before college ruins your life (just kidding!).
  • Brace yourself for something to go wrong. No matter how organized your school is, chaos is inevitable on move-in day. You will have planned according to a schedule they gave you, and something will not go the way it’s supposed to. Thousands of freshmen who don’t know anything all in the same place at once is a recipe for disaster. Just don’t stress about it cause it will all work itself out. Honestly, that’s a philosophy to live by for your entire college career, not just move-in day.

Orientation Week

  • I can’t even explain how busy you’ll be. Starting from the first floor meeting we had on move-in day, the entire next seven days were packed full of activities and meetings and ceremonies. I still have my freshmen guide with the itenerary of all the things we had to do, and it was pages long. Everyday we would wake up at like 8, and have things to do until after midnight. I was so busy, I didn’t even have time to be on my phone, and I love social media. You will be so tired, and it will get old really quick. I don’t really have any advice, but through the exhaustion, remember to try and appreciate this chaotic time and stay in the moment. You’ll never again experience the freshness and excitement of your first week at college, soon you’ll get used to it all and you’ll wish for that feeling back.
  • You don’t have to attend everything. Like I said, you will be exhausted. You won’t want to wake up at 6 am for the Freshman Sunrise (i did and i regretted it), or to take the class picture where you have to stand still for an hour and you can’t even see yourself in the photo (again, i should’ve slept in). You might feel obligated to go to everything, but if you just need a break, then take that break. Orientation is overwhelming. 
  • Don’t freak out if you miss a required meeting. We had lots of events that were marked required. It’s inevitable that people miss these, due to sleeping through an alarm, or reading the time wrong, or getting lost on campus since you don’t know where everything is. Lots of the time, they only mark it as required to scare people into going when there’s no real consequence if you don’t. Even if there is a consequence, you won’t get into any major trouble the first week. You’re freshmen, they understand. Do try to make it to them, though. The best way to do this is to find friends or other people who are in that same section and go together.
  • Don’t stress about making friends. It is quite literally impossible to not make friends during orientation week. You will have to attend so many things with the same group(s) of people that you’ll bond over that alone. You don’t even have to try, so if you’re not a social person, don’t worry. As long as you don’t stay silent in a corner, you’ll have plenty of people to hang out with. 
  • Don’t stress about keeping the friends you do make. You will meet a million people, and have a million new numbers in your phone. You will have a hard time matching everyone’s names to their faces. People form connections really quickly, that’s just human nature, but this is especially heightened in university when everyone is away from home and no one knows anyone. Don’t feel like you have to stay attached to the same five people you became best friends with after two days for fear of not finding anyone else to be close to. Lots of people meet their real friends at the beginning of the year, but most people don’t. All of the pictures and videos I have from my entire first semester are with and of people I don’t even speak to anymore, people who, frankly, I can hardly stand to look at now. During orientation, you’ll gravitate towards anyone, but you’ll soon realize you don’t know them at all and they might turn out to be shitty people. I met all the friends I have now second semester through the LGBT group on campus, and they’re great. Point is, don’t feel too attached to your orientation buddies. You will find your people, even if it takes a while.

First Day of Classes

  • Find the buildings where your classes are held beforehand. Yes, I mean physically walk to them and find the exact classroom, don’t just use Google Maps to make sure you can get there in ten minutes. I knew the names of all the buildings and their general location, but then I found out some buildings are attached to each other and numbered in a strange order, then you finally find the right building but can’t find the right floor and hallway. I was late to all of my classes the first day. University buildings are so confusing. You will have trouble, I promise you. Do yourself a favor and figure out how to get to all of your classrooms sometime earlier in the week. You will feel great about not being that embarrassing freshmen asking the upperclassmen for directions (who are happy to help, but will laugh at you just a little bit).
  • Introduce yourself to the professor before or after class. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want, but it can’t hurt. Just shake their hand and make sure they can match your face to the name. Doing this the first day makes it easier to establish contact with them later in the semester, which you’ll probably have to do. Don’t worry, you’ll see lots of the other students in your lecture doing this, too. Just hop on in line.
  • Double check to make sure you don’t have any assignments due/papers to bring. This is unlikely cause you don’t have summer work in college (at least to my knowledge) and it’s never happened to me, but I had friends whose professors had assigned them work for the the first day of class. This is really ugly, I know, but just check your email and Blackboard to make sure there’s nothing to do. 

This is longer than I anticipated, so thanks if you read it all! I hope this helps someone out. Orientation is a chaotic mess but so so fun, cause it’s the only time you’ll ever be able to experience the fun of college without the stress of the work. Up next is advice on living with a roommate (and boy, do I have advice for that). Previous posts:

Application Process

Choosing/Changing Majors

Sterek A-Z Challenge: one word prompts

Week 15: O - Oops

The bell over the coffee shop door announced Derek’s arrival with a merry jingle a little after 11 in the evening. Derek shuffled the strap of his messenger bag higher on his shoulder and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his leather jacket.

The shop was almost empty at that hour. Only a few students writing their first papers of the new term and a couple of regular night owls were scattered through the shop. His usual seat in the far corner, where he could sit with his back against the wall and keep watch, was open.

Derek dropped his bag on the small table and shrugged his jacket off to drape over the back of his claimed seat. The young woman at the register was new, which could be potentially problematic. Derek didn’t recognize her, but she smiled cheerfully when he approached.

“What can I get you?” she chirped. Her heartbeat fluttered nervously as her scent sweetened with clear want. Definitely problematic.

Derek paused a moment. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. He wasn’t sure his drink had a name.

