Rhythm | Lee Joo Heon | One-Shot

jooheon (monstax) + you (reader)
word count: 7,233
warnings: i have no excuse for this flithy, graphic smut (that includes but is not limited to thigh riding, breath play, mild degradation, spanking, etc) and strong language (some slut shaming) and brief mentions of infidelity
a/n: i was inspired by the new mv and channeled that inspiration into a gang!au, bad boy jooheon sexy time fest and before you say anything yes i know he is a total squish in real life that’s why it’s called fiction :)

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behave

A/N: Alright, so I realized I never specified this, but I don’t actually feel that comfortable writing sex scenes (in any writing). It’s not because Peter is supposed to be 15, since Tom Holland is 20 years old, but just because I’ve never written smut, so I’m not quite at that level yet. Maybe one day, followers, maybe one day…

#84: “It’s like you want to ruin men/women for me.”

#87: “They always make shower sex sound so appealing, but honestly, this is getting dangerous.”

Summary: You and Peter have been dating for 6 months and Aunt May leaves the two of you alone.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader


“It’s like you want to ruin men for me,” you complained, laying on Peter’s bed. He turned to look at you, confused, though you could see the smallest hint of a smile on his face. He had been trying to reach up to the top shelf in his closet and his t-shirt kept riding up, exposing his torso to you. The short sleeves were rolled up, exposing more of his biceps, and you just couldn’t help your wandering eyes.

“Oh, hush,” he laughed, finally grabbing the clothes he’d wanted. Peter bounded over and sat beside you on the bed, fiddling with his phone. You watched him with a soft smile on your lips.

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Always be Here

Originally posted by squintlovely

Charachters: Jughead x Reader

Word Count: 1,200

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, ABUSE - if you are at all uncomfortable with this then I highly suggest you do not read.

Request: an imagine with jughead comforting a reader with nightmares pls <3<3

A/N: Here you go sweet anon! I hope you enjoy ;-*


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Your past was rough. But everyone knew that. Your dad beat your mother and sometimes you until the age of 9 when a neighbor filed a police report after hearing the terrible sounds one night. Your father was currently in jail serving a life sentence and your mom had packed all of your things and moved you both back to her hometown of Riverdale. 

You kept to yourself mostly, until a raven haired boy by the name of Jughead Jones approached you. He had been intrigued with you the moment his eyes landed on you, he noticed all of your behaviors but never pried, trying to make sure you were never uncomfortable.  

Eventually, your past made its way past your lips a couple years after meeting him and all he could do was hug you as you told him detail after detail accompanied with a load of tears. But he never minded, in his eyes you were strong and beautiful and he could never see you otherwise. After that, you both were closer than ever, and you were always there for each other, especially when a good rant just need to leave your systems. 

Your mother on the other hand never really did recover. She was always in and out of rehab every few months, claiming she was going through yet another problem. Because of this, she was never really there to parent you, you practically raised yourself. Without Jughead you would’ve truly been alone.
Your past plagued you with nightmares. Your mom’s screams for help, your father yelling at her to shut up. And then he would come after you. Night after night the torment continued and each morning you would lock it all away and wait until the next one that evening.

You never let anyone now about the nightmares. They were your own little secret. Jughead had his suspicions when he would continuously see the bags under your eyes, but said nothing.

Now it was another normal Friday night. You and Jughead were both at your house finishing homework so that you wouldn’t be stressed about it the rest of the weekend. He usually would accompany you on Friday nights so that you wouldn’t be lonely. (Your mom had checked herself into another rehab because of ‘attempted drug use”, but you knew it was just another excuse.)  

On that night, you had ordered takeout from Pop’s as you both worked on homework for Algebra 2. After you had finished an hour later, you realized just how late it was. “I can’t believe it’s already 10:00.” Jughead quickly looked at the clock to confirm your statement. “Wow.” He commented. 

“You turned to him with a look of worry. “Jug, I don’t want you walking home this late, especially with Jason’s death. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you-.” He quickly cut you off. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, don’t worry. I’ll sleep on the couch here or something.” He assured you. You nodded and went to grab him a few blankets and a pillow so that he wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. He thanked you and then went to situate them in a way that would suit his tall figure.

