now excuse me while i sit in my corner and cry

He tries to make you jealous (Zach Dempsey)

shit, so i’ve been in love with thirteen reasons why recently. it’s got me hooked. zach dempsey has been one of my crushes on the show, so here’s one based on this prompt. i’d love taking suggestions! ring me up if you have any ideas- or, better yet, drop by my ask if you want me to make any more for you.

prompt: “i like you a lot, so i tried getting you jealous,” ft. zachary dempsey

Originally posted by pitterpratter


“Ah shit, Y/N,” Jess Davis groans as she wiggles into the tight row of cushioned chairs, trying to make her way to the middle of the line next to you. You giggle as the popcorn spills all around her clenched hand and into the laps of everyone nearby. There are whimpers of “Sorry, sorry!” and grunts before she finally lands into the cushioned chair next to you and sighs. “Ah Jesus, I didn’t know that would be so hard.”

"Maybe you should lay off the gummy worms,” You put in, and laugh as she glares at you and hits your arm. Your hand digs in the popcorn and you stuff a handful into your mouth, the satisfying crunch as you chew making you moan. Ah, popcorn. Jess rips open a pack of the gummies and snorts at you. “Maybe save those noises for Dempsey, hon.”

You choke on a kernel as she purses her lips trying not to laugh, her eyes steadying on the previews onscreen. A few snickers make it out either way, and you scowl at her and stuff more handfuls in your mouth.

Zach Dempsey and you, to put it lightly, were not friends. It was difficult to push you into a room together and not expect a night of sour jabs and endless bickering. Everyone at school knew it, and it was something that happened way before you were even freshmen. There was never a time you weren’t at each other’s throats. One time, he’d spilled liquor down the front of your dress at some party and you’d hidden his pants in a bush while he was in the hot tub later that night. Lately it’d been more of a joke between your friends, with Jessica mockingly swooning how romantic you two would be. 

The lights start to dim and you wiggle back into your seat, ready for some good old romcom- and then the Paramount clip cuts into black for a moment, making you groan and try to dodge whoever was blocking your view. You crane your entire body and glare daggers at the idiot who interrupted your film before it even started. You loved your movies, and you were pretty serious about getting the “full movie theatre experience” (which Jess liked to mock). Please, you were paying a good four dollars for a movie you could watch for free online. Your eyes rise up to the back of his head, taking in a mess of straight black hair, broad shoulders and the school’s infamous Letterman jacket hanging on them. You memorized the back of that head. You knew those shoulders.

It was Zach Dempsey. With him were Jason Friar and Justin Foley, all wearing their Lettermans. You felt Jess shift in her seat at the sight of them. Wrapped in Zach’s arm was a smaller girl, snuggled into his shirt and playing with his fingers around her neck. They scooched into the seats almost directly in front of you, with the girl turning her head suddenly and getting the tips of her ponytail in Zach’s mouth. He swats it away, annoyed, but smiles instantly when she turns her head to look at him.

“Oh no,” You moan, making Jess snicker at you. You don’t miss the way her eyes flicker to Foley and turn away. “Just what I needed.”

"Who’s the girl?” Jess wonders, squinting. “Not a cheerleader. That’s Jenny, I think. Or her friend Bryana. I can’t be sure. We have Com with them.”

"Ugh, who cares,” You roll your eyes and try to turn to the movie. As long as they don’t ruin your film. This was some good stuff showing- if you focused enough, maybe you could ignore them. Jess shrugs and follows suit. You take a sip of your cherry cola as Martin Freeman jogs up into the scene.

The movie drifts by, but you find that you don’t enjoy it as much as you would have. Your eyes keep landing on the back of Dempsey’s head- and as much as you hated it, his arm around the girl’s. Your popcorn started tasting sour. You focus on some surfer guy’s abs an hour in but your mind keeps drifting somewhere else. Suddenly, before you can even blink, Zach cranes his neck slowly and looks directly at you, as if he knew you were there the entire time. He catches you looking and his cheeks tinge pink as he whips back around. Jess snickers. “That’s like, the fourth time he’s done that.”

"What?” You blink. Wouldn’t you have noticed? Jess takes a slurp of her drink. “Yeah, didn’t you notice? I mean, he’s had like two bathroom breaks. Both times he’d looked right at you before he took his seat.”

You decide not to say anything and reach out for a gummy worm. You keep watch, but Zach never craned his head again.

The movie ends before you know it, and Jess is a mess. You can’t stop laughing at her state, and after a while she laughs with you and dabs at her tears with paper napkins, but her mascara’s everywhere. “Shit, Y/N, why aren’t you crying with me?” She scowls, and starts hicupping. You try to hide your smile. You find it best not to tell her that you were staring at other things than the movie.

The lights flick back on and the people file out. You grab your empty popcorn buckets and leave, but not before Jess excuses herself to the comfort room to freshen up. You drop the buckets in the trash can near the snacks counter in the lobby and wait for her, waving a hand at Hannah Baker, who was filling up drinks at the soda fountain. Your hand travels to your back pocket and realize your phone is missing, so you run back into the cinema’s swinging doors hoping not to find it lodged in between seats with a wad of chewed up gum.

You find something even more tramautizing. Sitting on Zach Dempsey’s lap was his date, clutching his face with her pale hands and making out with him. He’s fidgeting in his seat, but trying to keep still. You note that his hands are on the cup holders and not on her waist. Your face screws up and you groan in disgust, picking your phone up from floor. “Christ, Dempsey, get a room.”

Zach’s eyes widen and he scrambles up, pushing the girl out of his lap. “Yeah? Well, this was an empty room ‘til you showed up, Y/N.”

You snort, tucking your phone into your back pocket. “You’re a pig, Dempsey.” There are mumbles of "Ooh”’s from Foley as you stalk back to the entrance, where Jess was waiting for you, ready for some milkshakes at Rosie’s. You loop your arm in hers, failing to hear the “Shit, man,” and swears from inside the theatre.

-

You head into school next Monday with a great start, munching on your bagel as you make it to your locker. You’re wearing an oversized hoodie and high waisted jeans, but it doesn’t stop the jocks from whistling when you pass by. You roll your eyes at them and chew on your bagel as you turn the corner. High school boys were too immature. No wonder you never found the want to date one.

Passing by you in the hallway was Zach Dempsey, crowded with his band of loud friends who are laughing and pushing each other. You meet his eye and he stops, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. You roll your eyes and look away, and you can almost hear him sigh in defeat. Someone slaps him on the shoulder and whistles as you walk by. “Daaamn, Dempsey, you gotta let us share.” You don’t see him shove the guy and stalk off.

The first half of the day passes by like a breeze. By the time fourth period ends, you barely feel like the day has started. You head out for the cafeteria, stacking all your books in your arms and making it through the door, but it wasn’t long before you could hear footsteps running after you. “Hey, wait up, Y/N!”

You turn around and groan, continuing to walk. “Dempsey.” You try not to glance as he jogs up next to you and ruffles his hair, staring at you with this half grin of his you didn’t want to admit you liked.

“Uh, hey.” “Something you need?”

“No, uh, actually, I wanted to talk to you.” He looks at you sheepishly.

“Okay, talk.”

“Um, you look nice today,” He offers, biting his cheek. You stop, staring at him in disgust. “What?” He trails. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding with me.” You shake your head in disbelief and keep walking.

“What’s wrong?” He keeps up. “Seriously, Dempsey, are you hitting on me now?” “And why would that be so terrible?”

“Geez, Dempsey, what is wrong with you?” You deadpan. “You are such an ass, you know that? Do you always treat girls like shit?” You gape at his blank face. “Jenny. From last Saturday. You think it’s OK to throw girls around like that?”

“What? No! I- uh, Jenny and I aren’t serious, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He winces, scratching his neck.

“Yeah, right. Of course not.”

“Look, can I take you out this weekend? To Rosie’s maybe? I’ve wanted to maybe get to be with you out of school. We could go to the movies?” You’re at the cafeteria doors now, but Zach shuts them with his left arm, blocking the way in front of you. You snort. “You can’t be serious.” You watch as his face falls and his mouth twitches.

“What’s so bad about going out with me?”

“God, you are such a jerk, Zach!” You groan, throwing your free hand in exasperation. He winces at the sound of his name being used so hatefully- he’s only ever heard you say Dempsey. He tries to forget about all the times he’s dreamed of his name coming out of your mouth, but decides he hates it when you yell it at him. “You think it’s fun, don’t you? Having no respect for girls whatsoever. You get off buttering them up with kisses and flowers and take them to the movies only to ignore them completely a day or two later. Who, in their right mind, would ever want to go out with someone like you?”

“I only ever wanted to go to that fucking movie theatre because I heard you were going to be there!” His voice rises to a shout. It echoed through the halls, and you wince knowing someone would hear. “You think I wanted to watch that stupid chick flick, with all that shit about high heels and prom? Fuck, I never even liked Jen! Why would I when I’ve always wanted someone else?”

His breath was heavy. Suddenly it was hard to swallow. You try to stand your ground, staring at him. “Nice one. You think it’d be easy for me to believe that, what with your list of conquests and a new girl making out on your desk each week? You must be daft, Zach Dempsey.”

He scowls. “I never wanted them. Never. I just- I just thought that maybe if you saw that everyone wanted me, just maybe you would have wanted me too.” His face softens, and he starts fiddling with his fingers. “Okay, I get it. You could never want me. I know, I just thought I could change that somehow. I’m used to getting my way, you know. Girls flock me, throw themselves at me. I’m used to getting everything I want, but then you’re here, in front of me, and fuck, I’ve never wanted to kiss anything more in my life.”

“Okay,” You say softly, before you can stop yourself. He barely hears it, but his ears perk up. “What’d you say?”

“I said okay,” You clear your throat, and bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling as his lips form into a helpless grin. “Saturday night, Rosie’s?”
“Fuck yes!” He fistbumps the air, then stops as soon as he realises you’re still in front of him. You giggle and hide your face in your hands as he leans forward without thinking, grabbing you by the waist and lifting you in the air. You couldn’t help your cheeks from turning red. Zach Dempsey was adorable. He really was.

“Okay, I’ll see you in Trig?” He asks, palming his phone in his front pocket. He’d have to tell Foley, he was thinking. Man, his best friend would be so proud. His head was rushing when he swooped in and pressed his lips to your flushed cheek. “I can’t wait.”




thanks for sticking around! give this a heart and reblog if you want more, and follow my blog if you want to be notified overtime i post a new imagine! this is a brand new blog and i’m so excited to see what ideas you might have for me.

Cold As Ice

Originally posted by v-writings

Peter Parker x Shy Reader

Request: Yes

Summary: After discovering their powers and wanting to save a troubled citizen, the Reader is left to dealt with the consequences, but ends up finding out a certain secret from a certain spiderling instead.

Word Count: 3,180 (omg)

Warnings: Language, cuteness, discovery of powers, fluff, fight scene, shy!Reader, *slight* assault scene, suck-ass ending (bc I’m trash and I suck at writing), (Please let me know if I missed anything).

A/N: For some reason, I had such a hard time making a summary for this ?? Hopefully the anon that requested this thinks it’s okay. :// I’m slowly moving through all my requests (I have a lot lol). Anyway, let me know what you think as always and enjoy reading!


Walking into Midtown High, you cautiously grudge towards your locker in order to get your books for today’s classes.

These past few days have been strange, to say the least.

Despite it being almost the end of the school year and the hot weather finally arriving, you somehow felt cold to your bones.

Instead of wearing short sleeves and shorts, you started dressing in sweatshirts and pants.

Maybe I’m getting sick…?

Maybe it’s just the chills…?

You kept making excuses like that, but the coldness never seemed to go away.

