man fixing the lighting in this took so much work sigh

Skyline {III}

Originally posted by coolbackflips

Warnings: Blood

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: You guys!!!!  I can’t believe you are all so nice honestly!!!!  I hit 500 followers today so as a thank you, here is pt. 3 a day earlier than expected!!  Forgive me if there are any mistakes, as I stayed up late to finish it (I have to be up in six hours for work oh lord) and I really hope you guys like it.  There most definitely will be a pt. 4, and possibly pt. 5, as this scene became longer than expected, and I decided to split it between two chapters.  Again, thank you so much, guys.  All my love.

{part I} {part II}

As the end of August neared, you began to fear the return of school.  Not because you hated it—in fact, you were fond of school.  You liked learning, you liked seeing your friends from certain classes, and you even missed some of your teachers. However, with the return of your school came the return of Spider-Man’s school.  He had explained to you how difficult it was to balance the responsibilities of his civilian life with the responsibilities of being a superhero. Between those tightropes of time management, you doubted there would be any hours allotted to visiting you.

You knew that you had no right to be sad about your predicament.  The right thing to do would be to not think selfishly, and just be happy with the time you were given with someone who doesn’t normally share their world. But, no matter how many times you had a talk with yourself, you still couldn’t bring yourself out of your melancholy thoughts.

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An Overrated Cliché

Summary: That Spider-Man kiss video was definitely cliché and cheesy, which is exactly the reason that Spidey and Y/N have to do it.

Word Count: 2235

Warnings: Heights and Swearing.

A/N: casually drops this after almost a year without writing like okay!! okay!! please enjoy this (it has good format!!) :0 and thank you to @buckys-fossil for actually tolerating me and proofreading this, i love you!!! also this is a gender neutral fic!!!! if you followed me when i was strictly an aesthetic blog well then, hello i write fics too

Originally posted by kimtaeyoen

Summer weather was the worst.

Summer holiday wasn’t that much better, what with having cabin fever and all. It had been a week since you had left the comfort of your apartment and three hours since you flopped onto the couch and lay there. All of your friends had been busy, Michelle doing her protesting, Liz with college preparation. It left you with nothing much to do other than lounge around your home.

The fan placed on the coffee table was set on revolve and hit your body with cool breezes. Laying on your side and absentmindedly watching season three of Phineas and Ferb, you felt jealous that those children were creative enough to make the most of your summer. It was a big contrast to you, as you hadn’t done anything the entire few weeks of summer there had been.

A thought suddenly came to mind and you decided to act on it. Shutting off the TV and fan, you put on actual clothes and took care of your hygiene before fixing your hair and pulling on your sneakers. Making sure to had some money and the house key, you texted your mom.

to: mom
hey i’m leaving the apartment for the first time in days are you proud of me

It didn’t take her long to reply.

from: mom
Fine with me, I was about to kick you out and make you do something.

You laughed at her text before tucking your phone away and leaving the apartment and locking the door.

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Love Me Like You Do (Part 1)

Summary: Draco decides to visit America before he gets married to Astoria Greengrass, fulfilling a pact his family has made with hers. It’s a last-minute trip he wants to take before he settles down to fulfill his duties as a Malfoy. Until he meets you, and you change his whole life.

Word Count: 3,073

Warnings: None.

A/N: Another daydream of mine with my beloved Draco. Hope you all enjoy! 

Originally posted by nellaey


“Draco? Draco!”

Draco blinked and met his mother’s eyes. “Yes?”

Narcissa Malfoy gave him a thin-lipped smile, embarrassment across her otherwise-stoic features. “Are you with us, dear?”

Draco, in fact, wasn’t in the room. His mind had been wandering ever since his father began to talk about business and how he was seeking to invest his Galleons into worthy ideas. Nothing that really interested Draco. His passion was found in cauldrons, steaming potions, watching them change colors as Draco neared the discoveries of spells and concoctions that would help the wizarding world throughout the planet.

Yet his parents weren’t so fond of his chosen career path. They called it a hobby, didn’t acknowledge Draco’s efficacity in it, and Lucius incessantly insisted that Draco meet with him weekly to go over the family’s interests and what to do to bring even more fortune to the Malfoy household.

The war had been unkind to his family. Pureblooded thinking had been shunned and Lucius Malfoy had been forced to swallow his pride and beliefs to keep going forward, to try to fix the wrongs that had tarnished his household when he had chosen the wrong side.

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Sweet Creature (M)

*I have no words*

Request: Can I get a Sub Jungkook smut where their on the couch and he cums in his pants while the reader is grinding on him on his lap and dirty talks to him in his ear??? Thanks☺️☺️☺️

Word Count: 6.9k words (heh heh)

Let me ruin you goddammit


Let’s get one thing straight. You never claimed to be a good person, never did charity work, never been the perfect daughter for your parents. And you sure as hell wasn’t someone’s little girlfriend.

You did what you want, who you wanted and slipped out of their sheets before they murmur good morning in your ear. You were a ‘no strings attached’ girl, making sure that you would never become someone’s puppet. Of course, you weren’t immune to the disease called ‘love’, your innocent high school days plagued with your naive mindset of finding the ‘one’. It still haunts you, one of the reasons your night doesn’t end with a shot of whisky and half a pack of beer. The only person who was willing to put up with you was your best friend, Jungkook.

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Good Girl (Dom!Sherlock x reader)

A/N: SOMEONE reminded me of Sherlock using the riding crop week ago and I realized I had not thought of it enough, or even enjoyed it enough. So let’s dig into it, shall we? Also I might be writing about Molly a bit too harshly on this one, but I really like her character, so don’t think I’m trying to bully her.

Warnings: smut, so much smut, riding crop, bondage, it ended up with dom!sherlock I think that’s the riding crop’s fault, some swearing.


”Oh, you’re here with that again.” Molly Hooper gasped at the sight of the riding crop in Sherlock’s hand. She had not expected to see him with it ever again. Her fingers fiddled the files she held so dearly against her chest, nervously taking in uneven breaths, her eyes wide and a warm smile creeping it’s way on her thin pink lips. Those brown beaming eyes fixing on the man’s face in front of her, trying to get an answer to an unsaid question that was right at the tip of her tongue and since she got none, deciding to make herself heard she squeaked out, ”Another experiment?”

Sherlock’s expressionless face was still blank, his pale skin almost shining under the bright white lights that shone from the lamps above them in the hallway down stairs in St. Bartholomew’s hospital at the morgue section. He faked a smile, trying his best to seem sincere, but the curve on his lips disappearing as fast as it appeared after he answered to Molly’s presumption by, ”Yes, obviously.” He then gazed over Molly’s shoulder to the door she had just exited, her spot where she examined the bodies brought in for crime consulting. ”Is your room free for use?” The smile reappearing on his face, eyes shining as he sweetly pointed towards the door.

Molly too gazed over her shoulder, dumbfounded by Sherlock’s straight forward demeanor, her pony tail swishing while following her head’s movement back and forth. She sharply turned back to Sherlock and looked disappointingly doubtful. In these occasions Sherlock would need to give Molly numerous compliments to get her bend to his will, usually two or three would do it, and he still had some laying about in the deeps of his mind. He didn’t usually settle for being told no, but even as easy as Molly was he hated to go through the trouble. Then again he didn’t need to feel bad. He was in a relationship, she knew it too. He could point out a nice thing or two about her appearance without feeling guilt.

”Well, I actually just cleared the hall and was about to get home…” Molly muttered biting down on her lower lip. She was still staring right back as Sherlock with her big eyes, much like a puppy. As Sherlock stared back at her she tried to find something, anything, to fix her eyes on so she wouldn’t feel uncomfortable by the silence that took over the hallway the both had blocked. Her fingers drummed the surface of the file on her arms and before Sherlock got to test his new compliment on Molly she sighed, ”I could stay for an hour longer.”

Sherlock genuinely smiled, thanked Molly and followed after her as she turned on her heels and headed back to her spot, keeping the door open for Sherlock as he followed close behind. He was a step away from Molly, but he was careful enough not to step on her heels, keeping the distance long enough to avoid doing so. He instructed Molly what he needed, a body, in what position and age, which actually at this point were all unnecessary to him, but to keep with his habits he went by it anyway. He picked an older woman, not over fifty years old, chubby, about a day old corpse.

When you entered the hospital after receiving a message from Sherlock, where he suggested you to meet him at the morgue before going to Baker Street, you took the elevator to the down floors. He rather would company you on your way to his flat than have you wait him there for fifteen to sixty minutes when you could wait for him hear, right next to him.

You knew he was there for an experiment, but you hadn’t been informed which kind, but it wasn’t the first time. He didn’t much go with explaining everything and every part of his work to you, only when he saw fit. You exited the elevator, turned down the hall, through a door and saw Molly Hooper standing close to a window. She was flinching at the sight ahead of her that you were unable to witness. This made your imagination run wild. If Sherlock was cutting a corpse to pieces, scaring Molly you would let him hear from it for sure.

You and Molly were rather good friends, though you didn’t see each other that often. You had known her longer than Sherlock and back then, when you finally met the man Molly had been daydreaming about, constantly talking about him, you felt really bad for finding him charming, sexy and interesting. You wanted to know him better, you could point out just how unique person he was by first standing and that intrigued you. Sherlock, back then, didn’t much try to approach you and actually acted very cold toward you, but as time passed he did become interested in you. The truth was that he had found you just as interesting as you had found him, but, incapable of handling feelings and emotions he tried to push you away. But when Sherlock did tell you how he felt you fought back, for Molly. You didn’t want to be that friend that steals boyfriend or a crush, though Sherlock and Molly had never dated. Time went by and Molly realized how much Sherlock cared for you, she insisted you to let him take you out and you did. Now you had been dating for almost a year with the detective and it didn’t bother Molly, she still did fancy Sherlock, yes, but would never do anything, or try anything because she knew you and him were together.

You approached Molly with long strides, your hands sway on either side of you, your shoes hitting the floor and the sound echoing loudly, but it wasn’t enough to bring Molly back from her trance. Only until you were right beside her, already talking, she jumped realizing you were there. She was holding a file in her arms, her white long jacket almost burying her form under, her hands barely showing as she held the file high, the top touching her chin. You took a stand next to her after you had greeted her and asked her, ”What’s he doing?” Molly simply nodded towards the window.

You turned to look through the glass and what you saw almost stopped your heart, the breath you took getting stuck in your throat. The reflection of your boyfriend on the other side moved fast, mirroring his movements as he kept whipping the pale lifeless body, hair falling on his face, sweat drops lining on his forehead. He was so concentrated on what he was doing that he hadn’t even noticed you, much like Molly just now. You and she stood there in silence for a minute, admiring Sherlock in his tight purple dress shirt, black jacket and trousers that hugged his body perfectly, not too tight to bother his doings.

Your eyes were captivated by the show. You pressed your thighs together, trying to evade the wetness that increased between your legs from growing, your cheeks turning pink. You could hear your own breathing, deep and long breaths. You felt ashamed that you were standing by your good friend when your boyfriend was right there, making you feel like this. The whip was drawn back then coming down in a fast swish, the end of the crop must likely echoing in the other room. Sherlock’s hair pulled back when he straightened his back, readying for another spank, then falling over his eyes when his head lowered. It took all of your efforts to move your gaze away from Sherlock and to finally concentrate on Molly, to try and be polite like a normal human being should.

”How have you been, Molly?” You asked and even if you had tried to sound as friendly and natural it didn’t show. You ended up reminding of your shy demeanor where you had only just met the woman in front of you and this was the first time talking to her which was not true. She was your closest friend. You had seen Molly repeatedly just last month. Of course these days always Sherlock being precent. ”I haven’t seen you in a while.” You gave her a warm smile to which she answered with one of her own. You started a conversation that was irrelevant to Sherlock’s on going spanking in the next room, and you kept up with it for about ten minutes. You were talking about work and Molly’s life. She had met someone who she considered worthy of her time and you cheered her to go for it, just like she had done with you on Sherlock. After those ten minutes she looked at her phone screen to see the clock and gasped. She had two missed calls and she was late from seeing this mysterious man of hers.

You put your hands comfortingly on her shoulders, promised her you and Sherlock would finish things in here while she went to change so she could clean up after Sherlock and get to her man. Molly thanked you and rushed to change, typing on her phone and then as she went to enter through a door she lifted her phone over her ear to call. You turned back to Sherlock who still kept spanking and couldn’t but freeze for another minute. He lifted his gaze, took couple of uncontrolled steps and flinched, or so it looked like, as he saw you there instead of Molly. He smirked and nodded his head, out of breath he was, to which you answered by a wave of your hand and mouthing ’Hi’ to him. He beckoned you to company him on the other side of the glass and you did as you were asked.

”Hello, Sherlock.” You smiled, closing the door behind you. The soft click heard by you both, your hand lingering on the handle while you stood near the entrance. Sherlock smirked at you and your weariness, a chuckle leaving his lips, his hands gripping the riding crop, eyes fixed on it, but not concentrated by the object. He spun on his heels, his eyes were gleaming by now, at the sight of you, and he was greatly humored  by something. He tilted his head and asked, ”Did you enjoy the show?”

”Molly needs to leave soon so better finish up what you’re doing.” You informed in an ordering tone trying to change the subject, but still held a playful smile on your lips. You walked right beside Sherlock, the room was probably a degree or two warmer than on the other side. Your steps were short, but fast enough as you approached him, not letting him grow impatient while he already waited to embrace you. He held his left hand stretched inviting you for a side hug and as you reached his arm he pulled you to his side, kissing your right temple. The riding crop was still in his right hand, his fingers gripping on it, holding it on his side and the tip of it brushing close the floor.

”I’m almost ready.” He said and his left hand’s fingers wrapped around your wrist, then a smirk spread on his lips. ”So you did enjoy the show?” That bastard just checked your pulse, you realized. ”Someone’s exited.” He stated and you looked up at his bright shining eyes and a smile he tried to keep away from spreading on his lips. His hair looked more black than dark brown in the dim light in the room you were in and it shadowed his whole face, strands of hair hanging loosely over his face. You wanted to hit him, but Sherlock pulled you closer, your hands pressed on either side of your body making it impossible for you to inform him of your opinion. You settle for a frown which wasn’t as effective as a fist to his shoulder would’ve been.

He laughed at your expression, you reminded him of an unhappy child and he rubbed your left arm with his that was still wrapped around you. He leaned closer, his breath tickling your skin, lips brushing your ear, ”There. Finished.” It came out in a choked chuckled he had tried to hide, but failed. You suspected he really even cared you had caught him finding the situation humorous, then again you didn’t even know what the situation was in the first place, so you gave him a suspicious grin, your body leaning inches away from him to your left to get a better look at him.

”You didn’t even do anything.” You pin pointed, eyebrows low and eyes slightly narrowed but not scowling, amusement clear on your features but still doubtful. You could see Sherlock smile wickedly at your statement, his head turning towards the window to see had Molly already come back but fortunately was met with a sight of an empty hallway. He laughed and pulled you close again, whispering to your ear, ”Tell me, how long had you been watching?” You answered with, ”Ten minutes or so.” Of course you weren’t hundred percent sure. Sherlock nodded in agreement and looked away again. He had had hard time looking straight back at you for some reason and you kept trying to catch his attention, but failed.

