no i'm awful as him but this oh god my neck

in a fashion

he tian x mo guan shan one-shot

tags: swearing, kissing (you know the game they play), set in the future, he tian and guan shan live together in domestic bliss (ha)

synopsismy train was delayed yesterday and i was bored and don’t know what this is but enjoy?


‘Someone’s been baking,’ He Tian says, pleased, tasting sugar and rosemary on Guan Shan’s lips. The apartment smells warm and sweet, a new version of home that is crafting itself out of sense, though the space is unchanged but for the suitcase at the bottom of He Tian’s wardrobe, the cooking appliances starting to fill the kitchen surface, and Guan Shan, stretched out on the sofa and flicking through a magazine.

‘Get off me,’ Guan Shan says, head turned, the kiss broken, hands a pressure on He Tian’s chest, nails pressing into the white shirt. ‘You stink of cigarettes.’

‘People at work were smoking,’ He Tian says. ‘It’s not from me.’  But he pulls away, slightly stung, unfolding himself from where he’d rested a knee and a hand on the sofa, curved himself around Guan Shan’s repose.

He’d promised he’d give it up for his health, but Guan Shan must know it’s easier said than done; he knows He Tian holds a cigarette bracketed between his fingers like a compact life-line. Something to wrap his lips around in lieu of letting words slip from his mouth.  

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Bowling date

Characters: Jeongguk & You 

Genre: fluff fluff fluff (i was supposed to write something else but watching his vlive distracted me and apparently i haven’t written fluff with him before)

Words: 2422

Summary: Jungkook is trying to be cool but fails (because he’s too cute for his own good) featuring you trying to impress him with you non-existing bowling skills.

Originally posted by jjks

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End || Bucky x Reader

Summary → After discovering Bucky’s affair with none other than The Black Widow, you feel the need to confront the situation and walk away. 

Word Count → 1.3K

Warnings → Cursing, implied sex/smut, mostly just really angsty!

A/N → Based on this request: “Do you think you could write a Bucky x Reader where he leaves her for Natasha or another woman, and with “ When you realise that you made a mistake, don’t come looking for me ” please ? Angst and maybe fluff if possible ? I love your writing !” Been doing a lot of angst lately, which I surprisingly enjoy? Let me know what y’all think!

“You know, I would have come straight to Bucharest, if you had bothered to pick up any of my calls. Or answered any of my text messages.”

The trademark jet-black knapsack that had somehow become permanently entangled with Bucky slipped through his metal digits, landing with light thud against the hardwood floor. Even from beneath his navy ball cap, Bucky’s gaze was sharp, inspecting you with an expression that bred uncertainty and worry in the pit of your stomach. You remained misty-eyed as you watched the enormous man approach you with caution, somehow entirely different than the man you remembered; the man you had once fallen hopelessly in love with.

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Reggie Mantle x Reader: Finding a Date.

A/N: Warning, this fic is garbage. Read with caution bc I swear I need help. *Reader is best friends with Cheryl Blossom and good friends with Ethel Muggs… and literally everyone. You’re a fan of Overwatch and a low-key cosplayer, bruh. (I’m sorry, it’s a Halloween party might as well) ((Using she/her pronouns mostly bc I suck at writing, I just wanted to give Reggie more love and I failed)) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N, you’re going to come to my Halloween party whether you like it or not. I’m not having one of my River Vixens mope and become a homebody.” Mentally screaming, I sighed and joined Cheryl as she stretched before the other girls came for practice. Cheryl Blossom’s been my best friend since we were kids. “Rich Kid Squad”, but I didn’t like hanging out with those other preppy shits. Jason and Cheryl were the only exception… They had my back and I had theirs in ways they never knew they needed. Since her twin brother’s death, I’ve done my best to help her cope. I guess my way of helping her is just being there and… joining the River Vixens.


“I already am, Cheryl, you know already that parties aren’t my kind of thing.” I replied, stretching my arms until I heard a satisfying pop from my elbow. Cheryl visibly cringed at the sound and continued to scold me like I was her child.


“Oh, please Y/N. You’re going and it’s final.”
She snapped at me and led me to the bleachers and sat down, patting the spot next to her.

“If you insist.” I sighed dejectedly. ‘My loot boxes will have to wait then… Daddy will have to wait,’ I thought to myself and tried to think of better days to lock myself in my room and level up on Overwatch with Reaper as my main.


“I know you’re thinking about your video games again, so I’ll make you a deal,” I stopped moping and stared at her, beckoning her to continue her sudden proposal because knowing Cheryl there’s always a catch.


“You can bring your video games and set up in the main hall,” I was about to scream. ‘Is she for real? Oh my gosh and she has a good wifi connection, a night without lagging! Huzzah!’


“But!” She interjected my notion. ‘Fuck my life, I knew it was too good to be true.’


“You have to dress up.” I scoffed and stood up straight. “You’re kidding, right? That’s it?”


“Yeah, why?” ‘That’s too easy, cosplaying is easy as pie Miss Cheryl. What’s really going on?’


“Cheryl, I know you. What’s the catch?”


“Okay fine, you have to bring a date and wear matching costumes.”


“Cheryl Blossom, you know I can’t talk to guys! What am I going to do? I’ve never been on a date, why are you doing this? Oh my God… I’m going to throw up.” I held my stomach, butterflies fluttering inside of me at the thought of asking a guy out.


“Y/N, calm down it’s not a big deal-”


“Uh, Cheryl yes. It IS a huuuuge deal! You know I hate talking to guys!”


“But, you talk to so many on that stupid video game chat whatever it is?”


“That’s different, they can’t see me.”


“Y/N. Listen up, you’re going to ask someone to the party and wear matching costumes. I’ll make sure to have the flat screen and your favorite snacks ready for you when you come, okay?”


“Fine… I’ll do it.”


“Good. And you don’t even have to hang out with him the whole night.”


“Well, that defeats the purpose of even having a date, but okay…”, tossing the conversation aside as the girls came into the gym, ready for cheerleading practice and more of Cheryl’s drama.


“Yup. Alright ladies, line up. We have to perfect this routine by tonight and if it’s not, we’ll be staying late so let’s get going.”

_____


“Who do I even ask? I don’t even talk to any guys other than Archie, Kevin and Jughead. Archie’s going with Betty, Veronica asked Kevin and I highly doubt that Jughead would want to go to a party for Halloween, he’ll probably be working on his novel.” I ranted to Ethel Muggs, she’s my study partner for Chemistry and Statistics. Ethel laughed and quickly copied my notes from a day she missed when she was sick. We were in the library and it was just us two and the librarian and she didn’t mind us chatting away, we were her assistants so we were in the clear.


“I don’t know. At least you were invited.” I froze at that thought. ‘Dang it, I should’ve been more considerate. It’s Ethel, why am I so stupid? …Wait.’


“You wanna be my date?!” I blurted out. Her eyes widened and she shook her head no.


“No no no no Y/N, I am good as done. I don’t want to be anywhere near those dumb jocks.”

I sighed and nodded my head in understanding, she’s had it rough the past year and I should’ve known better.


“This is gonna suck so badly. I just wanted to spend the night with Daddy and-” Ethel cut my rant short.


“Daddy? Who’s that?” I froze. Did I really say Daddy out loud? In front of Ethel?


“Um… He’s no one, forget I said anything.” Flustered, I tried changing the subject. I felt the heat creep up my neck. ‘Damn my abilities to blush, it’s not cute!!’


“Y/N, I don’t know. Sounds interesting and kinky, if you ask me. Spill the beans, Y/N/N.” Her grin teasing me whilst she shuffled her papers around into a neat pile.


“Oh my gosh! Okay, he’s a character from this game I’m playing, it’s called Overwatch.”