“Oh, well, we have different speciality coffees and teas,” the barista said and gestured to the menu board behind her. “If you want something-”

“I got this!” Stiles slid out of the back room, arms flailing to keep his balance. “Yo,” he said, greeting Derek with a lazy salute, and Derek snorted. His roommate was ridiculous. “Super awesome Stilinski special as dark as your soul, coming right up.”

“Right,” Derek said, gravitating down the bar towards Stiles. “No cinnamon this time.”

“Sure thing.” Stiles flipped a large paper cup into the air and fumbled to catch it, which made Derek chuckle.

When Stiles called him earlier that year, it had been a bit of a shock. Derek had been living in a cabin upstate that he and Laura had bought years ago. He had finally achieved vengeance for his family when he ripped out Kate’s throat and burned her body deep in the woods, but Beacon Hills wasn’t home anymore, so he hadn’t gone back. Now he wished he had.

At first, Derek hadn’t been sure the small voice on the other end of the phone had actually been Stiles, and not something trying to lure him back to Beacon Hills because the Stiles on the other end of the line had been quiet, almost hesitant, and unsure. As if Stiles hadn’t believed he deserved Derek’s help. Definitely not at all the hyperactive, chatterbox he had left behind. They both carried heavy scars, but that was fine.

Before Derek knew it, he had a new roommate and was driving across the country to pick Stiles up the day he got his diploma. Stiles hadn’t been home since, and the Sheriff was worried.

The barista asked Derek what the drink was so she could ring it up as Stiles ducked out of sight to retrieve milk out of the fridge below the counter.

“I don’t know,” Derek said again. “Something chocolate?”

Derek always had the same drink whenever he came in, but he didn’t know what it was because Stiles had never told him. It probably didn’t have a name. The first time he picked Stiles up, Stiles had whipped something up and shoved it into his hands.

Stiles’ head popped back up over the espresso bar. The steamer hissed to life, and Stiles laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Sam. It’s on me,” he said and winked at Derek.

Derek hadn’t paid for a drink yet.

The drink Stiles handed off to Derek smelled overly sweet and chocolatey, and was piled so high with whipped cream drizzled with chocolate and caramel that the topping threatened to spill over. He wasn’t sure how Stiles knew about his sweet tooth, but he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Here ya go, big guy,” Stiles said and grinned. “Extra sweet and fluffy. Just like you.”

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10 Ways To Say I Love You

Title: 10 Ways To Say I Love You

Summary: Dean says “I love you” every single day. He just doesn’t do it with words.

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader

Word count: 1248

Warnings: light smut(very light, trust me guys). Fluff, fluff, fluff and fluff.

Author’s Notes: So I was supposed to be working on the second part to “The Promise” (and I’m almost done, guys, I swear) but after a conversation I had with @ravengirl94 last night, this baby happened. It’s entirely written from Dean’s POV (I guess I like doing that *winks*) and it’s in present tense. Frankly, I’ve never done anything like this before but I enjoyed working on it. I hope you all like it. <3 

Originally posted by supernaturalfreewill


Dean doesn’t like bombasts and balderdashes. He’s never been particularly good with words and has, at times, trouble expressing his feelings. He has, however, a heart that loves overwhelmingly and cares deeply, a heart that bleeds and burns but only grows and flourishes with love for the ones he considers family.

Dean doesn’t usually say I love you. Not because he doesn’t feel it or because he’s embarrassed by the sentiment but because he’s afraid. He’s terrified that the moment he speaks these words the ones he cares about will be taken away from him.

But he does love. He loves Sam. He loves Cas. He loves Y/N, the girl with the bright smile and the Y/E/C eyes that came bursting into his life and made a wonderful mess out of it. And he tells her that much. In fact, he whispers those three words to her every day with his actions.

Dean says I love you with the way he looks at her, soft and intense, green orbs always searching for her in the almost empty rooms of the bunker or in a room full of people. He says it with the way his eyes twinkle when she smiles at him, with the way he always gravitates towards her and everything else just fades away because she’s the only thing that really matters.

Keep reading

Pretty

You and him had been friends for years.

Your mothers were best friends throughout high school and college, so naturally you were around each other from birth. You’d seen each other through the good and bad. You were inseparable. He was your best friend, your first kiss (at 12 years old, you both just wanted to see what it felt like and decided to use each other), your other half. Him and you. You and him. That’s the way it always was.

You were often teased by other friends about your closeness with him. Constantly affectionate with one another; kissing cheeks or hugging waists. You never questioned it. He was familiar, comfortable. That’s the way it always was.

He was always magnetic, it came naturally to him. People just gravitated towards him. He was consistently pulled to you instead. You watched as your crowd of friends cheered him on while he chugged a beer. He glanced around and met your eyes, seeing you sitting at the bar with a full drink. Excusing himself from the crowd, he made his way over to you.

“Oi, love! Wut’re ya doing? Supposed to be getting drunk with me, yeh?”

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NurseyWeek Prompt #3 - Challenge.


“Oh, it is fucking on, bros,” Lardo shouts over the incessant thumping of the bass. “You two are going to get obliterated.” She points an emphatic finger at Ransom and Holster, who stand shoulder to shoulder on the other side of the beer pong table. Holster cups his hand over his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully, and side-eyes Ransom.

“She shouldn’t be able to say words like ‘obliterated’ three cups of tub juice in,” he says. Ransom is just beginning to nod in agreement when he’s beaned smack in the middle of his forehead with a ping pong ball. Holster gets hit in the same spot half a second later, sending both of them reeling back, spluttering.

“You know, I figured four years was enough time for the two of you to learn not to underestimate my abilities,” Lardo says, tossing another ping pong ball up in the air. She cocks an eyebrow and catches the ball, meeting their gazes. “My mistake. Clearly, you need another lesson.”

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H2O

Summary: You challenge Bucky not to laugh on your day off.