“I’m go gonna go to bed then, Goodnight, I’ll see you in the morning Jug.” You said as you kissed him on the cheek and then headed off to your room. You brushed your teeth and washed your face quickly before changing into some pj’s and climbing into bed. You sighed softly knowing what was to come when you closed your eyes but persuaded yourself to do so anyway. A few minutes later, you were asleep.

“You lying slut!” your father roared as your mother flinched in her seat. “You know you aren’t supposed to talk to other men! What the hell were you thinking!?” Your mother looked at him confused. “I was talking to my cousin. I haven’t seen him in 5 ye-.” She was interrupted with a loud slap. She gripped her cheek as hot tears ran down her face.

“Don’t talk back to me! You should know not to by now.” He took another swig of what seemed to be his fifth beer. “I don’t fucking care if he was your cousin, you’re mine.” He took another drink. “You and little y/n over there.” He turned to you as you tried to avoid his stare. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.” He growled as you quickly looked up at him. “I-I’m sorry daddy.” He grinned, “That’s better. “Now,” he walked over to your small trembling frame and came to stop with his arms crossed.

“Any news about school? How are your grades? He opened another beer as he waited for you to answer. ‘Well, we had a spelling test but I…” you trailed off knowing you’d be in trouble. “But what?” He snarled. “I-I-I didn’t d-do so well.” You finished quietly as you looked down. Your father was enraged.

You felt a burning pain on your cheek and shrieked in response. “Why the fuck are we putting you in a damn school if you never learn anything you fucking idiot!!?” he shouted as another strike came down. All you could do was scream when-

You were shaken awake as blue worried eyes peered down at you. His rustled black hair fell in his face as he called your name trying to get a response.
“Y/n?” you sat up breathing hard as you gripped the sheets, trying to gain some control over your movements. Stray tears fell down your face as Jughead pulled you into his body trying his best to calm you down. “Shh y/n… It’s ok… I’m here…” You only heard small bits of what he was saying as you tried to calm down.

“Hey, can you hear me? Good. Now listen to my voice. I want you to breathe in and out with me, understood?” you nodded as you listened to his soothing voice and inhaled. “Good job, you’re doing so good, I’m here y/n, I’m here.” You continued to deep breathe and eventually the tears stopped. But Jughead continued to hold you, slightly rocking you back and forth.

“How long?” he finally asked after a moment of silence. “How long what?” “How long have you been having nightmares?” he clarified. You finally detached yourself from him and immediately regretted it when his comforting arms disappeared. “Since I moved here.” You replied quietly.

“What” you cowered and bowed your head immediately muttering a sorry. “No.” he lifted your head up with his pointer finger. “Don’t you ever be sorry. I’m just upset that you never told me about this within the longevity of our friendship.” He looked into your deep e/c eyes and sighed. 

“Were they about your dad?” you nodded slowly. He silently cursed to under his breath. “Y/n, I can’t pretend I know what you’re going through because I don’t. But I will ALWAYS be here for you, ok? Always. Even if its 2 am and you’ve woken up with another nightmare call me, and I will come for you. I promise.” Your lip trembled as he pulled you into another embrace. “I’ll always be here…”

And I Thought You Might Be Mine

*click through to read on ao3

Written by: Nai | @hiddenpolkadots
Prompt: Tol: is that my shirt?
Smol, wearing a shirt that goes down to their knees: … no
words: 2500


Bellamy is aware that living with Clarke was going to come with some challenges.

(Or, as Octavia put it, rather excitedly, “It’s going to be a total fucking shitshow, and Raven and I have a bet going on who would commit murder first.”)

But despite their friends utmost certainty that things were going to crash and burn within the first week, they’ve been happily living together for the past six months, so he made sure to tell them to suck it after they hit the two week mark, because he’s a responsible adult.

That isn’t to say that it’s a walk in the park either. He and Clarke still argue about every little thing, but that’s just how they communicate. Now they just add arguing about domestic things such as whose turn it is to do the dishes, or why hasn’t he taken out the trash yet into the mix as well. He maybe likes it a bit too much, but no one needs to know about that.

He’s also become privy to a lot more of her quirks which- he likes to think that being friends, or at least acquaintances, with Clarke for over four years meant that he knew her fairly well, but once they move in, it becomes a whole other story.

For example, he learns that despite being left handed, she brushes her hair and teeth with her right, she always has to keep a full cup of water on her bedside table at night, and she needs more pillows than necessary to sleep.

Perhaps the most interesting quirk of hers is that she’s always stealing his clothes, all the fucking time.