”Guess that’s enough.” Sherlock admitted to himself. He pulled away from the hug and started to get ready to leave, he took his jacket near the doorway, from a hanger as well as his scarf. He didn’t give you any answers from there on. You met Molly before exiting the hospital then headed to hail for a cab. Sherlock opened the door for you, he was smiling constantly and in very good mood. He sat right beside you in the cab, closer than usually and what he did through the whole ride gave away what he was up to. His hand was on your thigh, caressing and massaging the surface of your pants, inching higher and higher. You couldn’t stop smiling. So this was one of those days then. His eagerness surprised you, that you had to admit.

When you finally got to Baker Street, Sherlock paid the ride, rushing to open the door to his flat for you and when you went inside, he shut the door with a loud bang. You were taking your coat off when Sherlock took a stand right behind you, his front pressed firmly against your back. His breath lingered on your shoulders and you could hear him panting. He was so deliciously needy for you by now that you couldn’t help but tease him a little.

”Leave your coat and shoes, get upstairs to my bedroom and start stripping.” He growled in your ear. You knew he would get impatient in a second, but you wanted this. He had made you go through his show, now he had to go through yours. The coat you were wearing had now fallen off your shoulders, hanging on your elbows when you gazed at Sherlock over your shoulder, peeking at him sexily, biting your lower lip and asked, ”Do you want me completely naked or in my underwear?” You teased, pulling your hair back so he could see you better. He sucked air in his lungs, his eyes narrowing when he hissed, ”Everything on the floor. And don’t make me wait for another second, or I will have to punish you.” You tried to keep the chuckle in. Oh you would enjoy this.

”Are we in a hurry?” You purred, now fully facing him, on your tip toes. Your hands found their way on his shoulders, your lips touching his chin as you went to whisper, ”Are you too eager you can’t wait any longer?” That was when Sherlock snapped. He growled, lifting the riding crop to his mouth and bit on it, lowered his shoulders, his coat falling on the floor, he ripped his scarf off around his neck, that too on the floor in a blink and then he hooked his hands behind your thighs, pulling you to him, lifting you up. Your chest was pressed against his, your hands now behind his back, legs around his hips as he started to carry you upstairs. You giggled at his sudden dominance.

Sherlock carried you straight to his room, kicking the ajar door open with his foot and threw you on the bed, closing the door just as loudly as the front door. He gave you a wild, lustful look, taking the crop from his mouth and ordered you, ”Clothes off. Now.” And you did as he asked. You took your time though, giving him a show you slid your pants down with slow motion, your shirt pulled over your head, your hips swinging while you stripped. You could see the bulge in Sherlock’s pants. You bit your lip again, now taking the top that had been under your long sleeved shirt, lifting it to shield your eyes and while you were at it, Sherlock approached you fast, pulling the cloth off you and throwing it somewhere in his room. You unclasped your bra, taking it off while Sherlock went down on you. You heard him moan as he took a whiff. ”So wet for me already.” He moaned, taking your knickers, ”Just as I suspected.” then pushing you back down on his bed.

His room was dark, the only light came from through the thin and light curtains, but it wasn’t much. Then again you didn’t really care was it day light or moon light in which you fucked, just that you could see his face. You crawled back on the bed, Sherlock taking a step closer, he hungrily studied your now naked body. You lifted your head and dared to ask, ”Aren’t you going to take yours off?” That made Sherlock smile. It was one of those dominant smiles that gave you the answer. This was going to take time. You were in for a good and long play, wether you liked it or not, and Sherlock would make sure you would suffer. This wasn’t going to be one of those fair fights, but a foreplay with Sherlock was never fair. He would make sure to torture you with a long teasing. ”I don’t need to take mine off.” He chuckled. That cocky bastard.

”Shame, I would love to help.” You smirked. You made a risky move, lifting your leg up in the air, your toes touching the bulge in his pants and rubbing the fabric that shielded his cock. You looked at Sherlock daringly, about to inch closer to unbuckle his belt when he shoved your leg away with a grunt. He took a hold of your ankles, pulled at them so you were laying on your back, towering over you and whispered with a low, threatening tone, ”One more move and I will tie you to the bed, darling.” This sent a shiver down your spine, your folds pulsing. You gave out a shaky breath, not able to contain yourself. You didn’t know was that what you wanted, for Sherlock to tie you down or to just go with what he had planned already? He was already warning you and you knew he could be very ruthless towards you in bed, but you also knew when you were challenged you couldn’t back up.

You kneed his groin fast but softly enough to not hurt him. His back arched and he moaned out loud in your ear. You moved your leg, your knee rubbing his bulge. You couldn’t continue it longer than five seconds before Sherlock pulled away from you. You sat up, half disappointed how long he lasted but half amused by his angered expression. He took fast long steps, took a pair of hang cuffs from his locker and turned to you. You playfully whined and pouted. ”Aw, come now Sherlock. I was just returning the favor.” You pulled your hands behind your back as if that would stop him from cuffing you to the bed and like you had suspected, it didn’t.

”On your stomach, woman.” He ordered coldly. You knit your brows together. You knew you were in for trouble as he addressed you by ’woman’ and you felt hesitant on turning your back to him. This resulted Sherlock rolling his eyes at you, he walked over to you, took you by the shoulders and turned you over. His hands were awfully forceful and powerful and you couldn’t fight him nor did you want to. You were in a state where every move he made, every touch he gave you made you tingle. His fingers wrapped around your left wrist, cuffed it and pulled it around one of the headboards iron bars. Then he took a hold of your right wrist, securing it with the other and got up from the bed. You looked at Sherlock over your shoulder, he admired your exposed body and you could tell that you disobeying, ending you cuffed to the bed had only turned him on even more.

He took the riding crop from the floor where he had dropped it when he had helped you strip, eyeing the object dangerously interested in it. He let his fingers caress the crop, taking his time admiring the item. Your breathing started to quicken. You had never done this before and were honestly nervous by now. You knew you could deal with pain, but you had never experienced it while sex, not like this. You had to admit that you had found it hot when he had whipped the dead body back in the hospital, secretly wanted him to use it on you, but now that you were there, laying naked on your stomach ready for a beating you couldn’t help but worry.

”This is going to serve as your punishment, for starters.” Sherlock informed, his eyes now back on you. ”But only for starters as I am aware this will also turn you on even more, so do not think I am being nice to you.” He warned with a low voice. He then lifted the crop and swished it through the air, the tip hitting you hard on your left butt cheek. You chocked out a sound that was a mix of yelp, gasp and shriek. The touch of the crop was so sudden and the pain so fast like a big elastic band hitting your rear you couldn’t make out sound louder than the snap itself that echoed from the spank.

”Now, count out with me.” Sherlock instructed coldly and showed no remorse which only exited you more. ”When you are unable to feel the blows only then I will stop. That was one.” He waited, but you said nothing. He huffed in irritation, then hit you again with the crop, hearing you gasp. ”One!” He yelled and you repeated his words shortly. ”Good girl.” Sherlock cooed, pleased at your cooperation and you felt the words sink in. You were getting wet by his hits, but him dressing you like that, so dominantly made you lose your mind.

You had reached to five when Sherlock stopped. He let his hand caress your red, sensitive behind with his tender fingers. You had never imagined that the sensation that came from being hit repeatedly and then caressed could feel this good, it really felt like a reward more than a punishment. Your body shook under his touch, anticipating to get a real reward from your dominant boyfriend, but your movements back fired. Sherlock mused, ”I see you can still feel my touch.” You whined when he withdrew his hand from you and gripped the crop. He held it high, over his head and calmly said, ”Keep counting with me, love.” And he brought it down hard. Thankfully it took him only six more spanks to find you silent, not responding and he stopped. He sat beside you and started caressing your behind.

You were out of breath, your ass tingling and cheeks wet from tears. You had to admit you had liked the spanking, the crop would definitely need to stay around, but you intended that next time it would be drawn on his skin, not yours. You relaxed as much as you could on the bed, the soft blankets underneath you caressing your skin nicely, warm from your body heath. You nuzzled your head to the pillows, moaned while Sherlock treated your stinging arse.

”Spread your legs for me.” Sherlock ordered after a while of silence and this time, without any nasty remarks or witty comebacks you did as he said. You couldn’t see, but you heard from his voice that he was smirking. ”Someone has learned their lesson.” This sent a spark through you and you instantly wanted to show him just how submissive you had become, it was in your nature to keep fighting and resisting. ”Good girl.” Sherlock purred and that made all the thoughts of resistance fade. You were a slave to that word. Oh how much you loved hearing him say it.

Sherlock got closer to the between of your legs, he took the riding crop out again, holding it loosely in his hand. You reacted to his movements and went to close your legs, but Sherlock stopped you. He took a hold of your calves and kept them in place with an iron like grip. ”Don’t close them.” He warned. You forced your legs to relax and let him do what he was about to. You jumped on the bed when he brought the tip of the crop up your wet slit, gathering some of your juices to it to examine how wet you were. You heard him groan, pleased by your wetness. He then threw the crop away, it ended up on the floor far away from the bed. You smiled, thinking finally you could get you release.

Sherlock reached over your body, his breath tickling your neck and he placed his lips on your bare skin, kissing you softly. He went down your spine, his hands on both side of your waist. He lingered at your lower back, his breath warm against you, kissing and licking your skin, worshipping you. You were breathing loudly, ready for him to take, to give you your release, but Sherlock was far from that. He went back up, his lips guiding him, back to your shoulders and to your neck. His curly hair ghosted on your cheek, his hands cupping your breasts. Oh how you had needed that. He massaged your nipples with his fingers, making sure to keep you moaning.

”Please.” You moaned in between deep breaths. ”Please, Sherlock.” You gasped. Sherlock grinned. You were already begging, how sad. ”Sherlock, I can’t take this anymore, I need you.” Your voice grew louder and louder, but Sherlock kept his pace steady, horribly slow. You didn’t want him to treat you this way, not now when he had started so dominantly, turning to your gentle lover that took his time to give all your body parts equally the same amount of love. His voice surprised you. It was nothing like what his actions gave out. He almost growled in your ear, ”You think you have learned your lesson?” He asked. You were baffled. What lesson? If he didn’t mean you disobeying his orders then you had no idea what he was talking about. ”When I give you an order, I expect you to follow it. No questions asked.” Good, so you were on the same page. You nodded your head, then moaned, ”I’ll be good. I’m a good girl. I’ll do what ever you say.” An evil grin spread on Sherlock’s lips. ”That is what I am counting on.” He gave you a last kiss, then pulled away. You heard him get off the bed, starting to strip. You were about to turn on your back when Sherlock snapped, ”I didn’t tell you to move. Don’t make me punish you again, love.”

You waited as he agonizingly slowly undressed himself, he could see you twitch on the bed, your eyes taking in every new naked part of him as he pulled the clothes off. ”How does it feel?” He asked. ”To have to wait for me?” You frowned. So this was payback time? ”It’s killing me.” You whispered truthfully. Sherlock hummed in agreement. ”Good.” He stated, now finally fully naked, his wonderful cock rock hard, pointing towards you. He walked closer, you moved on the bed but not changing your position. ”Now on your fours.” He said.

”Aren’t you going to uncut me?” You asked truly surprised. You longed to touch him. You longed to turn over and kiss him, bury your finger in his hair and pull him close. You heard Sherlock chuckle. ”You didn’t really think I was done with your punishment, did you?” Your eyes flew open. He knew how much you hated to be bound to the bed when he did give you your release. So this was it. This was one of his punishments. And you had thought it had been the riding crop. Stupid you.

”I did mention knowing you would get aroused by the riding crop before. This is your real punishment. You have been a very bad girl and I think your release will be rewarding enough. No need to untie you, maybe now my naughty girl will learn.” He purred and you cursed, but just inside of your head. You knew now that you had crossed a line. Why did you have to tease him so?

”Please, Sherlock, I promise I’ll be good from now on! Just please, untie me!” You pleaded as Sherlock positioned himself behind you. He put his hands on your ass that was now in the air, your legs slightly spread. ”No. You need to become more obedient and if I am to back away from my methods you will never learn. Now, embrace your reward, love. Next time I even might let you lay on your back.” And he thrusted in. You moaned louder than expected, your hands pulling the cuffs. You were sure you would have awful bruises on your wrists by the morning.

Sherlock pulled out slowly, then thrusted back in, his nails digging deep into your flesh as he pounded into you in a way that made you scream from pleasure. He was rough with you, his right hand finding it’s way in your hair and grasping it, pulling your head back as he thrusted. It didn’t take you long to come, and Sherlock came right after you, pulling out and spreading his cum over your holes and running down your thighs. You tried to even your breathing, your head hit the pillows, Sherlock retreating from you and laying next to you, opening the cuffs for you so you could lay down next to him.

Sherlock pulled you to his embrace, hugged you and kissed you. You snuggled close to him, both of you sweaty and still out of breath. Sherlock was first to talk, ”I hope I didn’t hurt you too much.” He whispered. You shook your head. ”No, just the right amount.” You admitted. ”I really didn’t intend to be so ruthless.” Sherlock told you, but he didn’t sound so sincere as he had intended. ”It’s alright, as long as you let me use the crop next time.” You chuckled, your eyes starting to close. Sherlock laughed at that and said, ”Didn’t I tell you that next time, it will be you, once again cuffed to the bed on your back?”

”You were serious?” You asked, your eyes opening. Your boyfriend laughed at your puzzled expression. ”Of course I was serious. Your punishment is far from over.” He explained and kissed the top of your head. ”You fucking sociopath.” You sighed.

Stress Relief (M)

video credits: sweaterpawsjimin

gif created by: Admin Smuttyfairy

Summary: When it’s been awhile since you’ve paid a visit to Mr. CEO Kim Taehyung’s office for help in his relief of stress. c;

Genre: saaa-mutttttt

Keywords: rough sex, dirty talk, begging, teasing, orgasm denial(ish)??, spanking c:

Word Count: 4028

Written by: Admin Smuttyfairy

A/N: I tried :D…anyway, I started on this last summer and completely forgot about it until I was scrolling through my google doc files. I started working on it again so here’s the finished product (again, i tried :D)!

Keep reading

Tom Holland x Reader: Apartment

Summary: You and Tom Holland are neighbors in the same apartment complex. You have a crush on him, he has a girlfriend. What could go wrong? You could think of five separate incidents.

Warnings: cursing

Word count: 7,132


No 1: the coffee maker incident (which was all harrison’s fault)

The moment your knuckles leave the door it’s already swinging back, revealing a face flushed with relief. Tom Holland’s eyes flutter closed, leaning his head against the door frame and looking up at you through his lashes with a smile plastered on his face.

“Oh thank god you actually came. You’re good at fixing things, right?” he asked, ushering you into his apartment before hearing your answer. You’re a little reluctant to enter, thinking that you’ll somehow track mud across his pristine white carpet, or smudge a stain on his suede chairs that weren’t in there the last time you’d been over.

“I’m good at putting Ikea furniture together, if that’s what you mean,” you call after him as you hop around on one foot, attempting to slide your boots off without appearing like a fool. You look around once more, taking in the features of Tom’s place.

You can’t say you like what he’s done. There are too many colors; blues and yellows that are too bold, an abundance of throw pillows against a couch that you swear your parents had gushed over in a Rooms-To-Go catalog. None of it looks like him, and you have an inkling as to why, but you keep your mouth shut as you follow the sound of two voices into his kitchen.

“You help me with my T.V all the time. Are you good with stuff like this?” Tom inquires, looking at you over his shoulder. He’s standing in front of something, hunched over the island in the center of the room. On his left, staring at you over his mug, Harrison is sipping away on something.