Pairing:  Bucky x Reader

Warnings: fluff, humour of the pun kind

Word Count: 1,491

A/N: this is my first fic ever posted here! I’d love any feedback, comments, questions, etc.  I’ve done this water challenge with friends, and let me tell you, it gets pretty crazy. 

I hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by sebuttianstans

“Wait…explain it to me again.”

“It’s called the Water Challenge, you have to fill up your cheeks with water.“

“And then see how fast I can drink this whole thing?” Bucky held up the water pitcher. “Newsflash, doll, my bladder can only hold so much.”

You giggled.  “No, you hold water in your mouth—I do it too, don’t give me that face—then we’ll try to make each other laugh. Whoever laughs and lets all the water fall out loses.”

“Where’d you find this?”

“Buzzfeed.”

“Of course it was Buzzfeed,” Bucky sighed, shaking his head slightly.

You were sitting crossed legged in the living room, movie cases strewn haphazardly on the coffee table and plates everywhere.  The team had left for a quick two-day mission, leaving you and Bucky alone in the tower. It was something you relished in, loving how you had Bucky all to yourself.  The two of you were best friends but recently your thoughts around him had taken a…different route. A more-than-friends route.

Taking the pitcher you filled both of the glasses with water and handed one to your opponent.

“But isn’t this better than another day filling out the paperwork Bruce left us?”

“True.  And I get to spend it with you,” he said, poking your nose with his index finger. You could feel yourself blush, so you busied yourself with smoothing down the carpet.  

Your lack of attention was a mistake. You yelped as he flicked his half-full glass at you. Mouth in a gaping ‘O’, you said, “I see how its going to be! What happened to Skeptical Bucky?”

“He’s still here, but it’s still a challenge, and I plan to win.  Got a problem with that doll?” An evil grin spread across his handsome face.

“Nope. Cause I’m going to win.”

“Mhm, keep telling yourself that. Let’s talk stakes.”  

“Okay.”   You watched him shift to refill his glass, your eyes gravitating towards his lips.  Then your mouth opened, and you surprised even yourself with what came out.  “If I win, you have to kiss me.”

The pitcher stopped as if time was frozen.  “And if I win?”

“Then I have to kiss you.”

Courage. Can’t say it’s not spontaneous.

Water dripped agonizingly slow into the cup, yet when your eyes met Bucky’s again, his were a shade darker blue than before.  “Sounds reasonable. Ready?”

You sat up straighter and both of you lifted your glass in a ‘cheers’ motion before downing it. The water sloshed around in your mouth; thank the stars you weren’t thirsty or this challenge would have been torture. You started off simple, wide then narrowed eyes, crossing them to look at your nose. Small smile. No water.  

Bucky’s turn.  He waggled his heavyset eyebrows to imitate the wave.  You arranged your face to show that he had to try harder.  As much as you wanted that kiss, you weren’t going to lose on purpose.

Back and forth the two of you devised creative ways to make each other laugh, but to no avail.  Bucky was a surprisingly good competitor; it wasn’t your first time playing the challenge, and truthfully you had been expecting to win right off the bat.  Time to up the intensity.  

You flicked his cheek, resulting in a hollow sound that nearly made you lose it when paired with his shocked expression.  Knowing Bucky as well as you did, you could imagine what he was thinking.

‘Did you just flick me?’

‘Whatcha going to do about it, old man?’

A jet of water was sprayed at your face in answer.

‘Alright.  No more Mrs. Nice Y/N’

You reached out and started to tickle his sides, an action that made him recoil back. Or so you thought. Movement happened, and suddenly Bucky sat smugly on your legs, pinning you to the ground.  Never breaking eye contact, he reached teasingly for the water pitcher and dangled it right above your face. His smirk was simultaneously as hot, and as terrifying as hell.

‘Nonononono’ you tried to wiggle out from under Bucky—-splash. You were utterly and completely soaked, as was the couch and the carpet beneath you. You sighed in resignation, pretending to be annoyed by Bucky’s muffled laughter. He was close to breaking…and off-balance, pumping his fists in premature victory, if you had anything to do with it.

You used your training to flip him over so you were straddling him.  Grabbing a pillow off the couch, you promptly dropped it from your height onto his head.  To add insult to injury you spit all your water on your best friends’ face after he pushed the pillow off.  

“Who’s wet now!”  

This time Bucky couldn’t hold it in and he gasped out his water; you could feel his laughs resonating through your legs, and you realized what a compromising position you were in.

Apparently, Bucky was thinking the same thing.  His hands moved to rest on your waist, one warm, one cool; your eyes watched as his sinful tongue flicked out to make his lips more inviting. The mood of the room had quickly switched from playful to something deeper, more intimate.

“Well, doll. I think I won.”

“Yeah…guess you did.”

You both knew what that meant. The courage from earlier crept back. Your fingers weaved their way into his soft locks, and you finally leaned down so those captivating blue eyes were closer closer, parted lips closerclosercloser

“Good evening Mr. Stark, welcome home.”  

A ding of the elevator and F.R.I.D.A.Y.  startled you enough to tumble off Bucky. You scampered onto the couch before the team could come down the hall.

Why oh why did they have to come back now? You stole a nervous glance at the boy you were about to kiss not ten seconds ago.

Slowly, Bucky pushed himself up to lean against the opposite couch, cleared his throat, and used both hands to push back his hair.  That tongue swiped at his lips again and it was all you could do to stay on the couch.  You swore you could see an expression of frustration cross his features when your teammates emerged from around the corner, but you were probably just hoping.  Really hoping.  

“Hey you two,” Steve greeted.  The chorus of ‘hellos’ followed from the rest of the team. Sam and Tony whizzed over the fridge, Nat took a seat at the island, and the others drifted off to their respective rooms.

