moving forward to lean against the glass

A thing you probably don’t know about me is that sometimes I get in this mood where I don’t want to do anything but spend every spare moment binge-watching House, M.D. for several days at a time. I was on ep 2.15, “Clueless,” AKA that one where Wilson crashes at House’s place for a while, when inspiration struck and this Sterek drabble happened. Or… It’s almost 2k words, so maybe it’s a bit more than a drabble, BUT it’s still a drabble in spirit. (Rated T.)

It’s almost midnight when Derek finally shoulders on his coat, locks his office door, and steps out, only to spot Stiles crouched in front of the vending machine at the end of the hall, whacking the glass with the heel of his palm and muttering darkly.

Derek can’t just ignore him; he never can. (It’s a bit of a problem, and everyone in the hospital seems to know it, except for Stiles.) Before he knows it, he’s changed tracks and walked right over. “What are you still doing here?”

Stiles sits back on his heels to look up at him. “Bob ate my dollar and I’m feeling petty so I’m trying to get it back.”

“Bob?” Derek asks, a split second before he remembers that Stiles named the vending machine. It’s just this kind of thing that makes Derek feel guilty for sometimes looking at Stiles’ mouth a little too long, or pausing to let his eyes follow Stiles’ progress down the hall. Stiles isn’t a kid or anything, but he’s still only 26 to Derek’s 32, and he’s still got a year of residency to go. A lot of times, like when he’s jamming out to his iPod while he looks over lab work or doing stupid stuff like naming the vending machines, he seems to Derek more like a college kid than a grown man with a medical license and a house and a girlfriend.

Stiles goes back to hitting the vending machine, and Derek remembers why he originally came over here. “Didn’t your shift end at 7?”

Stiles smirks up at him, and Derek tries very, very hard not to imagine him making that same face in certain… other contexts. “What, you got my schedule memorized now, Dr. Hale? I’m flattered.”

It would make Derek’s life a lot easier if so much of what Stiles said didn’t come out sounding so flirtatious. Derek crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re deflecting.”

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You Walk Out During A Fight{Part 2}~ BTS Scenario

{Part 1}

I had to split this into two part due to me going all out and stuff, hella fluff some light fluffy smut, so this is the {Vocal Line} for the rest click here {Rap Line}


Originally posted by blackandwhitebangtan

It was two in the morning when you finally walked bacl into your apartment. It wasn’t deadly silent, it was quiet though. Your shoes kicked to the side and you jacket dropping to the ground. To tried to hang it up, as you walk deeper into the apartment the light in the kitchen was on, making you sigh. Walking in you expected the mess still be there, but it was clean. Spotless even, hearing shuffling down the hall making you freeze when the noise came closer keeping your back to the kitchen entryway. It stopped, and a heavy huff of air was let out, suddenly you felt trapped.

Arms wrapped tightly around you, making your breathing stop. His nose nestled into your shoulder as his grip tightening around you making your hand grip his arm. The small gesture made his eyes water as he take s breath.

“It’s so late.” He whimpers, the noise made your heart break, turning around in his arms he lifts you onto the counter. His eyes look at you, his lips parted with his hand resting on your thighs.

“I know.” You mumble bringing your hand up to his face, your thumb running across his bottom lip. He lets out a shutter as he leans into the palm of your hand. His eyes closed as you finger catches the tears that fall.

“I was so scared.” The words made your chest tighten as he moved between you legs, your hands move to his shoulders, rubbing them as you nod.

“I know.”

“I sorry I was so….so frustrated and I didn-”

“I know .” You mumble bring his face closee to your, you nose brush as he take a deep breath. His eyes open, the glass like eyes stare at you as he leans forward.

“I love you.”

“I know.” You mumble, your lips pushing against his. His hands move up your thighs, moving the cloth short you were in up. His lips push against yours, the simple movments made both of you moan as your hand move to his hair. The pulling of his hair made him groan as you detached his lips from yours, the loss of the feeling of your lips made him wine. The nose alone made your core tingle, but the sound he made when your lips latched onto his neck made you grow animalistic. The way you nipped and sucked at the skin, colors of red and pinks splattered across his neck.

“Y/n.” The way he moans your name was like a cry for help, his hand gripping your sides. “Please.” He whines when you finally pull away from his skin, a hiss like sound made him shiver. Looking at his skin, a small smile lifted on your lips at the sight. His eyes closed, lips parted and head lightly bow’d. His chest moving up and down, as pants leave his body.

“Look at you baby, all my marks.” You mumble, you finger running over the red and pinks that are covering his neck. He flinched slightly when one close to being open touch your fingertip.

“Ow….Y/n…the boys are going to tease me.” He wines burying his head back into your neck.

“Jin, you’re lucky I came back I almost went to bed at my office.”


Originally posted by parkjiminer

You were laying in bed listening to randon songs, when a sudden weight is on you making you jump. There blonde hair was a mattes mess and limbs sprawled out leading to laughter passing you lips. His chin rest in your chest as he poutes. “I told you so.”

“I’ll bite you ” he mumbles smriking at you as his lip touch your collarbone.

“Kinky.” You muble win hid teeth nipped at your skin, the feeling made you jump. As he moves up your body, his hips brushing against yours making you moan.

“You want kinky? You should be punished after walking out during our fi-ow!“he wines when you pinched his arm, he looks at you as he jerks his hips into yours. "Not so fun is it?” His voice was a growl as he lets his lips connect with yours. The feeling made your hands move up and cup the sides of his face. He lets a smile slips past him when you rolled you hips with his. Soon he rolla off of you, bring your body ontop of his. Lips still attached as his hand place themselves onto your hips. Your hands move from his face to his shoulders, the squeeze you gave him made him yelp in pain. Pulling away you frown, you hands massaging the tender muscle. He lets out a moan, his eyes closing as his head falls onto your chest. His mouth parteds as his body relaxes

“I told you so, didn’t I?” You tease him making his hands tighten onto your hips. The feeling of his hands made you smrik aa you pull back, your body roll off of his, back facing him as you close your eyes.

“Y/n!” He wines making you giggle as his arms wrap around you. “Baby.” He mumbles into your neck making you laugh even more.


Originally posted by parkjiminer

“Yes, I know Jin-Oppa….yes I know….I’m on my way home….yes…..he pissed me off I needed to blow steam..” You were talking into your cell phone as you walk down the hall. Jin had called you talking about the slight panic Taehyung had when you didn’t come home all night. You had slept over at one of the people you had been paired with for the project. She had insisted it, so you were walking home in one of his shrits you had left in your car and a pair of her sweats. “I’m here now Jin..I know…I tell you about it later. Bye Oppa.” You hang up as you unlock your door, walking in you were greeted by the sight of Tae sitting on the ground. Hus eyes looking at a framed photo. “Tae?” You voice did nothing as he cruled into himself, the picture falling onto the ground.

Walking to him, you bend down and sit next to him. His knees pressed to his chest his head bow’d down making you frown. Your hand reached over snd touched his shoulder. His body tensed even more as a sob leaves his lips, pulling him into you he falls into your side. His body still cruled into itself. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled making you sugh as you kiss the top of his head, “I just wanted you to pay attention to me, we’ve both been so busy and I j-”

“Shhh, it’s all good Tae.” You mumble moving his head up, his eyes were red and puffy. His cheeks looked raw and his lips were dry. You lean down, you lips touching his making him moan. His hand moving up to touch the sides of your face, the simple movment made you guggle as you pull away.