“Wow… Didn’t expect a rich and preppy cheerleader like you to be the gamer chick type, I’m a bit surprised but not really because I saw those books in your bag. If I’m correct, those are called ‘manga’, right?” I blushed heavily and covered my face.


“I am not preppy! I’m a disgusting nerd. Don’t look at me.” Ethel laughs and starts packing her stuff.


“Well, thanks for the notes and I hope you find someone to take because God forbid you get on Cheryl’s bad side for not bringing a date.” I shook my head lightly as I chuckled, “Yeah, it’s no problem Ethel. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She smiled and walked out of the library, leaving me alone with Mrs. Walker.


“You mind closing up today, Y/N?” She asked and tossed me the keys. I smiled and nodded yes to her.


“Yes, no worries Mrs. Walker. I’ll just study for a few more minutes before I go.”


“Thank you, sweetie. Have a nice day and good luck finding someone for the party.” She shuffled her way out the double doors and left me alone. Me and the books.


I stared down at my neat stack of chem worksheets and statistics notebooks and let out a deep sigh. 'I shouldn’t be stressing over something so small… Wait, did I pack my pepper spray?’


Ever since Jason’s death, my parents insisted that I carry a can of pepper spray. They even went as far as buying five bottles for me, wrapped with the instructions.


A thud broke me from my thoughts and I looked around. 'I'm… the only one in here, right?’


Reaching into my bag, I searched my bag for the small spray can. “Aw dang nabbit.” Opting for a No. 2 pencil, I rose from the desk and made my way towards where the sound came from.


“Hello?” I called out. 'Wow, am I dumb? I’m that stupid dumb bitch that gets killed in every horror movie that goes towards the danger.’


I heard another thud and a small scuffle, I stood behind a bookshelf holding the pencil firmly in my hand against my chest. 'Lord, please help me now.’


The scuffling grew louder and sounded like it was getting closer to me.


“AAAAHHHH!!!” I shouted, swinging my arm everywhich way prepared to stab whatever was there.


“OH SHIT! WAIT, STOP!” A firm grip caught my wrist and in a panic, I clenched my eyes shut and swung my leg at my assailant and kicked them, I don’t even know where.


“Ow… shit, you kick hard.” Realizing whose voice it was, I opened my eyes and yanked my arm away from him. 'Neighbor boy?’

Out of all the guys in Riverdale, I hadn’t thought of HIM to ask. 'It’s not like we talk so?’


“Reginald, what the heck are you doing in here? The library is closed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N: this is pretty much trash lmao but im turning it into a two or three-shot idk but yeah… it’s not good so I’M SORRY GUYS 😭
Blessing in Disguise (part 3)

Words: 1.9k

Summary: You and Misha individuality pine over the other; assuming they would never feel the same way.

Warnings: RPF AU, language, smut (male masturbation, mentions of oral sex and fingering)

A/N: This is an RPF AU, so we can assume Vicki is happy somewhere else. Constructive feedback is always appreciated. If you’d like to be added to my master tag list, send me an ask or DM.

—————

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” Misha groaned against the soft skin of your neck. “I can’t believe I get to honor of being the first to have you like this.”

Your nervous giggle turned into a breathy moan as his hand dipped into your panties. “Misha…”

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chrichardrachtle  asked:

Hi! First of all, I would really like to thank you for every single bit you have written for this fandom, you're amazing. I don't know if you take prompts right now, but there's one that has stuck with me over the years and since you're my favorite fanfic writer it would mean so much if you wrote it! Here it is; setup/countdown takes place after 47 seconds. Again thanks for everything! Love, Emma

He’s so stiff against her, his arm like a vise around her shoulders, his chest like a board beneath her cheek, and she doesn’t believe it’s all wholly from the cold.

“Castle?” she calls, her voice raspy, trembling through the ice in her lungs, up the chilled hollow of her throat. “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m right - right here,” he answers with chattering teeth, and at least he’s still shivering, still feeling enough to shake. 

She stopped trembling quite a while ago.

Kate attempts a breath, does her best to open her eyes that continue to fall closed, and uses what little strength she has to lift her hand from his chest, touch her fingers to his chin.

There’s so much she wants to say, but it’s been so different between them lately, so devastating, and he’s made it clear that whatever they once had, whatever chance they had at becoming more, is gone. But she refuses to die with words unspoken, to sin by silence - as he’d not so subtly accused her of - even as it burns to scrape the confessions out of her mouth.

“Thank you. For being there,” she rasps, the slow beat of her heart exalting for a brief moment when his head bows ever so slightly, his lips grazing the frozen tips of her fingers.

The pressure of his arm around her increases just a little more and she hums in approval. “Always.” 

And the sound of that word - their word - one she honestly never expected to hear again, not from him, has a small chunk of the ice encasing her heart melting away, allowing it a little extra time to continue beating.

“I just want - need you to know how much I love you.”

His entire body shudders beneath her and then he’s shifting, tugging her in closer. 

“W-what?” he gets out, one of his hands rising to her face, stroking at her cheek, and she fights so hard to feel it, to stay awake for it, but she’s fading too quickly.

“Love. You,” she manages, the encrusted ice coating her lashes weighing down her eyelids, but she forces another blink, has to see the crisp blues of his eyes staring down at her, the bitter shade of grey she had become so used to softening into the cerulean she’d so greatly missed. The way he’s looking at her now the only source of warmth she has left. “Missed you. Love you.”

“Oh, Kate,” he rasps, his hand clumsy at her cheek, his lips useless at her forehead. “You def-definitely can’t pass out on me now.”

She hums, but her eyes are falling closed, sleep so near-

Castle’s mouth touches her, his chapped lips scraping against hers, the heat of his tongue sparking at her bottom lip. And it has her neck aching, cracking, but she lifts her head, parts her lips, and mm, for a moment, gentle frissons of heat and clarity thawing away some of the ice. 

But not enough.

“Come on, Kate,” he mumbles, his lips brushing hers as he speaks, his breath a fraction warmer, burning her cold lips. “Stay with me this time.”

She tries to press in closer, but - but it’s all black and heavy and she can’t see anything anymore.

“Kate, open your eyes. Please, I - I love you too. You know I love you. You have to-”

“Good silver lining,” she mumbles, drifting off against his shoulder. “Not - so bad like this.”

And it isn’t, being allowed to remain curled against him in the snow, to fade slowly into the warm darkness with his love in her ear. Better than the bullet she would have expected to kill her at its next chance.

His cheek hits the top of her head, the last thing she feels, and she sighs out a final breath of contentment.

-

He emerges from the ambulance with a matching blanket around his shoulders and she manages a smile for him, unsure of how much he remembers from the freezer, if karma has come for her and erased her love from his mind as she had done with his a near year ago. 

But despite the hypothermia she knows he’s suffering from, Castle strides up to her with purpose, the blanket slipping from his shoulders once he reaches her and lifts his hands to her face.

Kate breathes a sigh of relief into his mouth when he kisses her, no preamble or hesitation, only the certain press of his lips spreading heat through the chilled parts of her. 

He reluctantly pulls back at the whistles from Ryan and Esposito, but Beckett arches on her toes, swallows his quiet groan as she sucks on his upper lip. 

“You really love me,” he mumbles, staining the statement against her lips, question and awe in his voice, and Kate nods her head. 

“Yes,” she breathes, opening her eyes to see into the ones looking down at her. “Wasn’t just a deathbed confession.”

“Neither was mine,” he murmurs, narrowing his gaze on her as his thumbs stroke along her cheeks. “I love you too, Kate.”

Her mouth spreads into a smile that she seals to his, one of her hands abandoning the clutch of her blanket to cup the back of his neck-

“Hey, lovebirds,” Fallon calls with a snap of his fingers and Beckett sighs, presses a final kiss to the corner of Castle’s mouth before descending back to the balls of her feet. “Hate to interrupt the celebration of survival here, but we’ve got work to do.”

