Summary: Thinking he needs to find a date, Natasha signs Steve up to Tinder. In Queens, Peter Parker does the same to you. It’s a match!
Word Count: 1,723
A/N: This is already planned out and written (in my head). I loved writing this.
Nat raised a brow, a mysterious
curve to her smile. Steve was immediately suspicious. He felt his shoulders
stiffen and his back straighten. He knew he looked like he had a stick up his
ass, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when Natasha looked like the cat that
had eaten the canary, and wanted to
“You left your phone on the coffee
table,” she said. Her tone was relaxed, which made Steve more nervous.
His eyes narrowed. “What did you
do, Romanoff?” he questioned, broad arms crossing over an equally-broad chest.
She merely shrugged before she
turned her right-hand palm-up and relaxing it. Steve’s phone was revealed. “See
Request: can you do one where Peter and reader got a bit steamy with a make out session and Peter doesn’t notices to ton of very very noticeable hickies on him until he’s left his room and him trying to survive the day with it?
A/N: Hey guys! I am finishing my exams this Wednesday, so I will probably upload nothing else until then -I will try to write my imagine based on the incredible trailer that day, so it should be up on Thursday at most!
Peter laughed softly as your lips traveled down his neck, leaving small kisses. His t-shirt was off, you wearing it. ‘’Babe, somebody is gonna barge in’’ he whispered, a smile on his lips as your lips kissed his stomach. ‘’Are you giving me a hickie?’’ he asked, furrowing his brows. You raised your head to look at him, a smile plastered on your face. ‘’Of course not’’ you reassured him. He brought your face close to his and kissed you, the kiss getting more intense as time passed. His hands traveled to your hair, messing it up, then moving to your hips and pulling you closer to him as he sat on the bed. You put your hands on his hair, pulling at some strands and making him groan. Lowering your head, you started to kiss his neck again, his eyes closed. His hands moved to your butt, making you moan softly as you gave him a hickie, which was followed by multiple others, although he didn’t notice. You kissed him on the lips again, his tongue entering your mouth as your hands drew patterns on his back. He run his hands up and down your body, enjoying the feeling of having you so close to him. Finally pulling apart to breathe, you rested your forehead against his and smiled softly, opening your eyes to find his looking at you with an expression full of love. He grinned before grabbing the hem of his t-shirt with his hands. ‘’Will you give me back my t-shirt so I can go out and have breakfast?’’ he said, the grin still on his face. You laughed and took it off, his eyes never leaving your body. You then put on your clothes, and as you looked at him putting on his t-shirt, you admired the way his neck was full of hickies, although he didn’t notice. ‘’Let’s go grab some food’’ you said, getting up from bed and grabbing his hand. You both left your room at the Avengers Tower and walked towards the kitchen, a comfortable silence between you. When you got to the kitchen, everybody was there, considering it was still pretty early and they couldn’t afford to sleep in and lose training. ‘’Good morning everyone’’ you said as you let Peter’s hand go, walking to the fridge to get some juice. Peter sat on a stool as you passed him some pancakes, and Tony looked at him with a smirk on his face before nudging Steve’s side. ‘’Spiderboy, what you got in your neck?’’ he asked, the smirk present on his voice. Peter automatically raised his hand and put it on his neck, trying to see if he had something. ‘’What do you mean?’’ he asked, his voice raising an octave. ‘’It seems like somebody decided to paint a sunset there’’ Natasha told him. You rested against the counter, a cup of warm coffee in your hands, which you brought close to your lips. ‘’I’m pretty artsy, right?’’ you asked, taking a small sip of your drink. Peter gasped and looked at you, an offended look in his eyes. ‘’You said you hadn’t given me a hickie!’’ he accused you. ‘’When you asked me, I hadn’t’’ you said, shrugging your shoulders. Everybody laughed as they looked at Peter, who looked like an angry kid. ‘’What am I supposed to tell my aunt? The ‘I fell going down the stairs’ excuse isn’t gonna make it this time!’’ he complained.
The sheet says gather three trials. The TA says five. You’re on the seventh and your partner is preparing another sample to test.
You measure the sample once and it says 0.5. You check again and it says 0.10. Again. 0.07. The number is never the same.
You still don’t know your lab partners name. You never knew their name.
You’re allowed to use the special instrument scale. A breeze blows through the room. The TA has to reconfigure the scale. Your time is over, and the next person walks into the room. A breeze follows them.
You put your pencil down for a second. You look back and it’s gone. There are three people in the room. Everybody else is using pens.
You walk into the room with a hair tie on your wrist. You set your equipment down as lab starts, and go to tie your hair back. Your hair tie is gone. You are the only girl in the lab right now.
The TA gives the safety lecture. The far right fume hood is not to be used. It doesn’t work. None of them work. The fire truck hasn’t been to the chemistry building in a few days anyway.