“I’m a really a brat?” He questions making you rise a eyebrow.

“Yes, but so am I.”


Originally posted by parkjiminer

“Y/n, open up!” He yells through your door, you roll your eyes as you turn your music up. The pounding only got louder lesvibg to you being worried he’ll get in trouble. Rushing the door you open it and glare, he was wearing a sweatshrit you two offten share, and his hair was a mess. His eyes had bags as he looked at you.“Thank god, I’m so sorr-”

“Shut up.” You snap grabbing him by the nape of his neck. His hands grab your hips as you pull him into the apartment. Pushing him back against the closed door he lets out a moan, as your hand runs down his body, stopping on top of his growing bulge. The movment made him pull back from your lip and begin to pant as you tighten your hold on him. His eyes squeeze shut as you lips trail up his neck. “Am I childish now?” You grumble making him moan as you nip at his ear. The noise alone made you shiver but when you pulled back the look he had made you growl.

“Y/n.” He wines the way he looked at you as you backed away you body completely leaving his. “Please.”

“Bad boys get punished.”

“Flirting 101″

Post-Ultron; Everyone survived the events of AoU and returned to Stark tower afterwards.

“You’re staring…” Natasha leaned over to whisper to Steve. The Avengers were scattered around a room within Stark Tower enjoying the cool evening as the sun set. Wanda and Pietro cuddled up in front of the TV, Stark was drinking and laughing heartily with Thor and Banner behind the bar whilst Nat and Steve sat with two mugs of coffee at the dining table. The pair had a good view of the entire room though Steve was only focused on one person in it.

You sat on the other sofa in front of the television with a bowl of noodles that you were attempting to lift into your mouth using chopsticks. Despite Clint sitting next to you and talking you through how to use the utensils, you were not succeeding in this task. Steve watched on from a distance, mesmerised by how innocent you seemed. Yet he knew better than most that you were not to be trifled with after the incident involving Tony whom you’d stabbed with a fork after he tried flirting with you. It was this reason among many that he was reluctant to make his feelings about you known. Natasha and Tony were the only ones to pick up on the signs.

“Ask her out, dummy.” Nat whispered to him though he made no move to acknowledge that he’d heard her for some time. Instead, his gaze remained focused on you as you tried for the nth time to get the noodles in your mouth. He chuckled as they promptly fell from your grasp and plopped back into the bowl. Eventually he looked back at his mug and replied to Nat.
“And risk fork injuries? No thanks.”
“Really? That’s what you’re afraid of? You know as well as I do that she stabbed him purely because he called her “babe”. Frankly, I think he was lucky to get off with just being stabbed - God knows what I would have done if he’d called me that.”
“Not helping Nat.” He grumbled, running his finger around the rim of the mug. At the sound of cheering and clapping, Steve looked up to see that you had managed to shovel some of the food into your mouth. Clint clapped his hands together with a laugh whilst the twins whistled and cheered. Steve felt the side of his mouth turning up into a proud smirk before looking back down again.
“You poor, lovesick little puppy…” Nat said sarcastically, slapping her hand on his shoulder. He chuckled, grateful for Nat’s attempts to console him, even if they weren’t necessarily working yet.

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“Heartbreak” Jacob Black x Swan!Reader

Originally posted by onlygodcanjudgeme-sh

Summary: You are Bella’s younger sister who is completely unaware of all things supernatural. She is completely in love with Jacob, but he tries his best to keep her at a distance to protect her, but it completely backfires when she sees him kissing her sister. 

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selcaboysmain  asked:

can u write about how yoongi kisses you after not seeing you for a longish time ?

word count: 1,159

Yoongi remembered in the twelve seconds he was stationed outside your apartment door that he’d forgotten to call your landlord about replacing the lock. It was rusted and old and barely accepted the stab of shiny, ridged metal clutched between his fingers. Even when it chose to cooperate it was more of a screaming child finally deciding to pick up their feet to hike after their mother in a supermarket. It was moving forward but it was still screaming. 

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bad omen | C14 | sweet pea

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six  |chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine | chapter ten | chapter eleven | chapter twelve | chapter thirteen

For a second time in nearly three weeks, Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe had been my saving grace. I walked through the door, duffel on my shoulder as I glanced around the restaurant for an available booth. It was surprisingly empty for a Friday night, so I opted for the booth right in front of the cash. I waved to Pop as I passed, dropping the heavy bag into the corner of the booth as I slipped in, sinking back into the cushion with a sigh. I ran a tired hand over my face.

Packing everything into my bag and leaving had been a last minute decision, and it was one I was sure I would regret come the morning. I had resorted to shutting my phone off, hoping that would buy me a few hours to seriously rethink what exactly I was doing. Was I on the right track? There was a part in me, a dominant, eager part of me that just wanted to disappear for a few hours. Nonetheless, I lifted my weary eyes from the smooth table top and leaned my head back against the booth as Pop set a tall glass down in front of me, and smiled, “You look like you could use one of these.”

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anonymous asked:

thruce, 19 or 32?;;

Sometimes, Bruce never left his lab.

It worried Thor after it became a routine; he’d lock the doors and tint the windows, and all Thor would be able to see of him would be a huge, black box where the lab had been. The whole team had been a bit wary of it at first, but when it started occurring more often, they started to pay less and less attention to it. Thor, however, never let himself get used to it.

Every night, he’d check to see if Bruce was at his lab. Most of the time, the windows were clear, and he could observe Bruce as he typed on computers or assembled different devices with hands as steady as a surgeons.

Tonight, though, the windows were pitch black, and the only noise Thor could hear when he pressed his ear to the glass was a faint flickering. When Thor had tried to open the door, the same alert from Jarvis sounded through the hall.

“Dr. Banner does not want to be disturbed.”

Thor just tried to pull the doors open, doing his best to not break them as he struggled to pull them apart. He sighed when he gave up, glaring at the tinted windows as he caught his breath. “Jarvis, open the doors. He could need help.”

“Dr. Banner does not want to be disturbed.”

There was a beat, and Thor just looked down. Why did he care so much, anyway? He hadn’t been working with Bruce for long; they’d just beaten Loki, and instead of going back to Asgard right away, he’d decided to extend his vacation in Midgard. However, he’d started to admire the scientist during his stay; Banner had seemed confused about it, but he always let Thor into his lab- but never on days like this.

He thought about just leaving, retreating back to his room, but just as he started to leave he’d heard something crash from inside the lab, and he instantly turned back, pressing his hands onto the glass and knocking on the door. “Banner!?” he called, but there was no response. He tried opening the doors again.

“Dr. Banner does not want to be disturbed.”

Thor grumbled, slamming his fist into the glass and taking a deep breath. “Jarvis, is he alright?”

There was a pause.

“He is in great distress.”

“Let me enter, Jarvis.”

There was another pause before the doors suddenly slid open, and Thor took off into the room, looking around. It was dark inside, as well, and all Thor could see were the faint outlines of tables and monitors before he finally saw something out of place in the corner of the room.