“After,” Castle whispers, his hands slipping down to her shoulders, squeezing warmth into her stiff bones.

“After,” she echoes, splaying her hands at his sides and biting down on her bottom lip to conceal the smirk curling there. “Won’t ever let you feel cold again while you’re with me.”

Lovely embers of heat spark through his eyes and Castle leans in to push a hard kiss to her mouth. 

“Thank god we lived.”

She breathes a laugh against his lips before she draws back, steals his hand from her shoulder and twines their fingers, grateful for the warmth, the ability to feel the fit of his hand in hers and the flame that travels through her veins, heating her blood. 

“Hurry, Beckett,” he murmurs, dragging her along with him towards Agent Fallon. “The quicker we save the city, the quicker you get to warm me up.”

as the poets say

Fandom Writing Challenge || caaelum 
prompt: flowers
fandom / pairing: voltron / sheith
word count: 1181
tags: high school au - modern setting, friends to lovers, promposal, so much fluff someone stop me

summary: honestly, keith is more surprised at the fact he’d forgotten just how cheesy shiro could be than at the fact shiro is asking him to prom. in front of his entire first period class. like the cheesy romantic dork he is. 

author’s note: my cousin is the cheesiest person i know and this is all his fault

friend tags // @ushiiwakas @cryingcryptids @scientiaa 

[ao3]

Keith is tossing his unneeded textbooks into his locker with a yawn when he sees Lance sidling up to him from the corner of his eye, smirk in place. He doesn’t bother to hide his groan, and Lance just smirks harder.

“Soooo,” Lance drawls, and Keith groans louder and more dramatically. “You got a date for prom yet, loverboy?”

The way Lance waggles his eyebrows suggestively like he knows something makes Keith’s own eyebrow twitch in annoyance. God, the first bell hasn’t even rung yet. “It is too early for your bullshit, Lance,” he says, shutting his locker with more force than necessary. He smirks when Lance flinches with a yelp. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” Lance says amicably, following Keith as he turns away to head to his first class. “Because I am obviously not talking about the huge crush you have on Mr. Most Popular who sits two seats in front of you in AP Physics, who you never stop staring at, while making the most pathetically sad pining puppy eyes I have literally ever seen. And I’m dating a literal puppy.”

Keith raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I thought he was a bear last time you described him as an animal.”

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anonymous asked:

I'm a sucker for angst and you guy never fail to deliver XD the bosses (ttsuna, dino, byakuran) trying to cheat on their SO because they are scared of how deep in love they are but failing??

COMPLETE

I take no responsibility for the anger and pain that you may experience because of this ask.

// Admin Chrome

~

Tsuna:

It really was a spur-of-the-moment impulse. Tsuna was not someone who could hold himself back from temptation all that well, so seeing this beautiful woman stroll pass him, her long legs on display in all their glory, was a sin waiting to happen. Your face briefly flickered into his mind, your alluring smile that had him captivated by you from the start was shining at him, sending a sinking feeling deep down in his gut.

The guilt was washed away by the whiskey in his hand.

Seducing the young woman was easy. A sexy smirk and a peek at his Rolex watch had her sitting in his lap in record time. They had went to a hotel to keep the affair from the others, where Tsuna unconsciously compared every twist and arch of pleasure to you.

The woman’s voice was lighter and higher than yours, but it was unpleasant to Tsuna’s ears. Your moans and cries of pleasure were music to his ears, yet this woman’s noises were mediocre compared to yours. The places he touched you to make you squirm and whimper had no affect on this woman. It was honestly frustrating.

After the affair was over (the woman had given Tsuna her number, yet he left the piece of paper in the trash pin while the woman slept), Tsuna returned home to you. The mansion was quiet when he entered, and he removed his coat, giving it to the butler that greeted him at the entrance.

It was eating him up. Tsuna never regretted anything in his life. However, when you had walked in to greet him, the way your eyes traveled over his form, how your smile didn’t reach your eyes anymore, hit him right in the heart. Your usually enticing lips trembled with hidden anguish, your beautiful, glowing eyes had lost their light.

Tsuna was terrified of losing you.

He didn’t want to acknowledge his feelings before. He loved you so much. Everything about you made him want to protect you and keep you all to himself. It only showed now that he had fucked up your relationship.

“[Name], I-” His voice had barely managed to come out, before your hand had silenced him.

“I-I think we need to talk…” Your words had shattered his heart.

Yet, Tsuna knew he deserved it.

Dino:

Her eyes were nothing like yours. Your eyes were beautiful, and your emotions flashed through them as if there was a movie playing right there in the irises. The flecks of colors always had Dino in awe, and he could go hours staring into your eyes. That’s how much he adored them.

Her body never compared to yours. You had soft and delicate skin, and he loved brushing his hands over it. Dino always took pleasure in dragging his lips around your stomach, watching the muscles twitch and hearing you laugh was music to his ears.

Why was he here? Why was he laying in his bed with a woman other than you? Dino loved you so much, there should be no reason to be having a sexual encounter with anyone other than you. The thought of you walking in on them was enough to make Dino’s heart jump to his throat. He didn’t want to see that betrayed expression on your face.

As the girl’s cherry red lips sucked at his neck, Dino realized that he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t fuck another woman, and expect everything to be okay afterwards. Your face kept popping up into his mind as his hands roamed the other woman’s body, his lips sealed onto hers.

Pushing the woman off of him, Dino let out a frustrated sigh. He wasn’t supposed to fall so deep into you. He was supposed to pull himself out of your light before it was too late. Someone like Dino didn’t deserve to be in the presence of someone so pure and warm like you. Mafia bosses were supposed to be cold and ruthless killers, who were doomed to be alone for all eternity.

But, Dino realized, he wasn’t willing to let you go. You were his Persephone, Dino was going to drag you to hell with him so you could be together forever, whether you liked it or not.

“Where are you going, baby?” The woman’s voice halted his thoughts, her fingertips dragging down his arm as Dino sat on the edge of the bed. Dino smacked her hand away, standing up from his seat. Grabbing his pants, he pulled the black slacks on, fastening the belt back around his waist,

“I obviously don’t need you anymore, please leave.” His voice was cold, the iciness of it making the woman freeze. Her hands turned into fists on the comforter, bundling up the fabric.

“Wow, so you were just using me? Why don’t I go tell that pretty little girl of yours how you just had your tongue down my thro-” Her sentence wasn’t even finished before Dino had his hand around her throat, cutting off her oxygen.

“Don’t even step anywhere near her, you filthy whore.” A dark atmosphere settled into the room, the woman clawing at Dino’s fingers. After a few more seconds, he finally let go, her gasps filling the room as air was circulating in her lungs again.

Before anything else could continue, the door creaked open. There you were, wide eyed, staring at Dino, before they singled out the girl on the bed, coughing her lungs out. You rushed over.

“What the hell, Dino? What did you do? Oh my god, are you okay?” Your worried voice was all Dino could register. You were on the bed in seconds, patting the girl on the back. Dino reached out to you, intending to pull you away from her.

“Don’t touch me.” You whispered, not looking at Dino.

Dino wanted to cry.

Byakuran:

Byakuran, at first, wanted to see your reaction. Wanted to witness you burst into tears and scream and curse at him. Byakuran told himself that it was because he was tired of you, but really, he just wanted to be able to see all your expressions and actions. He wanted to be the only one who had witnessed all these sides to you.

Seeing your face turn red with humiliation, the way your eyes filled to the brim with tears, and how they trailed down your face gave Byakuran a burst of pride. You were saying something, yet Byakuran didn’t process it. The woman beside him was hurriedly trying to cover herself up, hiding behind Byakuran’s naked body on the bed.

A smirk started to spread across his face, his voice still calm and smooth.