You pass by a dark room every day. It’s got a cleared to practice sign on it. Equipment is there and never dusty. You watch it from a distance every day. It’s never used.
A fire drill goes off. The TA assured you it’s just a test run. Sirens echo in the distance as you measure out exactly 0.45 mg of powder C.
You’re doing a calculation when you hear it: the distinct sound of thumping. The TA tells you it’s probably just the cadaver lab. Ignore it.
You walk into the lab. You stare at the TA, who stares back at you with the dead eyed gaze of a grad student on his fifth cup of coffee. You hand in your report and walk away silently, knowing you saw your future.
You have a lab next week. You still don’t have the grade from the last lab. Or the one before that. You don’t have any lab grades.
The booklet says the lab will take two and a half hours. The TA says an hour. You’ve been here for four, and no where near done.
You go to office hours. You wait the entire four hour time slot. Nobody is there. The next day the TA says nobody came to office hours.
You have a question on your lab due. You search for your TA’s email in your notes. You go to the website. They aren’t listed. You email your professor. They’ve never heard of them. Your TA smiles at you the next day.
On the first day of lab your TA introduces himself. His name is Matt, and he’s a grad student at the university. The other TA is named Lauren. They were your TA’s for your last lab. And the lab before that. They are the only TA’s you have ever seen.
Credit to @papalogia for like half of these. She gets the Struggle.
We got a puppy two days ago. After one of our huskies passed away in November I decided it was time and got this lil girl for my partner’s birthday. She’s 3 months old and is OBSESSED with water. Sleeps by it, hangs out by it, eats it, blows bubbles, slaps it, digs in it, sources it out if it’s on the dirt, anything. Right now she doesn’t have a name but we’re thinking of something water-themed. She’s a very happy go lucky well behaved lil girl who loves shoving her faces in yours for kisses and laying on your lap forever.
Fixing things around the Haus was never reallyabout the dibs for Dex. But, all the same, in the back of his mind he was still relying on his efforts in that department to secure him housing for his junior year at Samwell.
Which is why he’s a little surprised at himself for the sinking feeling in his gut when he’s officially offered a spot.
“Oh,” he replies dumbly.
Lardo blinks at him, clearly startled by his lack of enthusiasm, her hand still held out between them waiting for him to reach out and seal the deal.
Dex shakes his head and reaches his own hand out belatedly. Only to have Lardo pull back. “Bro. I’m not gonna give it to you if you don’t really want it.”
“No, no, I do! I promise I do. I’m sorry, I just thought…”
He thought that he’d be getting either Ransom or Holster’s dibs. And that Nursey would be getting the other’s. And, despite the fact that Dex has been dreading the very idea of that for the entire school year, he feels off kilter and lost now trying to imagine a scenario in which he lives at the Haus without Nursey constantly underfoot.
Even these past two years of living in the dorms, Nursey still always somehow manages to end up at the Haus whenever Dex does, stealing the last slice of pie while verbally needling at sore spots he knows well enough will get a rise out of his fellow D-man.
It seemed pointless to even hope that getting dibs wouldn’t somehow include Nursey at his side, and so Dex never bothered to factor in the possibility. He resigned himself to his fate. And now, presented with an alternative, he has no idea what to think.
“Do you, uh,” he clears his throat, watching Lardo’s eyes narrow at him, assessing. “Do you know who Rans and Holster are giving theirs to?”
“They’re giving them to Nursey, bro.”
“Right. But to Nursey and…?”
“Just Nursey.” She shrugs. “Those bunkbeds don’t even have a ladder anymore, so we figured we’d turn the attic back into a single for now. And we thought we’d do you all a solid by making sure the SMH didn’t lose it’s next best D-man pair due to mutual homicide within the first week of preseason by making you shack up together. We’ve all seen how you two handle sharing a hotel room on roadies.”
To be fair, how they handle it nowadays is wildly different from the roughhousing mess of their first semester at Samwell. But apparently no one’s noticed that.
Dex goes abruptly still as a thought occurs to him that feels like a bucket of ice water over his head. “Wait. Was this Nurse’s idea?”
Driving lessons can be scary, but making sure you’ve got everything set up for once you’ve passed your test needn’t be! Check out our 5 things you should think about saving up for once you’ve passed your test.
Imagine Dean shooting you when he loses his memory.
A/N: This is set during the episode “Regarding Dean” when he loses his memory.
The witch stood there as you came bolting down the stairs; Sam was somewhere behind you but you were more concerned with making sure the witch didn’t disappear before you could fix Dean. Looking down the stairs you made eye contact with Dean, who was quick to raise his gun to you instead of the witch the gun was originally pointed at.
You threw your hands up in the air and shouted “no” right before a gunshot went off. Your eyes closed at the sound but quickly ripped them open when you felt the immense pain spreading through your abdomen.