“Hey,” you said.  Your fingers fiddled with the bottom of your pants and you fought to keep your attention on Steve’s report of their success.

“It was an open-and-shut case, we just went in and the scientists confessed immediately,” he said, “it’s actually nice to have people cooperate with us for once.”

“Less discus,” Tony mumbled through his sandwich.

Clint returned to sit on the couch.  You and Bucky exchanged an alarmed look, all awkward gone–he ducked his head away, shoulders shaking. You had to cover your mouth with your hand for fear of bursting out laughing.

“Why is the floor so wet?!”

“Blame Buzzfeed!” you yelled, grabbing Bucky’s hand and escaping to your room.  

“That game was absolutely ridiculous, Y/N,” he chuckled, shutting the door behind him. “I’m soaked.”

“Gives a new meaning to ‘within spitting distance’ huh?”

He took a few steps closer. “You know what? I think I’d prefer to be within kissing distance.”

Your heart skipped a beat; you didn’t hope after all. “Well, currently, we have no other options.”

Bucky titled his head. “Was that a water pun?”

“…maybe.”

“You’ve gotta stop doing that,” he laughed slightly and looked up at the ceiling.

“Doing what?” you asked with a taunting grin. Bucky reached out and tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek.

“Saying things that make me want to kiss you.”

Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. Feel it too, since he leaned in so his forehead rested against yours.

“What if I told you not only was that one pun, it was two.”

“Then I’d have to do this.”

Bucky lowered his lips to meet yours, the moment you had dreamed of for so long.  The kiss was soft and gentle and chaste at first. Then Bucky’s arms encircled your waist, and you reached up and tangled yours around his neck, adding more pressure to your lips, deepening the kiss.  Your parted lips opened further, allowing your tongues to earnestly say hello. Finally you pulled apart, arms still around one another.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long…”

“Me too,” you breathed.

“I think I like winning.” The corner of his mouth twitched up in a lopsided grin.  

“Don’t get used to it, I demand a rematch.” You bumped his nose with yours. “But later,” you said, pulling him in for another kiss, “we haven’t completed the stakes yet.”

_______________________________________________________________

tagging some of my favourites and inspiration because I’m new and I really admire you :) 

a big thank you to @fxckmebuck for being amazing with writing, and all the tips and encouragement! 

@buckyywiththegoodhair @avengerofyourheart @bovaria @wndas-romanoff @thejamesoldier @caplanbuckybarnes @softcorehippos @papi-chulo-bucky@buckybarnesismypreciousplum @mangosoldier 

(let me know if you want to be untagged)

anonymous asked:

What If one of the fakes had a high school reunion or something like that and just took the crew and it somehow ended in a shoot out with the cops.

Let’s just be clear, it’s not a pride thing. Geoff has never cared what people said about him, not outside a professional sense anyway; he knew exactly who he was, what he was capable of, even before he’d taken an entire city to its knees. So it’s not that he felt the need to prove himself, it’s just that there’s something particular about high school trauma, isn’t there? Something that lingers, even when it shouldn’t, something that emerges from even the most upstanding adults when thrown back together for a reunion, the bullies and the bullied, all desperate to show what they’ve become.

Geoff’s last high school was nothing like he’d ever been to before, a snobby upper-crust hellhole he was only in because his Ma’s third husband pulled some strings, and the other students were quick to point out just how much he didn’t belong. Between the tattoos and the smoking, the lazy looks and slow sneering drawl, it was always all too easy to label Geoff a loser, a drop out, trailer park trash everyone knew would be washing their cars one day. Never mind that he scored higher than most of his cohort even when skipping more or less every class, never mind that he is possibly the most well-read crime-lord in the country, back then he had an image and teenagers are relentless. Not that Geoff was all that phased even at the time, only a year or so away from the day he picked up his first gun and never looked back, but it’s the principal of the thing.

So when an invite forwards through from an email so old he’d forgotten he’d even made it Geoff has to laugh. Then pause, consider, hatch an utterly ridiculous idea, and laugh some more. Because he might not care, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t enjoy ruining the night for all the pathetic stuck-up nobodies he went to school with; rubbing your success in everyone’s faces is what reunions are for, after all. The fact that it has a theme, that it is masquerade of all things, really just cements Geoff’s resolve to drag his crew halfway across the country into one of the strangest nights of their lives.

Everyone knows the option to bring a guest to these events is, in reality, the offer to bring a romantic partner, singular, but it isn’t technically stated. There are no rules barring Geoff from RSVP-ing for 7, so that’s exactly what he does. Sure he receives a few increasingly less polite emails suggesting he’d been mistaken but he doesn’t even bother opening them, doesn’t try to clarify that he is bringing his friends, his family, not his entire harem. Let them talk; they’d do it anyway. Plus, it’s not like the Fake’s aren’t all entirely too pleased with the suggestion, cackling hyenas who spend the next few weeks laying it on thick, batting their eyes and blowing Geoff kisses, picking out increasingly absurd meet-cute stories to tell his scandalised classmates. Between creating new identities and playing dress up in masks and suits they couldn’t be happier.

Masks or not they catch every eye in the room when they make their entrance and why wouldn’t they; Geoff and his unusual request must have been the talk of the rumour mill and identity hidden or not clearly this must be Geoff, it’s not like anyone else brought along 6 dates. As stage whispers hit a dull roar it’s obvious no one was prepared for what they were seeing, perhaps imagined instead stained tank tops and a string of strung-out baby mama’s, not expensively tailored suits and an attractively refined entourage. Paying the noise no heed Geoff swans into the room with Jack looking elegant on one arm, Gavin at his most Ken-doll glamorous tucked under the other, flanked on either side by Ryan, Michael, Jeremy and Ray, all dressed to impress.