There’s a smug look in his blue eyes that makes you want to tip his drink onto his shirt, but instead you ignore him, standing on Tom’s right. In front of you is a simple small coffee maker; not a Keurig, but something akin, you could imagine.

“What’s wrong with it?” you question, looking around the top and sides for damage. Tom has his knuckle in his mouth, looking worriedly at the device in front of him. You’ve never seen such an anxious look on his face and it makes your brows crease. “Tom?”

“Hm?” he says, snapping his eyes back to you. The normally sparkling brown hues are muddy, clouded with something you can’t identify. “It’s just… I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I noticed it was out of water and I went to refill it, but when I pressed the button, it wouldn’t make anything.”

Perplexed, you flipped open the lid, seeing nothing wrong. You checked the coffee ground compartment, seeing a pierced, but otherwise unused k-cup sitting in there. With crossed arms, you pressed the power button again, just to be certain.

The three of you watched as the machine’s light started to blink. You cut your eyes over to Tom, wondering what kind of stunt he was pulling. Opening your mouth to speak, you were cut off by the red light blinking out, only for nothing else to happen.

“See!” Tom cried out, fisting his hands in his hair. It curled out of his fist, making two small pony tails at the top of his head. Your eyes narrowed, realizing just how much his hair had grown in the past few months. You hadn’t seen too much of him to have a decent comparison, but you remembered it being much shorter.

“—just wait till she comes home and sees this broken! She’s going to kill me!” Your heart drops into your stomach, limbs suddenly feeling heavy. The coffee maker belonged to his girlfriend. You nodded, now understanding why he had sounded so urgent when he’d called you.

“You’re fucking Spider-Man, ya? Just go out and buy a new one with all that Marvel money,” Harrison pointed out, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his drink. “She won’t even know the difference.”

“They don’t even make this stupid model anymore, she’s going to know it’s broken. And I didn’t even break it!” he exclaimed, his voice shaking with worry. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to calm the hell down, that’s what,” you chided, resting your hands on Tom’s shoulders. He relaxed under your touch, walking backwards as you steered him onto a bar stool. “It’s not the end of the world, dude, just breathe,” you reminded him, watching as his chest heaved heavily. Your hands felt warm as they slid down his arms, coming to rest on the island as you examined the coffee maker.

You drained it of its water, checking the main compartment for any irregularities. Immediately you noted a white film around the sides, and you paused, looking from the sink, to the device, and finally at Harrison.

“Harrison? What are you drinking?” you asked, pulling your phone from your back pocket and shining the flashlight down to the bottom.

“Hot chocolate,” he replied carefully, eyes darting between you and Tom. Peering down, you carefully wiped your finger against the bottom of the compartment, your nails scratching against a hard surface, coated with something.

“Haz, there’s no pot in the sink, or in the dishwasher. What—HAZ!” Tom growled, having put the pieces together. “Did you put milk in the coffee maker?”

“I mean, yeah,” he admitted a not-so-guilty look across his face. “It was sitting right there, and it was faster than heating up a pot.”

“Ah-ha,” you chuckled, closing one eye to look down into the coffee maker. “That would explain this weird shit covering the bottom of this thing.” You gave a pointed look at Harrison, who hadn’t even tried to look remorseful. “You do realize that when you don’t clean up heated milk, it leaves a hard coating on metal. This coffee maker basically has a hot plate that boils the water and then sucks in into a tube. My best guess it that the milk hardened, and the water can’t get through,” you assessed.

“Well how do we fix it?” Tom asked, crossing his arms and looking at you. He seemed to believe you had all the answers, and you bit your lip to hold back you stutters. You didn’t want to disappoint him, to make him think you weren’t the person for the job.

Cutting your eyes over at Harrison, you gave him a pointed look; you made it look reprimanding, but it was really to wipe the smirk off his face. He’d had a smug look since the moment you walked in and it bothered you, making the tips of your ears feel hot.

“Well for starters, don’t do it again,” you bit out, glaring daggers at Harrison. He didn’t reply, but he did walk out of the room, shrugging his shoulders as he walked behind you.

Tom noted the fixed stares you gave him, but said nothing of it. You pursed your lips before looking at the brunette, holding out your hand and asking for a knife.

He blinked, warily pulling out a butter knife and placing it into your palm. You frowned at it, turning it over in your hands. “I need a sharper one.”

Tom raised a brow, hazel eyes glimmering with suspicion. You snorted, wondering if he was actually afraid of you with a knife.

“What, you think I’m going to kill you or something?” You joked. You wondered for a moment if your joke was too dark for a guy who was just your neighbor, but he eventually chuckled, handing you a knife with a sharp, long blade. You gave him your phone, and asked him to shine it down into the machine. Silently, with the two of your heads close together, you both bowed your heads with work to do.

This was an awkward fifteen minutes. Every now and then Tom would pick his eyes up and watch as your face scrunched in concentration. Your lips would part as an almost inaudible curse passed through, making him laugh a bit. Every time you felt him move you would try not to catch his gaze, attempting to discreetly look at him. You could feel how close he was and it felt wrong that your heart was beating so fast, or that you couldn’t breathe.

After what felt like hours, you retracted, taking the machine to the sink to wash it out. You filled it and plugged it back in, waiting patiently with a mug as you started it.

Tom looked as though he was holding a breath, and sure enough, when the coffee streams out he sighed, leaning against the counter with his entire weight, looking as though he’s been saved from the fires of hell.

He turns, eyes shining in praise as he gushed a bunch of rushed thank you’s, his accent slurring everything together. You’re really just nodding and smiling, telling him that it’s fine and no big deal. You’ll tell yourself anything to get rid of the hammering in your chest, louder than construction work as you feel blood rush to your face.

“I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.” He sounds like he’s speaking about your presence in general, but that can’t be true. All you’ve ever done for him was put together furniture and now fix his coffee maker, but he seems to like you, as a friend and neighbor. Which you’ll take.

“It’s no problem at all Tom. And it’ll be less of a problem if I can have this,” you pull the mug away, bringing the rich black coffee to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Do you want to stay for a bit? I feel like you’re always in and out, and-“ his words die as his cell phone rings, the ringtone that default sound that makes you jump. He takes it, holding his hand up apologetically, but you shake your head. You weren’t going to stay anyways.

Grabbing your things, you pass Harrison, who looks pretty comfortable on a couch that isn’t his, sipping on the last of his hot chocolate. He smiles when you walk by, but it’s a knowing one, as though he can read your thoughts. You scoff, but before you can get your shoes back on, Harrison says, “You should be thanking me.”

That really riles you up, and you laugh, a forced, sarcastic thing. “For what?”

“If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be making any moves.” There’s a wink, but you don’t really care to return his comment. You strain out a “Bye, Harrison,” before closing the door and leaning your back against it.

The cup in your hand is scorching your palm, but you smile regardless. Another reason to knock on Tom’s door. 


No. 2: The incident where you meet his girlfriend and things go wrong

You had this sick feeling in your gut that toady wasn’t the best day to bring back the mug you borrowed from Tom. It was simply the day after, the most reasonable time to drop by and say, “hey, I forgot I took this” without seeming like you harbored it, or cast a spell on it. The little thing sat neatly in your hands, cradled gently as though it was made of crystal.

Your knock was verging on two minutes ago, so you decided to go again, wondering briefly if you should say his name. Calling him may have been a bad idea, but before you could form his name, the door swung back, revealing a brunette that was not Tom.

His girlfriend’s caramel colored hair was a cascade of freshly made curls, evident from the fact that her makeup and outfit were already complete. She lacked shoes, and a sense of hospitality, sizing you up like bully on a playground. When she reached your eyes, you balked, deciding whether it was better to state your purpose, or just drop the item near her feet and scram.  

It would have been much easier for her as well, until Tom caught your eyes from farther behind her. “Y/N?” he questioned, but excitedly, as though he was happy to see you. That made his girlfriend’s lip curl into a sneer, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Oh, uh,” you started, wanting so bad to bolt, but transfixed by Tom’s smile and gentle demeanor. He was dressed, indicating that he was probably going out. And from the progress they both had on their outfits, you could guess it was possible they were going on a lunch date.

You felt foolish, your heart drooping in your chest as you resigned yourself to stick with the plan. What did you expect, that his girlfriend would just magically be missing every time you came into his apartment? A dumb idea, one fueled by your fluttering heart, but also by your jealous mind.

“I accidentally took this last time I was here. Sorry,” you said, holding the cup out to the girl. She dropped her eyes to the cup, but made no moves to take it from you. Her hands stayed rooted on the door, and you felt like you could melt under her scrutinizing gaze.

Tom saved you, however, taking the cup from your hands with care, wrapping his hand around it. Your hands brushed each other’s, and your fingertips felt so warm and fiery, igniting your nerves in flames. You looked up to send him a smile, but you caught the look his girlfriend gave you.

Her blue eyes startled you, being so wide and so angry at the same time. Her perfect nails seemed to dent into the metal door as she gripped it with all her might. Her posture was rigid, feet set apart in a fighting stance. You thought her unoccupied hand was going to reach out and punch your teeth out.

The silent threat made you jump, the ware slipping from your fingers and smashing to the floor before you had time to react. You could only pull your feet away and watch in horror as it fell on its handle, small shards of grey porcelain scattering across the floor.

You want to cry, curl up beside the shards and be swept away into a dust bin, you’re so mortified. To your right, she’s smiling a little, resting her hand on Tom’s shoulder as she proceeds to ask if he’s okay. She tiptoes to look over his shoulder, as though she wasn’t standing feet away when it happened. Milking the moment, you catch the glint in her eyes when she rubs his back, saying that she’ll get a broom.

Tom nods, saying a faint, “okay babe,” before he’s taken aback by the kiss she plants on his cheek. You note the pink mark it’s left, a small, but powerful reminder that he’s taken, and that no matter how shy and polite and cute and neighborly you are, there’s nothing you can do about it.

She casts a look that is part sinister and part mocking over her shoulder, but it turns into surprise as the door closes, Tom stepping out into the hall. He’s got his hands behind his back as the door clicks shut, leaving the two of you in the hall.

“Sorry about that, I don’t know how that happened.” He rubs the back of his neck now, as if he’s really considering the idea that he might have done this.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who broke it, I should be cleaning it up, I,” your head is fixed towards the ground, unable to meet his gaze. You really just want to walk away, but it was hard, with him so close to you, his height and yours almost the same. There’s no need for tilted heads when every time you look up, it’s just his eyes on yours, and it makes you so frustrated.

“I’m really sorry about this, I promise I’ll get you another one.” In some really nice universe, this is the part where Tom chuckles and says “You don’t have to do that. Just go on a date with me and we’re even.”

But this is not a nice universe. It’s not even close. This universe is horrible and cruel, laughing at your pitiful crush on a taken British boy and your shitty attempts at being his friend.

This universe sucks, so you leave him with that half assed promise and run down the stairs, not looking back as he calls your name.


 No. 3: the incident where you hear something you shouldn’t have (but always wanted to know)

It’s late, and probably your own fault that you’re miserable and at home and have to watch a fucking slideshow about Roswell, New Mexico. The lights are mostly off in your apartment, save for three little hanging lights above your kitchen counter. One sole bottle of Heineken is untouched, probably warm since your friend left over two hours ago for her date.

And now, with a pounding headache and an impossibly bad mood, you felt your limit snap as loud shouts and a bumping bass sounded from Tom’s apartment. He wasn’t a rowdy guy, and his girlfriend didn’t seem like the type to annoy the neighbors at ten pm, but you could think of a certain blonde that would.  

It had been weeks after ‘the breaking of the mug’, weeks of building back the confidence to look Tom in the eyes, and weeks of him being crazy nice to you. He was always asking you to come over, wanting to make up for how bad your last encounter was. Eventually you both settled back into a comfortable friendship, but that only persisted as long as his girlfriend wasn’t around.

After another week of that arrangement, you felt guilty, almost as though you were doing something forbidden. You remembered the shame and palpable tension in the room that occurred every time she came home to find the two (or three, there was no way she could get rid of Harrison) inside. Almost any conversation would drop, and you would leave, giving him a curt goodbye.

It was dumb, it was strenuous and it was so unnecessary. But it felt exciting.

You swallowed that excitement down fast, knowing that there was nothing between you two. You were neighbors, and finally friends; you weren’t going to ruin it because of your unrequited crush on him.

The pounding in your head increased when you heard with clarity and annoyance the repetitive yell of shots. The song seemed to shake your entire apartment and you growled, stomping over and banging on Tom’s door with your fist.

“Hey! It’s a fucking Thursday night!” you yelled, despite your normal timid manner. You seriously just wanted to fall straight asleep and head to work tomorrow and make a final decision on this location. You were losing time and patience and the capacity to care when a face split into a wide grin upon seeing you at the door.

“Hey hey, Y/N!” Harrison’s blue eyes were unfocused and shiny, his smile too big for his face. He stumbled to grab your arm, his grip much tighter as he used all his strength to pull you in.

“Guys, look who I found!” The word “guys” had you at unease, but you surveyed the people around you carefully. You would know the Spider-Man cast anywhere, and Tom’s apartment was definitely a place where you’d seen them the most.

Tony and Jacob both had on tilted ball caps, and when Tony ran to hug you it fell off. “Oh thank god you’re hear Y/N!” he hiccuped, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Our man Tom has something to tell you.”

The room dissolved into giggles. It sounded like a first grade classroom, their laughter so innocent and playful. The only boy who didn’t seem to be partaking in the fun was Tom, his lips set in a pout as he shoved Jacob weakly.

“Knock it off, boys,” he told them his voice sharp against theirs. He didn’t appear to be as drunk as they were, but the goofy grin that followed proved otherwise.

After another round of laughter, you tried to shrug Tony away from you, but he was heavier without full control over his body. You felt uncomfortable being around four drunk men, who were all stronger than you. Despite knowing that they meant well, the entire situation read badly.

“Tony, please get off me,” you mumbled, which seemed to earn his attention. He stood up straight, raising his arm up mechanically. You took a step back, holding your arms to make yourself small. “Guys, I get that you’re having fun, but I have work to finish, so can you-“

“You’re a location scout, right?” Jacob asks in the moment of lucidity. You nod, watching warily as Jacob stands, holding his hand out to you.

“Jacob Batalon, best actor in this room. If you’re ever in a pinch for actors, you know where to find me.”

“Jacob,” you said slowly, your handshake becoming too long. “We’ve met before.”

“Best actor in the room? Tom has a fucking BAFTA!” Harrison argued over the music, but you both paid no mind to him.

“Uh, I think I’d know if I met anyone as pretty as you. At least, I think you are. I can’t really see, but you’re Y/N, right?”

“Jacob,” you sighed, exasperated. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you were halfway to launching into an explanation before he cut you off.

“Tom’s been going off about this Y/N girl. She lives across the street or something. I’m like, Tom, dude, amigo. How do you know if she’s pretty if she’s all the way over there?” He pointed out the window and you frowned, wondering just what in the world he was on about.

“Jacob I know you! I live next door.” He snapped his fingers loudly, looking back at Tony with wide eyes.

“Tony! It’s the girl, the one Tom mmhmm-“ Harrison covered Jacob’s mouth with his hands, trying to sit him back down. You raised a brow, looking between the four of them before sighing.