Rowena stood there in shock as you stumbled back a step, falling to the stairs. Dean continued to look around confused when Sam came to the banister. His eyes widened at the sight of you on the stairs before looking at Dean and raising his hands. “B-brother.” He said, tapping his chest. Next he pointed to where you were, “Sister.” Lastly he pointed at the blonde woman, “Witch.”
Dean quickly pointed the gun the witch and shot her. He give a grin after killing her and looked to Sam for approval but Sam was already at your side panicking.
“Crap.” Sam muttered as he put his large hands over yours as blood continued to pour from your body.
“Not good Sammy.” You grunted out as he pushed on your hands to apply more pressure.
“It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay. Remember I got shot last year by the werewolf? I’m still here right. You’re gonna be fine.” Sam said, trying to convince you and himself that he was telling the truth.
“I’m sorry.” Dean cut in as he approached the stairs, “You’re my sister and I shot you.”
“It’s okay Dean, you don’t remember us.” You tried to sound kind but it came out in grunts.
“Rowena,” Sam called out for the red headed witch, “Can you take Dean upstairs and fix him, please?”
Rowena nodded her head before walking up the stairs, passing you with care, “Come on Dean, let’s get your memories back.”
You watched as Dean followed Rowena upstairs and disappeared before returning your attention to Sam. “Sammy,” You mumbled as you looked down to see a scary amount of your blood pooling around you, “I think this might be worse then Idaho last year.”
“You’re gonna be fine.” Sam replied while trying to formulate a plan.
“Just-make sure Dean doesn’t find out, okay? Say the witch shot me or something, otherwise the guilt will kill him.” You told your older brother.
Sam absentmindedly nodded his head before he looked up and caught your eyes, “Y/N, do me a favor?”
“Kinda bad timing but yeah?” You responded.
Sam maneuvered and lifted you so that he was carrying you bridal style in his arms which resulted in you letting out a painful shout.
Summary:Working as a private tutor at the most prestigious university in the region, you had to put up with a lot of bratty kids. Though none were as bad as Park Jimin. Just as your luck would have it, you’ve been assigned to be his full-time tutor for the year….great. After many failed attempts to get his grades up, Jimin comes up with a bet to raise his marks. What’s the worst that can happen, right?
A/N - This is my fic, just re-posting on my sideblog!
You were grateful for this job, you really were. Some days, it was just really hard to be grateful. You worked at the wealthiest, all boys university this side of the country. You’re a private tutor, working with a maximum of five students a year. Things have been going well for you, you’re known as the best tutor at the school, so parents are flocking to you to help their precious spoiled brats. Hey, at least the money is decent.
Your whole week, scratch that, year has gone downhill the moment you get a call from the Dean.
“Y/n? Yes, hello. We’re going to need you to take on a student full time at the start of the new school year. I know this is a lot, so the pay will be increased, and you won’t have to take any other students. You will be tutoring five days a week for this student. Can you do it?”
“Um, yes, I don’t see why not…” growing a little curious as to why the dean himself is contacting you, you ask, “who is the student, Sir?”
“What’s up, Steve?” You glanced around the interrogation room in the Tower. “Why’d you want to meet up so early?”
“Just wanted to go over our tactic for this guy coming in.” Steve eyed you carefully. “Make sure we’re on the same page.”
“Punch him if he doesn’t talk.” You sat down in what was to be his chair. “Tighten the restraints if he refuses.” Steve nodded, hands behind his back. “Then do whatever we need to get the information out of him.”
“That’s correct.” Steve pulled a switch out of his pocket and flipped it on. “I’m sorry to have to do this.”
Metal restraints folded over your wrists and ankles and held you in place. Your eyes shifted to Steve as you squirmed in the uncomfortable chair. Steve sat the switch on the table and gave you his best apologetic smile.
“You can’t keep running out of the room when Bucky enters, (Y/N).” Steve bit his lip and smiled wearily. “And when you two are in a room together, you turn your inner air conditioner down and become ice cold.”
“Steve…” You growled and yanked on the restraints. “Let me go.”
“Not until you two talk.” Steve turned on his heels and swung the door open.
Bucky walked, a smirk plastered on his face, and you froze. Your face went dark and your stare hardened; butterflies fluttered in your stomach. Steve left you alone with Bucky. You hated him.
He fiddled with the switch in silence while leaning up against the table. He eyed you carefully, taking in every inch of your body. His smirk grew as he noticed your hardened nipples through your tank top; you were braless. He kept his mouth shut.
“Let me go, Barnes.” You grumbled the words. “Now.”
“No.” He spoke calmly. “I want to know why you hate me.”
“There are a lot of reasons why I hate you.” Your stare didn’t waver. “We would be here all day if I listed them all.”
“Then just summarize.” He continued smiling. “The more we bicker, doll, the longer you’re stuck alone in a room with me.”