It’s been happening for a couple weeks now, but you didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t know what this was.

Well, not until today.

Keep reading

Meeting the Family

Prompt: Batfam meets Batmom’s large extended family

AN: I interrupt our string of votes to bring you an actual story. Enjoy!

Words: 1490


          You’re more than a little surprised when your brother walks through your office door. Though not technically an employee of Wayne Enterprises, your office space is still in the building, just one of the perks of your husband owning the building. That also means your security is top notch, and well, you haven’t seen anyone from your family in about ten years.

          All of this is what’s running through your mind as your brother, your baby brother just stands there and fidgets. “You’re still drifting off I see.”

          You shrug and point to one of the chairs, on the opposite side of the room. There’s several minutes of silence, as you take in the changes on your brother, before you ask, “What are you doing here, Ricky?”

          “Mom’s in the hospital … It’s bad. She wants to see you.”

          That takes you by surprise. Your fight was never with your mother; it was just a side effect of the war with your father. “What’s wrong?”

          He shrugs. “Kidney failure, she wants to come off treatment. She won’t listen to anyone. The doctors say she still has a chance you know. If she continues her treatments, and waits for a transplant. Either way she wants to see you.” You open your mouth to say something but he stops you “This isn’t about dad, it’s about mom. The fight wasn’t with her, it wasn’t with any of us but dad. It was you who chose to leave. It was you who cut us off.”

          You nod. “You’re right, I did.”

          “She’s your mother, and she’s dying. You should see her.”

          “I won’t make any promises.”

          Your brother stares at you for a moment before laying an envelope on the table, and walking out.

          You debate on going for several days. Bruce is out of town on business for the week, and the boys are all gone as well. It’s just you and Alfred in the manor. And while the butler doesn’t pry he does acknowledge something is wrong.

          It all comes out two nights later about the fight that separated you from your family. The fight that ended up leading you to Bruce. The fight that led the two of you to each of the boys. “It’s weird how a fight that, at that time, nearly ended my world, led me to a brand new one. One I wouldn’t change for the world. “

          Alfred just smiles. “If you called Master Bruce he’d return home to go with you.”

          You shake your head. “No, I think this is something I need to do alone.”

          You’re packed and out the door several hours later. You catch a last minute flight, and you just go. It’s nearly midnight when you get to the hospital, suitcase in tow. You follow the nurse to her room. She leaves you at the door with instructions, to try and not wake her. You agree and slip into the room.

          Your eyes focus on the woman in the bed. She looks frail, and much too thin. Her hair though is still brushed, and delicately styled, your sister’s doing no doubt. And she’s dressed in nice looking pajamas.

          You prop your suitcase against the wall and move to the chair beside her bed. You just sit there staring at her. You study the changes and with a feeling of sadness you realize she’s actually gotten older, not old, just older. At the same time, it hits you. You’ve gotten older too. You have a husband, and kids now. You have a successful business. Things have changed not only for you, but for them as well.

At some point in the night, you turn to a book. You’re nearly halfway through when a voice whispers, “You always did have your nose in a book. Couldn’t get enough of them. You’d always beg her for one more chapter when she’d read to you before bed.”

You book mark your page and turn towards the voice. Your father is still very much like how you remembered him. He’s tall, and wide, but his hair has a lot more gray in it now, and there are more lines along his face.

He gestures with his head and you follow him out. “I didn’t expect you to come.”

You cross your arms. “I wasn’t completely sure I would myself.”

“She’ll be happy to see you.” You just acknowledge the statement with a nod. “I suppose we need to talk.”

You shrug, suddenly feeling like that twenty something again. “I don’t see why. We both said all we needed to all those years ago.”

He looks you in the eye and says, “I want to make things right.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

“It’s been ten years.”

“And a lot has changed in those years. Right now, I’m here for Mom.”

“Which means you’re here for me. She wanted you here so we could settle things. She wanted to make sure that you had your family in case something went wrong, or something went right. She wanted you to have us around for when you got married, when you have kids. She’s terrified you’ll be alone.”

“And what do you want?” You ask. He just looks at you confused. You shrug and say, “So far everything has been about what Mom wants. What do you want?”

He stares at you for a minute before he says “I want my daughter back.”

You nod. “Small steps. This was a good first one.”

Without another word, you slip back into the room. Your father is right behind you and he takes the seat on the opposite side of the bed. Neither of you say anything, but you don’t go back to your book either.

          Your mother wakes up at about eight in the morning. She opens her eyes and she comes to life. There’s tears when she sees you, and a lot of saying sorry on both your parts. Your father just watches. You take her hand and don’t let go for several hours.

          Over the next several days you see a lot of family you haven’t seen in a long time. Some greet you with smiles, others with nods. Overall, you spend a lot of time with your mother and siblings. Things start looking up, and then suddenly something happens. No one’s quite sure what, but suddenly her blood pressure starts to drop, and you’re pushed out of the room, as she’s rushed back to emergency surgery.

          You’re a bit disoriented, as you watch the family surround each other. You consider joining in, but they’ve formed this little cocoon, and you can’t help but feel there isn’t a place for you there anymore.

          You watch from the outside, your arms wrapped around yourself. Till a noise you’d know anywhere hits your ears. A very tired looking Bruce rounds the corner, with the boys trailing after him. Dick and Jason are on the lookout for you while Tim and Damian bicker about something.

          You smile as Bruce’s eyes lock onto you. You meet him halfway, and he pulls you into an embrace. That feeling of safeness washes over you, and you allow the tears to come. Bruce guides you away from your family and suddenly the boys are all trying to reach you.

          They’ve never seen you cry, and you imagine it’s a bit unsettling for them. You hug and kiss each of them, before explaining the situation. Bruce disappears, and once you’ve collected yourself, they go with you back to the waiting room.

          You can see the curious looks on your family’s faces. And you do your best to smile and say, “Everyone, these are my sons. This is Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. And my husband Bruce will be along any minute.”

          Almost if by magic, Bruce appears and says, “I’ve got her moved to a better hospital room, a private room. Not a private room, that can be turned into a semi private hospital. I’ve also called Lee, she’s flying in to take a look, and she has some recommendations for doctors that might be able to help her a bit more until she comes up on the transplant list.”

          Before you can even say ‘thank you’, your brother says, “And where the hell is all that money coming from?”

          Bruce just raises an eyebrow and says, “Me. I suppose I should introduce myself. I’m Y/N’s husband, Bruce Wayne. I’ve take care of her medical bills, everything is settled. And my company donates quite a bit of money to this hospital every year, so they’ve comped the private room. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get my wife something to eat.”

          Without another word he begins guiding you down the hallway, the boys following behind, with smiles on their faces; and you can’t help but smile, because your family is right here with you.

i had the weirdest dream so obviously i had to write a fic about it

-

They met at the park. It could have been a meet-cute, except Derek doesn’t do cute so it ended up just being weird.

Derek was taking Nora for a walk like he always does when she decided it would be a good idea to chase a squirrel and practically dragged him around, only stopping when another dog got in her way – probably chasing the squirrel too – and they started growling at each other.

“Hey, man. Control your dog, I’m not ready to be a grandpa!”

“My dog is a female.” Derek said, tried not to stare at the other guy’s hands as he struggled to hold his dog back.

“Well,” the other guy said, “how can you know under all – that.” He gestured towards Nora.

“She’s an Alaskan malamute.” Derek took a step back, dragging Nora away from asshole-guy and his dalmatian. “Much better than a dog that you don’t know if it’s white or black.”

The other guy stopped, looked between Derek and his dog. “How dare you.” He narrowed his eyes. “Leia is beautiful.

“Leia?” Derek asked, smirking. “What happened to creativity these days?”

“I’ll show you creativity.” The guy growled, much like Nora was doing, then took Derek’s hand, dragged him towards a bench and started to list all the reasons he named his dog after Princess Leia.

Nora and Leia ended up getting along fabulously, and as fate would have it, so did their owners.


“Unfair.” Stiles mumbles, watching as Derek heads to the bathroom. “I’m supposed to be going to work. Stop teasing me.”

Derek smirks over his shoulder. “Are you sure? I was going to ask you to join me in the shower.”

Gah.” Stiles says as his dick responds to Derek’s smile. “I hate you.”

Derek laughs. “I know.” He walks into the shower, moans purposefully loud when the hot water hits his body. Stiles yells at him to shut up and seconds later he’s joining Derek under the spray.

“You’re gonna kill me.” He leans in for a kiss, nips at Derek’s bottom lip as he runs his hands over Derek’s wet chest. “Fuck,” he moans when Derek presses him against the wall, rubs their dicks together, “you’re awful.”

Derek bites softly at Stiles’ pulse point, enjoys the moan it elicits from him. He’s always talking, moaning, yelling, seriously, Derek is the one who’s going to die here.

It’s been two months and they aren’t even close to getting tired from each other. It’s still hot, fun and - even more - exciting. Sometimes, in between fixing a car or two, Derek checks his phone, sends messages to Stiles, some of them explicit others just telling him about his day, the awful clients that destroy their cars and ask Derek to perform miracles. Other times, it’s Stiles that calls him, rambles about his dad and Leia, about his friends and what he ate that morning.

They haven’t talked about what they are – if they are something – but Stiles doesn’t seem in a hurry, so Derek isn’t going to force him, as much as he wants to.

Really, Derek’s got it so bad even his boss noticed and he’s seventy.

Keep reading

Lock and Key (M)

*I am so tired*

Requests: Anon asked “Can you make like a dirty y/n imagine of Jimin please??” + @bangtanofarmys asked “ FUCK FUCK FUCK OMG FINALLY SOMEONE’S REQUEST IS OPEN. Ok I want to request a rough Jimin smut, with daddy kink and stuff BECAUSE IM SO TIRED OF BEING REQUESTED AND NOT REQUEST T-T “ you’re so cute wtf 

Word Count: 10.8k bc I don’t know when to stop


Another mundane day has come to pass, your best friend’s arm slung over your shoulders as you soak up the blinding sunrays on your skin. The sun pressed harsh kisses on your delicate skin, a definite burn accompanied by heavy sweating was just the peak of your day. You could barely remember the words of your professor, zoned out and ready to slump into your couch for two days.

Anthropology was fun when you still had your first year jitters, excited to be in university and getting a degree in something you loved. Now, a few weeks into your second year, you wished the years would just pass by.

Distracted by your internal monologue, you barely caught the bus on time, the driver ready to zoom through traffic and you waved your hand out wildly to catch his attention. You stumbled into a seat, the bus moving no less than a second after you got on.

Mindlessly watching the street signs while numerous people leaving and entering the bus, you get off at the stop near your house. You kick off your shoes, dropping your bag on the shoe rack and you heard a broken sob.

“Mom? Dad?” You went into the kitchen, followed by a set of sniffling before going into the living room. Your father held your mother in a consoling way, her hands clinging onto his red sweater. She grabbed a tissue and blew into it.

“Mom? Why are you crying? What happened?”

Keep reading

Friends - Tom Holland x Reader imagine

Title: Friends
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Synopsis: Friends just sleep in another bed and friends don’t treat me like you do. I know that there’s a limit to everything but my friends won’t love me like you.
Word Count: 4.7k
WARNING: NSFW, 18+, includes smut and swearing
A/N: yet another collab with nat aka @peterfuckinparker​, oops? also, listen to friends by ed sheeran before/whilst you read, ok????

Keep reading

BTS Scenario: Discipline

Jeon Jungkook X Reader

Genres: Smut, Spanking, Fingering, Blowjob 

Summary: After seeing you getting closer to another member, Jungkook decides that he needs to teach you a lesson about keeping your hands to yourself.

Word Count: 2.3k

Thank you to anon for the request!