“Clearly I’m not getting anything through to you, so I’ll just do it myself.” You huffed, turning to what you believed was the source of the booming music. A stack of black rectangular sound systems sat on a shelf below Tom’s T.V, each of them appearing to be on. In the background, yelling had ensued, with Jacob’s mouth finally free of Harrison’s grip. You paid no mind as you decided to simply turn the volume down. You twisted the dial a little too far, making the music so quiet, that their shouts became clearer.

“Why the hell not! You’re not going to have any other chance!”

“Your girlfriend dumped you, now is the perfect time to tell her!”

“And say what? ‘Hey Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since the day we met’?”

It kept going, not even missing a beat as the four boys started piling shout after shout on top of the others. You, however, had your hands over your mouth, slowly rising to stand up. Your mind tried to process the words in the order you heard them in, making sure it matched what you thought. Your heart felt like it would leap from your chest, knees knocking as you struggled to understand.

Tom liked you. He had since the day you met. And he didn’t plan on telling you.

It was news to you that his girlfriend was no more, but even bigger than that was the idea that each of his friends already knew that he was in love with you. That sentiment seemed like common knowledge, considering its blunt outburst hadn’t shocked anyone to silence.

Suddenly Harrison’s cheeky winks and Tom’s bright smiles seemed more than just coincidences. You wanted to run up to Tom and tell him that you felt the same way, that he meant more to you than just a neighbor or a friend. You felt your heart clench as you realized that those words were never meant to be presented like this. You weren’t supposed to know.

In some nice universe Tom would tell you over another shared mug of coffee, or an a first date somewhere sweet and thoughtful. In some nice universe you could kiss him for saying that, and he’d kiss you back.

But this was not some nice universe, and this shit always happened. You let yourself out, sliding back against the cold metal door and letting out a sob that had been working its way through your chest.

Perhaps that nice universe would only ever be a daydream


No. 4: the incident where the tables have turned

Not but two days after the drunken episode, you walked up the stairs to find Tom, sitting outside his apartment like a lost puppy. He bounced his phone on one knee, the other keeping his forehead up as he scrolled through his phone. After a moment he locked it, turning his head to see you, dazed and confused.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his loud voice reminding you of Thursday night, and the deflated way he had yelled your name, saying that he was in love with you. You were starting to believe it; you could see his eyes light up whenever they found you, a small but genuine smile tilting his lips upward. For someone who had just lost a significant other, Tom seemed pretty much in one piece.

Maybe because you were the one seeing him.

Nevertheless, you raised an eyebrow in silent question, to which Tom sheepishly smiled. “I seem to have locked myself out of my own apartment,” he told you, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. He was well cleaned up, considering the last time you’d seen him he was smashed beyond compare.

Before you even had the thought of stopping, you blurted, “Doesn’t your girlfriend have a key?”

It was like kicking a puppy; a small, adorable little puppy that only wanted your attention for half a second. The mirth drained out of his face and his eyes quickly dropped to the floor. His hands swung aimlessly by his side. You wanted to take it back, say you were sorry or that you forgot, but you weren’t even supposed to know in the first place.

“Alice and I broke up,” he sighed, and all you could think was ‘So her name was Alice.’

You tried to morph your face into sympathy and surprise, but you weren’t sure how well you pulled it off. “Oh, shit Tom, I’m sorry,” you expressed, wanting to reach out and touch his shoulder, but withholding yourself. Pretending you didn’t know about his feelings for you was so difficult, and you weren’t sure why. It wasn’t like you to be flirty or drop hints, but for some reason that was all you wanted to do: wrap your arms around him, tell him he’d be fine, and remind him that you were next door if he needed you.

In some nice universe that would work, but this wasn’t time or place.

“My spare key is with Harrison, surprise surprise,” Tom joked, which you smiled at.

“You’re never going to see that key again,” you laughed, bringing back a sliver of a smile to the man’s face. He looked better with it, you thought, doing nothing for the butterflies in your stomach. Your laughter calmed down enough for you to shrug. “You can come stay at my place until he gets here, if you don’t have anything to do.”

His eyes widened, but he hid it by raising his left brow. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Considering it returning the favor. Besides, I’m always in your apartment. We need a change of scenery.” You unlocked your door, coming into your apartment with tense shoulders. Tom had never been in here before, and there was a reason for that. His presence in your apartment would gradually become less and less strange, making him just a part of your home than the couch or the curtains. You didn’t want him to be so familiar that it seemed like he belonged here, because he didn’t. He belonged in his nice white apartment, far away from whatever you had going on here.

There wasn’t much. You weren’t a minimalist, but you preferred less pillows and decorations than actual furniture. The colors were mostly neutral blues and greys, with red here or there. Along the walls were huge posters of cities you’d visited for work. Ashville, Slab City, Roswell, and other obscure towns were littered across your living room, and when you looked back you noticed Tom was staring at all of them.

“You’ve been to all these places?” he inquired, awe lacing his voice. You were shocked by his curiosity, considering he travelled all the time for his job. His face was fixed on the posters, before catching the little framed photos around the bookshelves. “Holy shit, is that you?”

He had the frame in his hand now, and judging from it, you were sure he was indulging himself in staring at a truly mortifying high school photo of yours. “Who are these people?” he pointed, and you grimaced.

“High school friends, if you couldn’t tell by our bad fashion choices,” you groaned, coming up beside him and studying the picture. You were in the middle, as you often were in group photos because everyone was taller than you. It didn’t particularly matter in this instance; you were squatting down, your hands clasped as if in prayer, staring down the camera with a smirk. Above you, four of your friends had lifted up the shortest girl in your group, perching her on their shoulders. It looked like a dysfunctional human pyramid.

“I don’t think I have a picture of me and my mates half as cool as this,” Tom remarked, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think that’s cool? I think we were more crazy than cool,” you spoke wistfully, setting the picture back down. “I’m not even sure why I keep that around. It doesn’t really fit in with this whole thing,” you gestured wildly, pointing at the dozens of colorful photos. Tom’s eyes landed wherever your finger pointed, until the rested back on you.

“Which one of these is your favorite?” he asked, turning in a circle to view every landscape. You put a finger to your lips, eyeing each one carefully, until you landed on one filled with green and purple.

“I took this in Glasgow, about four years ago,” you stated, standing beside a quite large picture of a sprawling field of bluebells. “First time scouting overseas, and a studio needed pictures of old woods to use as concept art. I was with a senior photographer on this one, but he let me take the shots they eventually used.” You glanced up at the photo in reverence, before looking over to Tom.

His face expressed pure adoration, and you found that his eyes rested more so on you than the photo. He seemed to be in a trance, only snapped out of the daze a minute after you’d stopped talking. He tried to shake the grin off, but it was too late. So he went with it, smiling even wider.

“Wow. I’ve been to Scotland before, and I knew it was beautiful. But that?” he threw his hands down and you laughed at his gesture. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“You just have to know where to look. I know I never would have found this place if David wasn’t so familiar with Glasgow,” you told him, heading into the kitchen for drinks. “Next time, take someone who knows what to look for.”

“Maybe I should take you.” It was supposed to be mumbled under his breath, just a wish he kept to himself, but he let his guard down. You heard him, freezing as you stuck your head into the fridge, thanking the heavens that you had a cover for your burning face. You wanted to turn around and tell him yes; absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent were you on board with going anywhere with him. You wanted to joke that you’d pack your luggage right then and there, that between two seasoned travelers like you, there was sure to be a discount somewhere.

But all you could do was force down the thoughts, grabbing two cokes from the fridge before pressing them to your face. You turned to Tom and smiled, a restrained, glowing thing that startled him, for he hesitantly stepped towards you.

“Maybe you should. Glasgow is one of my favorite places. I’d be happy to show you around.” You hoped you didn’t come off as anything other than friendly, but knowing the situation you were both in, there was no telling his response.

Tom just blinked, his face like a deer in headlights. Suddenly his face was tinted in pick and he smiled, looking down at his shoes bashfully. “I don’t know when we’d ever do it,” he commented, rooting you two back in the reality, the place where you both had jobs to do and obligations to others. But it had been nice, dreaming of Scotland with Tom. Perhaps it would come true.

There was a calm silence that settled in between the conversation, which was ripped away when Tom’s cell rang. He picked it up with reluctance, before making a face at the id. “Haz you better be downstairs or else I’m hanging up.” There was a bit of yelling on the other side, Harrison’s voice distorted by the traffic outside. Tom listened for a moment more before nodded, cutting his eyes over to you.

“Yeah, you can just open yourself, you’re always there anyways,” he quipped, ending the line before sighing. “Sorry, that was Haz, he’s here with my key.” Every word he said sounded breathless, a string of words in an almost incomprehensible British accent and an apology mixed in somewhere. You smiled, before jumping up.

“Oh! Before I forget,” you babbled, reaching into a packed kitchen cabinet for something. You stood on the tips of your toes, reaching for a turned handle before it landed gracefully in your palm. You smiled, handing it over to the dumbfounded man over the counter.

“What’s this?” he asked, turning over the red and blue designed cup. “Is this for me?”

“Yeah! I told you I was going to get you a new mug, I didn’t say what it would look like though.” You bit your lip, wondering if a Spider-Man mug was really the way to go in this situation. In addition to playing the wen head, you knew he had an affinity for the character as well, hoping the combined coincidences would lead him to like it.

He pressed it into his palms, turning it over in the daintiest of ways. He clutched it tight, as though he might break it from just breathing on it. When he picked his head up, you noted the watery glimmer in his brown eyes, which he tried his hardest to blink back. There were so many small things about Tom that made your heart flutter, but you didn’t have time to study them all.

“Thank you,” his small voice took you from your thoughts. “That was really sweet of you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” you relied firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And I couldn’t live with myself if I never replaced it. Seriously, take it,” you told him, seeing as he was unwilling to leave with it. He stared at it a little while longer before he jolted, a buzzing sounding from his back pocket.

“Harrison’s here, I should, uh,” He stammered out, slowly taking some steps back. You nodded, giving him a slight wave and then headed back to the kitchen. You didn’t look up until you heard the door open, and then click shut, the air in your apartment much colder than it had been.

You stared around, wondering if you could find differences in your home now that Tom had been inside it. Your old theory was clearly correct, because your place had never felt so lonely and empty since you’d moved in. With a frown, you stared at the picture of Glasgow, wondering if in some other time and place, it was taken by you and Tom.


No.5: the incident where everything becomes clear

You actually burst into his apartment, a loud banging noise that sounds like it belongs in a movie. You’re too dramatic, and for reasons only you can understand.

Two heads turn, almost in sync. Blue eyes stare your form up and down, a quirk in his brows, while Tom just screams “Y/N!” It’s more of an exclamation that a question, which prompts Harrison to ask the obvious.

“What are you doing?” It’s so posh coming from him, the accent highlighting the annoyance in his voice. Or maybe it’s confusion, because he seems baffled not only by your presence, but by your urgency.

Tom doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got wide, shining eyes, and a posture that’s halfway out of the chair he was sitting in. He crosses the length between you two in an instant, throwing you off for a second before you regained proper footing.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, staring you down with those concerned brown hues of his. You wanted to take his face in your hands, and reveal your purpose for being here in the first place.

You were out of breath, from both being so close to him, and from running up three flights of stairs. After getting started on a scouting job earlier this week, you requested half the day off to start finalizing your travel plans. Within the next week you’d be flying into Tokyo and Hong Kong for a few days with Shanghai as a backup plan in case you didn’t get the shots you wanted.

You had been so psyched to start packing and start sharing about your trip, when you came across a moving truck in front of your complex. And lo and behold, you caught the sight of Alice, her arms full of those yellow throw pillows you had seen in his apartment all those weeks ago. Her blue eyes scanned the street until they came to rest on you, shouldering a hand bag that probably cost less than her foundation.

Her eyes turned to steel, lips curved in the most menacing grimace you’d ever seen. Her eyes appeared watery as you came closer, the grimace turning into a full-blown snarl the longer you stayed in her vicinity.

You practcally ran away, heart pounding out of fear. It wasn’t that Alice was mean or nasty towards you; it was that you could understand why she didn’t like you. You didn’t know the specifics of their breakup, but if you could guess, you figured Tom’s affection towards you might have played a factor in it.

The guilt burned your chest, but there was something else there you didn’t understand, something that led you to Tom’s unlocked door. In the awkward silence between you two, you wondered why it was unlocked, and why he didn’t seem to question why you were here. The longer he stared at you, the more your fingers itched, and the more you yearned to touch him.

So you pulled him out of the apartment, his feet tripping over the threshold as the door closed behind him. You caught a glimpse of Harrison’s face, blue eyes shining with mirth before he winked, clicking it shut. Tom turned his head to look back, but you grabbed his cheeks, making him face you.

He opened his mouth to ask something, but the question was caught it his throat. Your lips were suddenly on his, and he shifted closer to you, like it was an instinct. Like he got kissed by breathless girls outside his apartment on a daily basis.

His arms wrapped around your waist, before coiling tightly, his nails digging into your jacket. Your hands left his cheeks, instead falling to the nape of his neck, where you brushed small curls of hair with your knuckles. Everything about kissing Tom felt like fitting into a jigsaw puzzle; you knew exactly where everything went. From your hands to your chest to your lips, every part of you felt in place.

Tom eyes opened as he pulled back, gazing at you like he would a star in the sky. “Why did you do that?” His nearly inaudible voice was shaky, his hands running up and down your sides. He tried to still himself, but you could feel the skittish energy he was trying hard to contain.

You wound your arms around his neck, pressing yourself closer to him. “I don’t actually know,” you told him seriously, a smile in your lips.

He tried to roll his eyes, but he too was smiling at you. “You just did it, because? Just because you could?”

“Because I’ve wanted to for a long time. Because you accidently said last Thursday that you were in love with me. And because I’m in love with you too.”

Tom’s arms dropped and he balked, watching you with a gaping mouth. “You heard that? You heard me say that?” he reiterated, looking you in the eye. When you nodded he groaned, placing his head in his hands. He refused to look at you when you coaxed him out of his shame.

“I can’t believe you knew that,” he muttered, his face turning redder by the second. You tiptoed up and kissed the crown of his head, causing him to peek at you through his fingers.

“I’m sorry you’re embarrassed, but if I didn’t know I’d never have the guts to kiss you,” you compromised, pulling his hands away from his face. “C’mon, this situation isn’t all bad.”

“It’s not bad at all, really,” he sighed, a content smile gracing his lips. “I mean, you did say you were in love with me too, right?”

“Do kisses not mean anything to you Brits? Is that just like, a thing you guys do?” You poked fun at him, earning another small peck on your lips to shut you up. You smiled and laughed, making it messy and causing his lips to end up short squish against your cheek. He rolled with it though, smothering your face with tiny little pecks, squeezing you tight in his arms.

From somewhere in the apartment, Harrison screamed “Finally!”

“Platonic” Bed-sharing: A Snowbaz Fic

In which there is much Snowbaz fluff. 

Disclaimer: All characters and locations belong to Rainbow Rowell!


“Snow. No”

“Snow yes!”

Simon Snow is a complete nitwit. Baz thought.

The two boys were at a standoff. Baz always knew that Simon was plagued with nightmares. Some nights the sound of the curly-haired angel of a boy would keep him up until faint streaks of sunlight drifted through their bedroom door. He had never gone off in his sleep though. This was certainly new.

“Please Baz! My spine is too fucking boney to sleep on the ground. Do you want me to be miserable all night?” He was pleading now, his blue eyes wide, accentuating his freckles.