“You’re a womanizing, arrogant, old ass, murdering, son of a bitch who walks around like he owns the place.” You spat the words at him. “You get to do whatever the fuck you want because you’re Steve’s best friend and Steve’s word is the highest. You don’t have to fill out paperwork, go on missions you don’t want to, hell, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“So, what I’m hearing is…” Bucky sat the switch down and walked towards you. He rested his hands onto of the metal restraints and leaned down to eye level. “You’re jealous?”
“I’m not jealous.” Your heart rate increased at the close proximity. “I’m angry.”
“See…” His eyes searched yours tentatively. “I don’t think you’re angry, doll. I think you’re confused.”
“About what?” You cocked an eyebrow at him and pouted your lips. “What could I possibly be confused about?”
“I think…” He leaned forward and brought his lips to your ear, just close enough to feel the warmth of his breath and nothing else. “That you might just like me.”
“What the fuck would make you think that?” You squirmed in your seat instinctively.
“Two nights ago…” He spoke slowly, drawing out each word with precision. “I took a nice midnight stroll around the halls…” You were sure he could hear the rapid pace of your heart in your chest. “And I came to your room.” You gulped, you knew damn well what he was leading up to. “Behind your door, I could hear the almost inaudible sounds of you moaning, whimpering, and begging, something I never thought I’d hear from you.” His lips brushed your ear. “At first, I thought you had a guy over and I started to walk away. I got about two steps passed your door when I heard my name sneak out of those beautiful lips of yours.” You bit your lip and closed your eyes. “You were moaning, whimpering, begging, and chanting my name while you were touching yourself.” He pulled away and stood up straight. “That’s why I think you might just like me.”
You were at a loss for words. Your eyes dropped to the ground and you remained silent. You thought over possible snarky responses, but your mind was blank. He was right, you liked him.
“And what if I did just happen to like you?” You refused to look up from the floor.
“I’d have to punish you for treating me so poorly because you couldn’t admit your feelings.” His words came out cold and you raised your eyes. The smirk was still there. “It’d only be fair, you know, given a number of times you brushed me off and treated me like shit.”
“And what kind of punishment would it be?” You couldn’t stop your words. “If I were to admit, you know, that I might just like you?”
Bucky watched you carefully, his blue eyes piercing your own. He stepped quietly behind you, hands resting in his pockets. He dropped his head and whispered in your ear, “May I touch you?” You nodded.
His hands rested firmly on your shoulders before he began massaging them. You sighed deeply at the contact and dropped your head back, hitting his stomach. Your eyes closed, not wanting to know if he could see the pleasure growing on your face just from a massage. A deep chuckle vibrated his body and his hands lowered to your clavicles.
“Well, a naughty girl gets a naughty punishment.” His hands dipped lower, hovering over your breasts. “Maybe I’d trap you before a mission, when I know you’ll be stuck with the team.” His fingers brushed your hardened nipples through the fabric of your shirt. “Pin you up against the wall…” He lifted the front of your shirt behind your head, exposing your breasts. “Slip my hand down those tight pants of yours…” His thumbs circled your nipples. “Tease that needing cunt of yours with a few flicks and circles to your clit…”
“Bucky…” You bit your lip to silence yourself.
“What? You like it when I talk about punishing you?” He lowered himself down and buried his face in your neck, drawing hickeys to the surface of your skin. “When I talk about getting you all wet and needy with my fingers?” His hands slithered down to your shorts and unbuttoned them. “Would you like that? Not being able to touch yourself for weeks on end?” His flesh hand traced the waistband of your panties. “Or would you touch yourself? Sneak off and curl two of your delicate fingers inside of yourself? Would you do that with the team members there? Where you could easily get caught fucking yourself?” His hand slipped underneath your panties and grazed your clit. “Could you be quiet enough? Your moaning, the sounds of your fingers working your aching cunt, the scream you want to let loose when you cum…”
“F-Fuck…” Your eyes opened and you saw Bucky looked at you; he was waiting.
“Do you want me to touch you?” He spoke quietly. “To dip my fingers inside of you and abuse that throbbing g-spot of yours until you’re begging me to cum?”
“Yes.” You breathed out the word and licked your lips. “Please.” You sounded desperate and you hated it, but, fuck, you wanted him, you wanted him to touch you, to feel just how wet you were, to fuck you. You craved him.
“Then I guess you’re going to have to wait until after you get back from your next mission.” Bucky removed his hand and backed away, flipping the switch to your chair before leaving.
You sat in a complete mess in the chair; your panties soaked, breasts exposed, hickey’s blatantly visible on your neck. You lowered your shirt and buttoned your shorts, disbelief taking over. No, that couldn’t have just happened. I just imagined the entire thing. I’m just laying in bed asleep right now and I’m going to wake up any second. Yeah, this is just a wet dream. I don’t even have any missions coming up, this has to be a dream. Come on, (Y/N), wake up.