“Why didn’t you knock first, [Name]? How rude of you.” Your hands were balled into fists, your nails digging into your skin. Your body was visibly trembling, and the tears were nonstop. There was no suppressing the flinch when Byakuran got up off the bed, his naked body full on display, and grabbed one of your wrists.

“I’m sorry, I really wish you hadn-” Your fist connected with Byakuran’s face, blood gushing out of his nose, and running down his face. A curse burst from his mouth, and he hurriedly held his broken nose.

“Don’t ever come near me again, don’t call me, or even think of me. We are over.” You wiped at your face, and turned out the door, slamming it shut in Byakuran’s face. He was left there, with an angry yet anxious feeling in his gut.

What do you mean you’re breaking up with him? That’s not how it was supposed to happen. You were supposed to scream and cry, yet you would ultimately forgive him. The feeling started to claw up from his stomach, going to his throat, making it hard to breath.

You weren’t supposed to leave. You were his.

Byakuran wanted to puke, like he was being crushed by the cold, hard reality of it all. It felt as if he was being dragged down into a black abyss, and he was so desperately trying to claw his way back up to the light. But, there was no more light anymore. He was surrounded by darkness now, and he was only now realizing that he really had loved you so much.

Undisclosed Desires (part 12- finale)

Words: 1.8k

Summary: You and Castiel return to the bunker and try to patch things up with the Winchesters.

Warnings: Nothing, unless you need a fluff warning

A/N: This is a tentative finale. I like the relationship between the reader and Cas, so I may add little drabbles here and there. Constructive feedback is always appreciated. If you’d like to be added to my master tag list, just shoot me an ask or DM.

—————

You had spent the last week and a half spending time with Castiel in that motel room with Castiel and it had been one of the best times of your life. You had almost decided that it wasn’t worth getting dressed since Castiel wouldn’t let you keep your clothes on very long anyways; not that you minded.

“Well, Cas.” you said with a beaming smile. “I think we’re done here.”

He stood up straight and tall and rolled his shoulders, letting his raven colored wings flutter behind him. For the first time in years, he felt like a real angel again. He turned to you and smiled; you noticed he had been doing that more and more recently.

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come home // nurseydex

a/n: thank u to everyone who reblogged/commented/responded to in any way my last fic!! it was so nice to read and i’m gonna try to publish scraps of stuff more often. anyways - 4.7k about nursey getting mugged and boys being domestic. 

7:47

Dex gets the call in the middle of a nap and despite seeing the ridiculous shirtless selfie  of Nursey in Ransom’s white Snapback flash across his screen, he answers the call, mumbling a bleary and vaguely frustrated “hello?” into the mouthpiece. If this is another rant about Jeff Bezos, he swears to fucking god–

“Uh… hey, Will.”

Will?

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BTS / Bangtan Boys
Pairing: Jung Hoseok (J-Hope) / Min Yoongi (Suga) - Yoonseok
Rating: G
Length: 2200 something words
Keywords: Fluff, Friends to lovers, College AU, Roommates AU, Video games
Crossposted on AO3  

Prompt (by @bbyhobie) : Person A & B are roommates that love playing video games. As a joke, their friends get them The Sims. They make a family with all their friends and they get married ironically—but then they get super into it.

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Nalu Smut

Summary: Natsu and Lucy decide to spend the night together, but who knew they’d be making love in Lucy’s garden shed? Contains sexual themes and SMUTTINESS. 
Rated: M 
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Fairy Tail. 


“Natsu..” She whimpered, her pink plump lips parted as her pants gradually grew stronger, the sweat cascading down her skin that shone in the glimmering moonlight.

The smell of each other’s scents in the air, as her body bobbed up and down, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he roughly bucked his hips against hers. Their moans and grunts echoing the small room, as both bodies were entangled in each other. Their breaths quickening as one moved quicker, the other pinned against the wall. Clothes lay crumpled on the floor, eventually forgotten.

“N-Natsuuu..” She cried softly, gripping his hair as an act of begging him to quicken the pace, which he so torturously gave. He grunted, opening his onyx eyes to absorb the glorious bare body of the woman who writhed beneath him, moaning her sweet moans that escaped her assaulted lips in desperation. The droplets of sweat, glistening, as she arched her back, allowing him full view of her voluptuous chest that begged for attention.

The hunger and lust in his eyes grew, until he eventually gave in to his instinct, allowing himself to relentlessly pleasure her and his desires. Her hoarse voice cried out, returning him into his senses, only to realise his hands had gripped her hips tightly that he was sure he’d leave a nasty bruise.

“P-please..” She whispered, her eyes fluttering open to reveal their gleaming chocolate brown colour, “N-not too rough.. Papa will b-be suspicious..” She managed to say between pants and moans.

“Fuck your dad.” He replied, ramming into her without hesitation, smirking at her muffled scream. He continued his action, grunting in approval at her pleasurable cries. Growling in satisfaction, she screamed out his name in such essence, that he eventually felt her release. Deciding to give her a break, he followed shortly after, collapsing over her beautifully curvaceous body.

She could feel his hot moist breath against her neck, causing her to squirm in anticipation. “N-Natsu..” She breathed, wrapping her arms around his torso, smiling softly at how warm he was. “What?” He grunted back, gripping her creamy thighs as he caressed them. He heard her give out a small whimper, legs quivering. “I-I have to go b-back.. Papa will notice I’m gone..”

“Uh oh.. We can’t have that, now can we..?” He replied huskily in her ear, grinning when he felt her shudder beneath him. “Th-then you have to l-let me go..”

“Aw fuck no. I’m up for another round.” Her eyes widened, only to snap shut when he pulled out and pushed back in. She moaned lowly, giving in to her guilty pleasures.

“Fuck…” He groaned softly, quickening his pace. She moaned in reply, eyes rolling back in complete ecstasy. A few seconds passed before he began to ram into her relentlessly. “I’m gonna make sure you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

She screamed out his name in pleasure. “Th-that won’t do-ahh!! I-I have to be able to walk, or I won’t-ohh! B-be able to s-see you again tomorrow night-o-oh god!!” He continued without hesitating, smirking at her.

Eventually, he led her over the edge with a quick thrust of his hips, letting her body shake as she gave one last cry.

“Let’s do this again tomorrow morning before I go to work, yeah?” He mumbled, lips brushing against her ear. She shuddered once again, he was beginning to wonder if there was a draft that he couldn’t feel.

“I will.. but this time, let’s not do it in the shed. It’s too cramped here…”

“All the better to hold you close, my dear.” He chirped, nipping at her creamy skin. She gave a small laugh, shaking her head as she cupped his cheeks. 

“You’re lucky I love you, Natsu Dragneel.”

I'm Still Here (Jim Hawkins X Reader)

Fandom: Treasure Planet
Pairing: Jim Hawkins X Reader
Word Count: 1,186 (SO SHORT I’M SORRY)
Prompt Given: Reader could possibly be a long lost daughter of John Silver who is a stowaway on the ship. Reader is a bit wild, fierce, and sassy but she gets along well with Captain Amelia because she’s quite a good shot. Reader is rather upset that her father treats Jim more as his son than her as his daughter (Silver probably just wanted a son) and all this time Reader has been trying to prove herself to him. She doesn’t really have a home because she’s been traveling from ship to ship in search of her father.

You grumbled to yourself as Silver walked by, his arm slung around Jim’s shoulders as they shared a joke about something that you “wouldn’t understand”. Captain Amelia raised an eyebrow at you, her eyes following your line of sight.

She sighed and clapped you on the shoulder. “Chin up, dear. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it. Jim’s just…a boy.”

You gritted your teeth together. “I understand that but,” You frowned. “I learned this,” You gestured to the knot you were tying. “All of it, for him. I grew up hearing these stories about my father and I did everything I could to be like him, and then when I finally meet him after sixteen bloody years, he treats me like I’m just another sailor.”