He was standing there in their chamber looking like an innocent child in a too-tall body. He was hugging a spare blankets and a pillow to his chest. His lanky, skinny limbs looked even skinnier in his baggy Watford pajamas. All his scone eating hadn’t done anything to increase his weight. Must be the pressure of seventh year getting to him.

“As a matter of fact, yes I do want that.” Yes, get bruises all over your perfect back you idiot. That’s what you get for being so attractive.

“If you don’t share your bed I’ll make sure you’re miserable all night too!”

It was a measly threat to Baz. He was already miserable enough every night to have the Mage’s Heir tormenting him through his presence every day and night. He rolled his eyes and smoothed out a single wrinkle in his bedsheets.

“Don’t ignore me! It’s just for one night. I won’t even touch you, I promise.”

Baz fluffed up his pillow. He could physically feel Simon’s glares.

“Come on man! S’not my fault Watford doesn’t have any spare beds lying around!” There was an intoxicating electric tingle to the air. Simon was getting too worked up about this. “If I have to sleep on the ground because of you I will go off on your bed and we’ll both be cold and sore from sleeping on the fucking stone floor.”

That was certainly a threat Simon could get away with doing, despite the anathema. Damn him. Baz thought.

“Okay. Fucking fine!” It came out more harshly than Baz intended.

Simon took a step back, the threads of his magic retreating immediately. It was certainly frightening how closely tied Simon’s magic was to his emotions.

“Thanks. I promise. This is just for tonight. I’ll build a spare bed myself if it means I don’t have to sleep with you.”

Baz snorted. Simon. Building something. Now that would be something. He sighed in annoyance as he realized sharing a bed with Simon would make it extremely difficult to sneak of to drink tonight.

“I’m going to change into my nightclothes. Make yourself at home, Snow.” He said sarcasm dripping from his voice like water from a leaky faucet.

Simon nodded. He looked exhausted.

Baz went to change his clothes in the bathroom. He stared at his own grey eyes in the mirror. His pupils were dilated and if he had more blood in him, he would probably would look flushed. He felt a surge of nervousness and anticipation.

Sharing a bed with Simon Snow. Simon fucking Snow. How on bloody earth am I supposed to not kiss the moles on his neck if he is bloody next to me?

This would certainly be a long night.

Emerging from the bathroom, Baz saw Simon fixing up a sheet to work as a divider in the middle of their already small twin bed.

“What the fuck are you doing Snow?” Baz asked incredulously.

“I thought it’d be more comfortable if there was a like… physical barrier between us.”

“Whatever floats your boat you nitwit.”

Baz carefully folded his Watford sweater, placing it in a drawer, and hung up his trousers. Then he stood by his bed, eyeing a reclining Simon.

“I promise I won’t bite or go off on you tonight Baz. And don’t even think about doing anything to me. Anathema, remember.”

Baz rolled his eyes and climbed into bed. He laid on his side, facing away from the boy he wanted to kiss ever since they met. Simon had already turned out the light. It was just the two of them now. Lying side by side. Lit by moonlight.

This would be incredibly romantic if were an entirely different pair of boys. And both gay.  Baz thought.

He heard Simon sigh. He could feel heat radiating of him in waves. He was so hot. Baz didn’t understand why Simon even bothered to use a blanket. He was already a walking furnace. In more ways than one. Baz swallowed, bit his tongue and did his best to repress the urge to turn and kiss the living hell out of Simon.

Moments passed in silence. Simon’s breath faded into a rhythm. But it wasn’t how he sounded when he was sleeping. More like he was relaxed.

Baz was not relaxed. It felt like every atom of his undead existence was on edge. He was going to have to spend at least eight hours lying like this with the boy he loved and wanted most lying next to him. This was all a terrible mistake.

A gentle touch and a whispered “Baz!” made his entire body flinch. The hand immediately retreated and Baz immediately wished it back.

“Blimey Snow! What the fuck do you want?” He turned to look at the boy.

It was a mistake.

Simon looked ethereal. His eyes were soft and tired. His bronze hair was silver and shone under the starlight. His lips. Crowley his lips looked devourable.

Baz swore he felt his vampire heart have a seizure in his chest. He was tingling all over. This was a mistake. He should just go stalk the Watford grounds and sleep under a tree or some shit. Even a cold Autumn night spent outside would be better than this infernal torture.

“Baz. Why are we like this?”

“Like what, idiot?” Baz spat a bit.

The bead of saliva landed on Snow’s pillow. Baz wished it had landed on Simon’s face. Then he wished he hadn’t thought that.

“Why do we hate each other?”

Baz sighed in exasperation. But some force he wasn’t entirely in control of made him turn completely onto his side and face Snow full-on.

“I don’t know! Maybe my parents hate your adopted father because he stole all that was good from our family?” Baz’s words raised in volume. 

He was getting annoyed.

Annoyed that Simon looked so calm. Annoyed that they could kiss right that moment Annoyed they weren’t kissing. Annoyed that it was even a possibility in his mind. He wanted to glare at Simon. But he was so tired. And thirsty.

This was a mistake.

Simon was silent for a moment. He seemed to be studying the wall behind Baz. Then he was studying Baz’s face and time seemed to stop.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot, Baz. None of this stupid rivalry makes any sense!”

“Welcome to the real world.”

“Sure. But right now. I’m scared.” Simon’s voice was getting soft and small.

He was so small and pale and delicate in that moment. Baz felt an insuppressible need to protect him. It made his heart feel like it could burst out of his chest and fly away.

“Scared?” Baz found his voice was getting softer now too.

Why. Why? He needed more control than this. Everything that was expect from him wasn’t what he really wanted. He had to stop his feelings. But he couldn’t. He had made a terrible mistake.

“I’m scared of the Humdrum. Of losing the people I care about. Penny. The Mage. Agatha. You.”

Baz coughed in suprise. Not a sarcastic cough. A genuine “what-the-fuckity-fuck” cough.

“I’m scared of sleeping tonight because I don’t want to wake up and find that I’ve destroyed everything I love.” Simon looked almost like he was going to cry.

“Are you afraid you’ll go off again tonight?” Baz asked.

Simon nodded ashamedly. Baz didn’t really feel concerned that Simon could hurt him. He felt concerned that Simon was sad. They laid there in silence, staring at each other.

Then, then, Simon took the sheet that was separating them, cast it aside, and flung his arms around Baz. Baz was too shocked to react for a moment. He couldn’t exactly fathom how this moment was real. Slowly, he wrapped an arm back around him.

“S-simon?” He managed.

“Sorry.” He muttered into Baz’s shirt. “I think I just needed a hug.”

“You want a hug from your mortal enemy in a bed?”

Baz could feel Simon sigh in response. Then he drew back but not that far back.

“I don’t know.”

“Alright.”

They stared at each other. Baz knew his eyes probably looked as wide as Simon’s did. What did this all mean? What was Simon trying to accomplish through this? Did he know how Baz felt and was trying to manipulate him?

Manipulation or not, whatever Simon was doing was working.

Simon’s hand encircled his and he froze.

Physically and mentally, he froze.

Baz had so many questions. So many demands to make.

Why did Simon care about him?

Why on earth did Simon think hugging the boy who had only made him miserable would accomplish anything?

Why were they holding hands in a bed?

What the fuck was happening?

Why were they not kissing?

They should kiss.

He wanted Simon to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Simon.

“Simon?” He whispered.

“Kiss me.” Simon whispered back.

And he did.

Long Lasting Lies [p.p] (Part 2)

Originally posted by hollandstcm

Catch up here: Part 1

Title: Long Lasting Lies
Fandom: MCU/Spider-Man
Characters: Peter Parker x female!reader, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, Betty Brant, Cindy Moon, Flash Thompson
Warnings: mentions of cheating on a partner, mentions of mugging, mild swearing, one tiny mention of sex
Word Count: 3,129
Requested: This was literally requested by 70 people, I’m not even kidding.
Blurb: You, Peter Parker’s girlfriend, have noticed that Peter has distanced himself, and have caught him lying on multiple occasions. When you confront him after being saved by Spider-Man, you are unaware that his excuse is only another one of his lies.
A/N: You guys asked for it so here it is! Just a quick reminder that I live in Australia so I’m not on break and I don’t have any holidays, therefore I still won’t be updating as frequently as I wish I could :(

Disclaimer: not my gif

[Y/N] = your first name
[L/N] = your last name


You were furious with yourself. There you were, boyfriend-less for only two days and it already felt like you were falling apart. Not only had you lost your boyfriend of almost half a year, but you had also lost a best friend. And it really, really sucked. You allowed yourself to wallow for the weekend, inviting over Michelle to watch horror films. The both of you had collectively decided that romance films were only going to do more damage at that point. And everything felt normal for a while. You and Michelle were laughing over the terrible special effects in a particularly crappy film when reality hit you. Peter, the boy who you had practically been attached to at the hip, was now somebody that you would regard as an “enemy”.

The thought had destroyed you, sending you from peels of laughter into quiet sobs as Michelle paused the film and reached over to hug you. You appreciated her attempts to cheer you up, but it felt like nobody would ever cheer you up again. The pain in your chest felt constant and relentless, and you subconsciously rubbed your chest and collarbones, as if these physical actions could mend your perpetual internal suffering.

“Peter is not worth your pain, Y/N.” Michelle tried to convince you. “That guy is a real asshole for doing what he did to you. And I’m sorry that you feel the way you do right now,” she sighed and retreated from your embrace, only to look you straight in the eyes. “But no boy is worth your tears, unless they’re tears of joy.”

You mustered a smile. “Thanks, Michelle.” you recognised her efforts, and she smiled back at you, coffee-colored eyes showing that she was relieved at your reaction. “I know it’s silly to cry over Peter, especially after the way he treated me and the things he did to me,” you bit your bottom lip. “Is it stupid that I’m dreading going to school the most?” you asked her. “Seeing Peter in the hallway, in class? I sit next to him in every class that we have together, now I have to find a new seat and I’ve already mentally adjusted to the angle of the whiteboard which-“

“I think that you’re overthinking this.” Michelle interrupted. “Find a new seat. One that doesn’t have a view of the back of Peter’s head, and one where he isn’t in your periphery. It’s going to be okay, Y/N. You have me and I’m sure you have Ned, too. You’ll get through this.” you smiled a watery smile, accompanied by tears in your eyes at the sincerity in Michelle’s voice.

“Thanks, Michelle.” you said again, really meaning it this time.


“What the hell, Peter?!” Ned practically stormed into Peter Parker’s bedroom. Peter — who had been lying on his stomach with his elbows propping up his upper body, clutching a pillow tightly to his face — wiped at his face as quickly as possible before facing Ned, who shut Peter’s door loudly. “I haven’t heard from you all weekend and Michelle just told me that you broke up with Y/N?” Peter sniffled before nodding his head. “Is it true? That you cheated on her?” Ned looked so disappointed with Peter that he felt his chest tighten, tears welling in his eyes again, threatening to spill.

Keep reading

BTS Reacts: I Love You

Request: hi! i was wondering if you could do a bts reaction maybe?🙈 to their s/o hugging them from behind and whispering “i love you” with their head on his back/shoulder (it depends😹) -this is so soft😭- thank you!

Originally posted by fuckindestruction

Warning: Mentions of pregnancy

A/N: Kongnamul is Korean for “Bean Sprout”. Kongnamulguk is Korean for “Bean Sprout Soup”.

Seokjin (Jin)

You held tightly at the hem of Seokjin’s oversized tan hoodie, scrunching your nose at the tears stinging your eyes. This is stupid, you thought. It’s only going to be a month. We’ve done longer distances than this. You exhaled a sigh. Must be the pregnancy hormones.

You idly rubbed your tummy, baby bump barely noticeable, but to you, it felt like you were carrying the world. Your world. The moment you and Seokjin had waited years for, for what felt like the right time to start your family. A small smile spread across your lips, despite the still lingering tears.

Seokjin smiled politely and handed over his passport. He turned towards you, a protective arm slipping around your shoulders. “What’s the matter, Jagiya?”

You looked up to him through long lashes and pouted. “I don’t like it,” you murmered. A sad smile spread across his plump lips. “I know, Jagi.” He lifted your chin with a slim finger and you found nothing but happiness resting in his eyes. “It will only be a month. I’ll FaceTime you and little kongnamul every night, okay?”.

A giggle escaped your closed lips and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the nickname. The doctor had called you with the news while you were both out to dinner and you happened to be eating kongnamulguk, and the name just seemed to stick.

Seokjin turned away to receive his passport, thanking the woman at the desk and bowing slightly. Happiness flooded through you, staring up at him, and you were sure of nothing more in the world that this was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your days with. You snaked your arms around his slim waist and nuzzled your cheek into the back of his broad shoulders.

“I love you,” you breathed. You could feel heat burning in your cheeks and tears stinging your eyes again. You quickly wiped them away, pulling away from Seokjin’s tall frame.

He smiled shyly, a hand coming up to cover his smile. “Aish, you’re cute, (Y/N). Can’t you just stay pregnant forever if you keep acting this cute?”.

Originally posted by agustdefsoul

Yoongi (Suga)

You stretched the muscles of your neck from side to side, setting down your pen on your World Culture text book. You looked behind you from your place on Yoongi’s studio couch, sprawled out on your stomach, to Yoongi who was working diligently away on his computer. You eyes followed his side profile, from his pinched eyebrows in concentration, to the downturn of his lips, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch.

You bit your lip and glanced down to his work space, littered with his small, black leather notebook, a couple of pencils and erasers and sticky notes. You closed your text book, and adjusted your shorts, before exiting the room.

Yoongi shifted in his seat, looking back to where you had just lay, before adjusting his headphones and returning his attention to the screen.

You returned moments later, a napkin, a bottle of water and one of Yoongi’s favorite cold bottled coffees in both hands. You came up behind him, his eyes still fervently searching the screen for the solution to some unseen problem. You leaned down and gently blew at the exposed skin of the nape of his neck, smiling when little mountains of goosebumps rose to the surface.

You reached over his shoulders and placed down the napkin on his work space, setting the cold, coffee on top and the water bottle next to it. You watched as a small, appreciative smile came to life, and couldn’t help but return it. You slid the palms of your hands from the tops of his shoulders down the hills of his chest to rest lightly on his toned stomach.

“I love you,” you whispered in his ear. You watched as the small smile turned gummy, and he looked down, the blush creeping up his neck barely noticeable in the dim light

“I love you, too,” he chuckled, the low timber of his unused voice sending butterflies soaring in your chest.

Originally posted by hobipd

Hoseok (J-Hope)

You bobbed your head to the resounding base, idly scrolling through social media on your phone. You sat, perched on one of the blue dance mats, ignoring the dull ache in the base of your spine for easy companionship with Hoseok as he perfected a dance for another episode of Hope on the Street. You set your phone beside you and watched Hoseok carefully, from his controlled facial expressions, to the way his body naturally seemed to pop and lock into place where he so chose. You admired the way he could move his body so effortlessly, every carved out muscle under his control.

The song started over, and Hoseok raised both arms wide in the air, thoroughly stretching the muscles there. He made his way over to the mat you were sitting on and collapsed beside you, hair matting to his forehead, shirt sticking to him.

You scrunched your nose and smiled at him. “You stink,” you laughed. Hoseok smiled widely, an almost embarrassed laugh falling out. He puffed out his cheeks and blew out a deep breath, keeping his lips pursed for a second longer.

“Come, on.” Hoseok groaned, and made to stand up, muscles protesting against the action. “I think if I practice anymore, I’ll collapse.”