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trace

anonymous requested: Bucky fluff! He needs to be happy. One morning he wakes up before you and you’re turned to face away from him. He starts tracing shapes on your back and you wake up, but still pretend to be asleep. You feel him trace “Will you marry me?” You turn over and face him and trace “Yes” on his arm. :)

tagging: @redgillan@mattymattymerduck, @avengerofyourheart, @wakandasoldier, @darlingbuchanan, @bemystucky, @idorkish, @iwillbeinmynest, @aubzylynn, @angryschnauzer, @almondbuttercup, (and just for fun) @bovaria, @hymnofthevalkyries, @beccaanne814-blog, @capsbuchanan, @brighterlights, @bbbarneswrites, @writingbarnes, @buckysglow, @buckyskorpion, @austinamelio, @bionic-buckyb

warnings: nudity, implied smut

additional: i realize now that my fics either start with the character waking up in the morning or waking up in the middle of the night. also i’m bad at titles. thank you for the request!

The warmth of the sun on his face woke him up. Around nine o’clock, Bucky opened his eyes and was immediately met with an image of you, asleep, curled up with your back to him. He grinned at the sight of you, your body still bare after the events of last night, save for the covers tangled haphazardly around your hips. He let his eyes trail down your frame, following the curve of your shoulder, the shadow of your lower half beneath the blanket. His gaze paused to admire the ridges of muscle in your back, and he felt the urge to touch you again, so he did, grazing your shoulder blade with his fingertips. He used his right hand so he could truly feel the soft, warm pliancy of your skin.

It always felt unreal to him, the fact that he could touch you like this, not even because he wanted to, but because you liked it. You wanted him, and after all this time, it was still unbelievable to him. He loved you, and you loved him back. He hadn’t ever felt this way before, so sure of what he wanted, of whom he wanted. He wanted to lay there in bed with you forever, tucked under the covers and tangled up in each other. He wanted to spend every waking moment with you, protecting you, holding you, kissing you. He wanted just as badly to be protected by you, held by you, kissed by you. Bucky knew what he wanted; he just couldn’t believe you felt the same way. You loved him. And the thought of you loving him brought a giddy smile to his face.

You made a soft, tired sound, and Bucky felt you stir beneath his hand. His smile deepened, and he could see that you were pretending to sleep now. He stroked your back, drawing swirls across your skin, listening to your breath as it sped up just slightly, notifying him that you were indeed awake. Fine. He wanted to ask you this aloud, but if you were going to be a tease, so would he. He scooted closer to you and went back to tracing shapes on your back, slowly, efficiently, hoping you would realize what he was doing. W-I-L-L… Y-O-U…

Bucky hadn’t even started the last word when you turned over in bed suddenly, launching yourself at him with a squeal of delight. He laughed while you lay on top of him, kissing his face over and over and over. “Good morning to you, too,” he muttered while you held your lips to his cheek and made exaggerated smooching sounds.

You pulled back to gaze down at him, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. You were smiling; the sight made his heart swell in his chest. He could feel your fingers on his arm, but he was too lost in you to understand what you had traced. “Yes,” you murmured to him, your voice soft.

Bucky blinked, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Yes?” he repeated, dazed. “You mean—”

“Yes! My answer is yes, James!” you exclaimed. You brushed a strand of hair from his face—so delicately, he almost sighed with content—and kissed his temple. Smooch. “You’re such a romantic, admit it.”

Bucky scrunched up his nose in faux disgust. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes.” Smooch. “You are.”

“No.”

“Yes!” Smooch, smooch.

“You already said ‘yes’ to me, doll.”

“Oh, I’m not your doll.” This time you smooched the spot right between his eyebrows, then the tip of his nose, the cleft in his chin. “I’m your spouse.”

“You’ll always be my doll.” His hand had found its way to the back of your thigh; he squeezed it affectionately, and his other hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheekbone. He tilted his head up to kiss your lips but you pulled back just out of reach. He frowned, brows knitted together in a pout. “And we’re not even married yet, sweetheart.”

“Key word: ‘yet’.” You kissed the corner of his lips, eyeing him cheekily. Your mouth ghosted over his, waiting for his next move.

Bucky grinned and kissed you back.

one-shots (4) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three

A Hug Will Suffice - phangirlingforphan

Summary: Dan has a bad day. Phil makes it better. Pure fluff, angst ridden Dan.