Shock and jealousy aren’t good looks on anyone, let alone rich brats turned elitist yuppies, so Geoff’s classmates behave just as poorly as he’d anticipated, years and newfound maturity doing nothing to stop the tittering laughter, the sneers and judgmental looks, fake pleasantry and condescending questions. But then, his crew didn’t exactly play nice with them either.

Ray and Jeremy immediately beeline to the food table and bar, respectively, and each set themselves up and settle in for the night; loud, obnoxious and tactlessly talking about everyone around them. When asked about themselves or their relationship to Geoff they’re both frustratingly vague, Jeremy chattering away without saying much at all and Ray simply staring people down until they can’t bear the tension.

Michael and Ryan set off together to explore the room but quickly separate to accommodate their vastly different methods of surveillance. Ryan skulks into the background, ducking numerous attempts to catch his interest in favour of fading into unlit corners and empty nooks, frightening the life out of anyone trying to slip away for some private time. Michael, on the other hand, seems determined to be the life of the party, cheerfully making conversation only to laugh in the face of every so-called achievement, ruffling feathers and causing major offence wherever he goes.

Gavin slinks off like a man on a mission and doesn’t come back for over an hour, offering no explanation for the absence beyond a dangerously self-satisfied smirk. His work becomes obvious soon enough anyway, once the yelling starts; Geoff’s two main high-school tormentors, mentioned only in passing stories over the years, simultaneously having huge, public, relationship-ending blow ups with each of their significant others. What are the odds? Across the hall Gavin laughs, all tinkling glass and sparkling charm, smoothly working the room like Michael’s mirror opposite.

Jack stays at Geoff’s side all night, hackles raised into something abnormally cold and unimpressed any time someone comes up to speak to them, protective instincts in full force no matter how often Geoff claims to be unaffected. He fills her in on all the worst gossip about those who approach, and as the night progresses and general unease begins to spread Jack mellows, sinking back into something sweet and mocking, somehow even more unsettling playing docile arm-candy than she was rabid guard dog.

Throughout the night the Fake AH Crew remain a key topic of every casual conversation; they might have been regardless, even this far from Los Santos no one can get enough of their scandals, but with the huge heist pulled just last week there was no way to avoid it, everyone has their two cents, their praise and condemnation. It’s too funny, the whole crew killing themselves trying not to break character, to laugh or correct or manipulate the conversation but all their self-control is well rewarded in the end.

Half the room removed their masks less than an hour into the night; too difficult to eat and talk and drink in, too vain to keep their hard earned looks covered, so it’s not at all strange when the Fake’s start to follow suit. Jeremy and Ray start it, the newest member and the one caught on camera the least often, casually dropping their masks mid-conversation. They each get a confused squint or two, a double glance, a few individuals trying to place them, remember how they’d met before, why they were so familiar.

Next came Gavin and Michael, having goaded each other out onto the dance-floor they were playing as much as they were moving to the music, laughing and grappling and generally making a bit of a scene. They snatch off each other’s masks as they play and the looks double, because alone they’re each distinctive but together, together, people have seen those faces together, somewhere they’ve seen them and so often together..

Last is Jack and Geoff, more graceful than their counterparts and moving with far more purpose they reveal their faces in the centre of the room and, like a party trick, they instantly catch the whole room’s attention. Out of context, in ones and twos where they don’t belong, the members of the FAHC could be mistaken but no one in the country would fail to recognise Ramsey and Patillo, the kingpin and his right hand, rulers of the most well-known gang in the US. And here they stand, casually mingling at a high school reunion.

In the calm before the storm the crew gravitates back towards one another, can almost see the cogs turning around them, the lightbulbs flickering on in a slow ripple spreading out across the room, disbelief and the first hint of horror swirling together as people start unconsciously reaching for their phones. As Ryan slips back out and wanders over, the last still masked, always masked, the chatter seems to crescendo then crash into something still and almost silent as a room full of entitled trust-fund babies recognise their own terror.

Finally uncovered and flanked by his family Geoff’s grin creeps across his face, slow and violent and more confirmation than anyone needed as he lets the oppressive tension sit for a long moment, arms spreading out to his sides like a magician revealing a clever trick before he breaks the silence; Surprise motherfuckers.

Guns are pulled from jackets and from there it’s all running and screaming, no honour or courage, just a stampede for the exits to the sound of cackling laughter and the occasional aimless pot-shot. The Fake’s aren’t looking for lives, not worth the hassle really, and this job certainly has no monetary reward beyond the wallets Geoff’s filthy little thieves have no doubt absconded with, but the fear in the air is delightful and even the sound of incoming sirens can’t ruin the mood. If anything it only hypes them up further, all savage grins and ramping excitement as they make for doors, reloading their weapons and pumping themselves up for a whole new police force to terrorise, Geoff’s magnificent little miscreants.

On the way out they pass a wall of yearbook photos, blown up large and captioned with names and all the old superlative awards. Ryan stumbles to a halt and snorts, snatching one off the wall and tucking it into his jacket to take back to the penthouse, though not before flashing the Lads a glance at that all too recognisable face, sending them into peals of screeching laughter as they pour out into the night. Geoffrey Fink; Least likely to succeed. 

wrapped around your finger. (m)

↳ graduate school au

pairing: kim namjoon | reader
genre: fluff, smut
warnings: sub!namjoon, begging, a cock ring, and light bondage.
word count: 7,180
description:
in which a night of grading papers about robots becomes a night where you get your payback against rival grad student, kim namjoon. 
author’s note: this is a very, very, very late christmas gift to @jungnoir but better late than never amirite? anyway, enjoy this piece! also, this is probably the dirtiest thing i’ve ever written so… just let me live…. rip.

cr.