Amelia blinked in surprise when you suddenly wound your arms around her torso and buried your face in her chest. “There, there.” She tried to soothe, patting your back awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, Captain.” You said, pulling away immediately. “It just hurts. Do you mind if I take a break? I, uh,” You patted the gun at your hip, smiling at her even though there were tears in your eyes. “Feel the urge to shoot something.”

She shook her head. “Not at all. Take all the time you need.” You started to walk away when her voice stopped you. “And __y/n__?”

You raised an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe try talking to your father about this? And Jim? It might do you some good.”

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A Walk Through Hell

Prompt from anon: I’ve read fics like this where it’s Felicity, but can you write one where Oliver is really loopy on meds?


Oliver woke up to a clanking noise and a pounding headache. He rolled over and blinked his eyes, trying to make the black spots that were clouding his vision disappear as he noted the cold concrete he was laying on. “Ah, finally! I was wondering when you’d wake up.”

The sound of the familiar voice had Oliver lifting his eyes, but he was still seeing spots. “What did you do to me?”

“I think what you should be asking is…what am I going to do to her? The girl with the glasses. Felicity.”

“Where is she!?” Oliver tried to grab for Slade’s neck, but he could barely open his fingers. Slade dodged him easily with a laugh. “What did you do to me?” He asked again, trying to unclench his hand from the fist that it was in, but his muscles didn’t seem to be working.

“Oh relax, kid. The drugs will clear your system soon and then you can try to find the girl.”

“Find her?”

Slade pulled Oliver to his feet. “Welcome back to purgatory.”

“No.” His vision cleared more now that his body was upright, and he recognized the cell that he’d locked Slade in. “How did I get here? What did you do with Felicity!?”

“There are more people in the world that want you dead besides me. Shocking to you, I’m sure.” Slade answered sarcastically. “Luckily your girlfriend has been keeping contact with the A.R.G.U.S officers taking care of me here. It made it easy for Mr. Darhk to send for me. He hoped to use me against you. Of course, until you killed him. So I thought it was time for a little reunion. I told you that you were a killer, Queen.”

Oliver lunged for Slade again, and found that his legs weren’t quite working yet. He stumbled, and Slade evaded him effortlessly. “Where is she!?” He seethed, picking his head up enough to glare up at Slade.

“Tied to a tree. Out in the jungle. Hopefully you can find her before any of the animals do. And while you’re finding her…I’ll be finding you.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“Of course I am!” Slade’s loud voice sent a vibration to Oliver’s ears. His ears were still ringing in the silence that followed. “Now go. I’ll see you soon, kid.”

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So, i realized i never posted one of my works here and that needs to be fixed. I based this off of a piece by @istehlurvz which can be found here. (yeah this fic is super old)

Ao3

Word Count: 2022

Summary: Just holy shit… Lance was desperate. He had an assignment due and nothing was working. What could possibly happen when he spots a cute guy running around on campus and happens to bump into him. Something good right?


Goddammit…

Nothing was working. The flowers looked flat. The birds were blurry…Even though they were just sitting there. Hell, Lance couldn’t even manage to take a different picture of a tree. And those never moved!

Ready to throw his camera in frustration, Lance groaned and fell back on the grass. He loved photography, he did, but this? This stupid freaking assignment was going to be the end of him. Might as well strap him to one of the aeronautic or astronautic majors’ rockets and launch him into space.

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New Remedy

Author’s note: Izumi and Ryouma with 23. “Just once.”
*screeches* THANK YOU, MIIAAAAAAA. THESE TWO NEED MORE LOVE AND ATTENTION. Sorry it took so longgasdjfk sdf 
Also this turned out soooo effing vanilla I don’t even 

Summary: Izumi and Ryouma have some time to kill and Izumi starts freaking out because he’s super nervous about recording his single. Luckily, Ryouma thinks of a silly way to get rid of his nerves. 


The morning before the recording, Izumi went over to Ryouma’s apartment to hang out. It was definitely a miracle that Ryouma had time in the first place, so to say that both of them jumped each other as soon as they made eye-contact was an understatement. Izumi had immediately wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, laughing happily as Ryouma picked him up to carry him to the living room.

“You nervous about the recording?”

The flush on Izumi’s cheeks darkened and he nodded shyly. Ryouma was holding his waist, gently stroking his sides with his thumbs. After convincing Izumi that he was definitely not too heavy, they ended up in this position quite often: Ryouma lying either on the couch or in bed with Izumi on top of him. In the beginning it was quite clumsy but Izumi soon grew used to it and often took the first step nowadays, seeing as he grew addicted to cuddling.

“It’ll be okay. You sing good after all,” Ryouma grinned and bumped their noses together. “If you get stage fright, just think about me.”

Izumi snorted at the cheeky joke and buried his face in Ryouma’s neck. “I’ll miss you.”

“Hmm, I’ll miss you, too.”

Nudging Izumi with his nose, Ryouma initiated their first kiss of the night. Izumi’s face grew hot at the continuous movement of Ryouma’s lips against his own and the hands squeezing his waist, thumbs massaging his hips. Lips were nibbling playfully at his cupid’s bow and Izumi felt himself becoming weak because wow he loved Ryouma’s kisses so much.

Izumi’s hands that had been resting on Ryouma’s chest were now clutching his shirt, playing with the fabric because he didn’t want to move too much in case he’d ruin the moment. The steady heartbeat under his fingers made him smile into the kiss, loving Ryouma’s sense of serenity.

“Shall we go to the bedroom?” was a soft whisper against his now slightly plump lips.  

His heart fluttered nervously. “U-um, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

One of the many talents Izumi possessed was making things awkward in less than five seconds. He started sputtering right away, half-words blubbering out, trying to explain himself to his now shocked boyfriend who looked like he just got slapped in the face.

“Izumi…?”

“No, I mean! It’s not like I don’t want to, uh, I just— I’m too tense! And-and I don’t want my butt to hurt when I’m recording, like, what i-if they start asking weird questions or notice and I’m not a good liar, Ryouma! And Rei, oh god, he’d never let me live it down! I don’t wanna have that talk with him again! I hate having to explain myself to him, especially when he’s wearing that stupid smirk ‘cause he always thinks he’s super smart. And Onii-chan will definitely beat you up if he finds out, nooooooo!”

At this point Izumi had basically become a blushing mess that was constantly making weird noises and hid his face in Ryouma’s shirt to muffle his words.

A hand was laid on the back of his head. “Izumi.”

“What?”

“We don’t have to do it, you know?” Ryouma mumbled against his hair and Izumi looked up, teary-eyed.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not. Holding you in my arms is good enough for me, but…” Ryouma stroked his back and paused at his lower back. “you are a bit tense, I can feel it. Are you really that nervous?”

It was obviously incomprehensible from his side, but Izumi was so inexperienced with these things that he couldn’t help but feel a bit scared. Singing in front of other people (professionals on top of that), watching and listening carefully, judging him for every wrong note, but masking it with polite smiles. He would be stuck in this awful circle: sing off key, resulting in more nerves, which made his singing worse and him even more nervous.

Without even noticing it, Izumi had started shaking and clutching Ryouma’s shirt for support.

Ryouma,” he whined lowly and sniffed. “I can’t do it! I-It’s in a couple of hours and I feel like I’m gonna throw up!”

Izumi jumped off the couch and started pacing, waving his arms around as if he was trying to fly away. There was a big lump in his throat, making him feel like he couldn’t even talk and a knot in his chest made it hard for him to breathe and since both were kind of really important for the recording, Izumi felt like dying.

“Izumi—”

“And I broke the marble! What do I do?”

Strong arms circled around his shoulders to hug him from behind, forcing him to stay in place. “I’m sorry. If I didn’t have that photoshoot today, I’d totally come with you.”