Sam popped his head in and eyed you carefully. “You ready?”
“For what?” You collected yourself and stood from your chair, praying he couldn’t see how much of a mess you were.
“Barnes cancelled and said you’d take his spot on today’s mission. We’ll only be gone for a few days, a week at the latest.”
“What?” You furrowed your brows.
“C’mon, we’re running late as it is.” Sam waved you on.
You stepped out of the room and followed Sam down the hallway. You passed Bucky and Steve standing together. Bucky pulled out his phone and caught your eye; he winked before turning his attention back to his friend. Your phone vibrated.
“I may not have pinned you up against the wall, but leaving you begging works just as well.”
A/N: Lots of people voted for Bucky in my most recent “Pick a Pairing” post and so here you guys go!
In which you slow dance with the one and only Star-Lord. (insp.)
so desperately wanted to be called Star-Lord, but everyone called him Quill.
Except for you. You preferred to use Peter, and maybe that was why he fell in
love so hard. Rarely did anyone address him without a tinge of sarcasm or
playful banter in their voice—something he was very guilty of reciprocating—but
when you spoke to him, he felt validated in ways he never knew he could. You
gave him a sense of responsibility. A feeling of warmth and excitement. A drive
in life, fueled not by a desire for the admiration of others, but rather, a
need to make you feel the same way he did. Happy.
initial glimpse of Peter was the day of Ronan’s defeat. Hair disheveled.
Clothes torn. Face scratched up. He was dancing to a song you’d never heard,
and your entire body reacted. It tingled and shook from your toes, to your
heart strings, up your throat, to your brain where the sensation settled,
leaving only one thought. Shit. You’d gone through life thinking love at first
sight was nothing more than a myth. But there you were. In love. Or something
like it. You were stubborn when it came to things like that, so you chalked it
up to lust—somehow that felt more dignified.
was alcohol involved in your first encounter. That was always how these things
seemed to go. The big hero, off to celebrate at a local bar; you, the plain
civilian, coincidentally at the same place, standing in a corner. Music was playing, but the melodies were foreign,
and you could only assume that they were his. Most of them were upbeat, but
occasionally things would slow down a little, and that’s when he shined the
brightest. He’d move about the room fluidly, pulling the other patrons close.
Dipping them, spinning them, pressing his body against theirs. Leaving a trail
of longing eyes in his wake. You couldn’t help but feel jealous, but at the
same time, you were grateful. Unless you were alone in the safety of your room,
dancing was not your forte. And so you nursed your drink and watched.
moved closer and you got a better look at his face, confirming that he was the
most unrealistically handsome man you’d ever seen in your life. It was the sort
of thing that held a hypnotic element, capturing your eyes and refusing to let
them free of his spell. The sappiness of it all was enough to make you inwardly
wretch, but as the gap in proximity closed, it became harder to deny fact.
hi guys so my girlfriend’s name is blue sargent and this is why i love her
she accidentally became a vegetarian she just isn’t fond of meat so she eats so much yogurt and salads and totally packs fruit kebobs for lunch,,, what a nerd
she has an emergency sewing kit
henrietta high school legend says if you say “blue sargent” and spin around three times in the girls bathroom she’ll walk out of the stall and have the exact right button to replace the one that got ripped off your sweater
literal embodiment of “aesthetic or die”, she’d choose overheating in the middle of a virginia summer over ruining her look
“blue you look like you’re gonna pass out”
"i’m sorry, i misheard, i think you meant i look fucking great”
her guilty pleasure is 90′s boy bands she loves *nsync and backstreet boys and totally knows all the bad dance moves from the music videos
she’s tone deaf though can’t carry a tune to save her life but sings loud and proud anyway
she has a gap in her teeth just big enough to be noticeable, it whistles when she’s trying not to laugh
she’s a mug hoarder that brings tea up to her room but has like twelve mugs on her window sill from forgetting to bring them back down
her dad’s a fuckin woodland nymph so she’s ridiculously good with plants and her vegetable garden is the envy of the neighborhood
she’s a dog person she walks dogs as a job because she gets paid!!! to spend time with dogs!!! she loves it so much
once whipped out her switch on a boy twice her size for catcalling and scared the living daylights out of him,, attitude makes up for height and this girl’s got plenty of it
she’s not a bad student but she does get asked to leave class for sassing her teacher’s or telling them theyre wrong
“[insert historical figure] was gay”
“ms. sargent please don’t”
“history is so fucking gay you don’t understand-”
“please sit outside for the remainder of class”
*cue deep dramatic sigh from blue*
the teacher called maura, who laughed her ass off and hung up the phone
she was riding her bike home one day and was late because she got distracted talking to a homeless guy while waiting at an intersection and she bought him some mcdonalds and played cards with him
LOVES stargazing so much, persephone taught her the constellations when she was little
when she misses her she goes and sits under the stars with smelly tea, wearing a pair of persephone’s socks. she feels closer to her that way and it hurts a little less.