The dorm was filled with chatter after the boys had finished their evening practice; the room mingled with sweat and loud voices. You threw your head back in laughter as Jimin cracked another joke, raising a hand to grab his arm in an attempt to steady yourself. He leaned forward to butt his head against your shoulder as he tried to suppress his own giggles. Jimin placed a hand on your waist as he straightened himself up, the last of his chuckles fading out.  

“You know, Y/N, no one else will joke around with me like this, we ought to hang out more often.” Jimin grinned, grabbing your hands and swaying them side to side as you nodded your head in agreement. You opened your mouth to respond when you suddenly felt a pair of eyes boring into you and looked across the room to see Jungkook sitting on his own on the couch. He glanced back down at his phone as he caught your gaze. He briefly flickered his eyes back up to glare between you and Jimin as his mouth screwed into a grimace while nibbling at the inside of his cheek. You frowned at his scowling expression, wondering what had caused his anger-filled state. You watched as he even brushed off Taehyung’s attempt to start a conversation, pushing himself further into the corner of the couch as his eyes narrowed towards you. Excusing yourself from Jimin, you began to make your way over to where your boyfriend was sitting. Jungkook’s glower remained unfazed as you approached him and his hands balled into fists, clenching so tight that you could see his veins begin to appear. Upon reaching him, he stood up, towering over you as he leaned down to whisper into your ear.

“Meet me in my room. Now.” He ordered; his warm breath washed over your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. You cocked an eyebrow and turned to innocently stare up at him through your lashes. Without another word, he stormed towards the stairs, leaving you in confusion at his sudden anger. It wasn’t often that you saw Jungkook like this, so what could he possibly be so upset over? Not wanting to keep him waiting, you headed upstairs and stopped outside of Jungkook’s closed bedroom door. You knocked gingerly. When there was no answer, you cautiously turned the knob and stepped into the room where Jungkook had his back to you, his shoulders rising and falling as he breathed heavily. You watched as he removed his jacket, leaving him in his sweat slicked t-shirt that hugged tightly against his brawny frame.

“Jungkook…” You pried carefully, afraid that you’d cause him to burst. He whipped around to face you; his jaw clenched as he advanced toward you until your back was pressed against the wall. You stared up at Jungkook exasperatedly as he lifted both of his hands to slam against the wall above you, cornering you against the surface. You felt a hot rush of blush rise in your cheeks as he towered above you. His tall form was intimidating as he stood over you, stepping closer to nearly crush himself against your small frame.

“Y/N, you’ve been getting far too friendly with Jimin lately.” He growled. You attempted to avert your gaze, but Jungkook immediately slid a hand under your chin, forcing you to look up into his darkened eyes.

“What are you talking about?” you spoke timidly, “He was making me laugh and-”

“You think I can’t see the way he gets close to you? Letting his hands graze your waist and holding your hands; it makes me furious to see someone else touch you.” He continued. You tensed as he brought one hand down to tightly grip your waist. “And the way that you’ve been allowing him to do so, even letting your own hands wander at times. No, this won’t do at all.”

“But-” You began but were cut off by Jungkook lowering himself close to you, until his face was mere centimeters from yours. His eyes, glistening with fire, bore into you as he breathed harshly through his nose.  

“I think you need to be taught a lesson about keeping your hands to yourself, Y/N.” He whispered, sending a chill up your spine. Your entire face burned a bright red as he got closer, his lips barely hovering over your own. The scent of him, his sweat mixed with his warm breath, swirled around you, making you feel intoxicated as you breathed it in. You shivered beneath him as each breath sent a dizzying wave through you.

“W-what?” You choked, blinking at him through your lashes as he towered above you. Without another word, Jungkook stepped back, suddenly letting out a low, conniving laugh, and made his way over to the bed where he sat down before lifting a finger to beckon you over. His previously furious expression wavered as a devilish grin now played at his lips. You slowly walked over, utterly confused by his behavior as he grabbed a hold of your hand.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Y/N, and naughty girls like you need to be punished.” He spoke in a deep voice as he lifted a hand to caress your thigh. Pressing his fingers roughly into your skin, his eyes roamed over you, scanning your entire body as he chewed on his bottom lip. Your breathing hitched as his cool fingers trailed further upward, disappearing underneath of your skirt and toying with the fabric of your panties.

“This ass,” he began, “is only for me. Is that understood?” Jungkook leaned forward to grip your jaw with his hand, bringing you closer to him. His other hand gripped your ass tightly, digging his fingers into the plush skin over the fabric of your panties. You gulped and nodded silently before he sloppily crushed his lips against yours, keeping a tight hold on your jaw as his tongue granted itself access and began to roam your mouth. Your lips smacked as he pulled back from you, his eyes darkened with lust as he stared up at you. Despite being unsure of Jungkook’s intentions, his intimidating actions were somehow managing to send a thrilling rush through you.

“Bend over,” Jungkook commanded, gesturing to his knees.

“I said bend over.” He said with a rising sternness in his tone when you failed to move. Jungkook placed a hand to your back, forcing you to lean over his knees. “Do you see how disobedient you’re being? You need to be disciplined.” He growled into your ear as his fingers disappeared underneath of your skirt once more. This time, they hooked around the waistband of your panties before he slowly tugged them downward until they pooled around your ankles.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” You whined but were immediately quieted by his hand cupping over your mouth. Without warning, you heard a swish of air as his other hand lifted up and came back to crack down firmly on your ass. Jungkook rubbed your stinging flesh as you let out a cry muffled by his hand.

“I want you to count how many times I spank you. Outloud, is that understood?” He demanded as you trembled and nodded silently before he removed his hand. Despite being a bit frightened by his tone, you couldn’t help but feel a pool of fire developing in your abdomen and a slight heat between your legs. You couldn’t deny that you were finding his dominance thrilling when his hand cracked down another time, causing you to yelp once more.

“One!” You cried out, your voice echoed throughout the room as you immediately received another sharp slap which caused to you to screw your eyes shut.

“Not so loud, kitten. You don’t want the others to hear, do you?” He cooed, leaning down to nibble your earlobe as he soothed your burning skin. “Now try again, quieter.” He whispered before lifting his hand once more. Spank.

“Two,” you whimpered. Spank.

“Three,” Spank.

“Four,” you continued to count smack after smack as your skin blazed and reddened from Jungkook’s hand until the area began to feel numb. With each spank becoming more forceful, you felt the heat between your legs increase until your thighs were dripping with wetness. Jungkook’s sudden dominance sent a wave of pleasure through you with each grunt he emitted as he cracked down on your ass, smoothing it out with his rough hands after each one.

“Tell me who you belong to.” He demanded, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“You.” you managed to splutter out in between gasps.

“That’s right,” he growled, “only me.” This time, he brought his hand down to spank you three more times, rapidly without pausing in between to allow the stinging sensation to settle in. Your skin felt like it was afire and you bucked your hips forward in an attempt to relieve the pressure. You tried to bite back a moan, failing miserably as you squirmed over Jungkook’s knees and let out a loud groan.

“Are you enjoying this? Do you like it when I spank you?” He purred as you swallowed hard and nodded, unable to speak as you quaked from the fiery mix of pain and pleasure. By now your legs were practically soaked and you bucked your hips upwards, pleading for Jungkook to stop.

“You’re such a naughty girl, getting pleasure out of punishment. Look at how wet this is making you.” He laughed darkly as his fingers trailed towards your slicked thighs. You also took notice that you weren’t the only one who was finding pleasure in the situation as you felt the growing bump in Jungkook’s jeans poke against your abdomen. You felt his finger dip between your thighs, ghosting over your slit as you swished your hips towards him, begging for his fingers to fill you up.

“Don’t be too eager now.” You received another harsh spank, causing you to mewl softly as he began to glide his fingers along your slit. “Naughty girls like you don’t always get what they want. If you want these fingers inside of you, you’ll have to beg for it.”

“P-please Jungkook,” you keened, “I want it so bad.” Finally, he gave in and you gasped as he dipped one finger inside of you, slowly stretching you out. Your walls clenched around him as he added another finger, falling to a rhythm as he pumped his digits in and out of you. The feeling sent you into bliss as you lifted your hips up towards him, begging for more as he quickened his pace. Your moans echoed throughout the room which was now felt heavy with the scent of your sex. Jungkook’s fingers swirled around inside of you, curving at just the right angle to make your eyes roll back and your entire body pulse with pleasure.

“Jungkook, I’m-” You began, unable to finish your sentence; your vision became starry as the sounds in the room faded into white noise. You clenched around Jungkook’s fingers as you burst into your orgasm, covering them with your heat as you squirmed about over his knees. You went limp as you came down from your high; Jungkook removed his fingers from you and placed both hands on your shoulders, hurriedly pushing you off of his lap.

“Fuck, baby, I need you right now.” He groaned as he immediately stood up and began to fumble with his belt. You rose to your knees as he shoved his jeans down to his ankles and released his erection from his boxer briefs. Jungkook languidly stroked his cock before you reached up to wrap your hand around it followed by your mouth closing around the tip.

“Yeah, just like that baby. Suck my cock just like that.” Your eyes fluttered up to look at Jungkook who had had his head thrown back as a throaty groan emitted from his slightly parted lips. Your tongue swirled around his member as you bobbed your swollen lips along his length. After a moment, Jungkook impatiently reached down to grab a fist full of your hair in each hand. He began snapping his hips forward; thrusting into your mouth as he fell into an impossibly fast rhythm.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna come.” He breathed as he fucked your open mouth, your lips now darkened with saliva that dribbled down your chin. Jungkook pulled his cock out of your mouth before his hand flew downward, hastily pumping it through his fist. He kept one hand in your hair, tilting your head upward as he approached his climax. At once, his breathing hitched before he let out a prolonged groan that bounced off the walls of the room as he released onto your face. Jungkook breathed heavily, slowing his strokes as he finished himself off before bending down to cup your face with his hands.

“You know to suck me just right, baby.” He said, still catching his breath as he lifted you to stand up. You winced as you rose up; your bottom sent a scorching sensation through you with every movement. Jungkook noticed your struggling and leaned around you to admire his work on your ass, tenderly placing a hand on the still reddened flesh.

“Well, I expect that you’ve learned your lesson about being a naughty girl?” He asked smirking as he grasped your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. You nodded as he pressed his lips to yours, tasting himself on your still swollen lips. “And will you misbehave like this again?”

You shook your head vigorously, promising to obey him.

“Good girl,” he grinned, squeezing your ass once more and making you wince quietly, “otherwise, you know what’s in store for you should you decide that you need to be disciplined again.”

***Feel free to send me any requests!***

MASTERPOST

color you mine pt.2- pjm(m)

Originally posted by sugaglos

Living next door to your teacher has its perks… 

(m)- mature | 2.5k words | Teacher!Jimin | Pt.1 / ??

reqs] Jimin smut? With like daddy Dom or like rough stuff please [+] Can you please write about jimin teaching you how to deep throat him? [+] Jimin thigh riding smut no specific plot [+] all of those who requested a second CYM

a/n]  it has been a long time coming,,,hope you enjoy;)  


You’d never been so nervous in your life, knocking on Mr. Park’s door at seven o'clock sharp, not wanting to seem too eager even though you’d been waiting outside his door for nearly fifteen minutes. You told your roommates you were going to another friend’s down the street, hiding behind Mr. Park’s bushes so they couldn’t see as you waited for the time to come.

Beneath your clothes are two lacy black lingerie pieces, not covering anything, just for show, just to hopefully get him as excited as you are, dripping through the barely existent fabric of your panties. Thank god your friend dared you to buy lingerie a few months back, or you’d still be inside not knowing what to wear to this most special occasion.