Ryouma buried his nose in the back of Izumi’s neck, nuzzling the spot just below his hairline and squeezing his shoulders, causing Izumi’s knees to buckle under his weight. He felt Ryouma’s small breaths against his sensitive skin, causing goose bumps to appear all over his arms and back. His warmth, cologne and natural scent, reassuring squeezes and tender kisses on his neck did wonders for Izumi’s nerves but he was still shaking like a leaf.

In the beginning, Ryouma’s kisses would’ve relaxed him but now that they had been together for a while, he’d gotten pretty used to them (not that they would ever get boring though) and the magic was kind of wearing off.

But when one kiss was placed right on his pulse point, Izumi jumped up with an unmanly squeak and giggled. “S-sorry, that tickled.”

This was not very uncommon. In fact, it happened about every time they would get intimidate and usually Ryouma would either ignore him or apologize and move to a different spot, but this time, his boyfriend gasped in excitement and turned him around.  

“I got it!”

“Got what?” Izumi inquired and raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe you’ll relax if I tickle you!”

“… Eeeeeeeeh?”

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I'm Not Jealous

Group/Member: Seventeen/S.Coups

Genre: Fluff, A tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 521

Summary: S.Coups gets jealous because his girlfriend is always hanging out with Joshua

Author’s Note: Requested by @fuckwithevena, I hope you enjoy! I also hope some of y'all notice the little Drake and Josh reference I put in 😉

- Admin Lara

Originally posted by boysbemp3

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some nerve you have, to break up my loneliness

this is the first fic I ever wrote! I found it in my drafts and revised it (there was a lot of cringing involved) but it turned out pretty okay, so I decided to share it with you guys. (in the original, there were a LOT of inaccuracies and some pretty bad dialogue… i mostly fixed it). yes, it’s a soulmate AU. yes, those are played out. give me a break. I was learning.


Baz doesn’t want a soulmate. Simon wants one desperately. They meet in a bathroom. (TW: swearing, mentions of homophobia)

Simon Snow wanted a soulmate desperately. His tattoo, written in neat, bold cursive scrawl, had begun to fade in when he was about twelve. And now he was seventeen, and he’d been waiting five years to hear those words (although, in truth, they weren’t very romantic words at all. His soulmate sounded like kind of a jerk).

Still, his life now didn’t hold much to look forward to other than the soulmate and his eighteenth birthday, when he could finally get the hell out of dodge. But that wasn’t for months, and his soulmate could come any day. It was far more exciting to wake up every day and think ’today could be it! ’ than to wait tirelessly for a day that seemed eons away.

It was on the inside of his wrist, so he always wore long sleeved shirts or bracelets to cover it up. It had always felt like his little secret. While the other children at school were eagerly pulling up their shirts to show tattoos half-formed on their ribcage and wearing shorts only to show the letters on the backs of their knees, Simon was hiding his. It showed up one letter at a time, and not in order. The first letter was a ‘W’, and he fantasized that it would be a gutsy girl, seeing him for the first time, falling in love with him immediately, and asking him in a rushed voice, “Will you go out with me?” But as more letters appeared, all jumbled (an F, then two Os on either side of it, then a C and so on) it became clear that his soulmate was… well… less than polite.

The whole tattoo spelled “Oh, fuck off, will you?”.

Simon didn’t care. He could not care one bit less that his soulmate was, apparently, an asshole. Whoever she was, she had the neatest, most old fashioned handwriting he’d ever seen, beautiful, calligraphy-like letters all looping together like a fine ribbon. He imagined her to look something like Agatha Wellbelove, the prettiest girl he’d seen to date, but it couldn’t have been her (first because her first words to him were, “You smell like cinnamon”, and second, because she didn’t have a tattoo. It happened sometimes, that people didn’t have soulmates. She cried about it often). Agatha had warm, brown doe eyes and long hair like corn silk. She and Simon were alright friends, but she was a grade above him and had just graduated, and it was getting difficult to stay in touch.

The alarm went off, and Simon sat up out of his bed, groaning. Simon knew he had the morning to himself- his father hadn’t heard the alarm, and he never got up to make sure Simon went to school anyway. He decided that he’d much rather walk around and feel the sunshine on his back than lounge around and suffer through math class. Running a brush through his hair and grabbing some money, he left, thinking he would head down to the bakery and grab some scones, maybe eat them in the park. Today was no different than any other day. He wondered if he’d meet his soulmate. He probably wouldn’t.

-

Baz Pitch dreaded the day he met his soulmate. One, because he sounded like a twat, (“Hey, you can’t smoke in here”), two, because his handwriting was shit, and three, because he really didn’t want one. He didn’t want to fall in love. He’d had enough of love. He loved his mother, and she died. He loved his father (in a twisted kind of way), and they hadn’t spoken in almost three months (“Dad, I’m gay.” “Get out of my house.”). He loved his sister, Mordelia, and he couldn’t do anything to help her when their father would go into fits of rage, smashing plates and windows (and sometimes Baz’s face) and she would hide under the bed, her small body racked with sobs for hours. Now that he’d moved out, he could do even less for her. But he’d given her a number, in case she ever needed his help. He’d kill Malcolm if he ever laid a finger on Mordi.

She hadn’t called.

As far as Baz was concerned, life could go so much better if you just didn’t care. About anything. People, yourself, whatever. Love ended in disaster of some sort, every time. And even though he’d never experienced romantic love, he figured that it’d be just as bad, if not worse, and he wanted to do everything in his power to avoid it.

It was just an innocent visit to the coffee shop. He wanted a cocoa (was that a crime?). The morning bright but chilly, and he figured a hot chocolate would warm him right up. He’d never been to this shop, but it looked approachable and friendly, with a cutesy sign on the door that said ’We’re open, come on in!“ He walked in. The scent of baked goods practically smacked him in the face, and he smiled a little.

But his smile quickly fell.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Malcolm. In the coffee shop. Two people in front of him. Ordering a coffee, and Baz knew exactly how he wanted it (black). Looking tall and mean and awful. Looking like Baz really shouldn’t have left Mordi with him, no matter how hard it would have been to take her away.

He was about to turn, and Baz was still contemplating what to do. Fight or flight.

Baz flew.

-

The smell of smoke assaulted Simon when he entered the bathroom. Who the hell was smoking in here? It was a public building, there was a no smoking sign two feet from the goddamned door. Christ, could people not read? He looked around for the culprit, but there didn’t seem to be anyone in the bathroom.

He heard a faint hum from one of the two stalls.

“Hey,” he said, a little irritated. “You can’t smoke in here.”

Baz took a sharp breath.

“I said, you can’t fucking smoke in here. Did you not see the sign? Hello?” Baz needed to find the quickest possible way to get rid of him. Jesus. Fuck. What a day. It wasn’t even nine yet and already he’d been inadvertently chased away by his dick father and (sort of) met his soulmate. His idiot soulmate, whose voice was just like his dumb handwriting- inviting, but rough around the edges.

“Oh, fuck off, will you?”

Simon froze. What? What the hell was his soulmate doing in a boys’ bathroom? And the voice… Not exactly deep, but throaty and smooth and impossibly not-belonging-to-a-female. He didn’t know what to say, and so he didn’t say anything.

Instead, he went into the stall next to the guy (it was a guy), clambered clumsily onto the back of the toilet, and peered over the side. Perhaps not the most intelligent decision, but Simon had never prided himself on common sense.

Gorgeous. That was the only word that registered in Simon’s mind for a whole thirty seconds. The boy (definitely, definitely a boy) had thick, shoulder length hair, pitch black, and reddish-gold skin. He was sitting on the back of the toilet, legs crossed, with a lit cigarette hanging casually from his lips. He was exotic. He was beautiful. He looked up. He was pissed.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?” He snapped. Simon could see he’d been crying. His eyes, a stunning grey-green, were rimmed with red and shining. “Get away from me, you prick.”