the gray man didn’t teach her how to fight, calla did.
by the time calla is done with her blue can flip ronan on his back
speaking of ronan him and blue are best friends i don’t make the rules these are just facts
she has dream hair clips that change color
she sewed pockets into all his jackets for chainsaw
theyre combat boot buddies
she is Tiny and rides on ronan’s back or shoulders
she has literally taken a running leap and jumped on his back while he was in the middle of a conversation and he didn’t falter in the slightest
he rips up clothes for her so she can get that Punk Aesthetic
she gives the best hugs on the planet she is a tiny lady but will pull you in so tight and you can rest your head on her soft hair,,, wow
her nail polish is always chipped it lasts like an hour tops
there’s always kids running around the house and she is so good with them, playing tag, teaching them crafts and cool friendship bracelet patterns and she wears all the ones they make for her
you think ronan cusses up a storm? blue could give him a run for his money the girl’s got a mouth like a sailor
loves yoga but only knows like 6 poses that she does over and over, calla judges her
“blue why are you laying on the ground”
“im doing yoga. its called corpse pose. leave me alone youre fucking up my zen.”
corpse pose is a lie it’s literally laying on the ground
I look down,
Analyzing my figure,
Trying to find any flaw you might see in advance.
A moment passes and I lift my head.
“There’s one thing the Christians got right, daughter,”
Aphrodite’s voice echoes in my head,
Every fiber of my being,
“You were made in the image of your Creator,
And I challenge anyone to find flaw
In the body of Aphrodite.”
Aries: The Plan (Fuck Jobs) Never underestimate Poor, hungry and desperate My body is a temple How much you think I could get for it? And I will take cold showers from now on until I learn That once you fuck the fire all that’s left to do is burn Baby, burn, baby, burn
Taurus: Everything I Own It’s reached the point in the night where I need to decide Whether I’m gonna fall asleep or watch the sunrise We are both into letting this develop But the thought of starting over always sounded so much better But I won’t stop this, and you won’t stop this It’ll probably go further than either of us wanted And it all comes down to the fact that I don’t care to Sacrifice a good time ‘cause someone says I have to
Gemini: More Than It Hurts You Talk to myself too often trying hard to figure out Why all these feelings that lie in my stomach Are always pushing for my mouth So I will learn to sleep on my chest And I will learn to let things go And I will learn to come to terms with the things that I will never know
Cancer: Jim Bogart I would stop doing all those things the doctor tells me not to do But I don’t think he understands, I do all of these things for you And you’ve got gold plastic on your shelf that they gave to everybody else And you can say it says your name but I don’t think that that would help
Leo: Be Nice To Me You’re a flashlight in a dark room for the loneliest black-out You were all that we had left after it all was filtered out Turn you on in a dark room right before we both pass out Turn you on when I need you, but the batteries ran out They ran out
Virgo: Lipstick Covered Magnet Pretend that this is fake It helps to kill the pain All that you want is different All that you’ll get is same There’s nothing more to say I think I’ve said it all I’m sitting on the edge I’m waiting for the fall.
Libra: Backflip One day I will realize I don’t need this because it is just not who I am Until that day comes, I’ll keep my eyes closed, and I will try to feel all of the effects Yeah, I will try to feel all of the effects And now I am talking way too fast and a little bit louder than I should, Trying to say thank you for understanding my side of the story the best that you could My side of the story the best that you could My side of the story the best that you could The best that you could
Scorpio: Peach One day you will find someone who will love you like you deserve But tonight I’m the only one left and I’m betting it’s a fact that you will never learn Once I sink my teeth, your skin’s not so toughI’ll leave a tiny cut, there’ll be a lot of blood But once you wipe it up you will feel better about our entire situation
Sagittarius: Boredom Is The Reason I Started Swimming. It’s Also The Reason I Started Sinking Keep it simple and honest Stop crying, you’re an adult I could stand up, I could man up It’s just so convenient to be fragile This pain is constant and sharp Watching the signals that you send I wanna feel lethal on the inside I wanna read American Psycho again
Capricorn: Skeleton I walk around like a skeleton last night Confused and alone Who was I kidding I cant get past you, You are the cops, you are my student loans You are a head shaped hole In a sheet rock wall You are the pain I feel You are the stud in the wall Better than nothing at all
Aquarius: Swear To God The Devil Made Me Do It I wanna make tear-jerking-shower-curtain-camera’s-running genius I wanna make them think they’re seeing something they ain’t never seen before But I am full of shit, I’m a plagiarist As a liar, I’m a ten I just want this to mean something to anyone even if they don’t know who I am I am, I am, I am
Pisces: Just As Big Twice As Swollen Hey, sweetheart, where’d you get those eyes? Do you think that I could have a pair? Love the way that they glaze over No point in pretending that we care There are cracks between the concrete that we will all fill up with time If you wanna move ahead, you will have to leave me behind
imagine surviving a zombie outbreak with jungkook.