He opens the door shirtless, smooth skin and defined muscle running below the elastic of his sweats, smiling sweetly and opening the door wider to let you in. “How was your evening, Y/N?” The foyer darkens behind you as he closes the door, “finished the reading I assigned?”

“Yes, Mr. Park,” you try to calm your nerves, picking at the skin around your nails behind your back, “it didn’t take me more than an hour.”

“Then I guess it was too easy,” he laughs, moving in front of you and waiting for you to follow. His house is dimly lit, the only light coming from the open windows in his living room. Leather couches, family photos, abstract art and shelves with books haphazardly sitting on them. His house looked just as you thought it would. So him, somehow.

“Would you like some water?” He moves to the fridge and drinks from a glass already set out, watching you set your bag down and sit in the bar stool across the island.

“Yes, thank you, the walk over here was so far,” you sarcastically joke.  

He chuckles, scrunching his nose and grabbing another tall glass from the cupboard before filling it with water from the fridge, sliding it across the counter cleanly and gracefully.  

“I have a few surprises in store…” He begins with a smirk.

Keep reading

Back to You | JJ

Pairing: Cheater!Jungkook X Reader

Summary: {Based off Cheater!Series} Jungkook cheats on y/n with her best friend and she finds out. What will happen when Jungkook tries to fix things after not seeing her for the past three years?

Genre: Fluff, ANGST, smut

Warnings: YALL KNOW ITS SMUT SO SHIT BOUT TO GO DOWN

Word Count: 3.7k

Note: To the anon that requested this I’m so sorry it took this long to get it up. I just wanted to make sure if was perfect. Hope you like it!

Masterlist

Keep reading

hero ☾peter parker

summary : peter can’t save everyone. he knows that. he just never anticipated one of those people being you. 

word count : 2.7k

author’s note : i wrote the word heart so many times it lowkey makes me wanna die lol goodnight hope you enjoy

  Head in his hands, Peter’s chest felt tighter than it ever had before. He could feel his heart, heavy as it was, beating slowly, reluctantly, behind his ribcage. The gentle shattering of it was all he knew how to feel at this point, and he figured the sheer pain was bound to crush him eventually, if it hadn’t already. He’d felt this agony before, twice in fact, but his identity as Spider-Man made him confident that as long as he continued to fight the way he did, he would be able to protect his loved ones for quite sometime, never having to go through this sort of suffering again. 

   Yet there he was, his head resting against the wall of his messy bedroom as he slumped against his bed with his eyes closed, wishing it was him that had almost bled out instead of you. 

  God, how he wished it had been him instead of you, the one good, pure, beautiful thing in his life. His heart was aching at the thought of you lying in that hospital bed instead of him, comatose for three days before you woke up, your ribs on the mend and twenty three stitches scarring your cheek. And it was his fault, all of it. 

    He wasn’t there to walk you home that night, the way he did every other night. If only he’d been a bit more stubborn, more determined to get to you. He did, in the end, but he hadn’t been fast enough. Not even nearly fast enough. He’d been two blocks from you when it happened. If only he had ran faster. He called you to let you know he was on his way, not to move until he was there because he was going to be there and he was going to walk you home no matter what even if it meant missing curfew- curfew didn’t matter to him that much as long as he knew you were safely sitting in your apartment. 

   “Hey my love,” he had greeted you, “I’m on my way. Don’t move until I get there. Please. Be safe, I love you. I’ll be there in five minutes.” You had picked up your phone to reply to the voicemail, but your phone ended up smashed on the ground before you could, knocked out of your hand. There was a tight grip on your hair, tied back in a ponytail because of the summer heat, and you barely had time to register what was happening. 

  Peter arrived three minutes after. He was confused. You always answered his calls back relatively quickly, and while he understood that sometimes you just forget or were busy, he was worried. It was ten o'clock at night, he knew you had your phone on you- 

    He stopped short when he saw your phone, open to his voicemail, lying there on the ground with the screen cracked and no sign of you anywhere. He could feel his blood running cold as he picked it up, staring around the empty street. Then, he heard the agonizing screams, exploding in his skull. And though each part of him was pleading to every higher power he could think of that it wasn’t, he knew it was you. He ran toward the sound, and he could feel his heartbeat in his throat and in his ears and in his head. He heard footsteps rounding hurriedly rounding a corner behind him but didn’t bother to look back. He didn’t give a shit about the attacker, not right now. 

   It was you that mattered. You, who he dropped to his knees beside. He cradled your head in his arms, the way he had done so many times before except this time the side of your face was gushing blood in a way he had never seen. “Y/N, Y/N, oh my god, oh my god,” his voice broke. “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be fine. I swear, you’re gonna be okay, baby. I promise.” 

  “Peter? Oh, hi Peter,” you smiled weakly up at him, your eyes drifting between open and closed. “My- my head hurts, Peter, it hurts really bad-” You must’ve hit your head on the concrete.

   “Just keep your eyes open, baby, okay, just keep them open for me.” He fumbled around for his cell phone, dialing 911 as quickly as his clumsy fingers could manage. He was still holding you in his arms, trying to quell the bleeding with a ripped part of his t-shirt but you were bleeding everywhere and it was so hard to keep up- “I have an emergency, please you need to get here as soon as possible please I have a person here who was attacked we’re on- Y/N? Baby, c’mon, c’mon- stay with me?” He repeated the address to the operator and hung up. “Stay with me, Y/N, please stay with me, don’t die on me, you can’t, don’t leave me, please.” 

   He didn’t know what else to do besides wait. He could hear the faintest sounds of the ambulance in the distance but he couldn’t hear you breathing and that was the only thing he wanted to hear. He gently shook your shoulders, his vision blurry, “C’mon, my love, please don’t leave me just yet- you’ve gotta stay with me, please, Y/N.” And he was crying, crying, crying into your hair and clutching you so tightly he was afraid of suffocating you. Your heartbeat was barely there. “You’re gonna be okay. You have to stay here.” The rest of the night was a blur from there. He rode in the ambulance to Jamaica Hospital, sat in the waiting room with tears streaming down his face and snapping at people who gave him pitying looks, even if they were trying to be sympathetic. 

   Aunt May arrived there, too, because Peter had been questioned by the police and they had called her to be there. They knew the Parkers. Uncle Ben had been attacked, too. When she got there, Peter had collapsed in her arms in the middle of the lobby, crying harder than she had ever seen, blood soaking through his shirt. Your parents got there next, your little brother so terrified at the sight of your boyfriend standing on wobbly legs. They told him that if Peter hadn’t found you, you might not have made it. That he saved you. 

   But as he walked into your hospital room hours later after your surgery, he felt like the most pathetic excuse for a hero the world has ever seen. He had never felt like less of a hero. What sort of savior was he, if you were lying there, eyes closed and hooked up to a heart monitor? What type of hero was that? 

   He wasn’t one. That was the end of that.

   Peter hadn’t been to visit you since, not even when your brother had texted him that you were awake. He couldn’t. He didn’t deserve to. It should have been him. Never you. Everyone tried to convince him otherwise. Ned pleaded with him to visit, Michelle had confronted him in the middle of the cafeteria and made him cry, Flash told anyone who would listen that Peter was a terrible boyfriend- and Peter couldn’t bring himself to disagree. He just hung his head and accepted the torment and did everything in silence from then on. He kept his earbuds in for most of the day, just so he didn’t have to listen to anyone ask him about you. 

  “Honey, you know she’s asking for you,” May said, leaning against the doorframe of his room. He turned his head away. “You can’t hide from her, Peter. You love her. I know you blame yourself for this-” He didn’t reply, but he turned his music up louder and threw his comforter over himself. 

   She was right, as she usually was. He still didn’t want to listen. May sighed. He’d come around eventually. Peter felt a slight vibration next to him, opening his eyes to see a message from Happy. 

   Tony wants to see you. Now. 

   Peter texted back, I’m busy. Can’t.

   Another text came in. He says it’s urgent. 

   With a groan, Peter got out of bed. His legs were shaking from lying down so long. He couldn’t imagine how it would feel for you once you were able to get out of bed. He locked his door so May couldn’t walk in and see that he had left. He put on his suit, slipping the mask over his face even though he knew he didn’t even deserve to hold the title of superhero right now. He knew he would meet Tony at the roof of Peter’s building, peeling the mask away from his face as he waited for him to arrive. 

   His Iron Man suited landed him behind with a soft thud. Peter didn’t look. “Are you really here or is it just the stupid suit again?” He asked, harsher than he meant to. The metal creaked. 

   “I’m here, kid,” Tony said, his hand resting on Peter’s shoulder when he came up behind him. 

   “Happy said you needed me. What is it?” Peter wanted to get right to the point so he could crawl back under his covers and listen to the saddest playlist he could find.  

   “You should really go visit Y/N.”  

   “Who told you about that?” He turned to look up at Mr. Stark, confusion flashing across his face. He brushed his hand off his shoulder. “I can’t, anyway.” Peter looked back toward the city, Manhattan just beyond reach. 

   “Your aunt called me. She thought you’d listen to me more than her. Which is wrong, by the way. She’s a very wonderful woman and you should listen to her often.” Tony was only joking, trying to get the kid to exhibit some sort of emotion other than sadness. 

  Peter glared. “Stop hitting on my aunt.” Well, now he was angry. Close enough. “I don’t want to visit Y/N, okay? It’s my fault she’s in there, my fault she almost died. If I had just gotten there sooner, this never would’ve happened. You should just take this suit away from me again, because I don’t deserve it. I’m an awful person. I’m not a hero.” 

   “Kid, you can’t save everyone. That’s part of the job. But one thing you did do was save Y/N. Even if you don’t think so. You think she’d be alive right now if you hadn’t found her? Probably not. You’re lucky you did. I know that she knows that, too. You can’t beat yourself up over this. Y/N is alive, Peter. You have to go and see for yourself.” Tony walked away, stepping back into his own suit. “No one blames you. So stop blaming yourself, and stop being so damn self deprecating. That’s my thing.” 

   He left Peter there, with his legs dangling off the edge of the building. Finally, he swung back down through his window, put on regular clothes and pulled sneakers onto his feet. He brushed his hair, he splashed cold water on his face. He unlocked his bedroom door and walked out into the living room where May was sitting on the couch with a book propped open on her lap. 

  Clearing his throat, Peter gave her a shaky smile. “Do I look okay?” 

  May clasped her hands together, beaming at her nephew. “You look great. Y/N will think so, too.” Peter nodded, walking over to give his aunt a kiss on the cheek. 

   He walked out of the apartment with his hands shoved in his pockets, got on the E train, and tried to remain calm. You’d been awake for nearly three days now, he should’ve been there sooner. A week in the hospital and Peter had only been there beside you when you were passed out, and even then, only once. He showed up at the hospital a good ten minutes before visiting hours were over, thank God. He would’ve stayed in the lobby all night if he had been forced to, but this made things so much easier. 

  Your door opened slowly, and you sat up in bed. Your family had just left a half hour ago, there was no way they were back yet. Then, you saw that familiar, hesitant stance, the messy honey colored hair, the Midtown sweatshirt that he practically lived in, and breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s about time, Parker.” 

   He shook his head as he laughed, sitting down at the chair next to your bed and taking it all in. You looked perfectly fine, healthy even, but you would have a scar marring the side of your face for the rest of your life and he knew there was a gash deep in your side, which was how you had almost died in the first place. He knew your two of your ribs had been practically kicked in and that you had bruises covering your torso. But you were still radiant, grinning at him. So happy that he was there. 

   “I know, I’m sorry,” he held out his hand, and you held it. “D’you hate me?”

   “For what?” You furrowed your brow. 