Airborne - jilliancares

Summary: Dan and Phil have a 23 hour flight and a brilliant way to entertain themselves.

Backpack Blues - triplestardust

Summary: Dan and Phil accidentally switch backpacks at the train station.

Bring Your Special Someone - dilisinlove

Summary: Dan and Phil go on a trip with Dan’s family to the Isle of Wight, with feelings under both their belts and a little bit of confusion that may turn out to benefit them both in the long run.

Call Me Daddy - jilliancares

Summary: Phil asks Dan what his kink is, but Dan doesn’t feel so inclined to tell him.

Closure - placingglaciers

Summary: In which Dan returns after a long time of being away and talks with someone he thought he’d never see again.

Collab - moonlight-djh

Summary: Phil makes a collab with Caspar, and Dan gets a tad bit jealous.

Crazy Stupid, You And Me (ao3) - notinclinedtomaturity

Summary: In the middle of a fight, Dan accidentally screams out his true feelings for Phil. In a panic, he runs out the the apartment (and London) before Phil has the chance to react.

Crumpled Paper - mandyjpg

Summary: Dan is walking home when he finds a small crumpled piece of paper in the rain. He picks it up, calls the number and he cannot believe that it’s the voice mail of AmazingPhil from YouTube.

Doctors Not Only Heal Physical Wounds - irphanfic

Summary: Dr. Dan Howell, the dreamiest doctor of the hospital is charming, attractive and has a motorbike, all Dr. Phil Lester wanted in a a partner. After a big scare makes them both connect as more than co-workers, how will they manage to develop their new friendship?

Echoes Of Fashion - irphanfic

Summary: Dan Howell is a 26 year old famous fashion designer. In the shooting for his new clothing line, what will happen when a new model called Phil Lester gets on his nerves?

Gamos - insanityplaysfics

Summary:  Phil manages to get himself cursed by the God’s again, but this time he won’t tell Dan what he did wrong, and Dan’s left to figure it out for himself. Modern Day Greek Gods AU

If People Were Colors, He Was Red and I Was Blue - notdeletingmyinternethistory

Summary: In which Dan and Phil’s relationship hits a hard patch when Phil has troubles. Dan associates his difficult love with different “colors” like blue and grey. Feat. mute!Dan and depressed!Phil.

Masked Intruder - phansdick

Summary: Dan is a robber who steals valuable objects nearly every night. When he goes into a flat decorated with plants and stuffed animals, he can’t seem to keep himself away. Dan’s not used to pretty boys stealing things of his own; especially when they steal his heart.

Secret Santa - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan and Phil aren’t exactly what you would call friends… but they weren’t exactly enemies either. It was complicated. But things aren’t so complicated any longer when they both participate in the Secret Santa.

Sharing Is Caring - irphanfic

Summary: Dan and Phil have been going out for almost a year and Dan is wondering why Phil hasn’t already introduced him to his family yet. What will happen when he ‘pressures’ Phil to do it and sees what his boyfriend was hiding?

Snapchat - phancyphanfiction

Summary: Dan’s a fuckboy after Phil’s nudes.

Somewhat Of A Christmas Miracle - luminaryhowell

Summary: for unknown reasons, Dan despises the dark-haired man in the house opposite him. all it takes is a community christmas competition to turn this one-sided rivalry into a full-blown conflict - but somehow it ends up okay in the end.

This Love Is Irrelephant - extrememehowell

Summary: Dan or Phil are in a biology test or something and they try to tell the other the answer which is something like elephant and they think they say ‘I love you’

You’re Pregnant?! - phansdick

Summary: In which Phil gives Dan a Christmas card that makes him think Phil is pregnant, but really they just got a new dog.

Love Unintentional

Originally posted by ohstylesno

Anonymous asked: Hey, I was thinking maybe you could write about Harry and Y/N being celebrities and having to do a PR stunt. They both hate PR stunts because they are in love with their current girlfriend/boyfriend (which r okay with the PR stunt). Harry and Y/N end up falling for each other.

Word Count: 2973

A/M:  This idea was amazing anon! I might have tweaked it a little bit, but thank you so much for sending it to me! I’m sorry it took forever for me to get this up. There will be a part two. Hope you enjoy! Tell me if you do! :) Xxx

*Other Parts: Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six


You insisted on putting the last touches of your makeup yourself, now finishing your look with the right shade of red. 