—obviously inspired by dead days.
the day they announced it a pandemic jungkook rushed home from school and waited for his parents to come home; they never did.
he’s among the first to realise if he wants help his best bet is to go out there and find it.
also he’s hopeless at rationing food, so he has to get moving soon.
having observed the undead from his window, jungkook knows he’ll have to kill to survive, and after seeing what they’re capable of he quickly comes to terms with that fact.
meaning his neighbour’s beagle somehow got out on day three, so on day four he drops his dad’s bowling ball from the balcony onto the head of the zombie that killed it.
and after his first kill spends the day dissociating and dry-heaving.
when over a week has passed he packs necessities and what little food he has left and straps on a few pieces of protective gear, left over from sports he’s played over the years, opting for maximum mobility.
those necessities include: all the wet wipes, antiperspirant, toothbrush, toothpaste, clean shirts, soap, first aid kit, his mother’s perfume.
jeon jungkook, nicest smelling boy in the entire zombie apocalypse.
because that’s how he clings to his humanity, to the remnants of civilisation: hygiene.
he’ll eat actual garbage but he’s gotta feel clean while doing it.
everyone’s got their Thing, and that’s his.
anyway after the chaos of that first week a deafening silence settles in the building you live in. so when you hear one of the doors to the stairwell open, you immediately rush to the peephole to see who’s stupid enough to venture into the stairwell.
of course it’s jungkook.
you go to the same school as jungkook, and while he may not know you, he has quite the reputation himself, as far as beating almost every sporting record he set his mind to goes, except archery.
when he passes by you call out to him through the door and the poor boy nearly shits himself. he’s still there though, when you open the door and tell him you know him from school.
you let him in and, much to your surprise, he seems to recognise you, he even gets your name right on the second try.
you’re in the same situation as him, all alone and beginning to lose hope that help would eventually come, you had even begun preparing to leave.
your dad had taken the bike to work that fateful morning one week ago and now you hold up his car-keys for jungkook to see, “can you drive?”
“i can try,” jungkook never got the chance to pass his test, but he’s your best bet, just as you’re his.
and that’s how you two end up more or less driving off into the sunset together, to survive another day.
“wait, was it you who dropped that bowling ball on mr. evans from 81b?”
you’re in charge of rations, because jungkook is not to be trusted around the food and he’s not too proud to admit it.
he deadass wants to go live in the mountains until all this has passed and you’re like ?? i’m not starving to death jeon forget it.
you constantly have to remind him he’s not bear grylls.
which isn’t easy because he’s somehow got eagle scout level survivor skills despite only having been camping like once when he was five.
and honES TL Y the legs on this boy, good luck keeping up with him it’d be quicker if he carried you everywhere.
on that note he carries you on his back whenever you’re tired or injured.
and he still finds time to be childish and playful.
there’s a tree in your path? you bet he’s gonna fucking climb it. passing an abandoned playground? before you can blink he’s on the jungle gym like “look at me!!!!!!”
will insists he’s “scouting.”
and it’s the little things that keep you sane. jungkook wanted to be a singer and when he feels safe has a tendency to hum and sing to himself.
insists he needs less sleep than you so he always takes first watch, and when you can’t sleep you coax him into singing for you.
just kinda vocalises his way through the lyrics he doesn’t remember, because he has no way of looking them up. and also through the sexual lyrics because welp awkward.
eventually you know his entire repertoire and can even make requests.
he exercises to stay awake. like, you wake up in the middle of the night because you think you heard a zombie groan but it’s just jungkook doing sit-ups next to you.
senses you stirring and starts muttering “hundred and six, hundred and seven, hundred and-” but let’s be real he only did like, eleven.
also otherwise doing press-ups whenever he finds a flat, uncluttered surface. where’s jeon ?? probably on the ground around here somewhere like “ah, this is tiring.”
and you’re like “how?? why?? you’ve only had a can of tuna to eat in two days, where do you even get the energy??”