   “For not getting there in time to walk you home.” He let out a long, slow breath, his voice hitching. “I- I should’ve ran to be with you. I knew something like this would happen and you almost died. I suck at everything. I even suck at the one thing I thought I was good at. I’m a shit boyfriend and a shit Spider-Man. Your parents kept telling me that I was a hero. But if I was, I would’ve gotten there in time to strangle whoever did this to you. This wouldn’t have happened to you at all if I was really a hero.” 

   He rubbed his eyes with his sweater sleeve. “I don’t deserve-” 

   Without thinking, you pressed your finger to his lips. “I never thought I would say this but Peter, my love, please shut up. Right now.” He gulped, then nodded. “You are worthy of a million great things. You deserve to be a hero, to be Spider-Man. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have that suit that you put on every night. You wouldn’t go out and save people every day. You not only deserve to be a hero, but you are one. If not in your eyes, in mine.” 

   “But-” 

   “No,” you said firmly. “You are a hero, Peter Parker. You saved my life. I don’t care what you think about yourself because that’s what I think. And I-” You stopped. You didn’t want him to think you were just saying it because he rescued you. That was the last thing you wanted. People said crazy things after they were saved by someone, and if he thought that was the case here, you’d feel awful. 

   “Y/N, you don’t have to say it…” He raised his hand to your face, bringing you closer to him. Your foreheads touched lightly and your eyes closed. 

   “I mean it, though.” You pressed a kiss to his lips, mumbling it against him, “I love you. I mean it. I love you and your heroism and your intelligence and your kindness and the way that you think you’re funny even though you’re not. I really love you.” 

   He grinned against your lips, a weight lifted off his shoulders. He felt feather light. He pulled away just slightly, so he could look at you as he said it. “I love you, too. More than anything. If you had died, I don’t know what I would have done. I would have been a wreck. Thank you for staying with me. Thank you for holding on. I love you.” Now that he had said the three words that set his mind spinning, he didn’t think he would ever stop saying. 

   “You wanna know how I held on?” 

   “How?” 

    “I listened to the voice of my hero, of my Peter. I heard you.” You rest your head against your pillow. “I wasn’t about to leave you just yet. We still have a long way to go together.” You moved over, leaving room on the pillow for him. “There’s no room on the bed, can you just sleep on the pillow? I don’t want you to leave.” 

   “Of course.” He didn’t care that it’d be uncomfortable. “Anything for you.” 

   His heart soared when you squeezed his hand, saying quietly, “My hero.” 

Touch Starved III

So this was supposed to be fluffy. But then Morality ended up having a lot of emotions, and all, it didn’t stay that way. Sorry guys. Also my inspiration while writing this was “Sleepsong” by Secret Garden

Part I Part II Part IV

As Anxiety shuffled into the dining room the next morning, he kept his eyes downcast and his shoulders hunched. A large part of him was hissing in the back of mind to flee, to hide away in his room. But he’d promised Prince he’d come out today. He’d also promised himself to try and let the others get this whole touch thing out of their system.

Also he hadn’t had the chance to eat last night after dropping the plate, so he was really freaking hungry. Truthfully that had been the only thing that had allowed him to work up the willpower to come down.

Still keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the floor, he slunk over to his seat, flopping down in it with a huff. Once sitting, he allowed his eyes to flick upwards. Logic was sitting across from him with a newspaper. Seeing Anxiety looking at him, he raised his cup in greeting.

“Salutations, Anxiety,” he said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Sure,” Anxiety said flatly. “Whatever.”

Thankfully before Logic had a chance to reply and make the situation even more awkward, Morality swooped in with a plate covered in bacon.

“Good morning!” he sang out. “I made toast, bacon, eggs and sausages!”

“Do you have jam for the toast?” Prince asked, entering the room.

Morality hummed. “I’m not sure,” he said, “You can go check the cupboards though.”

Prince nodded and ducked into the kitchen. Logic had turned his attention more fully to his paper, which meant that the only person left for Morality to focus on was…

“Anxiety!” Morality beamed at him. “I’m glad you came down. Make sure to take as much food as you like, kiddo. And if you want something else, just ask, ok?”

Anxiety shifted uncomfortably. See all this fussing and special treatment was what he was trying to avoid.

“This is fine,” he muttered, reaching out to grab a slice of toast. He shoved it in his mouths without even bothering to butter it, too determined to have an excuse not to talk.

Morality wasn’t deterred though. He kept chattering on. “Well I’m glad! I’m really happy you cam down today, I was starting to get a bit worried. So do you have any plans for today?”

Anxiety squinted at Morality. Where was this going?

“No,” he eventually said slowly. “Not really.”

“Do you want to rematch the Lego Batman movie with me then?” Morality asked bouncing up and down in his seat. “Logic isn’t interested, and Roman said he was going to be busy coming up with video ideas today.”

Anxiety almost said no. But then he remembered his stupid promise.

“Yeah, sure I guess,” he mumbled. Just let them get it out of their system, he reminded himself. Then it will go back to normal. You’ll be left alone again.

“Yay!” Morality clapped his hands together. “I have to take care a few things first, but want to meet up in the common room after lunch.”

“Sounds great,” Anxiety replied, moodily poking at his bacon. At least he’d have time to mentally prepare himself.

After lunch, (they typically were on their own for lunch, with breakfast and dinner begin the designated “family” times), Anxiety made his way into the common room. Morality was already there, sitting on the couch, remote in hand.

“Hey, Anxiety,” he waved. “I’ve got the movie all set up, so just come sit down.”

Normally, Anxiety would have gone to one of the armchairs to sit. But this time he sat down right next to Morality, feeling their legs brush together. Morality looked a bit startled, but thankfully didn’t comment.

“I love this movie so much,” he chattered, “It’s just so cute!”

“It’s ok,” Anxiety said flatly. He did actually like the movie. Somehow it had ended up being more true to the comics than most movie portrayals of Batman were. That didn’t mean he had to be enthusiastic though. He’d already shown up, Morality wasn’t getting much more out of him.

Not fifteen minutes into the movie, Anxiety could feel Morality begin to fidget. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the other side. He looked weirdly nervous.

After a few more minutes, Anxiety felt Morality shift again. His arm, which had previously been at his side, now stretched up and over, until it rested on the back of the couch. It wasn’t really touching Anxiety, but he was aware of its proximity, just a hair’s breadth away from being around his shoulders.

He could feel himself tense a little, but forced himself to relax. It was fine. It made Morality happy. He could deal with it.

As the movie went on, Anxiety found himself focusing less and less on Morality’s nearness to him. Mostly because he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. He hadn’t really slept much the night before. Sure, he’d tried, but he’d just ended up tossing and turning all night, his mind refusing to shut up.

And, well, sitting on the couch, the noise from the TV a comforting drone, who could blame him for struggling to stay awake. Soon, it became too much effort all together, and his exhaustion dragged him under.

There was some kind of noise above him. Still not opening his eyes, Anxiety tried to figure out where he was. He was lying on something warm, and moving?

As the fog in his mind lifted a little, he abruptly realized that at some point while he was sleeping he had leaned against Morality, and he was now partially lying on his chest, and Morality’s arm was now really wrapped around him. And that noise? That was Morality talking.

“You know I remember, when you first appeared in the mindscape,” Morality was saying softly. “You were so small, I just wanted to wrap you up in a blanket. But then you didn’t seem to want any of us near you, so I thought that maybe it was better to keep my distance. To let you make the first move.”

Morality took in a long shaky breath. He sounded as though he was on the verge of tears. Anxiety didn’t move. He wasn’t sure what to do. Morality clearly thought he was still asleep, and he wasn’t sure what the other would do if he realized Anxiety was awake. So he just stayed frozen, keeping careful control of his breathing.

“That was a mistake,” Morality whispered, his tone full of guilt and pain. “I should have known better. I should have made sure you knew you could reach out. Instead I just left you alone, for years. That’s not how a father should act.”

He paused again, sniffing softly. Was he actually crying now?

“And now,” he said sadly, “you’re too scared to even let us help you. You flinch every time we come near you, and you look so confused every time we so much as pat you on the back, like you can’t understand what or why we’re doing that.”

Anxiety felt the hand on his back rise to run its fingers through his hair.

“The only reason you’ve let me this close is because you’re asleep,” Morality continued, “And when you wake up, it’ll just be like before, you’’ll keep looking at us like you expect us to hurt you. And I hate that.”

Morality was definitely crying now.

“I hate that we did hurt you,” he sobbed. “I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted you to be safe. I wanted you to know that we would look out for you, no matter what. But we didn’t, and I know we’re trying to fix it, but I’m scared that maybe we were too late. God, I hope we weren’t too late.”

Despite the warm arms now clinging desperately to him, Anxiety felt cold. He’d known this hadn’t been a joke, Prince had made it pretty clear that they were serious about this. But this was way more than he had expected. Helpless in the face of what he was now realizing was more than just simple pity, he stayed silent and still.

Morality’s words weren’t intelligible anymore. He only let out sob-filled mumbles, as he pressed his face into Anxiety’s hair. Eventually, the sobbing trailed off.

“I love you, kiddo,” he whispered. “I hope you’ll figure that out someday. We all love you. You’re family, you’ll always be our family.”

Morality sighed, sounding weary.

“I should probably get you back to your room before you wake up,” he said. “I don’t- you’ll be happier if you wake up there.”

With that, Anxiety felt himself being gently lifted upwards, cradled in Morality’s arms. The other side began to walk, carrying him towards his room. The entire time, Anxiety kept his eyes shut.

After a brief fumble with the door, Morality let himself in, and Anxiety felt himself being placed on the bed. A hand brushed his bangs back, and a pair of lips gently pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Sleep well, Anxiety,” Morality murmured. “I hope your dreams are happy. I hope they’re kinder to you than we’ve been.”

Anxiety heard him walk away, the door shutting behind him. Once he was sure Morality was gone, he sat up.

He stared at the now closed door in dismay. This-this wasn’t something he could just indulge for a few days and make it go away. They were- this wasn’t something small

What am I going to do? he thought. I didn’t- I never wanted Morality to cry because of me. But how do I handle this?

He pulled his knees up to his chest, his arms wrapping around them. He was Anxiety, he was supposed to be alone. But apparently the others had decided that wasn’t true.

Part of him wanted to say that it was all a lie, that if they were telling the truth, it would never have been like this in the first place. But a greater part of him knew that there was no dismissing what he had just heard. For better or for worse, the others were serious.

Which meant he was going to have to find a way to deal with it. Anxiety let himself think about what it was like being curled up in Morality’s arms. It-it hadn’t been terrible. It had been awkward, sure, especially since he’d had no idea what to do.

But, at the same time, when he had first been waking up, before he’d realized what Morality was saying, it had actually felt kind of nice.

Hesitantly, Anxiety tried to imagine what it would be like for the others to touch him, what it might be like to hug them. It was… a weird thought. Not bad necessarily, but it also felt kind of overwhelming.

Although, hadn’t Logic said that they’d work up to that? That they weren’t going to try and hug Anxiety right now because they knew it would be too much?

Anxiety chewed on his lower lip. Maybe this wouldn’t be bad? True, he still thought he would be fine without all this fuss and touchy-feely stuff. But, the others cared. And as much as he hated to admit it, knowing that actually made Anxiety feel good. He’d always just figured they’d hated him. After all, why wouldn’t they?

But if they didn’t hate him, and if this whole thing was more than just pity, if it was them maybe trying to show they cared. Then maybe, just maybe, he could let them in.

Anxiety really hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be a mistake. If it was, he knew he’d never get over it.

Jamie - Names (Drabble Series)

Bucky | Barnes | Buck | Sarge | Jamie | Soldat | Love | James | Epilogue

Character Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader

Summary: She calls Bucky by many different names. Each one portraying a different emotion, motive behind her words changing and telling with every utterance off her lips.