There was a table that had tipped over, tons of papers and devices laying all over the floor, as well as Bruce, who was leaned up against the fallen table. He seemed to have frozen still when he heard the doors open, and when Thor started approaching him, he pushed himself back, starting to get up before Thor put his hands out in front of him, trying to calm the man as he approached.

“Hey- it’s okay,” he whispered, as if there hadn’t been just a loud crash in the room. “I’m not going to hurt you, Banner. It’s ok.”

He seemed to relax, lowering himself down to lean on the table again. Thor could’ve sworn he heard a faint sniffle, but he decided not to comment on it. He found a lightswitch, turning it on just enough so that there was a faint glow in the room.

Bruce was in his normal lab attire, but his glasses were off. He fiddled with them in his hands, his hair hanging down in his face as he did. “What are you doing here?” he spoke up, speaking in a whisper as well. He seemed tense, frozen up against the table, and not entirely facing Thor.

The god lowered himself next to him, leaning on the table as well and looking forward. The two of them were quiet for a moment before Thor finally answered. “I worry about you, Banner,” he admitted, turning his gaze to look at him. “You never leave this place.”

Bruce just nodded, and Thor heard the faint sniffle again, but this time he moved his hand to Bruce’s cheek, turning his face to meet Thor’s. Bruce seemed even more tense now, his eyes wide as his glasses fell from his hands and clattered to the floor. There was red under his eyes, and his cheeks looked red, and for whatever reason, Thor felt his heart speed up with worry. He didn’t move his hand.

“Your eyes are red….Were you crying?”

Bruce furrowed his eyebrows, pulling back from Thor and rubbing his eyes, turning away and letting out a shaky sigh. He seemed to want to say something, but he stayed silent, and Thor found himself wrapping his arms around the man, pulling him closer and hugging him gently. Bruce was stiff in his arms for a few seconds before suddenly sinking into the hug, wrapping his arms around Thor’s middle.

They sat there for a few seconds, Thor not realizing how small Bruce really was until he was holding him, feeling the other lean against him and drawing in slow breathes. “Thank you,” Bruce whispered in a broken voice, breaking the silence. “But I’m fine. Really.”

“You’re not. What happened, Banner?”

“Nothing. I tripped.”

Thor pulled back, suddenly holding Bruce’s face in his hands, trying his best to ignore how Bruce’s cheeks went red as he did. “Will you just tell me the truth?” he asked, using his thumb to wipe stray tear from his face.

Bruce looked down, leaning into Thor’s hands as he seemed to consider this. “I…got angry,” he whispered, and Thor saw his eyes start to fill with tears again. Thor took him in his arms again, hugging him tightly as he heard sobs rake through the man, his face buried in Thor’s shoulder as he shushed him.

It was that night that Thor realized how strong Bruce Banner was.

Bathtime Drabble

Author Notes:
I’m holiday so i’ve queued a few drabbles for you ladies.
If you like any let me know I could rewrite them longer.
Warnings: SMUT 

Originally posted by heather-heather-bear

@nothingbuthappydays, @sweetvengeancee, @dangerousvikings, @guardianofthestars25, @inthenameofodin, @ivartrash, @sliceofparadise, @more-thaan-words, @float-autumn-leave, @hornyorca, @synnersaint, @sugakookiexx, @littlepanda-love, @ivartheboneme, @lordavanti, @tiyetiye,

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A Taste of Betrayal

This is the first in a series of Hannigram first sexual encounters. Each chapter is an unrelated one-shot fic that explores different aspects of their relationship and how it might develop into a sexual one. Some will be angsty and rough, some will be tender and fluffy, some will be during show canon, some will be season 4 timeframe, etc.

If you enjoy, please leave a comment or reblog. Feel free to send suggestions, although I can’t promise I’ll fill prompts right away. But, ideas are welcome!

Will handed Hannibal a glass of whiskey. “Here, from the bottle you got me. I had been saving it, but this seems like as good a time as any.”

Hannibal sniffed it. “I generally prefer wine, but I’m happy to share this with you, Will.”

The night sky outside Will’s house was dark. The moon and stars hidden behind storm clouds.

Hannibal looked contemplative and rubbed his thin lips together. “I have not been back here since you’ve been released from prison. The air smells different than before. The house has been changed, just as you have.”

Will sized Hannibal up, moving to sit down, his fingers tapping against the glass he held. “Betrayal will change a person. The vibrations between us our different now.”

Hannibal leaned forward in his chair, unbuttoning the front of his suit jacket in one smooth motion.

“We can rebuild something better now, Will. We can become our true selves now, together, and lay bare who we really are in front of one another.”

The words sent a strange tingle up Will’s spine, one of trepidation and also of desire. He was aware of these feelings he sometimes had for Hannibal, more aware of them now after the betrayal and also more bothered by them. They made reaching his end goal more tricky, muddled how he really felt, and made where Hannibal’s feelings began and his own ended more and more hazy.

Hannibal always talked in these euphemisms. They never outright expressed their desires, but their eyes spoke volumes. They knew what the other meant.

“I regret the disruption in our development, Will, but I believe we can evolve beyond this into something more natural and advantageous to us both.”

Maybe it was the whiskey getting to his brain, but Will was tiring of these wordplays. The slithering way Hannibal refused to take responsibility for framing Will, for the pain he had caused.

“I said before that I had to deal with my feelings for you, Hannibal. But do not mistake that to mean that those feelings will end up on a positive note, that they will bring you what you want.”

“What is it you think I want, Will?”

“I think you want many things all at once. You want me. To mold me into a creature of your own design. Partially out of curiosity, partially out of a desire for companionship, partially to see what i will do. How you can change me, bend me to your will.”

Hannibal smirked. Taking another sip of his drink, their eyes locked together.

“I would like to bend your will to mine this time …”

Will’s eyes darkened, hatred and desire mixing together into a poisonous, unstoppable force in his mind. He wanted the man in front of him to become undone at his hand.

Hannibal’s smile widened. “And what would you like to see me become at your hand, Will?”

Read the rest here!

camsthisky  asked:

59. “No one can hurt me like you can.” With Dick and Bruce?

you got it, cammio :3 looks like my prompters have a running theme. this is what i call, hey remember jersey’s terrible

59. “No one can hurt me like you can.”

Once, he’d sat with Jason, before he’d died, and said, “Someday, you’ll know when, you’ll be in the thick of it, right? And, suddenly, the things you need to get done are going to split. Your problems are going to double. You’re in a burning building, the structure is failing, there are still people who need to get out. Someone’s bleeding, but the perp is getting away.”

He’d pinned Jason - Robin, rather, because the only times he’d really talked to Jason, it had been mask-to-mask - with a look and said, “He’s going to look at you, and he’s going to tell you to go. Get out of here. Start running, and don’t look back. Your job is to ignore him. Not all robins fly south for the winter.”

He’d been so angry, back then - it was like someone had thrust needles filled with white-hot fire through his pores. The cruelest thing he’d done to Jason was also the one thing he could never bring himself to apologize for: he hadn’t trusted Jason, not with Bruce. He could never apologize for that. He would never try. 

It sucked, he could imagine himself saying. But there are three people I truly trust with the man that raised me, and I’m at the top of that list. I made it hard on you. I’d do it again. You understand?

The warehouse was painted in shades of ash and ink and acid green from the streetlamp outside. Dick pressed his heel into the floorboards, and they creaked under the added weight. The only sign of Bruce was the flash of white lenses from the corner of the room, folded deep into the shadows as if he had been born into them. Dick’s finger tapped the emergency beacon attached to his comm. 