Simon found his voice. “No. I’m not going to get away from you. Not until I figure out a few things.”

“Like?”

“Let me see your tattoo.” Simon demanded.

"And why, exactly, would I want to do that?”

"Because… Because just do it, okay?” He looked at the boy pleadingly.

Baz didn’t want to. He wasn’t going to. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction, this boy who had the guts, who had the gall to just look over the fucking stall at him when this was a place for privacy-

"Please?” Desperation had crept it’s way into Simon’s voice. His eyes were big and blue and honest.

Baz pulled the hair away from the back of his neck and showed the beautiful boy his tattoo.

God damn you, Baz thought. He was so flawless. He was glowing, like the sun was trapped inside of him, shining out through his curly bronze hair and his lovely golden skin and his bright eyes and his honey-coated voice.

"Oh.” It was soft. He sounded defeated. “So I guess…”

"We’re soulmates,” Baz finished for him. “What’s that face for? You disappointed?” He wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"No, no-” Simon interrupted quickly. “It’s not that at all. No.”

"Then what is it? Because you look like you just found out that all your Christmas presents were underwear.” Baz studied him for a second. “And that none of them fit. And they may or may not be used.”

Simon suppressed a laugh. He spoke slowly, chose his words carefully. “I just… didn’t think… that I liked guys. And it’s surprising, to say the least.”

"Good. So go away.”

"No.” Simon had waited this long for his soulmate, and just because he was a he didn’t mean Simon was going to let him slip between his fingers. “We’re going out on a date. Right now. I need to figure this out.”

"That’s how you ask someone out? You didn’t even actually ask.” Baz shook his head, but dropped the cigarette, grinding it into the tile floor to put it out. He ignored Simon’s disparaging look, swinging the stall door open and following him out of the bathroom.

"This is some crazy shit,” Simon muttered, just loud enough for Baz to hear. Baz nodded in agreement. “Where do you want to go?”

"Anywhere. Anywhere but here.” Baz paused. “And don’t expect this to be like… a date. I’m not ready for a date. I don’t even…”

"Whatever, it doesn’t have to be a date. How does a walk in the park sound? I’m Simon, by the way. And you’re a git. Who introduces themselves with ‘Fuck off’? You do realize I have that permanently tattooed on my body, right?”

Simon. Simon who talked way too fast, all his words running together into one big long word, barely intelligible. “I-” Baz began, but Simon held up a finger.

"Shhhhhh. We’re going to the park.” They walked in silence for a while, Baz a step behind Simon, studying him. He was shining. He was even more beautiful in the summer sun. Clad in basketball-type shorts and a muscle shirt, Baz could see that he had dozens of moles scattered all over his body. Simon looked back, like he was checking if Baz was still there, and Baz saw that on his face was a sweep of freckles across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks. He was substantially shorter than Baz, probably by three or four inches, but then again, Baz was tall. The kind of tall that makes people stop you in the street and say “Wow, you’re tall.” Little kids looked at him and whispered to their mothers in awe, “Look, it’s a giant!”.

"How old are you?” Baz asked, a feeble attempt at conversation. He felt awkward in the quiet, with just the light breeze whispering in his ears. He wondered how Simon wasn’t cold, as scantily clad as he was.

"I’m a senior in high school,” Simon replied in a pleasant tone.

"Oh. Um, I just graduated.” Usually, Baz was fantastic with words. He could spin poems out of his head like woven silk and his wit was quick and sharp, throwing insults and jabs left and right, comebacks falling from his mouth with ease. He was a good conversationalist, too, but that was mostly because he couldn’t tolerate small talk. It bored the hell out of him. Life was short, he figured, so why waste it on discussion of the weather? But this boy… He was stealing everything. Baz’s words, his breath, and apparently his free will, because every step towards the park he knew he should turn around, wanted to- but didn’t.

"What’s your name?” Simon asked, glancing back for just a moment. Just long enough to catch Baz’s eyes and bring a soft blush to his cheeks.

"Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch,” Baz said, as casually as he could manage. “But you can call me Baz.”

"Baz.” He considered it for a moment. “I like it. It suits you. Dark. Mysterious. Straight out of a romance novel.”

They reached the park and suddenly neither of them knew what to do. It was awkward and the sun was too bright, so they were both sweaty and squinting and trying too hard not to look too long at the other one. Was this how it was supposed to be? Weren’t you supposed to fall right into your soulmate, and everything was supposed to feel right, like it had just clicked into place? Because it didn’t feel that way, not at all. It felt strange and a little bit empty and very, very stilted. Their conversation wasn’t going anywhere. There was no conversation, neither of them were even speaking.

"I play the violin,” Baz said, a little too loud. It was a stupid thing to say, a total non-sequitur, but he said it because he wanted to know if Simon played an instrument. He could picture him jamming out on a bass guitar or banging on a drum set.

"I always wanted to learn to play the violin.” He spoke in a wistful tone. “But we could never afford music lessons.”

"Oh.” Baz replied, his face bright red.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” Simon sighed, leaning forward towards Baz. “I feel like I’m at a middle school dance. Just tell me something about yourself, something you wouldn’t tell anybody else.”

"Um…” Baz began, not sure what to say next. “I- I just met you. Why would I-”

"Because I’m your soulmate, you fuckwad.” Simon sounded exasperated now. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Don’t you think I should know things about you?”

"Point taken,” Baz admitted. “It’s just that… I’ve never really wanted a soulmate.”

Simon looked hurt. “Well it’s not like you have a fucking choice,” he spat. “It’s not like I have one.”

The end of his sentence was so tender that Baz couldn’t help but give in. “Alright. I’ll tell you something, I suppose. Um… I guess… I like to watch Disney movies sometimes. When I’m alone.”

Simon brightened immediately. “Alright, good! Good. My turn.” He furrowed his eyebrows, bit his bottom lip. Baz swallowed hard. “Sorry, this is kind of a question- what the hell do you put in your hair to make it so smooth? It’s absolutely gorgeous. Mine is a rat’s nest, and I’ve tried everything on God’s green earth. Nothing tames it.” He grinned, sheepish.

Baz giggled and Simon’s insides were on fire. Here was this beautiful, regal boy, and he was making him laugh. Making him giggle, even.

"I don’t put anything in it, really. Conditioner. I grow it long to hide my tattoo.” He paused. Simon nodded and took off his rubber bracelets. Baz recognized them as the ones all the young girls wore nowadays, the ones in his sister’s class. They were shaped like animals and food and things. Simon had one that looked like a slice of pizza, a butterfly, and the state of Texas (at least, that’s what Baz thought it was.)

"My tattoo is on my wrist. I don’t like people to see it either.” Baz reached out, an instinctive move, and ran his fingers over the soft skin of Simon’s wrist. Sure enough, his meticulous handwriting was written on Simon’s wrist. He felt almost bad about what the words said.

"I apologize for swearing at you,” Baz started, unsure where he was going with this. “You know, my little sister’s tattoo says something similar. I think it’s "shut the hell up”, or something.“ He felt a blush come to his cheeks, and cursed himself. He hadn’t blushed this much in months. "I miss her very much.” It was almost a whisper.

"I miss my mother very much. She died when I was ten.”

"Oh, my sister isn’t dead. I just haven’t seen her in a long time.” It seemed an inadequate addition. A sad smile crossed Baz’s face, the smile of those remembering what they’ve lost. “My mother died, too. When I was seven. And as far as my father’s concerned, I died about three months ago, when I told him I was gay. He’s got Mordi- that’s my sister.”

And then Simon had his fingers intertwined with Baz’s, and Baz didn’t want to pull away. “I suppose this means I’ll have to tell my father about the whole ‘gay’ thing,” he fretted, his worried tone only half a joke.