For many graduate-level students, there is only one day that truly means the world to them. It’s a day where they’ll be chosen to either teach a classroom or assist said person. In your university, pairs are created for these courses. Many of which are targeted toward impressionable first years but anyone’s welcome to partake in the experimental class. The department of any major -in this case, Philosophy- hears back on your progress at the end of the term, then from there even biggers decisions are made. The research component of any subject is easy, but being able to convey it to a large crowd is what the department heads look for. In all essence, it will make or break you as an aspiring teacher.

Your anticipation only proliferates as the red marks shrink the previous days to the forthcoming circle for the upcoming Winter quarter. And today is finally that day.

With a buzzing all-time high, you find yourself among the select eight in your graduate program. Many of whom are just as excited as you are, even Namjoon but you opt to ignore the silver-haired man just to keep your own buzz going. With some luck you won’t have to deal with him anymore. Hell, maybe you’ll even have Hani as a partner. Or Minhyuk.

Soon enough, Professor Lim enters, and everyone immediately sits straight and leans forward.

The salt and pepper-haired man laughs, “It’s good to see everyone looking so alive today.” Meeting each and every one of your wide eyes as he takes a seat at the head of the crudely formed circle of chairs by Namjoon, he asks, “Is everyone ready to hear the pairs for this year’s Introductory Philosophy class?”

There are nods and murmurs in response. Of course, they’re ready. They’ve been preparing for this since the start of the program.

His eyes twinkle beneath the mediocre fluorescent lighting before he gives a nod, “Alright, well, let’s get down to it then, yeah?” He receives a chorus of affirmations, earning another hearty laugh of his, “The following pairs shall be Namjoon and Y/N…” But the moment he says yours and Namjoon’s name, you can’t seem to register anything else.

Fuck… Out of everyone in the room, it had to be him.

Keep reading

Clues To My Heart - Jughead x Reader

Here you go! It’s slightly longer than usual!
I tried my best to make it as sweet as possible without it being overly sappy for someone like Jughead :)
Enjoy!


“Jughead,” you seeth, eyes ablaze, “Get the hell out of my sight,”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head in what looks like to be disappointment, his eyes filled with hurt and anger, but turns around and leaves anyway. You deflate a little, the argument that just happened sapping the energy out of you and you collapse onto a nearby park bench. It started innocently enough but it somehow just grew out of proportion, and into one of the worse fights you’ve ever had before. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and you stubbornly wipe them away, unwilling to let your emotions get the best of you as the words he said to you echoes in your head.

Keep reading

With You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, Angst

Word Count: 4K+

A/N: Holy shit, guys. This is the longest one shot I’ve ever written and I’m not sure what happened, but it just took on a mind of its own. Like, who am I? Anyways, enjoy!


You were never one to hold back, especially when you wanted something. In this case, it was someone. In fact, the more the object or person of interest resisted, the more determined you were; you always enjoyed a challenge. From the moment that Bucky Barnes first stepped foot out of the elevator doors, you were drawn to him.

Keep reading

The Preacher’s Daughter

Author: @stilinski-jpeg

A/N: This collab is so funny because I literally had this idea and Camile was like “I’m already writing one.” Nia and Camile strike again. This is going to be a series, so buckle up babes it’s going to be a hell of a ride. I have to thank @minhosmeanhoe (Camile) for pushing me to do this when my motivation was lacking and always being there for me when I get stuck. She also proofread and edited this because she’s literally the best. Okay, without further ado.

Paring: ReaderxMitchfuckingRapp

Warnings: Is it a stilinski-jpeg/minhosmeanhoe fic without smut?? Otherwise, no warnings.

Word Count: 4682

Camile’s version: here

Song: Good Kid by Former Vandal

Originally posted by dylanobrienbr

Keep reading

Jealousy (Scott McCall smut)

Summary: After finding you with Liam, Scott decides to teach you some respect (I realise that makes it sound like cheating, but it’s not dw !)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: THIS IS SMUT ! +deals with the alpha/beta/omega dynamic to a certain extent

A/N: AaaAAAaahhh my first Teen Wolf smut! I really hope people enjoy reading this :) You’ve got to wait a while for the smut, but it’s worth it - believe me ;)

If you’re new to my blog, hey! I hope you stick around for a while <3

Originally posted by allpeopleareincredible

“Get out.”

The harsh words of your alpha seem to ripple through the room, anger pulsating in every direction. You glance up, only to see his red eyes flickering dangerously between you and the naked boy to your left. 

“What?” Liam’s voice cracks, wavering with a slight fear. You tilt your head to the side to see him frozen, hands clenched around the bedsheets.

“I said,” Scott moves further into the bedroom, his deliberate footing sending a thrill of anticipation down your spine, “Get. Out.” You stay still, knowing that the words are only aimed at the boy you’ve spent the last hour fooling around with. 

Keep reading

No Inhibitions

I wanna follow where she goes, I think 
about her and she knows it.
Oh, I’ve been shaking, I love it when you go
crazy. You take all my inhibitions. 
You take me places that tear up
my reputation, manipulate my decisions.
Cause if we lost our minds and we took it way too far. 
I know we’d be alright. If you were by my side and we 
stumbled in the dark, I know we’d be alright.


Tom had been lucky enough to meet [Y/N]. It had been at a party in downtown San Francisco, everyone under the sun was invited to that party. It was wild. People were stumbling through rooms, slurring their words, crawling down the stairs, slinging liquor around, and the music had been so loud, Tom could feel it in his bones every time his heart would beat. 

After some drinks were in his system, he came across the pretty singer lounging on the balcony. With all the liquid courage he had consumed, it was easy to talk to her and when they decided to meet up days later on sober accords, it was even better. 