“Hi,” Dick murmured, trying to pitch his voice as low and soft as possible. It would be harder for the toxin to corrupt, that way. 

There was the slightest shift from the corner, but the two slits moved not a millimeter. It felt a bit like he was being judged, like his heart was being weighed against a feather. Dick knelt down, scooting only a bit closer - the light from outside cast the blue stripes running down his arms into an alien, minty color. “It’s just me.”

“You can’t be Jason.”

Dick closed his eyes. The pain of it spread through him, like someone had let loose a butterfly with broken glass wings in his chest. “It’s not. It’s Dick.”

“Whoever you are,” Bruce snarled, leaning far enough forward so Dick could just see the cut of of Batman’s silhouette, “wherever you hide. you can’t run from me.”


Bruce slithered out of the shadows. Dick was able to block the first few swings with ease. He’d known Bruce for so long he could often feel the way Bruce would move just before he did; he fought like a mammoth, an unstoppable force only ever moving forward. He was stacked for power, about four times as fast as he looked, and every hit landed with nothing less than absolute precision - kick in the teeth, hit to a nerve bundle, and it was that indomitable control that made him unnerving in a fight. What if, couldn’t help but float out of the haze of the fight, what would this look like if his temper wasn’t viciously reined

The answer is that it would fucking hurt. Dick coughed, stumbling back and blocking a kick from Bruce’s left leg. Bruce took the opportunity to headbutt him, and Dick caught his head, kneeing him sharply in the spot he new the abdominal armor was weakest. 

“Who are you,” Bruce roared. Dick rolled, and Bruce’s fist plunged into the wall, throwing up a cloud of dust. “What have you done to him!”

“I’m not Jason!” Dick shouted, but it was weak from the hits he’d taken. Dick just couldn’t bring himself to hit back hard enough. “I’m not, goddammit - he’s dead, Bruce!”

Bruce threw him to the ground, boot on his throat. “You killed him,” Bruce whispered, words like pearls on glass. “You killed him.”

Dick closed his eyes, focusing on forcing air through his throat. “B-B - “

“I would have given anything,” Bruce said, the leather caught in his curled fists creaking, “anything, anything to spare him that. My life. My parents’ lives. Anything. Of everything you could take - why him?”

Bruce was stumbling backward, then, and sweet air was rushing into his chest. Dick hocked up spit, bracing himself against the floorboards with his palms. 

Bruce had backed up to the wall, and was curled against it. He pulled off the cowl, and was trying to suck in breath after breath after breath - when it failed to calm him down, he beat himself in the forehead with the flat of his palm.

Dick crawled over, lungs still shuddering, stomach still turning, and wrapped his hand around Bruce’s. The toxin was escalating fast. He didn’t have long before Bruce would be utterly beyond rational. 

“C’mon, stop this,” Dick murmured. 

Bruce was shuddering all over, starting to rock himself back and forth. His hand squeezed Dick’s until the bones creaked. “Jason. Jason.”

“He’s dead,” Dick whispered. 

“You’re dead.” And then Bruce was pulling Dick tight against him, like sheer force would save him, fingers dancing at the edges of - invisible burns. Christ. “I killed you.”

You’d better hurry up, Tim, Dick thought.

“Loved you, Jay,” Bruce choked out, head bent against Dick’s. “Loved you. Son.”

Behind the lenses, Dick looked away, and for a moment, he was anywhere but here, in a rotting room with a rotting heart listening to the words - word - he’d always wanted to hear, but were not for him.

“No one can hurt me like you can,” Dick said, quietly, and he closed his eyes, letting Bruce rock him back and forth with increasingly frantic energy. Anything to be anywhere but here.

A Klance Oneshot


“Have you ever considered the idea that maybe this world doesn’t revolve around you and your problems?”

Keith’s words echoed in Lance’s mind, swirling and cutting into the wound it originally caused, digging in deeper and burying its sharp claws in his aching heart. It wasn’t his fault. Home was just, so far, so so far. He pressed his palms against his eyes, trying in vain to push away the stinging pain of unshed tears.

He knew Keith hadn’t meant it that way, the other boy had enough weight on his shoulders without having to worry about Lance’s insecurities. With Shiro gone, the black lion was without a paladin and frankly no one knew what to do about it. Team Voltron was in panic mode, and unfortunately, so was Lance.

The past few months in space weighed heavily on his mind, his family probably thought he was dead, Shiro all but ignored his suggestions. Hell, everyone did. He was all but invisible. Especially to Keith. Fuck that guy. Keith, the guy who was perfect in every way except for his delinquent attitude and stupid hair. Lance would never be enough for him, the former cargo pilot knew it. It was the driving reason for his forced rivalry. He wouldn’t fall for the red paladin if he pretended to hate him, right?

Wrong. That’s why Lance was here, on the observation deck, staring off into space, wondering exactly where his plan had gone wrong.

“This isn’t what I wanted” he said to no one in particular, burying his head in his arms. “I just want to go home” his voice cracking, betraying his emotions.

He quickly wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, wiping away his sadness.

“Come on lance. Pull yourself together man.”

He quickly stood and moved toward the large windows, looking out into space. A familiar smile pulled at his lips as tears spilled down his cheeks.

“this isn’t you. At least not the you they know” he ran a hand through his hair and tilted his head back with a loud sigh.

“This isn’t about you man.” he told himself, looking back at his reflection

“The universe needs you. At least… It thinks it does.” he leaned forward, staring himself in the eyes as he leaned his forehead against the glass.

“Keith always does cool stuff, and Hunk holds us all together, and pidge is really smart. And I thought I was the sharpshooter, but I guess I really don’t have a thing. Five lions, and they get stuck with me as a paladin. Im sure blue would pick anyone else over me if she had the chance. So would Keith.” he straightened up and wiped his face yet again, picking up his jacket before charging back through the castle, a smile plastered on his face, as if nothing was wrong.

What he didn’t notice was Keith, hiding just outside the door, a stricken look on his face.

Sex Lessons

Pairing: Y/N/Ashton

Rating: NC-17

Request: No

Words: 3.100+

Summary: Y/N is unaware, not sexually experienced and her best friend Ashton wants to change that and help her the second he finds out. 

It was a mix of chatter and laughter that sounded loud from the balcony to your dorm room, a bottle of cheap vodka resting in the middle of the table and Michael’s bass player being background music to your conversation.

”Okay, this is gonna be an easy one.” Calum announced, clouds of dark grey smoke leaving his plump pink lips.

He moved his hand over the rack of the balcony to stump bits of his cigarette, moved forward and grabbed the filled shot glass to raise it in the air.

In reaction everyone did as so, you leaning away from Ashton’s chest to grab yours and his glass. His white football jersey was soft against your bare back, his long legs resting on the available spot under the table while you leaned your feet against the bench you were sitting at.

”Never have I ever had an orgasm.” It was a mix of groans that escaped people’s lips by Calum’s ridiculous simply way of making anyone drink in one take. He raised the glass in the air while wearing a smirk, watching as every single one lifted it to their mouths except you.

Keep reading

Across the Hall

Jeon Jungkook

Genre: high school au, friends to lovers

Word Count: 3.1k

Warning(s): fluff? idk

Summary: Never before had Jungkook been so thankful for rain.