“What do you think?” You asked turning to your boyfriend as you did a little spin to show off your dress. 

“You look great. Always do.” He said barely looking up. 

You crossed your arms and gave him an annoyed look. 

“What?” He asked half annoyed, “You ask the same thing every time, and ever since you started "going out” with him it’s become routine.“

"Not going to wish me luck?" 

"Luck on what? It’s another date with him isn’t it?”

“It’s a premier. I’m kind of nervous actually. It’s my first one”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. You’ve gone through this kind of thing before." 

You rolled your eyes, "Whatever. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said waving him off 

 

It had been the routine for the last 6 months. You had become a rising star within the last two year; a star that came to the level of popularity that your agent had decided that it’d be good for you if you were to have a “fake boyfriend.” But never in your wildest dreams did you think that this fake boyfriend would be Harry Styles.

 

—7 months ago—

“What on earth would he get out of "dating” me?“ 

"Well,” your agent started, “He’s obviously very famous and popular around the world, and you need the publicity. You're this close,” he said giving a hand gesture that showed the small distance he was referring to, “This close to being the next huge thing. If you do this with Harry, it will prolong your career." 

You sighed, "Again, that wasn’t my question. What does Harry get out of it? I’m not that famous. What benefit does he get?”

Your agent frowned, “I thought you liked him. I thought you’d be thrilled to "go out” with him.“

"I am! He’s great, he’s cute. But more importantly he’s a genuine guy. I have met him before. I just want to know why. I don’t want to completely take advantage of him." 

He heaved a deep sigh, "You attract a certain audience and style and it’s something that his agent seems to like as well to broaden his own audience like he will for you.”

You were able to breathe a little easier, now knowing more about this seemingly odd situation. Even if it was something that’s been done since the very beginning of Hollywood and the fame industry. 

 

“Alright. I’ll agree to it if he agrees to it. But you know, we have to talk to [Y/BF/N] about this. I don’t know how he’ll react to something like this.” And you started to feel anxious at the thought. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll talk to him about it.” Your agent said, “Also we’ll have to meet with Harry and his agent to discuss the ground rules. You said you’ve met him before right?”

You nodded, “At a party about 2 months ago." 

"Good. I’ll call you when we’ll be meeting with him. It’s also when we’ll discuss how we’ll bring you two into the public eye.”

“Whoa. Hold on, shouldn’t we wait until he agrees to being my "boyfriend”?“

He gave a look, "Wait I didn’t mention it? He already has." 

"What? Oh. Well alright.”

Everything had be sorted out beforehand, and you and Harry had met to see what you would both agree upon. The terms for the relationship were both simple and basic.

No sex.

No spontaneous PDA 

And no spontaneous trips away. 

Everything had to have been planned and known beforehand. 

 

You didn’t have a doubt in your mind. The rules were too easy. You both were already taken. This was simply work. 

 

The first few times a month after the idea and rules were laid out, you had both made it look easy. But it wasn’t quite the “young love” that people thought it would be.

But your agents and the managing teams had an idea to make the relationship seem more believable. 

So this time the scene was set- a table near a window of a very public restaurant. The lighting was very dim just enough to enhance the candlelight that was at every table, but the focus on you and Harry was very clear. 

The place wasn’t busy… yet; but with the whispers of people nearby, including the staff, you knew that the plan was working and that by the time you were to both walk out,  the paparazzi would be everywhere. 

 

Just as planned. You thought. 

Keep reading

late night kiss pt. 1

A/N: This isn’t a request, but rest assured, the next request is being worked on! I just couldn’t get this idea out of my head, it seemed super cute. Enjoy!

summary: Spider-Man came crashing through your window at midnight and you had no idea what to do.

pairing: peter parker x reader

part two. part three. part four. part five.


You’d changed into your fuzzy pajamas at 10pm and it was now almost midnight. Deciding you should probably go to sleep, since you had school the next day, you sighed and turned off your laptop, plugging your phone into the charger on your small desk.

Your window was still open, but you lived on the seventh floor, so you weren’t too worried about anyone getting up, considering the fire escape had been broken off from the first level to the fourth during a gang fight that Spider-Man had intervened with.

You nuzzled up into your bed after brushing your teeth and turning the lights off. You closed your eyes and let out a breath, sleep almost immediately claiming you.