"No offense, but how didn’t you know before? I’ve known since I was five.”

Simon frowned. “I just never thought about it, I guess. But I think you’re lovely, and funny, and I like you. So I guess that’s what matters, in the end.” Simon beamed, his dimpled cheeks overtaking his sky-blue eyes.

Feeling wanted wasn’t something Baz was used to. “Oh,” he replied. But then it hit. The complete, oh-wow-I’ve-been-waiting-my-whole-life-for-this-don’t-let-it-stop, heart warming, mind shaking feeling of finally finding your soulmate. How could he not have wanted this? Baz took Simon’s other hand and faced him.

"Oh.” Simon let his fingers slip into Baz’s.

For once, Baz didn’t need to be good with words. He didn’t need to say a thing. All he needed to do was lean over and press his lips ever-so-light against Simon’s temple. Then his nose. Then his lips. He was warm and he tasted like scones and cinnamon and everything good in the world, how could anything be this lovely, this good.

"Oh.”


Hope you enjoyed! It’s about ten billion times better as a reboot than it was when I posted it on my ao3- to anyone who read that…. I’m so sorry. Originally titled "Oh.” (Creative, I know). current title taken from "I’m Yours” by Alessia Cara, which I listened to on repeat as I edited this. Check it out if you haven’t heard it! ^-^

desponsa  asked:

Prompt request! Sorry, I'm in love with time travel stories, so I'd really love something with Laurent time traveling. Maybe he could somehow prevent Auguste's death? Or you could go the angstier route of him being too late to save his brother. Or you could straight up dump him back to when he gets Damen as a slave. I'm just really interested in what kind of political machinations could come out of this. Bonus if you write it from Damen's POV!

Only the fact that Laurent has spent a long time ruthlessly training himself to hide his inner workings allows him to remain still and silent, as he opens his eyes and realises where, when, he has ended up.

His shoulder twinges, as it often does when he’s worried, but it’s a phantom ache. This body is unmarked. This body has never ridden into action against his uncle’s troops, or drilled men to the point of collapse. It has no scar from the agonising twist of a blade, a pain that should have been unbearable and yet, somehow, had to be borne. This body has never been touched as Damen touches him, with such tenderness and teasing and love.

Laurent presses his lips together, then releases them.

This is where you are, he tells himself. Now bear it.

Looking at Damen in front of him, clad in the brief, brutal garb of a slave, makes Laurent’s stomach churn. It’s only half distaste, with perhaps a dash of horrified sympathy. The other half of it is remembering how pleased he was, how vindicated he felt, when he first saw Damianos of Akielos, Prince-Killer, the target on which Laurent had pinned all the blame for his life’s miseries–if not, if this, if only–forced to his knees and entirely at Laurent’s mercy.

If only. The irony of it grabs at Laurent’s mouth, and he feels his lips start to twist.

“Leave us,” he says, disguising it.

One of the guards frowns. He says, uneasily, “Your Highness–”

“I do not believe,” says Laurent, “that my direction was at all unclear.”

He has more than a year’s experience commanding soldiers, and a lifetime’s experience controlling his voice. Soon the room is empty but for the two of them, and Laurent is exhaling slowly enough to force his pulse into something like normality. He feels at itch at his wrist, an oddness that makes him want to touch, and realises he misses the weight of gold there.

Damen, wearing both cuffs and heavy chains, is silent. His eyes are downcast in the calculated feigning of submission, but tense muscles stand out on his neck and bent shoulders, and the twin creases on either side of his nose shout the contempt he doesn’t know he’s showing. Laurent remembers. That contempt made his blood seethe, and his careful plans turn to so much steam inside his skull. Now he looks at Damen’s smooth back–unmarked–and his breath catches. For the first time he believes in the benefit of this kind of second chance. Actions, once made, that can be unmade.

He should release Damen immediately. That would be the right thing to do.

But if Laurent helps Damen to escape, then Damen will simply rush back to Ios at the first opportunity: headlong, unthinking. Unprepared. And if Laurent knows anything, he knows that neither of them can do this without the other.

Or…is that fair? Could they? Now that Laurent has the advantage and knows his uncle’s game from start to finish, could he play his way to victory on his own?

Perhaps he could. But Damen would be nothing to him–no, be fair, be precise. He would be nothing to Damen. And Damen would be one man in the face of Kastor’s hatred and the Regent’s machinations; Jokaste can’t be relied upon to save him twice.

Laurent’s mind is a child’s toy, spinning in the dust, or an okton course busy with the thunder of hooves and the whistling danger of spears. Aimeric. Govart. Pascal. He knows everything; he could do it, he could–oh gods, Nicaise, he could keep Nicaise intact and alive, he could reach into the morass of his uncle’s web and pluck out the innocent. The possibilities swirl and threaten to consume him.

Damen has raised his head. No doubt Laurent has been silent for long enough that Damen suspects a trick, or is simply becoming impatient.

Laurent’s head aches. He needs two nights by lamplight and endless sheafs of paper to sketch out all the ways he could play this; he needs to follow each thread ruthlessly to its end, and snip the tapestry down to its bones. He could, he is now fairly certain, do it alone.

He doesn’t want to.

He wants Damen across the table from him, giving him strategy, talking him down from anger, being the best half of Laurent’s soul and the only partner he could ever need. He wants Damen in this with him.

Laurent moves. He kneels down, suddenly, in front of Damen. He meets Damen’s startled gaze and compels it to hold.

“Your mother’s favourite place was her summer palace, outside of Ios,” he says. “There is a marble carving of a bird there, set just above the main entrance. Your brother gave you the scar on your thigh when you were thirteen, and it has only just occurred to you to wonder how deadly his intention was, when he came at you with the blade. Nikandros warned you about Jokaste, and he was right to do so; he would warn you about me, for the colour of my hair and eyes, and he’d be right to do that as well.”

Damen’s eyes are wide and shocked. He is showing everything on his face. This is the old Damen, before he learned from Laurent and Laurent’s treatment of him how to shutter and manoeuvre and dissemble. The bruise of betrayal is still vivid on his face.

“Damianos,” Laurent says; the name like a knife, like a gift, like a flame between them. “Damianos. Listen to me. I am going to tell you the truth.”

here, i present a shit ton of fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of july. I read so many (39) fucking fics this month, jesus christ.. this rec is gonna be super long fam. I recommend that you read these great fics in august, if you haven’t already!! 

(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)


1. For Now (and Forever) (83k)**

“It’s nice that you want to offer that, but I just can’t do that. First of all, it’s illegal.”

Louis shakes his head vigorously. “No, no. It’s not like one of us is gunning for a visa.”

“Listen to yourself,” Harry laughs, shaking Louis’ shoulders. “Don’t you think it’s a bit weird to con the country you’re supposed to be serving?”

Louis is going into the Army, Harry is going nowhere, and there’s nothing like a little identity fraud between friends.

2. Blind from This Sweet, Sweet Craving (31k)*

But he’s also Harry’s best friend, and despite everything, despite all the fuck-ups and the plot twists and everything just not playing out the way it should, he’d still rather be stuck in this situation with Louis than any of the other boys. He’s got Harry’s back, and in a weird, abstract way, he knows they’ll be able to get out of this situation, together.

Harry sighs. “We’re going,” he says resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

Oh well. There are definitely worse ways to spend the weekend than pretending to be engaged to his best friend.

3. MARRIED FOR A WEEK?! (20k)*

Hi guys :) You might recognize Harry from one or two of my old videos .. I was tagged in the Married for a week challenge so I asked him to be my husband ! We had to live together for a week and take each other out on a couple romantic dates and that, check out the video to see how it went :) Give it a like if you enjoyed and maybe subscribe if you haven’t already. Love you all

- Louis x

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