Originally posted by kookmint


Jungkook ducked around a kid that appeared young enough and rude enough to be a freshman, swallowing the huff of annoyance that climbed up his throat. He continued to fight his way through the crowded high school hallway, too warm and too stressed to care that he was brushing past people quite roughly in the attempt to reach his sixth period class.

And he happened to glance up, and there you were, stepping silently around a clingy couple hanging on each other’s shoulders.

Despite his previous state of mind, he found himself pushing through the crowd with less fervor, watching your form that looked especially small compared to those around you. Your eyes were on the ground, but that was a habit of yours, a part of the humble gentleness you carried about yourself unintentionally. He observed with utter adoration how you still managed to hold yourself confidently, instead of folding into yourself. You were less shy than quiet, less nervous than hesitant.

And for reasons unknown, he found it overwhelming attractive. You were so effortlessly beautiful, so gentle. You were both seniors that year, and though he’d had his eye on you for three years, he’d never felt he had enough reason to talk to you. You were the living entity of perfection, and no moment was ever deemed significant enough in his mind to excuse speaking to you.

You passed him by, not glancing up—because you never did that in the hallway—and he was left awestruck, to move aimlessly on his feet just because he’d been near you, affected like an immature teenager with no control over his emotions.


Never before had Jungkook been so thankful for rain.

He was driving home one evening, avoiding obscure potholes and dips in the road spilling over with rushing layers of water. It was storming—thunder cracking across the sky in blinding fractals, heavy rain pelting the windshield, gusts of wind swirling against the glass window pane. Then, the corners of his headlights shed beams on a figure walking along the sidewalk.

At first, he was confused as to why said person was moving so idly through a thunderstorm, and then he simply felt pity for them.

In the same moment, he recognized a darkened version of a familiar backpack, and with a start, leaned forward to peer over the steering wheel and confirm that it was indeed the same backpack that he saw going down the halls before him everyday at school.

Yes, it was you. He saw your hair sticking to your neck, clothes soaked and hanging heavily off your body.

Without a second thought, he pulled up next to the curb, heart in his throat. Rolling down the passenger window, he yelled, “Hey! (y/n)!”

You glanced over, confused, but then recognition fell over your features. He wondered, as you opened your mouth, if you were about to say his name in greeting, but his only focus was getting you out of the rain.

“Do you need a ride?” he called in loud voice. You were leaning down to peer into the cabin of his car, straining to hear over the howling of the wind. You understood though, and started to shake your head at his generous offer, forming some incoherent response about it being too much of a bother. Jungkook wasn’t having it; he was already unbuckling his seatbelt to lean closer to the far window.

“Come on, let me drive you home!”

“Are you serious?” you shouted over the wind, covering your eyes with your hand, a truly pointless attempt at shielding your face as you squinted inside the car. He tried saying something again, but then you were protesting with just as much fervor. “No, Jungkook, I’ll absolutely drench your car—”

But he was swinging his car door open, jogging in front of the headlight beams, and standing in front of you, tugging the bag in your hand out of your grip.

“Now I’ll absolutely drench my car, too,” he said with a hint of amusement evident in his voice, and that was how you ended up in his front seat of his car.

He slammed the door shut after himself with a large huff of relief, glancing over at you to gauge your current state. You looked over at him, shooting him a closed-mouthed smile as you wrapped your arms around yourself. He was getting caught up in himself, caught up in the fact that you were sitting so close to him. So much so, that it took several moments for the edges of his consciousness to realize you’d begun shivering.

“Are you cold?” he sputtered out, switching dials so that heat flooded the interior. Of course you were cold; by the looks of it, you’d been walking in the rain for awhile.

You were saying something about being fine while he leaned over the shoulder of his seat and reached to the back, grateful to find the hoodie he’d carelessly thrown back days before.

“Here,” he said softly, holding the material out to you. You looked it over, shifting in the leather seat.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you said quickly, “I feel bad—I’ve already—”

“Seriously, (y/n), don’t feel bad. Please take it.” Then, when you hesitated again, “You’re shivering.”

With that signature gentle smile of yours and a quiet, “Thank you,” you accepted the sweatshirt.

He pushed the gear to drive and began pulling away from the curb, trying not to pay much attention as you slipped the clothing over you head, trying not to think about this whiplash-inducing change of events. Not only were you sitting in the front seat of his car, you were also wearing his clothes.

That’s fine.

“Where’s your house?” he asked, feigning calmness. You told him the area and street name and he nodded his head in recognition.

It was silent for a moment, and it was then that he decided he was not going to allow this opportunity to slip away from him. He’d thought about it too many times to let it pass him by due to nerves, so he took an internal deep breath and opened his mouth.

“So, why were walking in weather like this? You didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry.”

He saw the corners of your lips pull up in a little smile out of the corner of his eye.

“I don’t have a car,” you said simply. “I used to, but my dad got in an accident last year and our other one was demolished, so he uses mine to go to work now and I walk. As for the slow pace, I figured taking my time was better than jogging, more-likely-than-not slipping, and then passing out in a puddle in the middle of the sidewalk.”

Jungkook, amused, chuckled unabashedly. Your charm was dragging him in again, as it always did when you spoke in class, or made eye contact with him accidentally and smiled politely before looking away. Everything you did was done to perfection, seemingly easy, controlled, effortless. He didn’t understand how every young man in your school wasn’t in love you, how every person who passed you in the hallway didn’t fall for you, how boys weren’t constantly trying to gain your attention.

“Why’re you headed home so late?”

“I was at the library,” you answered, almost sheepishly. He didn’t see why; he admired your dedication to your grades and studies. “And where were you?”

“Dance rehearsal,” he said, glancing over at you.

“Oh, I love dance,” you gushed, eyes lighting up a bit. Cute. “I can’t do it to save my life—look like a flopping, boneless I don’t know what—but I love dance.”

He laughs again, beyond pleased with how easily you were opening up to him. He’d only ever hoped your first real interaction would unfold in this way.

“Apparently you love studying too?”

You shrugged.

“I just try to stay on top of our work.”

He scoffed lightly. “(y/n), you’re at the top of our class. You don’t have to be humble.”

He adored the light tinge of color of your face due to his attention.

“We have a lot of good students in our grade,” you countered quietly. That just made him smile.

All too soon, your house came into view, and he rolled to a stop in front of your driveway. He leaned back, watching as you gathered your things. Then you paused, meeting his eyes in the dim light, and you smiled.

“Thank you so much, Jungkook. Really, you didn’t have to do all this.”

He shook his head, a little more flustered now that he couldn’t distract himself with driving.

“Again, no problem. I did what anyone else would have done.”

“Maybe,” you allowed, an eyebrow quirking up. “But I don’t think most are as kind as you.”

You made a move to slide out of the car, fingers wrapping around the door handle, preparing to walk out into the rain that had reduced to a mild drizzle.

“Thanks again. And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He managed some kind of response, but by the time you smiled again and shut the door behind you, he didn’t remember what he said. He just sat there, making sure you got inside alright, smiling like an idiot.


Jungkook,” you breathed out in a huff, throwing a pointed stare at him as the car door slammed shut after you. He ignored your tone and passed the coffee to you anyway, which you reluctantly took and cupped in the palms of your hands.