“gotta stay in shape if i’m gonna keep saving your clumsy ass.”
he’s so apprehensive of the other survivors you cross paths with some of them genuinely thought he was mute.
until they try to separate the two of you because jungkook is not fucking having that no way do you wanna wrestle or what
imagine you get to shower for the first time in a while and jungkook insists you go first because he’ll just use all the water, so you suggest you just shower together and make the best of what little water you have.
can’t look you in the eyes for a while after that because he’s seen you naked now and you smell nicer than you have in weeks.
imagine huddling for warmth, and cuddling for comfort.
or patching him up after another close call.
you have to be the responsible one, the decisive one, but in return jungkook will be your rock, your protector, steadfast and strong, never cracking under pressure, not even the weight of the world ending can faze him when he has you to worry about.
it doesn’t take long for him to realise that he could never leave you behind. he’ll carry you to the literal end of the world if he has to, doesn’t matter if it kills him; he’s not facing the apocalypse without you.
after almost losing you once, he confesses that the way he sees it he has no reason to carry on without you. he lives and survives to protect you.
never whines that he’s hungry or tired, because he knows you are too. he might complain that his clothes smell, or that he hasn’t washed in a while, but whenever you ask if he’s alright the answer is always going to be that he’s “okay if you are.”
Request: Can you write one where Buckys gf has a 5 yr old daughter
who’s very attached to him? She tells her class that her daddy’s an avenger and
some of them tease her saying she’s lying. She’s in tears at the end of the day
and tells her mom what happened. She tells Bucky so he picks her up the next
day and she runs to his arms calling him daddy and he’s so happy to be a dad to
this little girl The other kids are awestruck seeing him
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Fluff, Dad!Bucky
Word Count: 1347
A/N: dad bucky fucks me up. let me know what you think. requests are open and let me know if you want to be on my taglist.
“Ava! C’mon, we can’t be late. School starts in half an
hour! Say bye to Bucky and meet me at the car.” You shouted at your
five-year-old. She loved Bucky Barnes, your boyfriend. She even started to call
Today was her first day of kindergarten. She was super
excited. She wanted to make friends and she wanted to meet her nice teachers. You
watched from the car as Bucky walked her to the front porch. He bent down to
her pint-sized height, and gave her a big hug. He couldn’t take her to school
because Steve needed him for training in the morning.
Ava made her way carefully down the stairs to your little
car. She was big enough to get herself into the car seat. You missed the days
where you had to help her. She was just getting so big and you knew today was
going to be emotional for you. You wished Bucky could’ve been there with you.
There wasn’t going to be anyone to pry you away from the school when Ava gets
dropped off. Today was going to be hard for you.
Characters- Dean x Reader, Sam Summary- Dean comes back from a witch hunt not quite himself. You do your best to help, and hope that it’s enough. Word Count- 1,889 Warnings- Angst, Fluff, Language. Beta- @jpadjackles
A/N- Prompt: ‘Caught Up In You’ by 38 Special Requested by @anon. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, thank you all so much for 2.5k followers! I love y’all so much <3
As you crouch in front of the open passenger door, you look over the man in the bench seat. The man you see is far removed from the usual Dean Winchester you knew. He’s eerily quiet, sitting stiffly as he stares, unseeing, out of the windshield. The impala is parked in the bunker’s garage, but he just sits there, motionless, except for the occasional lethargic blink.
When Sam and Dean came back from their hunt, you expected them to be in one of two moods. The first and most preferred was the giddy excitement of a job well done, beers and pie all around. The second was less desired, the quiet thoughtfulness of a rough hunt.
It took me a month, but I finally did it. If you haven’t read the first part, you can so here. I also want to thank @twerkit-hxrry for being my eyes and ears throughout this grueling ordeal, and for helping me write the ‘Niall bathroom scene’. Seriously, thank you.
This part is a little shorter than the one before, but there’s still more to come with these two. And with that being said, enjoy. x
Harry was fucked.
He knew it from the moment he opened Instagram to find you had gracefully accepted his follower request, and was met with what he could only describe as ‘the most strikingly beautiful selfie to ever grace the palms of the earth’ – and what didn’t help was it was the same picture you had taken on his sofa only the day before, an empty chow mien box laid discarded on the table by your side.
The caption read: ‘Chow mieny soy sauce you want?’
A heavy quake erupted deep in Harry’s throat, a sound he could only describe as an unmanly squawk, and he instantly goes to cover his agape expression as he retains the joke he had told you just the night before.
He doesn’t take a second to think before he quickly double taps the photo, only just before noticing Niall had gotten there first, and continues scrolling.
It’s only a quarter passed eleven that morning, and you’ve been gone for two hours, and the one thing keeping him calmly situated in the comfort of his sofa is your scent left lingering on the hoodie he has taken upon wearing the moment you stepped foot out of his house – the same hoodie you claimed as your own the night before when, after grumpily swinging your legs over the sofa with a deep exhale, you trudged over to his wing chair to steal the Muscle Machine hoodie he had hanging over the back.
“Were you born in the Arctic?”
After sharing your intricate meal of Chinese takeaway, it was left to his surprise when you brought up the idea to break out the wine, and it dawned on Harry quickly that the second you start to bat your eyelashes and pout your lip out, there’s no way he could ever say no to you.
Another thing he learned about you was you were, in fact, very dangerous.