A loud bang erupted from near your window and your body startled awake again. You looked over at your window and saw nothing, groaning since you’d just been about to fall asleep.

Keep reading

home [bucky barnes]

you missed your bucky.

tagging: @redgillan, @mattymattymerduck, @avengerofyourheart, @wakandasoldier, @darlingbuchanan, @bemystucky, @idorkish, @iwillbeinmynest, @aubzylynn, @angryschnauzer, @almondbuttercup

warnings: none!

additional notes: since bucky just had a birthday, i figured i should write a lil something for him! i also couldn’t help but include a trip to cuba in this because i went to cuba in february and had an AMAZING time. it’s a beautiful place and i recommend traveling there if you’re able.

You’d been assigned to solo missions before, but never anything this lengthy. Two months seemed a long time away from home, away from your friends, away from Bucky. He had been even sadder than you, when you told him how long you would be gone. You knew he was happy for you for receiving such an important assignment, but you two had gone on nearly every mission together since he first became part of the team.

Thus the two months had been hard. You’d managed to adjust to the humid Cuban weather, the soft, frictionless Cuban dialect, and the spotty cell service, but what you had never grown accustomed to was the loneliness that came with working alone. You missed working out with Sam, jogging with Steve, sparring with Natasha, exploring the tower with Clint, even testing out new gear with Bruce and Tony. Most of all, you missed waking up next to Bucky every morning, holding on to him as you slept, eating outside with him and admiring the city from the balcony. You missed running your fingers through his hair, cradling his head in your lap while he napped, dressing his wounds after rough recons. Even with the bright-colored buildings, the beautiful inhabitants, and the vibrant culture of Cuba surrounding you, it was so easy to miss him.

Finally, on your last night, Natasha had picked you up in the quinjet, and you were on your way home, eager to reunite with your friends and your Bucky. You slept for most of the journey, curled up in your seat, and woke up to Nat poking your shoulder, having just landed at HQ. You extended your arms over your head in a stretch, your excited grin broken by a huge yawn.

“Home, sweet home,” you mumbled, following Nat off the jet and into the hangar. You dragged your feet to the elevator and tried not to fall asleep during the ride to your floor. You’d been expecting a text from Bucky the moment you arrived home, but you hadn’t received any messages, aside from Steve asking—as usual—how the mission went. You had just texted him a condensed version of a mission report when the elevator doors opened, and you walked out into the hallway.

The door to your room hadn’t even shut behind you before you started to strip, toeing off your combat boots and wiggling out of your tactical pants. When you were down to your undershirt and shorts, you headed straight for your bedroom, tossing your clothes into the laundry hamper on your way. You flicked on the lightswitch in your room and weren’t surprised to find Bucky curled up on your bed, fast asleep and hugging your pillow against his chest.

You smiled at the sight of him, stepping over to him and sitting on the side of the bed. The mattress dipped under your added weight, and he stirred, his eyes fluttering. You stroked his hair back from his face and leaned down to kiss his bristly cheek.

He didn’t open his eyes, but his lips curled into a smile. “Hey,” he mumbled, reaching out blindly to wrap an arm around you.

“I’m home,” you sang, kissing his forehead and his nose and finally his lips. They were as plush as you remembered. “Scoot over, baby, I’m exhausted.”

Bucky rolled over to the side of the bed closest to the wall while you slipped under the covers with him. His arms encircled you, holding you firmly against him. Even half-asleep, he looked so smug, now that he had you to hold on to instead of the pillow.

“Hey, FRIDAY, can you hit the lights?” you called out. The room went dark again, and you cuddled into Bucky’s chest, breathing in the scent of him. “Did you miss me?” you teased.

Bucky hummed, yawning so wide that you could see his canines. “Every day, doll.”

Pain in the Ass - Joker x Reader imagine

(gif credit goes to whoever made it)

{A/N} I had such a hard time making this “imagine” length, I wanted to draw it out further! I hope ya like it my lovely anonymous reader!
P.S. I’m still working on everyones requests and Play the Ace, I just thought I’d make that known. :)
xo


Prompt: Can i request a joker imagine with this prompt?  "You’re never really ever going to love me are you?“ “I’m nothing to you, always have been, always will be.”

Warnings: Cursing.
Masterlist

Imagine the Joker standing outside of your cell at Belle Reve.
You helped him on a dangerous heist- the usual Friday night for the two of you, but this time things went awry. When Batman showed up to ‘take out the trash,’ your beloved Mistah J left you to the wolves bats.