“I told you to stop buying me stuff,” you said as he began driving, but your voice was no longer harsh, just gentle and tired.

“I like buying you stuff,” he responded, and he didn’t care how it sounded because it was true. You looked at him and let out a soft sigh, leaning back against the headrest.

He loved mornings now. You were always quiet, full of soft grins and little stretches. Sometimes he bought you coffee on the way over to pick you up, but that was just to see you smile a little more. You always scolded him for it, but it was less scolding than harmless words of disapproval—always worth it.

The routine that had become the most beloved part of his day had been born out of an instinctual act, entirely unintentional and completely unplanned. The day after the rainstorm, he had walked into advanced math to see that you were already present, and on the way to his seat, you smiled at him.

“Good morning,” you greeted, leaning forward. Relief flooded through him, all his worries of the night prior that the interaction didn’t guarantee you would continue to talk going to rest.

“Is your car alright?” You were smiling.

He nodded, mirroring your expression and adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. “Yeah, all dry now.”

And the conversation continued, right up until the bell. It was easy to talk to you, so easy in fact, that Jungkook didn’t understand why he hadn’t dug up the courage to speak to you in the three years before. And that was why he found himself searching for you after school, offering to drive you home again, and pick you up in the mornings after that. Of course, as he expected, you denied his offer, saying it was too much trouble, but he insisted since your house was only seven minutes away from his.

And that was how your friendship began. He picked you up in the morning and drove you home in the evenings, since you were finished at the library when he finished dance rehearsal. As months passed however, it was a rare occurrence that you went home right away, stopping off to get something to eat or sitting in his car wasting the night away.

Now, he turned off the ignition after pulling into a parking spot in front of school, glancing over at you as you reached toward him, capturing his attention.

Hand warm from the cup you’d cradled throughout the entire drive, you cupped his cheek fondly, smiling as you looked up at him. He was frozen beneath you touch, still so effected by you being you, gazing back at you with an expression he knew was nothing but raw adoration.

“Thank you for the coffee, Kook,” you said softly, and your hand fell from his face. Then you were sliding out of the car, ranting in a mock-angry tone about how he needed to stop spoiling you and how you were going to revolt but refusing to drink the next coffee he bought for you. Jungkook sat, watching you, warmth still blooming along his cheek.

Yes; he was in love with you.


It was one of the rare nights when he didn’t have rehearsal and joined you in the library. Exams were just around the corner, so you both hovered over your textbooks and notes diligently, failing to take account of breaks or mealtime.

You stifled a yawn, the movement catching Jungkook’s eye, causing him to check the time. It was nearly one in the morning.

“I need to take you home,” he said softly, breaking the silence.

You hummed in protest, not even looking up at him as your eyes continued to roam over the lines in your textbook. He bit back a smile, because although you denied it, you were just a bit whiny when you were tired.

He let you have your way, though, and waited twenty minutes more. When he looked up to see your head rested against your hand, eyes closed due to exhaustion, he knew it was time to go. You didn’t shift even slightly as he packed up his things and yours, only moving when he knelt next to your chair and gently pulled your supporting hand away from your head.

The playful glare you shot him was enough to make him laugh in the silent atmosphere of the building, but you stood from your chair anyway, leaning into his side as you walked out to his car.

The drive was quiet, but he didn’t mind. You had this terrible habit of staying awake studying and working long into the morning hours after he dropped you off, and he hated it, so he was relieved that you were actually resting for once.

He helped your sleepy figure up to your front doorstep, at which point you were awake enough to assure him you could get to your room without falling asleep on the stairs. You smiled up at him lazily, and then you were hugging him, your arms wrapping around his middle gently. It was all too easy to pull you closer, rest his cheek on top of your head, close his eyes, and it was all too difficult to let you go.

Yes; he was definitely in love with you.


You really couldn’t dance.

That’s why you laid on the cool floor of Jungkook’s dance studio long after everyone else cleared out, heaving for breath in the midst of cackling over your own lack of skills.

Jungkook watched you, amused and laughing at your recent display of flailing limbs and expressive facials as you tried—without much commitment—to learn the steps of his latest routine.

Finally, you were able to compose yourself enough to stand, staggering on weakened legs. Jungkook stared at you, all traces of laughter disappearing as he took in your current appearance: hair loosened from its position at the top of your head, worn T-shirt, baggy sweatpants, socked feet. And your eyes. Your eyes were scrunched with happiness, absolute glee, free of stress from school and the worries of the world, just content to be there with him.

And he was happy too. He felt emotion bursting from his insides, flooding his system, clouding his vision, and it was then that he realized it was actually love he was feeling, the immense sensation overwhelming him as he stared across at you.

The room was silent, still, and you didn’t move a muscle because he knew you were realizing this was no ordinary moment, but one that could potentially change everything all the same.

And he intended to do so.

He rushed forward, closing the space between you in the span of a few infinite seconds, before delivering something long overdue. His fingers weaved into your hair as he kissed you, drinking in the gasp you let out and thriving in the contact you’d finally established. You kissed him back with just as much passion, encouraging him to push his lips harder against yours, stomach flipping over itself in ecstasy.

When you pulled away just slightly for breath, he didn’t want to stop kissing you, so he didn’t, kissing the corner of you mouth, your left cheek, temple, forehead.

You breathed out his name softly, and he grinned against your skin, finally parting from you to look over your dazed expression.

“Hey,” you said softly after a beat, and he let out a light chuckle at the casual greeting.

“Hey,” he returned, for your benefit.

You turned your head away but he could still see your smile.


The light reflecting off the tile floor in the hallway was temporarily blinding.
Jungkook’s attention was pulled towards the door across from him scraping open. There you were, shoving papers into the bag hanging haphazardly on the hook of your arm. You yanked it up on your shoulder, jumping slightly when your eyes landed on your boyfriend watching you fondly from the far wall.
“I told you not to wait for me,” you said, hooking your arm around his waist as you began walking through the college building.
You’d graduated a year before, dating ever since that warm night in the dance studio, and he’d been waiting outside your classes despite your feeble protests ever since.
He glanced down at you, smiling absentmindedly. And then he was thinking about the fact that he no longer had to watch you from across the hallway. He didn’t have to sneak glances during class or try to hide his grin when he picked you up, bleary eyed and quiet, in the mornings. Now, you were not unreachable.
He didn’t have to look across the hall because now, you were right next to him.
Arm tugging you closer to his chest, he stooped down and pressed his lips to your temple. You smiled up at him, not questioning his actions even in the slightest, just as he pushed the door open and led you outside, leaving the hall silent and still once again.


Undeniable Heat  Chapter 76: On Set

Jensen Ackles X Reader

1300 Words

Story Summary:You’ve just gotten a job as one of the makeup artists on the set of Supernatural. Nervous on the first day, you become completely awkward, winning the affection of the divorced Jensen Ackles. You try to fight your desire for him, but he thwarts you at every turn. Will you be able you separate work and play, or will you let Jensen win?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

Waking up the next morning, Jensen wrapped around you, made you so grateful to be back home. To once again be in your bed, with Jensen with you. Things were beginning to settle back down, turning back into the world you knew and loved.