WC: 1550

A/N: Tags are now closed! This chapter is my favorite. If I were Bucky’s girl, I’d totally just call him Jamie all the time. I’m so blown away by the positive response to this series. I posted another series here earlier this summer and I think it got 45 notes at most on a chapter. Thank you so much guys!

Jamie was a name she used in two instances: when she was drunk and when she wanted something. It always amused him and he found it cute, wishing she would use it more often.

“Hey Jamie, what do you think of repainting the dining room?” (She was both for this one.)

“I know we never officially talked about getting a cat, but Jamie he’s so cute. You’ll love him I promise!”

It was the night of another rager of a Stark Party, a few weeks after Steve dragged everyone out to the compound. They were celebrating the end of a very successful mission that had taken months to plan and execute, not that Tony ever needed an excuse to throw a party.

She was drunk, relieving the stress of the past few weeks with one too many martinis.

“Jamie! Jaaaaaamieeeeee!” she sang out.

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Picture Perfect - Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester - Chapter 6

Title: Picture Perfect

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5,503

Warnings: Angst

Prompt: I got it! Can you do a fic where Sam dies while (Y/N) is pregnant with his child and so Dean helps her raise the child and they live the apple pie life and right when Dean wants to propose to (Y/N), Sam returns to life & ANGST. Please and thank you

Read: Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5

“Hope you’re happy.” you said in a hoarse voice, tears having welled up in your eyes as you crosed your arms over your chest and walked away from both of them.

“Neither of us is.” Dean spoke up as he approached you “But we know that she has to learn the truth, sooner or later. And at this point- it wouldn’t make any difference. She already loves Sam, she doesn’t see him as a stranger so that’s what matters.”

“Right, because it’s more convenient.” you scoffed, shaking your head “Liten to me here, we’ve been through tons of shitty situations. We’ve lived moments we never thought we’d go through and that other people would have been torn apart in but this- it’s no longer just the three of us. That kid upstairs is my life and I don’t care what I’ll have to do but I am going to protect her happiness with everything I’ve got.” you got closer to both of them, forgetting for a moment that Sam would probably see the marks Dean had left on your neck. That and the fact that you were actually wearing his shirt.

“And I know she has to find out, I agree that she has to. But I need you both to understand one thing: no matter what goes on amongst us she stays out of it. I don’t want for a second to see her cry, and I need you both to know that.” you said in a stern tone and after a final look you were making your way upstairs.

Your mood seemed to be changing every five minutes as it seemed but you didn’t care anymore. You were slightly angry, yes, mostly at Dean for having gone to talk to Sam without you there. It almost seemed behind your back and you didn’t want to admit that it mostly scared you about what else he had in mind to do.

“She really hasn’t changed one bit.” Sam whispered and the corners of Dean’s mouth lifted into a small smile.

“Yeah” he whispered in a hoarse voice “She really hasn’t.”

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Flight 512

For some reason, I like this. It isn’t really anything special or great, but it’s something. I hope you enjoy it, and thank you for being so patient. I know it’s been a while

“Flight 512 to Toronto, Canada has been delayed..”

My eyes threaten to close and I have to keep drumming my fingers against the steel bench in order to keep awake. It’s as though every part of my body - my legs, my arms, my neck - all have the same intention of aching until I cry. I sigh for the hundredth time and attempt to find a comfortable position but to no avail. 

There’s a cool breeze coming from somewhere unknown to me, but I realise that the chill down my back is another thing keeping me awake so I don’t complain, despite the mountains of goosebumps that have spread across my arms.

I watch the clock’s hand move round and round its face. It’s as though one minute it was close to midnight and now, as I’m sat on the exact same bench, it’s coming up to three o’clock.

Looking to my left and then to my right, there doesn’t seem to be many people around, only the odd man or woman dragging their suitcase across the floor. I somehow feel as though I’m the only one waiting for the delayed flight. I wrap my arms around my stomach and lean my head against the back of the steel chair, it sends shocks through my neck. 

Behind me, far at the other side of the airport, there’s a glass window that fits the length of the room. Every now and then, there’ll be minute flashes of light from the awakening of a plane. Orange would cloud every inch of it’s vicinity.

“Flight 512 to Toronto, Canada has been delayed, we apologise for..”

I refrain from cursing the woman’s voice and sit up for the first time in a long period of time. My legs no longer feel a part of my body and I have to bounce them up and down to begin to feel the familiar static feeling running through them. I wipe my eyes with the palms of my hands. 

“Excuse me.” A voice rings through the space I thought was empty and causes me to jump slightly due to the sudden sound. 

I look up to see a figure towering over me. It takes me a few seconds to take in their appearance due to the fact that I’m currently seeing stars after having pressed the palms of my hands into my eye sockets so hard.

“Uh, hi,” I mutter, and my voice cracks.

“Anyone sitting here?” The boy points to the seat beside me where my bag lays open, its contents almost spilling out. I think it’s his way of asking me to move it.

“Um, no,” I reply, already grabbing my bag and pulling it onto my lap. I subtly look around the room and see the rest of the benches completely empty. 

“Thanks.” He smiles and I’m hesitant to return it, but I do. 

We sit in silence, apart from the occasional announcements over the loudspeaker. 

When I get chance, I can watch the boy out of the corner of my eye. His dyed-blonde hair is cut short but it seems to be growing steadily, and his skin is tanned perfectly. Every now and then he’ll reach to his right before raising his hand to his lips. 

I run a hand through my hair and it’s as though he’d forgotten I’m here and my movement startled him. He turns to me and I can hear a soft crinkling sound.
“Grape?” he asks and offers a tub of grapes to me. At this point, I’m beyond confused and shake my head. “It’s cool, I haven’t done anything to them, like poisoned them or anything.” He grins menacingly. 

“Saying that makes me think you have,” I say and raise an eyebrow at him. To this, his grin seems to deepen. 

“Suit yourself.” He drops another between the barrier of his lips before chewing. I look away and sigh. “Your flight been delayed too?” 

I’m confused as to why he’s sat so close to me that I can feel the warmth of his thigh against mine, I’m confused as to why he’s offering me grapes, and I’m startled at the fact that he’s still trying to make small talk.

“Unfortunately.”

“I’m Justin, by the way,” he says and offers his hand for me to shake. I suddenly feel my own become clammy.  

“[Y/N],” I reluctantly shake his hand and feel the softness of his skin. I appreciate how pleasantly warm it is. 

“That’s a nice name,” he says before popping another grape into his mouth. 

“Thanks-“

“Are you travelling alone?” he interrupts me, but the calm and inviting look on his face tells me he didn’t mean anything by it. 

“Yeah, I’m going to see my family in Canada. Are you?” 

“My family’s up here, I’m heading home. To Canada, actually.”

I nod. “Did you have a nice time?”

He looks over at me and smiles. I can see his eyes moving around the features of my face and I suddenly feel self-conscious.

“I had a pleasant time, yeah.” 

“Flight 512 to Toronto, Canada has been delayed, we apologise for the inconvenience..”

“Drives you insane, doesn’t it?” he says and looks up towards the ceiling. I can see the veins working in his neck, I can see the beginning of a tattoo on the back of his neck and curiosity fills my body.

“Tell me about it.” 

Another silence falls over us but for the first time it doesn’t seem to be uncomfortable. Every now and then, he’ll raise his hand to his lips while I sit motionless. 

“Sure you don’t want one?” 

I shake my head as politely as I can and I see him shrug. 

There’s another hour before anything changes. My conversation with Justin escalates and it’s evident we’ve both become accustomed to each other, even Justin - who dripped with confidence from the beginning - has seemingly opened up even more. 

“There’s a restaurant in Toronto that do the best pancakes in the world, I swear, I could eat them for every meal of the day,”

“I’ve never been a huge fan of pancakes,” I say, crossing my legs and facing him. Justin does the same. 

“Try these and your opinion’ll change. Give me your number and I’ll take you whenever you’re free.” He grins. 

The grapes are long gone and I regret not taking up his multiple offers because I can hear a monster growling in my stomach.

“It’s a deal,” I smile and he imitates me. 

There’s subtle dark marks under his eyes and his eyes look heavy, but his face seems to light up when he smiles and I enjoy watching it happen. It’s like the darkness before the sun comes up from behind the trees and it makes the world seems so much brighter. 

“I’ll see you there,” he grins proudly.

“Promise?”

“Scouts honour.”

I laugh and I can see he’s watching me. His brown eyes are burning into my skin and a flush trickles through my body like boiling water.

“Flight 512 to Toronto, Canada is due at 17:55. Please be ready for departure..”

Justin releases a long breath and sits up straight. “That’s us.”

“Finally,” I say and pick my bag up as it sits on the floor with a swift movement. I feel a strange reluctance to have to leave, despite having spent long enough here.

It’s quiet while we collect our things. Justin is the first to stand and he watches and waits for me while I click the handle of the suitcase into place. He smiles when I stand, he’s taller than me so I still have to lean my head back to be able to see the light in his eyes.

My legs feel as though they’ve been replaced with steel, and I’m struggling to walk beside Justin without feeling aching pains shoot through them.  I clutch the strap of my bag tighter in the palm of my hand.

To my left I can see a cafe with a sign saying ’24 Hour’ and it’s as though my stomach knows; it lets out a howl that lasts a good few seconds before dying down again. I chew my bottom lip and speed up when I smell fresh coffee and baking cookies.

“So,” Justin starts. “Were you serious? Would you be willing to give me your number?” He looks down at me and I can feel the warm look he’s giving me.

I shrug. “Why not? You’ve had plenty of time to kidnap me and you’re yet to do so. I think you’re safe enough,” I chuckle and he laughs. His teeth are blindingly bright and I’m only just acknowledging this. They contrast with his tanned skin.

He gives me his phone to which I take carefully and type my number in. He’s watching me and it causes me to have to delete my mistakes with shaking hands.

“I’ll call you,” he says and I nod.

“I’ll be waiting.”

It sounds like a goodbye, even though we’re still walking to the boarding station together, not to mention, getting on the same plane. I can see the dots in the distance beginning to look like actual figures, and as we get closer, I can see that every one of them looks as exhausted as Justin and I. We stick close together and join the group.

It takes another twenty minutes or so before a steward arrives. Justin has taken a packet out of his backpack and I notice it’s filled with cookies. He takes one and I listen as he crunches contently, trying not to let my mouth water too much.

He moves the packet towards me and I smile while taking one at a steady pace, not wanting to seem too eager.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I’ve been hearing your stomach growl for the past three hours, I figured I’d help you out,” he says casually. “Here. Take them.” He shoves the packet to my chest and I’m forced to grab them so they don’t fall to the floor.

I blush and say nothing. The group seems to have formed into a queue and the steward is now checking people’s tickets; everyone practically throws the tickets towards the poor man.

I stand beside Justin and munch on a few more of the cookies to rid myself of the empty feeling in my stomach. There’s noise and commotion around us but we stand quietly. Justin’s hand brushes against mine and it’s soft and warm against my own. My heart beats a little faster.

zarohk  asked:

So, I'm not totally sure the timelines match up, but do you think that Rachel's sisters (especially Sarah who is younger and more naive) could have watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer and decided that Rachel is the Slayer? Goes out at night, all hours, secret boyfriend who only visits her at night, can't tell their single mom, etc.

[First of all: the timelines do actually match up quite well.  In #20 there’s a brief mention of David’s dad (of all people) watching Buffy on TV, and although Animorphs started and ended first most of its run overlaps with Buffy.  Second, I LOVE this idea so much.  Rachel and Buffy are two of the people who were massively influential in teaching me and my friends that it was possible to be girly and tough at the same time.  Third… Voila.]