“You’re never really ever going to love me are you? I’m nothing to you, always have been, always will be,” you spit through the cold iron bars you’re clutching. This time, the harshness of tone is coming from you, and it couldn’t feel more satisfying.

Your hair is a mess and the bags under your eyes have been defined and darkened a bit more from the stress you’ve been under. Your hands are rough and covered in flakes from the faint rust encrusted on the bars you try to get out of daily.

He’s let you stay here for a few weeks now, enduring torture and electric shock therapy of all kinds as “routine, since you’re just whacked too far the fuck out anyway,” they tell you. You can’t help but be bitter at the thought of knowing he knows exactly what’s happening to you and still didn’t come to help you bust out.
He’s sent you inside messages, saying he’ll “be there tonight,” but tonight after tonight came around, and he was nowhere to be seen.

His stare is haunting, and you can see the anger rising in his body as he balls one hand into a fist. He quickly releases it, stretching out his fingers and cracking his neck. You don’t give him time to calculate the sarcastic response you expect from him before you raise your voice. What did it matter now? You were just as safe behind these bars as you were in danger.

“You keep me toting along side of you, for what?! A distraction for you to get away when shit gets tough!”

You’re too angry to think about the fact that by now someone should’ve heard you, or even seen him.

“Remember the one and only time you told me you love me…” you roll your neck slightly, cocking your head back and to the side as your hair falls around your face with a demented, disappointed smile. You grip harder onto the bars, your knuckles turning white, “You love me, you love me, you love me.. Bullshit!”

His eyes stay locked on yours, and his silence already speaks volumes for what could possibly be in the cards for you if you ever did manage to break out of this hell hole on your own. You notice his eyes travel past you and he nods once. An abrupt large explosion on the other side of your cell causes you to lurch forward into the bars as you brace yourself amidst the now flying debris.

When the smoke clears enough so you can see in front of you, The Jokers gone.

You turn around hastily, throwing your arms at your sides. Fueled on rage again, your inhale to scream at the top of your lungs, but a pair of hands catch your shoulders tightly and a rough kiss is planted onto your lipstick-less lips. You shake your head once your lips part from each others and open your {E/C} eyes. There is he is, staring back at you with a condescending red grin.

Such a pain in the ass, {Y/N}, I did not miss that..” he growls as he grabs your hand and starts running, dragging you behind him through the rubble and out of the cell. You can’t help but roll your eyes and let a smirk slide across your features as you trail behind him out of the prison.

Tags: @russianintothings

That’s It (Kylo Ren x Reader Smut)

Warnings: This is shit, please don’t read. I liked Good Boy better. Semi-violent, dubious consent(??), glove kink. Fucking on top of dead peoples ashes? While grandpa vader watches? Orgasm delay/denial. Other stuff..

Word Count: A lot. 2.7K

A/N: Ok um shit i….  This is a thing i did, idk if anyone’s done this yet.. Why does this shit turn me on??? Why couldn’t I be normal? I’d like to apologize to jesus and my dad. Also, the fucking tub of ashes is in his Vader room bc that makes more sense than a random cell. 

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anonymous asked:

Hi there! Do you have any compilation lists of Richonne first times one shots? Please.

Originally posted by karlaxmena

Yes, we sure do! Here is a small listing for you and our lovely followers. Most of these are set in season 6 when Richonne went canon (cue **internal squealing**), and a few stories are part of a collection of one-shots. If we come across any more we’ll be sure to add them to our list going forward.

We hope this helps. 

Enjoy :)

Grapes

You were applying some grape flavored lip balm to your chapped lips when you felt a familiar chin rest on your shoulder.
“ What flavour? ” He asked, snaking his arms around your waist.

“ Grape, why? ” you asked, your curiosity starting to peek through. He turned you around to face him. You thought you would be met with his soft lips but no. You were met with a scrunched up nose and a sour face as he mumbled one word distastefully, “ Grape. ”

 You smirked and turned around to get the blueberry one instead. You grabbed a tissue and wiped off the first try of lip balm and applied Percy’s favorite flavour, otherwise known as blueberry. You turned back around with that same smirk plastered to your lips. “ Am I kissable yet? ” You questioned, waggling your eyebrows and leaning in close to him.