Knowing you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, you slipped out of bed, quietly making your way down the stairs and into the kitchen. The sun was starting to peak over the trees, lighting up the room as you moved around, getting coffee ready. Humming to yourself, you waited as it percolated, wanting nothing more than to have a cup and relax on your patio. Maybe then you could start planning the wedding that was going to be moved up.

You knew it was the right move. Getting married to Jensen would cement the fact that everything was going back to normal. That you had won, triumphed over the evil that was Brad, and your life was finally your own.

Keep reading

The Mayor and the Colonel

(( @endlcss-possibilities wanted some Damien/Will fluff and I am here to deliver! ))

The kiss was unexpected.

Damien had thrown a party in celebration of becoming Mayor of the city and William had turned up half way through the party with a giant flourish and a large bouquet of flowers. By that point Damien was a little tipsy, but he was extremely happy to see his old friend and hugged William for a long time before other people gained his attention.

William made a toast to Damien, and nearly came close to revealing some secrets that Damien really didn’t want people to know, so he had tackled his friend to the ground to much laughter. Damien ended up underneath William, panting hard and laughing himself as William pinned him down, hands around Damien’s wrists.

“Not a very nice way to silence those you dislike, Mayor.” William teased.

“Who says I dislike you, Colonel?” Damien breathed, smirking up at his friend.

Their faces were inches apart, and with no one else watching, William bent down and kissed Damien. It was short, sweet and Damien felt a stirring in his gut. He wanted more, wanted to pull William down and kiss him harder, but the Colonel refused to release his wrists.

“William.” Damien murmured, wriggling, “Let me go.”

“What are you two doing?!” Another guest laughed, and when attention slowly began to return to them, William slid off Damien, standing up and helping the Mayor to his feet.

“Just having a friendly chat.” Will laughed as he took two more drinks from a passing butler, passing one to Damien, who accepted it happily and knocked it back quickly. His face was extremely red from the kiss, but the majority of his guests believed it was from the alcohol and no one teased him about it.

By the time the party slowly dwindled down, William and Damien were eventually the only two guests left, lying together on a couch in Damien’s living room, William upside down on the couch with his legs hanging over the back and Damien’s head on his chest.

“Why did you kiss me?” Damien asked quietly.

“‘Cause I wanted to.” William chuckled, “You’ve got nice lips.”

“Would you do it again?” Damien asked, shifting and sitting up and pulling William up as well so they were face to face. “Please.”

William didn’t reply, merely jumped forward and brought their lips together. Damien curled his hand into William’s suspenders – and oh how he was glad that the Colonel always wore those under his coat – pulling Will even closer to him. Pushing the Mayor down onto the couch, William straddled him, still kissing and pulling Damien’s hands from his suspenders and pressing them down into the couch. With teeth at his neck, Damien’s back arched and he murmured William’s name, only for his friend to capture his lips again as his hands slid down Damien’s body, pulling his shirt out of his pants and slipping under it.

“Damien,” William whispered, “Do you want this?”

Nodding, Damien pulled William down again for another kiss before wrapping his legs around the Colonel’s waist and hooking him in place.

“So…what’s going on with you and the Colonel?”

Mark asked the question out of the blue and Damien jumped. So engrossed in his work he hadn’t heard Mark come in, let alone his receptionist’s announcement that Mark was there, and the mention of the Colonel had him blushing behind his hands, something that Mark evidently found amusing.

“Good day to you too Mark.” Damien said, “What brings you here?”

“I just told you,” Mark laughed, settling in a seat behind Damien’s desk and crossing one leg over the other. “What’s going on with you and William?”

“What makes you think anything is?” Damien inquired rather defensively, resisting the urge to fix his suit – a sure tell he was nervous.

“Well, whenever I bring him up in conversation, you always steer the conversation to another topic, and I know you haven’t seen each other recently.” Mark replied, “I have my sources, Damien, you can’t hide from me.”

Sighing, Damien rested his head in his hands. “We…may have taken our relationship a step further?”

“How much further? Touching, oral or sex?” Mark inquired as he leaned forward, intrigued and as crude as always.

“Mark please!” Damien exclaimed, “Keep your voice down. The walls in this place have ears and there are some things I don’t want people to know.”

“Sorry,” Mark grinned, “So…how far?”


“Are you serious?!” Mark cried and Damien shot him a scathing look. “Sorry,” He whispered, “But you’re serious?”

“Yes I’m serious.” Damien huffed, “Why would I lie about that specifically? Honestly Mark it’s not that big a deal I mean-.”

“But you have feelings for him.” Mark interupted, “Does he know?”

“Of course not!”

“Why not?!”

“Well he clearly does not want anything with strings attached? Otherwise he would have…been in touch I suppose?” Damien trailed off. He hoped that wasn’t the case, but the evidence for it was strong.

Mark rolled his eyes. “Please, he’s probably trying to protect your image.”

“What do you mean?”

“Damien, you’ve just been elected Mayor. Your rivals will be looking for anything they can use to bury you, and you getting into a relationship with the Colonel will definitely be that thing. William is probably thinking of your career and not your heart. Go and speak to him, you’ll see I’m right.” Mark explained, exasperated and like he was talking to a child.

“Because you always are.” Damien added sarcastically, but the knowing smile Mark gave him told him that Mark knew Damien was going to follow his advice.

William happily came for a visit to Damien’s house, bringing some of his favourite port which Damien stored for later. He didn’t want to be drunk for this confrontation. First, he would have to ask William about Celine. It was a sore subject William, but Damien needed to know.

“How is Celine?” He asked casually as he poured wine for the two of them. William paused before he took the glass and shrugged.

“She’s fine. You could talk to her yourself you know.” He murmured.

“I suppose. But you know what I mean William.” Damien muttered.

Silence fell between them before William sighed. “We’re not seeing each other Damien. We haven’t been for a while.”


“Why are you asking?” William pressed.

“Well…I was thinking about the night of the party.” Damien said after a moment, keeping his back to William and gripping the wine glass tightly. He waited for William’s response, and jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, slowly spinning him until he was face to face to William, who was smiling softly.

“Is that’s what’s been bothering you?” The Colonel laughed, “Oh Damien, you should have told me, I was waiting for you to make a move. You know, make sure you could take that step because of your position.”


So, Mark had been right. He was going to be happy about that when Damien inevitably told him.

“So…can I ask where this is going?” He asked softly.

“Wherever you want it to.” William murmured, taking Damien’s wine glass and setting it aside to draw the Mayor closer.

With his breath hitching slightly, Damien smiled and leaned forward to kiss William. “As far as we can take it.” He replied, wrapping his arms around William’s waist. “Forever.”

“Bully.” Colonel grinned, pushing Damien against the nearest wall for a deep kiss.

Whisky Secrets - John Shelby

Hello, can I please request a John Shelby imagine which involves him and the reader being really flirting and some kissing at a club? So, they’re supposed to be best friends but the alcohol is causing them to being all touchy, basically exposing their true feelings that they’ve tried to hide. Thank you x

The remaining quarter of a bottle of whisky sits between us. I’d like to think that John had drank most of it, although I’m not sure that’s true. It doesn’t feel like we’ve been sat chatting together for long but the rest of our parties seem to have returned home or busied themselves at the bar, leaving the two of us alone.

“Remember that time at school when you were trying to balance along the dividing wall of the playground and you got your dress caught on the railings?” John says through snorts and fits of laughter.