She had shown him around her home. Took him to places he would have never seen or even bothered to go to. [Y/N] was a different kind of person with a different kind of life, and he enjoyed every bit of it. She was a singer, someone who took great pride in music and made it her life. [Y/N] knew all the best places to go for someone who had never experienced that kind of thing. He had a fun ride that week he stayed in San Francisco. Part of him, never wanting to leave and the other part wanting to take her with him back to London. Take her to his home, show her his kind of life. But with her about to embark on her first ever world tour, he knew he couldn’t. 

It had been a months since the two of them had last seen each other but it had only been a few days since they last spoke. They kept in touch, him finding parts of him he never knew about when he was talking with her. [Y/N] was a wild child and he loved it. She had no limitations and saw the world as her oyster. Tom really liked that about her, her ability to just do what she wanted because no one could tell her otherwise. She wasn’t afraid of anything.

[Y/N] didn’t care what the media thought of her or what kind of consequences her actions would have. She lived in the now. It was exhilarating to be involved with someone like that. All she did care about were her fans and what they thought of her. [Y/N] never wanted to disappoint her fans but just like Tom, they loved that she was carefree and erratic. 


“Very convenient that you live so close to home.” [Y/N] commented as Tom led her into his apartment. She looked around, chuckling to herself. It was obvious that a guy lived here. Not that it was messy but the lack of decor and reason gave it away. 

Tom gave a nervous chuckle, “Yeah, mum found it and I thought why the hell not.” He walked towards his kitchen, “Want a beer? I was actually going to move to Los Angeles.”  

[Y/N] gave him a dazzling smile, the kind of smile that would cause him to lose his train of thought if he were to be in the middle of a conversation with someone else. “You know I do.” Following him, she thanked him when he gave her a bottle. “And that would have been easier than a ten hour flight. We could meet in less than two hours by plane.” 

Sipping on his own, he smiled. “I know but London’s my home, you know? Speaking of which how are you liking London?” Tom was ecstatic that she was finally done with her ninety-four day tour. And he was especially happy that she decided to fly out to London to give it a chance. He had talked it up so much and [Y/N] had only spent a few days in it during her tour that she wanted to experience it more. So, she enlisted in the best tour guide there was. 

Shrugging, she took a sip. “It’s alright.” Flashing him another one of those smiles, she followed him to his couch. Taking a seat on the opposite end, she pivoted towards him. “But, I can see the appeal.” 

Tom pretended to feel offended, “London is the best, way better than your San Francisco.” 

“We will see about that.” She laughed.

Tom was about to respond but received multiple text messages. Reaching into his pocket, he juggled his beer and his phone. Opening the texts, he internally groaned at them. Just before they had gone to his apartment, he had stopped by his parents home to introduce [Y/N], really to Tessa, but also his family. They ended up staying for dinner even though he had tried to stress that he was going to take [Y/N] to his favorite pub. 

[Y/N] quirked a brow, “You okay? Look like you’re reading something bad.” 

Tom gave a nervous chuckle, “What? Oh, no. Nothing bad.” Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he shook his head, “It’s nothing, not bad. Uh, just my family texting me…about you, that’s all.” 

Smirking, “About me? Should I run for the hills?” [Y/N] wouldn’t deny that how she was portrayed in the media was a wild child. If she was on the outside looking at herself, she’d be a little weary. But, she always held herself to be respectful and kind. 

He shook his head, laughing. Looking at his beer bottle, he sighed. “Actually, no. Quite the opposite.” 

This time, her brow quirked in curiosity. “The opposite? Most people think I’m reckless.” 

Sucking in air, he debated if he should reveal what the messages were saying. Tilting his head back and forth, he just went for it. “Nah, my mum really likes you. I think she likes that you’re determined and spontaneous.” Looking back down at his bottle, he started to peel the label. “She told me that I should take you on a date…..” 

“A date, hm?” [Y/N] murmured with a bit of humor in her words. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “And dad agrees.” 

Sipping on her beer some more, she chuckled. “The dreaded what are we to each other conversation hasn’t even come up and I’m already pre-approved.” She winked. [Y/N] wouldn’t lie about it but she did find Tom to be rather desirable. Far from the kind that she usually gravitated towards, usually the bad boys that used her. [Y/N] had a thing for bad boys, accents, and brains. Tom wasn’t necessarily a bad boy but he was an actor, it wouldn’t surprise her to find him in that kind of role eventually and her to go crazy. But, he had an accent and from what she had learned from their friendship was that he was incredibly smart as well. 

“That’s rare, you know.” Tom pointed out. “Usually my parents find at least one thing that they don’t like about the girls I’ve brought home.” 

“Give them time, I’m a book of flaws.” She muttered. 

“I don’t know,” Tom answered, “You’re pretty popular out here in London. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least bit if my parents knew all about you.” 

“Yikes.” [Y/N] chuckled. Bringing the bottle to her lips, she shrugged. “Although, dating you wouldn’t be bad.” 

This surprised him, “What?” 

“Come on, Tom.” She breathed, giving him a smirk. “You’re hot.” She laughed at his facial expression “But let’s be honest, you couldn’t handle me.” 

He rose a brow, “You don’t think I can handle you? I spent four nights in a row drinking myself into oblivion with you.” 

“Oh, Tom.” She sighed, shaking her head. “That’s not what I meant.” Pursing her lips, [Y/N] thought about if she should go into detail. Running her tongue over her teeth, she leaned forward. “What I mean is that, I’m a very intimate person.” Tilting her head, she smirked a little. “Out in public, I might be a little out of control but typically reserved but behind close doors,” leaning back, she snickered. “it’s a whole different world. That is what you couldn’t handle.” 