You took his outstretched hand and absently rubbed at your aching butt, as he pulled you up to your feet. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” you sighed. You watched as Hoseok began to pick up his things, aimlessly throwing them in the direction of his backpack in the corner of the room.

As he bent down to pick up his empty water bottle, you snaked your arms around his waist and rested your chin in between his shoulder blades, pushing most of your weight onto his back. “I love you,” you sighed, making him halt mid reach for his water bottle. You both stayed like that for few seconds longer, until you finished. “I just wish you would take better care of yourself.”

Hoseok turned, still in your arms, and rested both hands on your hips. He nuzzled his head into the soft crook of your neck and sighed. “I know, Jagi.”


Originally posted by aceyng

Namjoon (Rap Monster)

Namjoon typed away at his laptop, sitting precariously on top of a pillow on his lap, bottom lip worrying between his teeth. His glasses sliding slowly off his face as he looked down at the screen, you couldn’t help the adoration that flowed through your veins.

You abandoned your place beside him on the couch and made your way into the small kitchen to see about starting dinner. You rifled through your cabinets, a dismal look pinching your brow together. “Take out it is, then,” you sighed.

You made your way back into the living room, your eyes easily finding Namjoon, eyes now tracing lines in a black notebook, glasses hanging on to just the tip of his nose. You walked over to the back of the couch behind him, and rested your hands on his tense shoulders.

“Namjoon-ah,” you called softly. You received a grunt in response, clearly absorbed in his work. It wasn’t like you to bother him while working, but from the lack of movement from both of you in the last couple of hours, you were sure he hadn’t eaten properly.

You leaned down and placed your lips gently against his ear. “Look at me,” you breathed. You watched in delight as the hairs on the nape of his neck stood on end as he licked his lips and gazed at you.

You straightened up and smiled at him. “Good. Now that I have your attention.” You crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head. “You haven’t eaten much today,” you accused.

Noona, I’m fine,” he rolled his head on the back of the couch and sighed.

You fixed his glasses to fit properly on his face and leaned back down to meet your lips with his. The kiss was slow, passionate, filled with every emotion you  could imagine and all the time in the world to express them. You slid your hands down his shoulders to rest on his chest and broke the kiss, gazing at him. ”I love you, and the man I love will not work on an empty stomach.”

A low chuckled filled his lungs as he lifted head and closed his notebook. “Fine,” he whined, exaggerating the word as he rubbed the back of his neck and muttered “How do you always know how to get what you want?”

Originally posted by kookies-for-taehyung

Taehyung (V)

“Taehyung!” you exclaimed without any honorifics. “I thought you were gonna let me win!” You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest and sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair in a huff.

“Watch it, little girl,” he warned, but the threat was lost in the laugh that escaped his throat. You giggled at his attempt to be threatening, his boxy smile filling his face.

“Besides,” he continued. “How can I let you win, if you cant hit anything even with the gaurds up?” he teased.

You laughed, hand coming up to cover your mouth shyly. “I am pretty bad at this, huh?” you admitted. You looked up at the score board, your scores pitifully drastic.

Taehyung smiled at you lovingly, and you couldn’t help the heat that flooded your cheeks. You stood up and quickly crossed the distance between you two, holding your arms out to embrace him. He took you in his arms easily and you let the comforting scent of his cologne fill your nose.

“I love you,” you whispered into his chest. You felt rather than saw the chuckle that escaped his lips. He pulled you in tighter, squeezing you gently. “I love you, (Y/N).”

Originally posted by jiminiediary

Jimin

You waited patiently in line at the local coffee shop, fingers playing with the hem of your sweater to keep them from reaching out to touch Jimin. Standing only a couple feet away, you were still able to smell the faint scent of his cologne, something heady and earthy, like home.

You admired his side profile, although obscured by the black face mask and glasses he was adorning, you could recount every line and curve of his nose and lips. You smiled to yourself, thinking back to last night when your frames were so intertwined with each other, a thin layer of sweat covering the hills of your bodies, as he laced his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand idly as you sleepily tried to keep up with the conversation.

“(Y/N)?” the sweet sound of Jimin’s voice filled your ears, as he called out to you. You snapped your focus back to the man in front of you, a slight blush dusting your cheeks. “What would you like?”

Coffee. That’s right, you thought, bringing your attention to the present. You ordered your usual, and thanked Jimin quietly while he paid, eyes focused on his unoccupied hand and how you wanted to reach out and entangle his fingers with yours, to feel the smooth skin of his hands from meticulous care. Your self control wavered.

You both thanked the cashier and made your way to the other end of the bar, waiting for your coffee. Partially obscured by the height of the bar, you took his hand in both of yours and rubbed soothing circles on the back of his hand. You knew PDA made him a little uncomfortable, but you hoped this small act was okay.

“Jimin-ah,” You looked up at him through long lashes and bit your plump bottom lip. “I love you,” you breathed.

Jimin’ s eyes crinkled and you knew he was smiling widely. A soft chuckle filled your ears as he pulled his mask down to rest at the base of his chin. “And I love you, (Y/N).”


Originally posted by jinkooks

Jungguk (Jungkook)

You sighed loudly, more loudly than was necessary, really, but you didn’t care. Jungguk had been staring at a screen for the last four hours and you were bored to tears. You had exhausted every form of social media you had, now resorting to just googling funny pictures.

You tossed your phone behind the couch, when just the sight of the lit up screen started to make you a bit cross eyed. You sat up cross-legged in the middle of the couch, eyeing the back of Jungguk’s head. He was in need of a haircut, the small hairs on the nape of his neck growing out, messing up the look of his undercut. Your fingers itched to run through his soft locks, but pushed down the urge.

You rested your head on the back of the couch and held tightly the pillow in your arms. You sighed loudly again, hoping Jungguk would take notice, but he only swore loudly at the T.V screen, fists tightening around the controller in his hands. You scrunched your nose in frustration and licked your lips.

Your eyes fell on the extra couch pillow at the end of sofa, and you quickly glanced back to Jungguk. You smiled and bit your lip, quickly snatching it by your side. You waited patiently until you considered he was at a good stopping point before you initiated your attack, both couch pillows hitting him square in the back of the head.

Jungguk flinched, immediately pausing the game and turned around, an accusatory glare aimed in your direction. A smile broke out on your face, biting your lip again to control the nerves that were suddenly pouring through you. You watched as the beginnings of a bunny-toothed smile appeared on his lips, and you poised yourself to run like a madman through the house, hoping he would take the bait and chase you.

Your legs sprung out from under you as you attempted to jump over the side of the couch, but Jungguk somehow was able to cross the five foot gap between you two and grab hold of your ankle, gently but firmly pulling you back down to the couch and sliding you towards him. You landed with an oof and felt the couch give to the weight of him, as he flipped you over onto your back, his body hovering over yours.

Your breath caught, and you tried to swallow, your throat too dry. You caught a glimpse of mischief in his doe-like eyes and immediately struggled to get away from him, hands trying fruitlessly to push his face away.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he muttered, words garbled from the weight of your hands pushing his cheek away. Jungguk pulled your hands away easily with one of his, the other releasing a vicious tickle ambush on your side and under your arms.

You laughed loudly, unable to control your wide smile. “NO. No, pleas- I’m sorry, OKAY?” you tried, your laughter making it hard to speak.

Jungguk laughed, bunny teeth cutely poking through, and rested his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “I love you.” The words pushed through your lips before you could hold them back. You watched, wide-eyed, as every emotion was easily recognized in Jungguk’s expressive orbs. You watched his lips part, as he searched your face for something you weren’t quite sure of. A slight blush appeared across his cheeks, finding the answer in your eyes.

“Yeah,” Jungguk breathed, burrowing his nose in the crook of your neck. “I…I love you, too.”

“Lost My Heart to You” (Part One)

Summary: (Modern-Day AU) Bucky lost his heart to you. And every time you two meet, he tries to seek it back. -Mini Darbble Series

Word Count: 1,522 (okay not exactly a drabble)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warning: none, just some floof

A/N: sorry for throwing another series your way. but i was just in the mood of writing some floof, since i never write enough floof. i hope you like it! as always, leave me some nice words to read! aslo, maybe drabble for me might be between 500-1,5k words. :P

ily x.

“Lost My Heart to You” Masterlist | Main Masterlist


the one with the favorite spot

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Her

Her

 

Hey guys, so this is a fluffy one which I may or may not turn into a series, give a read and tell ya girl what you think.

 

Warnings: None, fluff, Harry being a lil cutie pie angel muffin, he likes a girl, that girl is you if you are short and brown like me (very short, very brown)

Character pairings: Reader/Dickheadish guy, Reader/Harry Styles

Harry Styles was not one to be flustered by people who weren’t famous or his mother. His mother scolding him still made him feel tiny, to this very day. Then he met her.

She was quite the multi-tasker. She painted, wrote stories, sang and was a nurse.

“I’m a nurse part time, steady income” she explained when he asked why all the jobs.

“I like to paint, it’s relaxing” she said when he asked about why she constantly had splotches of green and red and white and orange on her wrists.

“Writing is my salvation” she confessed when they sat up on the roof top of Niall’s party.

“I have a musical family, everyone does something. Plays something or sings” she said randomly.

She was cute too. A little shy, not at all introverted, but she could be shy, despite the fact she was constantly laughing or making filthy jokes at someone else’s expense or being the loudest person, he had ever met. And he was in a boyband for some time.

At first glance, she wasn’t his type physically. Yes, physically. He was only a man after all.

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Supertuned

Ok, so this is a imagine that I’ve had in my head for a while now. Enjoy, My Lovelies. xx

Tag list: @hamartiamacguffin @illisea @thegreatficmaster @lovemesomepie85 @torn-and-frayed

If you want me to add you to my tag list, shoot me through a message and let me know. 

Dean looked up as the Y/C/H hunter walked into the viewing room. Her hair fell loosely around her face, the soft Hollywood curls framing it perfectly. His eyes wandered over her body, the way her jeans hugged her arse perfectly, the black tank she wore that was slightly see through, the deep red bra underneath that showed off some of her best assets. Her silver cross hung down over the top of her breasts, the diamonds shining in the light. Her heels clicked on the polished concrete floor, he glanced down at the ankle boots, that was a new looked. The look was Y/N all over, but a sexed up Y/N. He frowned at the duffels in her hand.

‘Hunt?’

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It’s a Start

Prompt request: Can I request one where Tony Stark has a little sister who’s very sweet to people and believes in second chances? Loki and Bucky are still trying to adjust to being at the tower but she goes out of her way to show them kindness and include them in things. They become an inseparable trio. It annoys Tony so she gets her guys to tease him with her cause he’s ‘jealous he isn’t allowed in their club

Characters: Tony Stark, Loki, Bucky, Reader, Steve Rogers, Sam WIlson

Warnings: cursing, rude comments, Tony’s kind of a jerk

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long to write! It was definitely one of the more complex stories, so I wanted to make sure I got it right (hopefully I did). This is my first Loki fanfic, so feedback is always appreciated! Requests and tags are open! As always, thanks for reading!


You plopped your bags on the tiled kitchen floor and sighed as you stretched your sore arm muscles. “Thanks again for letting me stay here, Tony,” you said, turning around to face your brother.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he replied, placing your last two bags on the floor. He kissed your forehead and wrapped you up in a hug. “You’re always welcome here.”  

You were living in the Avengers Tower for the summer with your older brother, Tony Stark. Okay, so he wasn’t actually your biological brother. In fact, he wasn’t even a brother by marriage. You were Pepper’s seventeen year-old sister, and even though she and Tony broke up more than a year ago, he never stopped loving you like his own sibling. He would still cheer you on at your soccer games, take you to the movies, and just spend time with you. You had been living with Pepper to claim residency in New York to get a cheaper tuition rate at your first-choice college. When Pepper got called away on a job for the summer, it made sense that you would stay with Tony.

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2

Trapped - Dean Winchester

Summary ;; part I. demon!dean decides that he doesn’t like dean’s long term girlfriend, y/n, and makes a harsh attempt to get rid of her for good.

A/n ;; gifs are not mine !!

Warnings ;; shit tons of violence, near death of reader, some swearing, angsty angst, season ten spoilers

Words ;; 3.3k

Published ;; 8th april, ‘17

Masterlist

Stay safe + ily🍁


When you sleepily awoke late at night to the sound of a deep growl and exasperated shouts emitting from down the hall, you pieced together that Sam had finally located Dean and brought him back home. Whether it was willingly or not, you didn’t know just yet.

He had been out searching for your boyfriend for the past week while he made you sit in the bunker in your lonesome, refusing to let you hunt alone or join him on his travels as he repeatedly told you that Dean was dangerous at the moment, as if you didn’t understand.

You sat up slowly, holding the warm duvet around your body tightly as you eyed the door, second-guessing whether this was another one of your reoccurring nightmares or reality. However, when Sam’s resentful and deep voice bellowed his brother’s name heatedly, you shoved the covers away from your frame and jumped up from your bed, nevertheless.

You jogged down the lonely hallway, any traces of sleep rapidly erased by the time you reached the dungeon and knocked on the door, your hesitancy clear. “Sam?” Your voice was hushed and seemingly small as you asked for the younger Winchester through the silence on both sides, “What’s going on?”

The sound of said door unlocking from the other side rang through your ears and you subconsciously held your breath, anxious for what you were about to witness. You expected to come face to face with the two arguing brothers, jumping down each other’s throats for what had happened previously.

And you expected to see your boyfriend of three years who you hadn’t seen since he been deprived of existence by Metatron, and you did. However, things were different. Your eyes instantly landed on Dean, who was heavily roped to a chair smack bang in the middle of a blood red devil’s trap and a cocky, sardonic smirk written on his lips. You couldn’t stop yourself from drawing in a sharp breath, your body freezing as you stared into his cold, desolate, void eyes.

“And here come’s the useless one, (Y/N)! Nice of you to join the party,” He let out a snarl, leaning forward in his seat as the harsh glare in his eyes bore into yours and you had to avert your teary ones away, your heart thumping tremendously loudly in your chest at the scene.

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I do

this is the l o n g e s t thing i’ve ever written also it’s literally a fluff extravaganza so you’re welcome. thanks to @kidinlovewithakid for helping me on this (it would actually suck ass if she didn’t) so enjoy folks! 

feedback is very much appreciated! <3 

wc; 4644



“Y/n,” you felt someone shake your body in attempt to wake you up. You groaned and turned yourself around so you were facing the opposite side of your warm bed. “Y/n you need to get up, you’re getting married today!” the voice you now identified as Mel, your best friend and maid of honour, kept vigorously shaking you until you finally sat up. You figured they must have let themselves in earlier since you had given Mel a key to the house for emergencies.

“Guys it’s so early please let me sleep,” you mumbled, wrapping yourself up in your warm comforter again in hopes they’ll give you just 5 more minutes. It may be your wedding day, but you were still beyond tired from last night’s rehearsal dinner and you were really starting to wish you and Shawn hadn’t stayed up for 4 hours after you got home. Neither of you had been able to sleep due to nerves and excitement so you decided to stay up and watch movies until you were tired.

“Where’s Shawn?” you mumbled, noticing that the other side of the bed was already empty.  You were a little disappointed that he woke up before you, even though you aren’t supposed to see each other until the ceremony you wanted to sneak in one last moment together before the chaos started.