“Oh fuck, you still remember that?” I reply, scrunching my face up to bat away the image.

“Course I do! You flashed your knickers for the whole boys side of the school!”

“I got a proper beating for that and all when we got called back in. Miss Lucile, you remember her? She had me at the front of the classroom and showed everyone my ripped dress. ‘See this girls, this is what you get for trying to flaunt yourselves to the boys!’” I say, imitating her accent and tone that anyone who’d met her would be able to distinguish. “It was fucking horrible! She had me stood there for two lessons with my knickers out! And then I got a walloping at home for ripping my dress.”

“Yet you still flaunt yourself around the boys don’t you?” John says with a smirk.

“Yes, well, I got better at it didn’t I?”

There’s a look behind his eyes, a gaze that lingers too long, that makes my stomach flip over. A feeling so foreign around John that I almost think I’m going to be sick. But when he smiles at me I realise that it’s not nausea that’s turning my stomach, but nerves. That nervous excitement when a bloke looks at you like you’re all he’s ever wanted and it takes all my restraint, and a harsh telling from myself that this is John, not to lean in and kiss him. Regardless of my drunken feelings, John is a friend first and foremost, and an important person to keep on my side. Considering his family’s rapidly strengthening grip on the city it would do no good to make a move, especially when it wouldn’t be reciprocated. He leans forward to top up our glasses with whisky, his hand resting on my thigh as he does so - although he needs no steadying or leverage - and when he returns to his seat it lingers, his skin warm through the, albeit, thin fabric of my dress. I glance and his hand, his fingers as they flex against my leg, drawing his attention with it. He doesn’t move away though and for second, when he flicks his eyes back to mine, I think he’s going to make the bold move of leaning in for a kiss.

“What about that time you-“

“Oh John! Can we stop with the embarrassing stories?” I whine and he slides his hand from my leg.

“Well, I dunno. I mean, there’s so many of them.”

“And of course the famous John Shelby is perfect in every single way and has never done an embarrassing thing in his life.”

“Things are only embarrassing if you get embarrassed by them, and I have no shame,” he says as if it’s something to be proud of.

Normally I’d drag the conversation out more, any excuse to relieve some of his less dignified moments, but I can’t focus on anything other than the spot where his hand had been resting, now cold without the warmth of his skin. He sees me glance down and I catch him smirk, although the accompanying smarmy comment I’m expecting never comes. Instead, he slides a little closer to me so now our legs touch, playing it off as a repositioning to better reach the bottle of whisky, and the closeness knocks me as if I’ve been kicked in the chest by a horse. I’d never considered John in a romantic light before; although undeniably handsome, funny and charming, I’d played off any twinge of attraction with the acknowledgement that it was bound to happen, that no one could spend so much time in such close proximity to someone as good looking as John without the occasional impure thought entering their heads. But now, emboldened by the whisky, I want nothing more than for those thoughts to become a reality.

“You look good by the way,” John says, his voice thick as if it’s a struggle to get his words out, his gaze flicking between my lips and my eyes as he leans slowly, cautiously, towards me.

Although I know it’s a bad idea, every fibre of my body is begging me to close the gap between us, to place my lips on John’s and release whatever tension has been building between us tonight. There aren’t that many people in the pub and those who are still here are too drunk to notice what we do in this dark corner, and too self centred to care even if they could. Before I have time to dwell any more on the subject, John presses his lips to mine, gently at first as if he’s testing the boundaries of our friendship, but when I reciprocate -sliding a hand around the back of his neck to keep him close - he doubles his efforts and I realise that maybe, John had been harbouring the same uncouth thoughts I had been; imagining the feel of my lips on his, how it would feel to roam his hands over my body, to thread his fingers through my hair and wrap my legs around his waist.

We were friends, but for tonight I vowed to enjoy this, consequences be damned.

Is This What You Wanted Part 5

Pairings: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol consumption 

Word Count: 728

Request: Tony stark x reader? One where they’ve been dating for a while but he gets stand offish putting his walls up so she confronts him.. he tells her he’s afraid to love again because he doesn’t want his heart broken cause of everything he’s been through. She promises she’s not going anywhere and she asks him to marry her.

Summary: Tony all of a sudden starts distancing himself from you and your relationship, leaving you to wonder what it is you did.

A/N: Done, the last part to this little saga !!Thanks so much for the request Sweetheart, I hope this is what you wanted because I had a real blast writing this story !! xx


Six months later…

Tony’s birthday party was in full swing, the tower seemingly filled with the entire population of New York, everyone drinking, dancing and having a good time. I was sitting at the bar, swirling around the vodka lemonade in my glass while repeatedly checking the time on my phone. To say I was nervous would have been an understatement, I’d never felt more truly terrified than I did right now.

“How you holding up?” Tash asked as she took a seat on the stool besides me. “It’s almost time.”
“I don’t think I can do this,” I stammered out, downing the rest of my drink in two large mouthfuls. “What if he says no?”
“He isn’t going to say no, just take a deep breath and stop over thinking about this.”
“You’re right, I need to just get it over with.”

Standing up I smoothed out my dress, giving Natasha and expectant look.
“Maybe try a smile?” She chuckled, standing up to give me a quick hug. “Go get him tiger.”
I took a deep breath, forcing a smile onto my face as I turned to look for Tony through the throng of people grinding up against one another on the dance floor. He wasn’t hard to spot, he liked being the center of attention, especially at his own party.

Ignoring the way my stomach rolled uncomfortably I walked towards him, trying desperately to keep my expression in check as my heart thudded rapidly inside my chest. This was easily the scariest thing I had ever done in my entire life and there was a part of me that wanted to just forget the whole thing, maybe leave the party and hide under my duvet; but the other part wanted this.

As I got closer Clint tapped Tony on the shoulder, pointing over at me while saying something that I couldn’t quite hear. My expression must not have been as neutral as I hoped because Tony looked up straight away, a frown replacing the wide grin he’d been wearing just before. Handing off his scotch glass to Bruce he moved towards me, cupping my cheeks with his hands.
“Everything alright?” He asked, leaning forward so I had a better chance at hearing him.
“Yeah…yes, everything is fine,” I replied. “Can we talk somewhere quieter maybe?”

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Every Day (Part 3) - Calum Hood

Thank you to everyone who requested a part 3! I got over 20 messages of requests and feedback so thank you :) Here’s the last and final part, enjoy!

Part 1 

Part 2 

SUMMARY: Somehow along the lines of their relationship, Calum and Y/N fuck up and Y/N is tired of a failing relationship lingering on. She ends things but Calum is dumbfounded and tries to fix it with constant pleading. She doesn’t budge and so Calum’s logical idea is to send her a bouquet of flowers every day for every day that he loves her. 

It’s been about 10 days since you last received flowers. 10 days waiting to see if there would be something at your front door but there was nothing. You thought about calling him or texting him, but what would you say? “Hey where are my flowers?”

You were at constant war with your thoughts. The moment you called it quits with Calum you thought you were making the right decision but now you were missing him. You missed his Australian accent, you missed him hogging the blanket every morning making you crawl into his arms for warmth, you missed him holding your hand, you missed dancing and singing in the car with him, you missed laying with him with your back against his chest, you missed everything. But you were being stubborn and something inside you kept holding you back on calling him.

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