Tom could feel his insides burning at the thought of what she could be like behind closed doors. Deciding to be a little brave, he shot back with, “How do you know if you haven’t tried?” 

“A little bold, aren’t we?” She commented. 

He shrugged, “You said I couldn’t handle you but I think you’re wrong.” 

“Wrong, huh?” She mused. Taking another swig of her beer, “Alright.” She set down the bottle on his side table before climbing over and sitting in his lap.

“Wha? What are you doing?” Tom stammered.

Smirking a smirk that sent chills down his back, she leaned forward. “I’m about to prove you wrong.”  Without giving Tom a second to register what she meant, she pressed her lips against his. Rocking forward, she nipped his lips before he finally kissed back. It didn’t take long for the heat to build up in their bodies.

Her nails were digging into his shoulders while his were digging into her hips. Tom had never felt a kiss be so exhilarating before. It was a different kind of feeling that he had never felt and it was already too late because he was addicted. A feeling of a grand euphoria pouring out of her lips and into his. He’d bet that kissing [Y/N] was just like taking ecstasy all night. 

Pulling from him, she nipped down his neck and all over his collarbone before going back to where it started. Kissing him for a few more seconds, she chuckled against his lips and pulled away completely. She tore herself away from him and stood up. Walking back to where her beer sat, she snatched it up and took a good swig. “I’ll admit, Holland. I’m a bit impressed by your kissing skills. Who have you been snogging?” 

Tom gave her an amused look, “Ha, ha.” He was still in a bit of a high to really concentrate on scolding her for mocking him. Shaking his head, he tried to clear his fuzzy thoughts. Running a hand over his hair, he muttered out, “Bloody Hell.” 

Plopping down next to him, she leaned her head back. “Too much?” 

Tom rubbed his jaw, glancing over at her. “Not enough, actually.” 

She gave a loose laugh, quirking a brow. “I’m warning you.” Sitting up straight, she looked at him sincerely. “You do not want to get involved with me.” 

“I think I do.” Tom whispered, staring into her eyes. Getting lost in them, wondering what kind of things they’d get themselves into. He wasn’t nervous like he had been with his previous girl friends. Something about [Y/N] was calming with a bit of lust for adventure. 

[Y/N] shook her head, “You really don’t. I’m a mess, Tom. I’m indecisive, a work-a-holic, impulsive, irresponsible, irrational, and slightly neurotic.” She smiled lightly, shaking her head again. “Those aren’t good qualities to have to be worthy of your affection.” 

Tom smiled sincerely, turning, he brought his hands to her face, cradling her worried expression in his hands. “When I’m with you, I feel like I can take over the world. All my insecurities and everything I’ve ever thought badly of myself just disappears. I don’t care if you’re indecisive, impulsive, or irrational. That just makes you, you. And I’m a work-a-holic too, I love my job. Acting is something I want to do forever. And the whole neurotic thing? Well, that can be easily medicated.” Tom smirked, winking after his medicated joke. 

She laughed, “You are insane to justify my bad traits.” 

Tom dropped his hands and pressed his lips together. “I like you, [Y/N]. I do. Life with you sounds great, amazing actually. You’re saying no without giving it a chance.” 

[Y/N] grabbed his hand, “Because I’m trying to spare you from my crazy, chaotic life.” 

“I don’t need sparing, love. I can handle my own. I promise.” 

[Y/N] stared at him for a few minutes, pressing her lips together as well. She couldn’t lie that the connection she had with the Brit was amazing, she missed being with him during her crazy tour days. [Y/N] spent her nights singing, dancing, and drinking. And every single time, she’d have a moment of clarity and miss the one person she told herself not to catch feelings for. 

She lived a fast paced life, it was what she always wanted. [Y/N] wasn’t sure if she had room for a relationship. But, it didn’t mean she didn’t crave it. She wanted both. She wanted him. Sucking in air, she set down her beer, “Fine.” 

“Fine?” Tom questioned. 

Nodding, “Yup. Fine.” She smirked, “You don’t want to heed my warning, Tom. Then okay. Buckle up, love. Loving me will be one hell of a joyride.” Moving in close, she grabbed his chin and crashed her lips against his. Enjoying the moment and relishing that for once aside from pursuing her dream that making this decision would be the best one yet. Pulling apart just long enough for her to whisper against his lips, “Because there’s nothing holding me back.” 


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anonymous asked:

"I need you, though." Chlonette or Maribee? If you can! Love your fics btw they just keep getting better!

Ok… I had an idea… and I ran with it… and… yeah…. that escalated quickly.

most of this will be under a read more because its about 3k words long… 

(Also some mention of unrequited Chloe/Adrien and Adrienette) Hope you like it.


“You’re probably wondering what I am doing here.” 

“Yeah!” Marinette said, clutching her covers to her chest as she tried to process the sight of the super heroine sitting cross legged on the edge of her bed. “How did you even-” 

“I came in through your skylight,” Queen bee said cutting off the question with a wave of her hand, “Chat mentioned a while back that you usually keep it unlocked and I needed to talk to you.” 

“I am going to kill that stupid cat,” she muttered under her breath. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Marinette said quickly. “So, what are you doing here?”  

“Well you see, the thing is… wait are you naked under there?” Bee gasped, her eyes going wide and her face flushing an obvious red even in the semi-darkness.

“No! Why would you say that?!” Marinette shot back, her own face coloring. 

“Well you are doing the whole, blanket clutchy thing!” 

“Because a stranger has shown up out of nowhere in my bedroom in the middle of the night and I am in my pajamas!” 

“But I’m not a stranger I am a superhero. And I know that Chat visits you.”

“He doesn’t come in when I am sleeping!” 

“Oh. I guess you have a point there,” Bee said looking thoughtful. “Anyways I need your help.” 

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