“He left, now get up so you can go marry my brother!” Aaliyah exclaimed, jumping onto the bed and pulling the covers off you, exposing you to the cold morning air that was coming in from the window that Mel must have opened. You sat cross legged on your bed and took a look at your bridesmaids and the two mothers standing around you waiting for you to get out of the bed so you could finally go to the outdoor field where the ceremony was taking place.  You let out a shaky breath, the realization that you were actually getting married later finally sinking in.

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Heartstrings and. . .webstrings

Originally posted by guywiththeguitar

Peter parker x reader

Prompt: soulmate au where soulmates have matching tatoos


As he swung around the city Peter couldn’t feel the wind through his mask but the view was more than enough to take his mind off of it. 

He could almost see to the other side of New York.

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Roses ⚘

(part I) Summary:  Where Bucky Barnes hates you and you hate him or where Bucky Barnes only has eyes for you but you have eyes for someone else

Warnings: none I think, this is long tho ya’ll RIP.

Authors note: My third imagine you guys for the support! And thank you to my new followers for following me! Also this is divided into two parts: it starts out with your POV and then switches to Bucky’s


The kitchen is packed when you walk in. Steve had asked for the team to meet briefly, along with a few other lab techs and agents. You were one of those agents. You were recruited about two years after the avengers were reestablished and  due to your aptitude in computers you hacked for Fury and due to your aptitude in hand to hand combat and weaponry you occasionally went on missions with the Avengers team.

You walk over to the counter where you find your usual cup of coffee waiting. You pick it up and take a long sip, eyes closing in content. Looking over at Natasha you raise your mug and give her a smile. Over the course of a year you and the Black Widow had become friends and now you were fairly close. Every morning you found a cup of coffee on the counter, made exactly how only you like it, half cream and one sugar. Natasha wasn’t openly affectionate but you knew it must be her, she showed affection in subtle ways.

Steve taps a spoon against his mug and the room quiets.“I just wanted to let you all know that we’ll be going over strategy at twelve today. So be there. Oh and meet in the training room, we’ll be usin’ the climbing rope for some exercises” You give a loud sigh, forgetting for a moment how quiet the room is. You hated those ropes.

“What, scared you’ll break a nail princess?” a deep voice says.

Your face contorts as a chorus of ooohs echoes across the room. You turn towards the bane of your existence.

Bucky Barnes.

“No” you snap “But you should be worried about breaking a hip, grandpa” muffled snickers wash over the room as you fix Bucky with your best death glare. But before he can retaliate Sam pipes up.

“Can we reschedule this WWE smack down for after I’ve eaten breakfast?” 

Laughter erupts and you roll your eyes before walking over to stand next to Natasha as the agents start to disperse. 

You despised James Barnes and he hated you in turn. When you first joined the team Bucky seemed shy towards you, but then again he was shyer in general back then. But one day he made a snippy remark towards you, and you being the person you are sassed him right back, and then a rivalry was born. You  know Bucky hates you because he thinks you’re a spoiled little princess who thinks she’s too good for everyone and anything. You didn’t know why he thought that.

Okay you kinda did. 

You were the type of person who is always put together, you enjoyed pampering yourself and  dressing in cute outfits and always have your nails and hair done. You hated the fact that Bucky stereotyped you like so many people had before and vowed to work harder to prove him wrong. Your sense of style had nothing to do with your fighting abilities.

“I see you and Barnes are still at odds.” Natasha murmurs giving you a smirk.

“When will we not be?” You snort

“Hmmm… I don’t know, you know heat can often be mistaken for hate” the redhead says looking down at your coffee mug.

“Please, as if I could ever be with someone who looks down on me just because I enjoy fashion.” You take a sip of your coffee and look over to where Bucky’s sitting with Steve. He really was handsome, with that soft dark hair,strong jaw, piercing eyes and his muscular frame. He even made that metal arm work somehow. He always made the research techs blush and giggle with his compliments and made the team laugh with his sly comments. It’s really such a shame he was such a condescending jerk. You never would admit it, but it bothered you that Bucky singled you out. It reminded you too much of the times you had been the target in high school. And it’s depressing to know that nothing’s changed.

“Excuse me ladies,” You look up, only to meet eyes with the love of your life.

Steele Coulter.

Steele was truly a genetic marvel. With thick auburn hair, a body that looked like its been carved by the gods and a face adorned with a square jaw, plush lips, long lashes and unreal light brown eyes, you were salivating whenever he walked into the room. Steele steps in between you and Natasha, and grabs a muffin from the counter behind you. He shoots you and Natasha toothy smile before heading out, probably to the labs. Thankfully you were a master at concealing your emotions so no one knew about your little crush. 

“You have a little drool on your chin”

Well except for Natasha.

“Shut up,” you say, thankful no ones around to hear her

“You know I don’t think you and Steele would be the best fit.” Tasha says fixing you with her stare.

“Why not? He’s Sweet. Smart.Funny. Hot.”You tick off his qualities on your fingers

“I don’t know, I just think you’d click better with someone else.” she shrugs

“Who?” you press.

“Someone,” Natasha  says giving you her secret smile. You roll your eyes.

“Okay when you find that someone please let me know”

“Who says I haven’t already have?”

—————————————————————————————————-

You lay on the grass panting, after Steve’s climbing ‘lesson’ which ended in a long outdoor run in the heat, you’re pretty sure you’re never gonna be able to use your arms ever again. Or the rest of your body for that matter. Sam, Steele and Wanda lay next to you, with Steve, Bucky, and Natasha reclining in front of you and a couple of other agents laying down a few feet away. Sweat drips into your eyes and you wipe it away, and what looks like half of your face comes off onto the back of your hand. This is what you get for trying to make an effort this morning and putting on a little eye makeup. Of course Bucky-eagle-eyes spots this immediately and has to comment on it.

“You really put on makeup to train?” He says

“Why can’t you mind your own business for once in your damn life?” you hiss, sitting up to glare at him.

“Okay that’s my cue to leave,” Sam says. sitting up.

 “You’re just in a hurry to go and try to woo ya lady friend” Steve snickers.

“Awww Sam you have a girlfriend?” You say looking over at him.

“Not exactly,” Sam scratches the back of his neck.

“He wishes!” Steve whoops “But that dame won’t give him the time of day”

“Shut up man” Sam groans standing.

“Don’t worry,she’s just playin’ hard to get.” Bucky says, and Wanda and Steele give encouraging nods.

“I hope so,” Sam chuckles. You smile up at Sam.

“If all else fails, give her flowers, girls can’t say no to flowers” You say. Natasha barely contains a snort.

“Hey!” You defend yourself “If a guy took the time to get me flowers it would be a yes from me.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, Simon Cowell” Sam bops you on the head. You give him a mock salute in return.

“Bye guys,” He calls over his shoulder as he walks away. 

—————————————————————————————————-

That night there’s a rose left in front of your door. You pick it up and place it in a vase in your room. Then you fall onto your bed and squeal into your pillow.Sitting up on your bed you stare at the flower you almost can’t believe someone’s taken an interest in you. Your mind races with the possibilities of who the flower giver could be. And then with the not so savory possibilities that it could be a mistake or a prank. You look at the rose’s velvety petals and sigh.

God you hope its from who you think its from.

All that week every morning you find a flower left in front of your door. Towards the end of the week you can barely contain your smiles. Friday morning rolls around and there’s no flower at your door. You hope this means that the flower giver is going to reveal themselves. Midday and then evening passes and still no flower giver. Disappointed you decide to go get carryout from your favorite restaurant to distract yourself. Walking down the corridor to your room you spy a figure pacing in front of your door. When they hear your footsteps, they freeze and look up. You look at them and then look at the massive bouquet of flowers in their hands.

You gasp. 

“No.Way.”


Bucky Barnes hates you.

He hates your smart mouth.

He hates how you roll your eyes at him.

He hates how you always smell good.

Okay, correction. Bucky Barnes hates how you make him feel.

He hates how your smile makes his stomach flip. He hates how your skin always looks so soft because it make him want to touch it. He hated how when you put your hand with its ridiculous stacks of rings and powder blue nails on his arm he could feel his knees growing weak. He hated how the first time he met you he was so distracted by how gorgeous your face was and how good you smelled he couldn’t form a coherent sentence.

Bucky Barnes hates the fact that he’ll never be able you have you. 

 You’re too good, too sweet, too normal. He didn’t deserve someone like you. And besides a dame as beautiful as you wouldn’t want a freak with a metal arm. He’s resigned himself to this fact, but even still you make him weak. And he hates that most of all. So he snaps at you, undermines you, in hopes that if you would start to hate him he could hate you. But he could never hate you.

That’s why every morning he makes you a cup of coffee. Half of the cup is cream and one sugar, just like how you like it. Just so he could see your smile when you saw the mug on the counter and know that smile was because of him. 

“You know I think Y/N would be very interested in learning who’s actually making her coffee every morning” Natasha’s voice behind him makes him jump.

“Natasha. Please.” Bucky sets the mug on the counter and turns towards the redhead.

“Alright, alright” Natasha holds her hands up “Your slightly creepy secret is safe with me.” Bucky sighs and heads towards the fridge to grab some milk. Natasha’s voice follows him “Despite what you think, you’d be good for her Barnes. Even you don’t have your head so far up your ass that you can’t see that you’d be good to her.”

Bucky says nothing, and sits at a stool at the counter, making himself a bowl of oatmeal. Steve walks in, clapping Bucky on the shoulder, and then slowly the kitchen starts to fill. You walk in last, of course wearing one of your ridiculous outfits. Today it’s cutoff overalls a tight short floral top and a backwards baseball cap. Bucky hates your outfits. The make it impossible for him to concentrate. He also hates how that scientist Steele makes googly eyes at you. How most of the agents seems to. But Steele makes him bitter because he knows Steele’s everything that he’s not, and can give you everything that he can’t.

—————————————————————————————————-

Another thing Bucky hates? How you can look good with makeup smeared down your face. He can’t stop his eyes from following you as you get up to go get a late lunch with Wanda, Steele and Natasha.

A hand smacks the top of his head.

“What?” Bucky turns towards Steve.

“Make a move already you idiot.” The blonde says. 

“Shut up” Bucky groans running his hands through his hair. 

“You need to stop acting like a little boy on the playground, pulling her pigtails ‘cause you like ‘er” Steve snaps back. Bucky groans again. “And despite what you think you’re a good guy Buck. You deserve to be happy” Steve’s voice softens.

Bucky sighs,laying on his back. “I just-she just-” Bucky sighs again “I like her a lot Steve.”

Steve guffaws “You think I don’t know?”

“Ya don’t get it man-I like her almost too much,” Bucky mumbles. Steve rolls over and looks Bucky in the eyes.

“I get it. And I also get what you don’t get. How you need to make a move soon”

“Even if I was going to make a move it’s already too late.” Bucky says looking up at the sky “I-I’ve given her such a hard time I don’t think she would be interested.”

“It’s never too late. Just tell her how she makes you so nervous that you end up doing stupid things” Steve grins. “Works with the ladies every time”

“Man what do ya know about ladies?” Bucky laughs.

“Shut up.” Steve smacks Bucky “Just remember it’s never too late”

—————————————————————————————————-

“It’s never too late”

 Steve’s words echo in Bucky’s head when he heads back to his room that afternoon. And sitting on his bed, with this aching feeling of wanting clawing in his chest Bucky decides he’s going to take a chance.

He knows he can’t cold approach you and that you’d treat any compliments with suspicion. Suddenly your words echo in his head.

“If a guy took the time to get me flowers it would be a yes from me.”

So Bucky gets you flowers. That very night he goes out and gets a bouquet of roses and leaves one at your door that night. And then one the next morning.And the next and the next. The second day he notices how smiley you seem. The third day he hears you giggling with Natasha

“I can’t believe it Tasha, someone’s been leaving me flowers!”

It’s the fourth day and Bucky’s sweating. It’s Friday and he’s decided to tell you and try to ask you out. He spends three hours pumping himself up to actually do it and another hour trying to look presentable. He changes in and out of several shirts before wearing a black button down and jeans. And then he tries to tame his hair into submission. ‘Does it always look this greasy?’ Finally he picks up the massive bouquet of different flowers he bought ‘More flowers more of a chance she’ll say yes?’ and prepares to head out.

“FRIDAY?” Bucky calls out tentatively. He always felt damn strange speaking into open air.

“Yes Sergeant Barnes?” the program answers

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Ms.Y/N is currently heading up to her room from downstairs. Would you like me to contact her?”

“No, thank you FRIDAY” Bucky answers. He decides he’s going to meet you in the hall.

“You’re welcome Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky walks out of his room and he’s nervous it hits him like a wall and his palm starts to sweat. ‘I feel and look like a damn fool. I shouldn’t have gotten this invested in her.” Bucky thinks to himself. But for a moment he allows himself a future where you’ve said yes. Where you care for him even a little like the way he cares for you. And he wants that future.

Bucky hangs back in the corner before your hall for a little bit. Then he hears the click clack of your heeled shoes. He peeks around the corner. First he sees you-he always does. You look radiant, wearing a short long sleeved dress and those black heels he secretly loves on you. Then he notices the silhouette  standing in front of your door. The male silhouette. Steele’s silhouette. Bucky’s stomach drops. When he sees your face light up Bucky thinks that he would feel bitter. 

But he just feels sad.

‘I guess there is such a thing as too late’

He starts to slip away before you see him.As he turns around he hears your voice. It’s like a knife.

Your excited squeal. 

“No. Way.”


Part II -Coffee


tags: @stephie-senpai 

SILK UNDER HIS SUIT  ੭  JUNGKOOK

 

Contains : secretagent!jungkook, SMUT !  

Group : BTS  

Member : Jungkook/Jeon Jungkook

Words : + 3,5k

Summary : Jungkook could get away with pretty much anything, partly thanks to his young looks and friendly smile, but mostly because of his secret agent skills. He trained for so long, and now he was finally one of the best agents of his company, never failing to do his job, quickly and properly. Every single one of his mission is a success, until he finds out who is his new target : his childhood best friend.

Originally posted by bangmebangtanmtl

A/N : I’m thinking about making a part two, so if you think I should or just want to give a feedback or a request, everything is here ! I didn’t proof read.


Jungkook’s foot was tapping on the marble floor, patiently waiting as he observed the paitings on the wall facing him. He already saw them a hundred times, but the abstract paintings were still a mystery to him.

The boy adjusted his tie, hearing the heavy footsteps behind the door. Patiently, he watched the shadow forme on the glass door, getting up as soon as it opened.

Confident, he took a step, nodding at the tall man in a black suit before disappearing behind the door, the man closing it after him.

Jungkook knew the path by heart, quickly walking towards the desk at the end of the hallway, a hand running in his hair.
His footsteps echoed against the walls, and soon enough, he was greeted by an overly white room, the only black thing being the massive desk and the man’s suit, looking through the bay window.

Jungkook silently waited, hands in his back. He had to say that the view was amazing, the city looked tiny under his feets, he felt powerfull.
The man hummed, turning around.
It also wasn’t the first time that Jungkook saw his boss, but the man had such a strong aura, forcing his respect.

His piercing eyes carefully watched as Jungkook bowed, a warm smile decorating his face.

“Jungkook.”, greeted the man, he was the only one in the building to call him by his actual name.

“Sir.”, said Jungkook, keeping his back straight.

The man’s hand pointed towards the chair in front of his desk, silently asking Jungkook to sit.
He quickly walked towards the black chair, sitting and waiting for his boss to talk again.

“Your last mission was a success. You did well.”, said the man, sitting on his imposing chair.