It starts as a way to distract her sisters, on the nights when their mom can’t make it home and their dad is too busy to call—Rachel will put on whichever Buffy episode she’s got saved in the DVR and all three of them will watch it together.  However, all three of them fall in love with the show over time, until they’re catching each episode live: Sarah laughs at all the puns and hums along with the theme song while Jordan waxes poetical about how dreamy Spike and Angel are.  

Rachel just loves Buffy herself, because there aren’t enough girls on TV that can look that fabulous and kick butt at the same time.  It becomes a weekly ritual, one that Rachel sometimes has to miss if Cassie or Jake calls with urgent news, but she’ll put aside anything short of the alien invasion to catch it with her sisters.

*****************

Jordan meets Rachel at the door, which is a bad sign because their mom and Sarah are both asleep and Rachel herself went to bed six hours ago.  The mission was long, nasty, and exhausting, the way they always are, and Rachel’s too keyed-up from the adrenaline rush to think of a proper excuse for why she’s sneaking in.  

She and Jordan stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, Rachel leaning on the door frame, Jordan holding a comic book in both hands as she sits on the end table in the foyer.  Jordan becomes the first one to speak.  “Sarah and I were talking,” she says.  “And I think we figured it out.”  

Rachel feels her stomach churn.  She’s not as careful with her sisters as her mom.  She never has been.  “Figured what out?”

“It’s okay.”  Jordan clutches her comic book a little more closely, expression solemn.  “We won’t tell Mom.”

Rachel crosses her arms.  “Won’t tell her what, exactly?”

Jordan thrusts the comic book at Rachel.  The cover shows a girl—Buffy Summers, judging by the title—holding a wooden stake in one hand and a sword in the other, her blond hair whirling around her as she thrusts the sword at a spike-covered greyish creature in the corner of the frame.  

Rachel takes a step back from the comic, not sure whether to laugh or to cry.  

“It explains everything.  Where you sneak out to almost every night.  Why you’ve got blood under your fingernails half the time when you get home.  Why you’ve got a secret boyfriend who only comes out at night—”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Rachel says reflexively.

Jordan nods, eyes wide.  “Uh-huh.  So you definitely weren’t seen by half the school at last week’s dance with a mysterious guy who has blond hair and is never seen around town.  You don’t have a boyfriend, even though I’ve heard people talking in your room in the middle of the night.  And you always leave your window open, even—especially—when it rains.  Almost like you’re waiting for a secret vampire boy—”

Rachel snorts a laugh.  “Tobias isn’t a vampire.”

Which has exactly the opposite effect than the one she intended.  “Oh my god,” Jordan whispers.  “Tobias as in that guy who disappeared last year? Everyone thought he died—” She gasps.  “Unless he did die.  And now he’s back!”

Much as Rachel wants to laugh and keep laughing until she falls over, she understands that this conversation actually has serious implications.  With effort she sobers herself.  “Look,” she says at last.  “There are things… Things I can’t tell you.  You wouldn’t be safe if I did.”  

She looks Jordan in the eye.  Jordan is taking this conversation seriously—probably more seriously than Rachel herself, for that matter.  “I understand,” Jordan says.  

“As soon as…”  As soon as the war’s over.  “As soon as it’s safe.  I’ll tell you everything.  Right now, there are things I can’t talk to you, or to Mom, about.  But someday I will.  I promise.”  Rachel can’t be more honest than that.  

“Okay.”  Jordan bites her lip.  “I just wanted you to know your secret’s safe with me.  And if you ever need help, like, hiding a body…”

Rachel smiles, overwhelmed with fondness.  “Thanks.”  She yawns.  “Now, if it’s all right with you, Dawn…”

Jordan makes a face.  

“I’m wiped, so I’m going to bed.”  She walks past Jordan and up the stairs to her room.  

“Rachel!”

She turns around.  Jordan is standing at the bottom of the stairs, hugging her comic book against her chest with both hands.  

“On the show,” she says haltingly.  “They say a lot about how slaying’s a dangerous job.  About how most slayers don’t live to be twenty.”  There’s real fear in her eyes, as she looks up at her sister.  

Rachel grins, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  “Really, Jordan, you should learn not to believe everything you see on TV.  After all, it’s just a show.  No vampire’s gonna take me down.”  

****************************

“You know, my sister thinks you’re William the Bloody.”

«Who’s that, a spokesman for Kotex?»

***************************

She doesn’t get much input on the actual headstone; she’s too young for that.  She does, however, manage to put in a special request for the plaque on the statue they erect outside of Washington D.C., a proud grizzly bear rearing up to defend the Capitol.  

Rachel Daniella Berenson, the plaque reads.  She saved the world.  A lot.  

SugarDaddy!Cal Pt. 8

Okay, okay I know this is long over due and I’m sorry. At first it was cause of school, but then I started binge watching on Netflix all day yesterday, but this is extra long and cute and angsty. Keep in mind that half of this was written at two in the morning after I was done crying from finishing the last episode of 13 reasons why. (Yall needa go watch that shit) I hope you guys enjoy the chapter, y'all know I need 100 notes for part 9 and leave feedback💕

One more thing…Ik it probably doesn’t make sense but I’m gonna pretend like this takes place after like a month from the last time they met.

**WARNING**: Nothing really, just a make out and a small mention of masturbation.


One/ Two/ Three/ Four/Five/Six/Seven/Eight/
Nine/Ten/Eleven/Twelve/Thirteen/Fourteen/Fifteen
Sixteen/ Seventeen/ Eighteen/ Nineteen/Twenty{END}


“Cal, can you not.” You snorted as he tried to squeeze into the tight fitting top you picked out not too long ago.

“I can get in it, I swear.” He grunted while attempting to get the small shirt over his shoulder.

He had took you shopping once again and as always he came into the dressing room with you. This particular time, however, Calum got so bored he decided to try on clothes as well. You didn’t have a problem with that, but he could at least try on something in his size.

“You’re gonna rip it.” You laughed.“ Then you’ll have to buy it just to throw away.”

“I’m going to get in this shirt, Y/N.”

“Oh my God.” You began to laugh harder at his determination, deciding to try on another article of clothing for your sake.“ I think these shorts are gonna make my ass pop.”

“It already pops, Y/N. Your ass is fucking perfect.” He absentmindedly complimented you.

“Take off the shi-”

“I got it!” He yelled once he finally got the top onto his body, throwing his hands up in the air in excitement.

It was quiet as you both heard the sound of fabric tearing. You placed your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter and Calum’s cheeks slowly flushed pink.

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Kill Zone - Part 10: Ghosts of the Past

Characters: Reader (Special Agent Y/N Singer), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Special Agent Castiel Novak, Agent Samuel Campbell, Agent Crowley MacLeod, Lisa Braeden, Cassandra Robinson (mentioned), Helena Spencer (OC - mentioned), Sheriff Donna Hanscum, Jo Harvelle (mentioned), Charlie Bradbury (mentioned), Rufus Turner (mentioned)

Pairing: AU Dean x Reader

Warnings: IEDs, Bombs, war is horrible, character death, self blame, injuries, Crowley is a dick.

Word Count: 7400ish

A/N: So sorry for the long wait y’all! I needed a break from the angst after angst day. I am back at it and hopefully I will get part 11 to y’all a lot faster!

Thanks to the amazing @percywinchester27 for almost killing me while editing this. This series would honestly suck without her. Thank you Ana for pulling the impossible out of me!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

MASTERLIST

Crowley looked beyond exhausted. He had been trying to get Dean, who was just staring blankly into space, to talk for hours now. Cas had forced you to lay down on the couch in the precinct when you had returned after making your phone call. It couldn’t be long now. He had booked his flight and been out the door with you still on the phone. He had reassured you everything would be okay, but you weren’t so sure. You felt like the longer Dean was in that room, using his training to keep Crowley at arm’s length, he was slipping further and further away from you. He was slowly becoming the person he had tried so hard not to be ever since he got back from Afghanistan.

“I need to talk to him Cas,” you spoke quietly, fighting to hold back your emotions. If you let any feelings through, you would be crying in no time. Tears wouldn’t help Dean. If anything they would just insure you never got in that room with him.

“I know,” Cas answered you, taking a deep breath. “It can’t be long now.”

“Long before what?” You looked up at your partner, confusion written all over his face but he just smiled at you, softly shaking his head.

“You really think I didn’t know who you left to call? Sam will be here soon. He’ll offer us the distraction you need,” Cas answered you matter of factly, making your jaw drop. You were just about to make a million excuses for your actions, knowing they could cost you your job, but Cas laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder before continuing to speak. “If you hadn’t made that call. I would have. You’re secret is safe with me Y/N.”

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Breaking Down

Request: I love your stories so much! If it is no trouble I was wondering if you could write a newtxreader where the reader feels like she has been a burden to Newt and it gets to the point when she leaves when he isn’t noticing? And then he comes to find her? Really angsty please? Thanks! 

Word Count: 2,106

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Requested by Anonymous

Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in


The pot clatters to the ground, breaking open and sending black dirt rolling across the floor. Newt cranes his head around from where he’s working. He watches the shrivelfig bounce across the ground and ricochet off his boot.

Wiping his hands on a towel, he leans down and lifts it. “Efficient.”

You return his grin with your own half-hearted smile as you turn to grab a broom.

Newt notices your insincerity. “You okay, love?”

Your back to Newt, you nod. “Fine.”

He focuses back on the potion in front of him. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you murmur. Guilt tugs at you. You don’t like lying to Newt, but this isn’t his problem.

You go to sweep up the spilled dirt, but before you can even touch a grain of it with the broom, it starts spinning around. The pieces of the pot reassemble themselves, and the dirt shoots back into the mended pot. Newt doesn’t need to look at you for you to know he’s smiling.

“No need for the broom, love, I’ve got it.”

You stare at the clean ground, unmoving. Of course you’d mess up and break something Newt needed. Of course he’d need to clean up after you.

“Everything okay?” The nonchalant question comes from over his shoulder as he stirs the mixture.

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Night Terrors

Summary:  After nearly a year of being Ladybug, Marinette thought she has the superhero thing down. That was before the nightmares started. She and Chat Noir find themselves on the Eiffel Tower where they finally have a talk about their sleepless nights.

WR: 2,826

Find it on AO3!