Jungkook opened his mouth, before closing it again, taken back. It was really rare for his boss to compliment anyone.
“Thank you, sir.” said, Jungkook, head bowing.

The man smilled, opening a drawer before placing a brown file on his desk. With his index, he made it slide towards the boy.

“Here’s your next mission. Kill them, I want evidence, search for any files, the usual. Do it as quickly as possible, no need to investigate.”, simply said his boss.
Jungkook nodded, familiar with the procedures, taking the file without opening it. It was light, maybe just a page or two, which was unusual, but he didn’t show anything.

His boss nodded to the door, his dark locks moving in front of his eyes. Jungkook quickly got up, walking down the hallway, files in hand. Exiting the office, he gave one last look at the door, the black plaque with a carved “Min Yoongi” shinning under the neon light.




Jungkook ran up his stairs, nodding at his neighbor before opening his apartment door.
Entering in the darkness of the room, the boy sighed, tugging at his tie.
The small ray of lights coming from the window were enough for his tired eyes, Jungkook took off his shoes, throwing the file on the table in front of his tv.

His hand ran in his hair, messing his dark locks, he hated that he had to style them everytime he had to meet his boss.
Quickly, he walked towards his fridge, taking a bottle of beer, dragging the cold glass along his neck and collarbones before opening it.

It was way too hot, he thought, rolling his sleeve up. After this, he hoped that his new mission was in another country, somewhere where the climate was decent, or even in another city, he was growing tired of Seoul and his busy streets and neon lights. He also wanted something with more investigation.

The boy sighed, collapsing on his couch. He took a sip of his beer, eyes fixed on the file in front of him.
He always had a strange feeling everytime he had to start a new mission, he knew he was risking his life everytime. On the other hand, it’s what he chose to do, he couldn’t complaine.

Placing his bottle on the table, Jungkook reached to grab the brown folder, sitting comfortably before opening it.

His eyes quickly traveled on the paper, before stopping on the picture,

and he froze.

His eyes widen, could it be ? could it be Y/N ? he asked himself. The girl on the picture looked so much like her, his mouth fell agape, trying to distinguish the features of the girl on the blurry picture.
She was on the street, on hand firmly grabbing a large green and black drawing pad.

His heart started beating, turning the page, hoping to find another picture. The other one was clearer, the girl was smiling brightly, it looked like a photoshoot, and they were no doubt.

“Y/N…”, breathed Jungkook.

It had to be an error, it had to, he thought. But the more he looked at the pictures, the more he was convinced it was you.
The same eyes, the same smile.

Jungkook nervously searched for the information sheet, silently praying that he wouldn’t find your name writen black on white.
But he did, and he found your name, your adress, your number, your birth date, everything.
It was you.

He threw the file back on the table, as if he was repulsed by it, his head falling in his hands.
It’s been years since he saw you for the last time, when he had to leave Busan to train. Jungkook felt a heartache while seeing the pictures, the same he felt when he left you. Jungkook didn’t have a lot of regrets, but leaving his hometown without keeping in touch with you was his biggest regret.

After all, you were his best friend, and he never found someone that understood him like you did, he never felt so many things towards someone else.
He usually found himself thinking about you at night, his mind was always busy during the day, and when he did, he liked to comfort himself and think that he was only protecting you.

He had to do the same to his parents, he had to lie to them, tell them he had a normal, small job in Seoul, but they didn’t know that they were protected from afar by his company, however, the company only protected their agent’s family, and no one else.

By the adress, you lived in Seoul now, apparently, you left Busan too. But what happened ? Why were you his new prey ?

Did he had to kill you ?

Thinking about this, his head snapped back up.

He wouldn’t, he couldn’t.

It wasn’t like he never killed someone, but you weren’t anyone. Jungkook breathed in, his mind running. He couldn’t let you go, his boss would be disappointed, and he would get someone else to get the job done. He couldn’t kill you, it was beyond his power.

On the other hand, his agent self told him that maybe, just maybe, you did something so horrible that he had to kill you ? After all, his company worked for the gouvernment, he was killing the bad guys, right ?

His head fell back in his hands, foot tapping on the floor. From all the people, it had to be you, it had to be him.
Frustrated, his fist slammed on the table, the bottle shaking.

He got up, trying to block any unprofessional thought, it was his job, you were his pray, you were no one.
He gave a last glare to your adress, before grabbing his keys.




Jungkook exited out of his car, immediatly facing the tall building, somewhere, behind one of these windows, was his new prey.
Jungkook’s mind was running, as he walked towards the door, getting in the fresh ground floor.

He looked around, there were no cameras, no one at the reception. He instantly noticed the elevator, and slided in when the massive grey doors opened.
Jungkook’s finger pressed on the number, remebering your adress that he saw on the file.

The doors opened, and somehow, Jungkook couldn’t move. He couldn’t exit the cubic space, he felt heavy.
He noticed that his hands were sweaty, and he quickly rubbed them on his jean. He breathed, he was feeling like his unconfident old self again.

He snapped when he saw the doors close again, putting a firm hand between them and getting out of the small space where he felt like he was suffocating.

His shoes met the soft dark carpet, his eyes searching for the right number.
“Fourteen…fourteen…”, he breathed to himself, as if he needed to remember himself why he was here.

Quickly, he found the door, your door, a small “14″ on the door. You were probably behind these wall,s he was facing his path, and his decisions.
He took a deep breath, a voice in his head still trying to find a solution, trying to find a way to get you both out of here, no matter what you did to appear in his boss’ files.

He straightened his back, fist getting closer to the wood, before he stopped. Were you even going to recognise him ? Would it be easier for him ? Were you still the same person he knew ?

Pushing back his questions, his fist tapped on your door, before the hallway fell in silence.
Seconds felt like minutes, and the more he waited, the more he wanted to run and disappear.
But the door opened.

The door opened, and he froze.
You obviously suffering from the heat, only wearing a short and a tank top, one hand holding a black fan.
A thin layer of sweat was visible, making your skin glow, but Jungkook’s eyes where glued on your face, drinking in every detail.
Every other night, he wished he could see you, but not in those circumstances.
The both of you were silent, but something broke when you opened your mouth, a gasp falling from your lips.

“J-Jungkook ?”, you asked, stopping every movement from your hand.

And the boy felt his heart sank to the his feets when he heard you say his name, and he felt even worst when he felt your arms wrap around his torso.

Although, he couldn’t help himself, a sweet smile streching his lips, his own arms holding you. And he felt complete in a way, a weight leaving his shoulder, but the weight of what he had to you was still here and significant.

“Hi.”, he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to do, he was helpless, a hand rubbing your back.

Your hand hit his torso, taking him off garde, all senses alert, he had to think twice and not make any moves to defend himself.

“Where have you been ? Y-you fucking disappeared.”, you said, eyebrows furrowed, clearly ready to cry.

 “Y/N, it’s-”, he started, before you pulled him inside your apartment.

“Wait, d-do you want something to drink ?” you asked, while desturing towards your couch.

“No, thank you.”, Jungkook smiled, you were still the same. He looked around your apartment with modest furnitures, but it was clean.
He looked over the window, seeing the setting sun.

You sat next to him, your hand cupping his cheek.

“Look at you.”, you breathed. And Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, his head tilting to feel you touch.

“And l look at you.”, he laughed, a genuine laugh.

“So, what happened ?”, you asked, crossing your legs to fully turn your body towards him.

Jungkook got lost in his thoughts, a part of him wanted to tell you the truth, be true to you, but another half of him told him to just do what he was used to do, lie.

“Do we…really have to talk about that ?”, he asked. You moved your head, before he changed the subject.

“What about you ?”, he asked. At the moment, all he wanted was to hear you talk, catch up with everything that happened. And hopefully, just for a second, he would feel like he never left you.

“Oh, when-when you left, it was hard.”, you breathed. “But, you probably felt the same thing, you also had to leave your hometown.” and Jungkook smiled, closing his eyes, you always had been such a comprehensive person.

“But, you’re here now, right.”, you said, a hand grabbing his, and he melted, slowly becoming putty in your hands, and he felt like he was a teenage boy again. He nodded, and you continued.

“Eventually, I also moved from Busan. And now I’m an art major.”, you simply explained.

“How is Busan now ?”, he asked, eager to know more about his hometown.

“Oh you know, it’s the same, nothing really changed.”

He breathed, but his real goal came back in his mind like a torrent, his smile fading. He looked at you, detaling everyone of your features, his jaw tightening.

“Are you okay ?”, you asked, you hand coming back to his cheek.

He closed his eyes, he honestly felt like crying, the gesture adding on, you were the only one to touch him like that, the smallest touch making him feel so many things he thought he would never experience ever again.

“I missed you.”, Jungkook said, his voice breaking, and he hated himself for being so weak. He was trained to hide his emotions, or fake them, but everything he learned was thrown by the window.

He kept his eyes closed, trying to push every thoughts in a corner of his mind, his shoulders tensed, he wished he could find a way to fix everything, he wished so many things.

But his eyes opened when he felt your lips on his, the feeling nearly foreign to him. But before he could truly understand it, you pulled back.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know-”, you tried, before getting cut by Jungkook’s lips crashing on yours. And suddently, he was craving for more, lips moving against yours, his hand coming in contact with your hair.
He couldn’t say he never thought about it, he did from time to time asked himself what would have happened if he never left, and he wondered if you and him would’ve been more than best friends.

Jungkook pulled back, allowing both of you to breath, murmuring a “I missed you so much.”, against your lips.
He was feeling things he was prohibited to feel, he was thought that love, lust, sympathy were things to avoid.

But in a way, the mixture of all those thing, and you, were pulling all his pieces together again, and he felt like if he let you go, all his parts would fall again.

“I missed you.”, you said, your own voice breaking, and Jungkook pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around your waist, his head dropping in your neck.
He breathed in your perfume, before leaving a hard kiss where your neck and shoulder met, your fingers intertwining with the locks of his hair.

Jungkook swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He saw your shaky hand grab a handful of his shirt, before taking taking the first button between your fingers.

You didn’t move for a second, waiting for him to approuve, and he did, nodding. And with that, your digits went to work, unbuttoning his shirt, leaving a kiss on his torso everytime a new parcelle of skin was exposed.

Soon enough, his shirt was open, your hands running up and down the smooth skin, your lips coming back to his mouth.
“I still can’t believe you left me like that.”, you breathed against his lips, in an attempt to get a reaction from him.

And it worked, his hand delicatly grabbing your jaw, peppering kisses on your jawline and neck, “I’m sorry.”, he breathed.

Jungkook sucked on your skin, a moan tumbling down from your lips, making a hiss escape his mouth.
Unconsciously, your hips started rocking on top of Jungkook’s thigh, your breath growing irregular.

The boy didn’t notice, to busy pulling your top off, eager to feel your skin against his. You pulled his shirt out of his shoulder, throwing it somewhere on the couch, alongside your top, your hips moving again.
Your head fell backwards, exposing your throat. Jungkook instantly attached his mouth to the skin, his teeth slightly biting on it.

“Jungkook.”, you cried out. The boy hummed, his hands travelling on your chest before resting on your lower half.

“Touch me.”, you begged, lightly pulling on his hair.

Jungkook’s breath got caught in his throat, buttles rising in his stomach. Everything was a blur around him, his mind focused on you. His hand unzipped your pants, before letting them fall on the ground. He stopped for a second, eyes travelling up and down your body.

“You look beautiful.”, he said, fingers tugging at the hem of your black panties,

“But I would rather take these off.”, he continued, finding a new confidence.

A hand on your waist, the boy layed you on the couch, your head on the arm rest. His other hand grabbed the back of your thigh, his lips dragging on your skin from your collarbones to your hip bone, where he marked you.

Your hand grabbed the back of his head, a sigh leaving your lips. Before you could talk again, Jungkook’s digits hooked under the hem of your panties, taking it off and placing himself between your legs.

His breath ghosting over your heat, he keept eye contact before placing a single kiss on your clit. This simple touch making a faint moan escape from your lips, chest rising and falling at and uneven pace.

You closed your eyes, impatiently licking your lips, before mumbling a “Please.”, and that’s all he needed.His lips immediatly wrapping around your clit, sucking, before his digits started teasing your entrance. Jungkook hummed at your taste, the vibrations making you moan.

Licking and sucking, his finger finally pushed in, making your back arched, your moan filling the room. The boy’s eyes were closed, focused, his hips almost bucking everytime he heard your moan. Your noises sounded like heaven, and all he wanted was to hear more.

You, on the other hand, wanted to feel more, your body craving to feel more.
“Jungkook.”, you called. He opened his eyes, filled with lust. “More.”, you begged, unable to form a full sentence. You tugged on his hair, hoping he would get the hint.

He looked up, lips and chin shining. “More.”, you asked again, hand pushing his jeans.
Jungkook understood, quickly taking his pants and underwear off. He was hard, the tip red, a drop of pre-cum leaking. He wanted to pleasure you first, but the both of you were too impationt, craving for each other’s body.

His fingers intertwined with yours, resting on the arm rest on each side of your head, you gave him a nod, and his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss before pushing in. Moans coming from each side.

His pace was slow, he wanted it to last, whimpers tumbling from his lips. His torso was brushing against yours, sweat forming on your skin.
Jungkook closed his eyes, trying to process the amount of pleasure he was feeling.

Your name was falling from his lips like a prayer, before falling on the crook of your neck, trying to muffle his moans.
Broken moans were heard from the both of you, his pace quicken, his hips bucking without his will.

Jungkook’s teeth dugged into your skin, making you cry out. One of his hand left your, travelling down your body before he met you hip. Your nails dragged on his back, making sure to leave marks when Jungkook’s finger started circling on your clit.

Your back arched, forgetting to breath for a moment when his finger tip pressed hard, his dick hitting a particular spot.

“I’m gonna cum.”, you warned, eyes shut.

“Let go, I’m here.”, he said, his finger pressing hard, and that’s all you needed, your eyes rolling back, a long moan coming from your lips.

“Fuck, fuck.”, he cursed, hips slowing down.

Jungkook came shortly after, a final grown escaping his lips, mumbling a “God.”, through gritted teeths. Your hand went once again through his hair, pulling back the dark locks falling in his eyes.

Collapsing on top of you, his fingertips caressed the multiple hickies he left on your skin, before pulling out, arms wrapped around you.

His mind was empty, he was full, and he wished it never stopped, but his head snapped back up.
Distraught eyes looking at you, he quickly got up, throwing you clothes on you, “You need to leave the town.”

City lights.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: All these years together, and you had to fall in love before he goes.

Warnings: Angst

Words: 5022

A/N: Real life is taking away the best of me. So I needed to write, even though my brain doesn’t let me. Have fun with this little story. I also recommend you guys to listen to this before or while reading it for a major effect.

A special thanks to Jade (@brighterlights ) for being my beta reader, who has spent a valuable amount of time helping me with my grammar mistakes and poor phrasing. Thank you so much for being this awesome and kind, I appreciate you tons.♥ 


Originally posted by heartsnmagic

It was one of those unusual nights where cold beers end up losing their freshness after being left on the coffee table for way too long. Those nights that remain unnoticed on the electricity bill at the end of the month. Those nights when the alarm sounds, you’re already awake. Yes, they were exceptional nights. But so typical when he was involved in them.

His presence in your life was sporadic, but his memory was splattered all around you. You had pictures, stolen hoodies, his old dog tags, and diaries saved in a tiny box hidden under your bed. He even said once that your place was the best for him to hide his heart because nobody would search for it outside the battlefield.

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