Enjoy!
~~~

Marinette jolts up in her bed, mouth ajar in frozen terror. A scream builds in her throat as she darts a glance around. She searches for the bodies, the blood, the akuma with a wicked grin stalking towards her. But with the moonlight illuminating her normal, if not messy, room, she slowly comes to terms with the fact that it was merely a dream.

Marinette collapses against her bedframe. Tries to steady her racing heart. Her breaths come out as sharp pants, breaking the peaceful silence of an otherwise normal night. She wraps an arm around herself. Just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare.

But logically knowing that doesn’t vanquish the phantom fingers clutching at her throat. The blood splattered across her hands. Marinette swallows back a scream. Swallows back the bile and the outrage and the terror. It does nothing to stop the tears. The water burns her eyes; blurring the shadows until they once again look like formless monsters.

Marinette bites down on her fist to muffle the sobs. Shuts her eyes tight and tries to stay calm. Tries to pretend that she isn’t shuddering so hard that the bed shakes under her. Tries to stay quiet, tries to pretend that she’s okay, that it was just a dream. It wasn’t real.

“Mari?” Tikki’s sleepy voice pauses her sobs. There’s a sigh and then the kwami flies up and puts her small hands to Marinette’s cheeks. She wipes away the tears. “That’s the third time this week.”

Marinette’s lips twist in an effort to stop another sob. When she does manage to speak, it’s hardly more than a broken whisper. “I know.”

“Oh Marinette,” Tikki says, pressing their foreheads together, “Brave, brave girl.”

“I-I’m okay.” Marinette tries for a smile, if only to ease Tikki’s worry, “Besides, if…if it keeps up at-at least I’ll be used to it, right?”

She holds the smile for a half second longer before the sobs come back full force. Just another thing she can’t control. Another thing that takes her for a ride and tugs her along and spins her around until she can’t get her bearings, until she can’t focus, until she can’t do anything, until she’s helpless, and what if she’s like this against an akuma and what if she’s helpless, what if she can’t control-

“Marinette. Take a breath.”

She does.

“Another one.”

She nods. Takes another. And another. Breath in, breath out. In, out, in, out. One thing she can control. Marinette isn’t sure how long they stay there, listening to her regulate her breathing, but by the time Marinette has calmed down, her leg is cramping.

Marinette’s tears have finally stopped. They’ve dried into tracks that tighten her skin in odd ways; a physical reminder of her weakness. She pulls away from Tikki. Mutters a thank you. Third time this week she’s woken Tikki up.

She whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Tikki says, “It’s-”

“Tikki?”

“Yes?”

“I…I just need to clear my head,” Marinette doesn’t need to finish her thought; they’ve done this enough times by now. “Spots on.”

Keep reading

Trained To Fight - Derek Hale Imagine

Characters: Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Kira Yukimura, Liam Dunbar, Mason Hewitt, Stiles Stilinski, Werewolf!Reader.

*REQUESTED*

Originally posted by expressivedolphin

“Stop. You’re doing it wrong.” Derek told you, lifting your arm with his foot.

You groan and sit up, swiping the sweat off of your forehead. “I’ve been doing it wrong for an hour, Derek. Let me move on.”

He squats down to your height. “You’ll move on when you stop doing it wrong. Now start again.”

You sigh and lay back on your stomach, pushing yourself up on your arms.

You were a newbie to the whole supernatural world but Scott had told you that you were doing better than he did. You were bitten by Liam. It happened right after Scott had bitten him and he’s apologized profusely since. Derek has been training you and Liam at separate times. He’s especially rough on you and it gets hard to cope with sometimes.

“Y/N, if you ever want to learn to control your change you have to do this right!” He shouted and you exhaled loudly.

“If I ever want to learn to control my change I should ask Scott to teach me! All you ever do is nag and tell me I’m doing it wrong! When we aren’t training you’re rude and cocky and I’m sick of your disgusting personality!” You stand up and grab your keys. You flip him off before walking out the door. You slam the door behind you and jog out to your car. You think of the expression on his face. He looked hurt, but all the things you told him were true.

After your training session with Derek you were supposed to be at Scott’s for a pack meeting. He told you it was okay to shower there and that Kira had probably left something there you could wear.

You arrive at his house and quickly shower. You wrap yourself in a towel and pad to Scott’s room. He’d laid out one of his shirts and a pair of Kira’s shorts. You changed and went back downstairs. Everyone had arrived while you were gone so you quietly sat on the couch. You noticed Derek standing in the corner, his eyes focused on you.

You made eye contact with him and then rolled your eyes, averting your attention to Scott.

Your pack meetings were never meetings, it was more of a large hangout with everyone in the pack. “Stiles, did you bring the beer?” Scott asks and Stiles nods.

“I just don’t understand why you asked the most non-threatening person here to do it. I can’t go all wolfy on anyone. Besides isn’t Derek 21?” He looks over at Derek and Derek shrugs.

“That’s none of your business.” Derek replies and Scott laughs. You and Stiles share an annoyed look.

“Hey, Derek, how’s training going?” Scott threw a look over his shoulder at Derek.

“Liam’s doing great, he’s picking it up quickly.”

“What about Y/N?” Scott smiles at you.

“She’s..not great. In fact she’s probably one of the worst I’ve seen.” He raises an eyebrow at you and you scrunch your nose, huffing as you look away from him. You catch his smirk from the corner of your eye.

“I’m sure she’s not the worst..” Scott tries to defend you.

“You should see her. It’s pathetic really.” You flick your eyes to him and stand up. “I’d be better if you weren’t so tough on me.”

Derek starts to walk toward you. “I have to be tough on you. You’re terrible. Now I get why you’re the only one who doesn’t get invited to fight.”

You shake your head as he nears. “You’re a terrible teacher. I could get better tips on controlling my change from a sidewalk crack.” You cross your arms.

You hear Stiles spit out his beer, laughing. “God, you’re great.” He mutters and you smirk back at Derek.

At this point you and Derek were inches apart. “I wish you were more like Liam. You’re so idiotic. You can’t and you won’t learn anything. You’re better off as an omega.”

You cock your head to the side and whisper. “Then kick me out of the pack. I’d rather be alone than have to spend all of my time with you.”

“If I could kick you out I would. God, I wish I could.” He grits his teeth.

You flash your eyes at him and you feel your claws start to poke through. “Go to hell, asshole.”

Derek flashes his eyes back, trying to tell you to back down. At this point you were closer than you’d ever been to him, your chests were flush. “I knew I should’ve let Scott train you. I tried to take you under my wing, I thought you had potential. Now I know you’re just a pathetic little girl. You’re a sad excuse for a werewolf and it offends me you’d even call yourself apart of the pack.”

You scoff. “All you do is sulk around. You bitch and whine about your family all of the time. Don’t think I don’t hear you. You are the absolute worst person I’ve ever met, and that’s saying a lot considering I’ve met murderous psychopaths. I may be a sad excuse for a werewolf, but you, Derek Hale, are a sad excuse for a person. I hope you feel better now.” You push him off of you and go up to Scott’s room.

You sigh into your hands, trying to fight off the tears. You looked up to Derek, you thought of him as an older brother even. That all changed when you were bit. He seemed even more unbearable when you were in heat. It had only happened once but he wouldn’t even look at you. He was disgusted.

You knew you couldn’t cry because everyone would hear you. You sat in silence for about an hour before grabbing your keys and going downstairs.

Derek catches you at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey, I-”

You put a hand up. “Shove it, Hale.” You spit and you push past him.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Liam pokes his head up at you.

“Home.” You mumble and head for the door. You remember you’re in Scott’s shirt and you have it off and tossed at him before you can process your thoughts. You had a sports bra on, so there was nothing to see but you still smelled someone. You scanned the room and tried to pinpoint who’s arousal you caught but you didn’t care enough to stay to find out. “Bye guys. Kira I’ll get these back to you tomorrow.” She waves as you close the door.

The next day everyone was schedule to meet at Deaton’s to talk. Deaton wasn’t even in town but you guys needed a safe place. You’d had a Tinder date planned for a couple weeks so you were obviously over dressed. You’d felt online dating was a bit of a leap at your age but you still tried it. You walked in, sporting a pair of red stilettos. You had a black dress on that gathered at the waist. You’d curled your hair and done a full face of makeup. You felt way better than you had the previous night.

You heard Mason whistle and you laughed. “Shut up. I just wanted to make an appearance.”

He laughs. “Well you did. Quite a great one too.”

You head to the back room and everyone’s head peeked up at your entrance.

“Hey I can’t stay long, I have a date but I was hoping you guys could fill me in.” You smile. “Sure, come over here.” Scott waves you over. Derek’s eyes follow you as you walk.

You whip your head around to look at him. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

“Who’s your date?” Derek blurts out.

“Why do you care?” You cross your arms.

“Here we go again.” Scott says under his breath.

“I’m just wondering. I uh..I just wanted to make sure you were being safe.” You see everyone exchange glances.

“Since when do you care about my safety?” You roll your eyes and listen to Scott as he tells you what plan they’ve come up with.

Your date was a bust. You’d worn your good thong for nothing and all you could think about was a bowl of macaroni and cheese and a glass of wine.

You walk in the door and you’re greeted by Scott. “What the hell? How’d you-”

“Not important.” Scott interrupts.“You’re into Derek aren’t you?”

You’re caught off guard. “What? I-uh..no? No.” You try to say casually and Scott smirks.

“That’s all I need. Bye!” He walks out and your left in your empty apartment mildly confused. You spend most of your time wondering how, as a twenty-two year old woman, you spent all of your time with high school kids. They were all pretty mature, but sometimes they were a handful.

You didn’t want to go to training but you knew you had to. Derek never told you how bad you really were and now you feel like you need to prove yourself. You decide to dress up for the occasion. You wear a blue sports bra with matching athletic pants. You tie your shoes before leaving for Derek’s.

You weren’t sure he even knew you were coming. You were shocked to see everyone there when you walked in.

“Who’re you so dressed up for, Y/N?” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“I’m not dressed up. Shut up.” You roll your eyes.

“Ready?” You ask Derek and he nods.

“I’m sure he is.” Scott looked at you two playfully.

You caught a whiff of someone and you sighed. You smelled arousal again. If you’d known everyone would be here with their hormones you would’ve worn a shirt.

“I’ll take you out back.” Derek mutters.

“As a matter of fact, he’ll take you anywhere.” Stiles smirks.

“Shut up, Stiles.” You and Derek said in unison.

“In my defense I was just enhancing the vibe.” Stiles throws his hands up.

“What vibe?” You cross your arms.

“Oh, you know..the overwhelming sexual tension.” Kira says casually.

You roll your eyes. You had feelings for Derek, yeah..but he didn’t reciprocate so why should you dwell on it?

“Oh, can it. All of you.” You shake your head. Derek leads you to the backyard and you start stretching. As you bent forward to touch your toes the scent of arousal grew stronger.

The scent was masked by cologne as a pair of strong hands gripped your waist.

“Relax. I’m just spotting you.”

“I don’t need spotted for stretches.” You stand up and grab a blanket, spreading it out before lying on your back. You pull a knee to your chest and Derek kneels in front of you, putting weight on it.

“You know what my mom used to tell me to make training easier?” Derek says, making small talk.

“What?” You switched knees.

“She told me to tell her a story. Usually I just told her about my day, but it made it more bearable.”

You move to your hands and knees, reaching back to grab your ankle. “It probably helps to have someone who loves you training you. Someone who cares about you.” You look over your shoulder at him as he pulls back on your ankle.

“You have that. You have that probably more than I did.” Derek replies. You drop your ankle and look at him. Did he just say he loves you?

“What did you just say?” You ask slowly.

“I think I just confessed my love for you.” Derek rubs his eyes.

“You…love..me?” You point at yourself as the two of you stand.

“It’s too late to change what I said now..but yes. I love you like crazy actually.”

You were going to milk this. “What do you love?” You smirk.

“God, what isn’t there to love? I love your smart mouth, the way you scrunch your face up when I annoy you, I love how you smell after you’ve been outside, I…honestly? I just love you.”

At this point you probably look like a cartoon character, when their hearts are pounding out of their chest. “I love you too.” You say quickly. You didn’t mean to say it, it just slipped out.

The both of you immediately are attached, your lips fitting perfectly together. You smell the arousal again, just now linking that it was Derek. You didn’t want to know before, because of how turned on you got when you caught the scent. You were afraid you’d be attracted to a high schooler.

Derek picks you up, somehow managing to stay in sync with your lips. You both pull away and lay your foreheads on each other.

“Why were you such an asshole to me?” You say quietly.

“I didn’t want you to feel obligated to date me if you knew I was in love with you.” He shrugs.

“Do you really think I’m as pathetic as you said?” You ask.

“Not at all, I just love when you’re mad.” He chuckled.

“I’m sorry for comparing you to a murderer.” You laugh.

“It’s okay. It’s kind of fitting.” Derek laughs with you.

The two of you are torn from each other by the sound of cheers and applause. You see everyone on the porch clapping and you roll your eyes.

“For God’s sake, go back inside!” You yell and they laugh.

“We should probably go back to my place.” You whisper in his ear and he smirks.

“Fine by me.”