He returned the smirk and crashed his lips onto yours. He gently scraped his teeth across your bottom lip and cupped your cheek with one hand. You responded quickly, not wanting to miss this kiss. You draped your arms around his shoulders and twirled his black locks around your finger. He pulled away all too soon. “ You’re always kissable, I just prefer blueberry ” he said while chuckling.

“ Hmm? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that part before could you repeat it? ” You said before pulling him by the collar of his shirt to meet your lips once again.

thief

you’ve been wearing a lot of dean’s clothes lately.

tagging: @redgillan, @mattymattymerduck, @avengerofyourheart, @wakandasoldier, @darlingbuchanan, @bemystucky, @idorkish, @iwillbeinmynest, @aubzylynn, @angryschnauzer, @almondbuttercup

warnings: suggestive content. i kept this pretty sfw though.

additional notes: ok i wrote another dean fic cuz i love him so much. female reader in this one, although tbh it’s pretty ambiguous. let me know if you want to read more dean/reader or sam/reader, cuz i would love to hear your guys’ ideas :)

Originally posted by soluscheese

Dean didn’t think much of it at first. In fact, when he woke up Saturday morning and found you cooking breakfast in one of his button-down shirts, he found himself smiling. The day before, he had seen you wearing a pair of his drawstring pants while you researched in the library, and earlier that week he’d seen you napping on the couch in one of Sam’s sweatshirts. He figured you were just a clothing thief, or that his and Sam’s clothes were just particularly comfortable for you.

Then he noticed that it was usually just his clothes you were stealing. You would wear Dean’s T-shirts, Dean’s flannel, Dean’s jacket. One day, when it was your turn to fold laundry, he’d stopped by the laundry room to bring you a sandwich, and he’d caught you holding one of his shirts to your face, sniffing it deeply. You hadn’t even acted flustered about it, just boasted about how the fabric softener you were using was magical.

Even though you were nonchalant, Dean was still suspicious. And a little smug. You’d been living at the bunker for a few years now, had known the Winchesters for even longer and stuck around since teaming up with them to stop the apocalypse seven years prior. Dean had appreciated you from the start; you were feisty, an excellent shot, and fun to be around, always full of snark and well-timed derision. Your sass put Sam’s to shame, and Dean found himself worrying about keeping up with you, rather the other way around. Most of all he liked how you genuinely cared for them both, providing the much-needed companionship and loyalty they’d been deprived of for far too long.

So with your fiery personality and looks to match, it didn’t take long for Dean to fall for you, and he mentally kicked himself in the head every day for it. It didn’t help that, judging by the way you always found a reason to touch or cuddle up close to him, his feelings might be reciprocated. There was no room for relationships in the hunting business—not from what he’d previously seen, anyway—but even Sam saw how much Dean cared for you and you for him. The younger Winchester had taken up the role of love guru and was currently encouraging him to take the next step, make it official. Dean liked the idea of having that with you, but he’d held off, too scared of getting too close and losing you, just like everyone else. Now, he was worried that you might have lost interest over time, or that Sam was going to come to his senses, realize your appeal, and make a move before Dean could. Maybe that was why Dean felt mildly stung whenever it was Sam’s shirt you decided to wear, and why Dean felt a swell of pride whenever you did choose to steal Dean’s clothes instead. It was like each time you wore his clothes on your back, you were unofficially proclaiming that he was yours, and you were his.

So Dean made the decision to ask you about it, to at least figure out why you had started pilfering only his clothes. He went down to the kitchen Monday night and found you crouching on the floor, rummaging through the lower shelves of the fridge. You were wearing his navy Henley over flannel pajama pants, and there was that smug swell of pride again. He grinned, crossing his arms and (selfishly) watching you for a few moments, definitely not checking out the way your ass looked in those pants or the strip of bare skin just above your waistband where his Henley had ridden up.

“Any luck down there?” he asked.

You cast a glance over your shoulder at him and smiled before returning to your task. “Just looking for the peanut butter, s’all. I feel like we should start organizing this better. I keep losing my spreads.”

“Maybe we can get you your own little spread section.” Dean watched you tug the shirt down your back, effectively covering you. Damn.

“Would be nice, but I don’t think I deserve a whole section to myself,” you replied. “A-ha!” you crowed with delight, reaching far into the fridge and procuring the peanut butter jar. “God bless.” You straightened to your full height and shut the door, cradling the jar to your chest. “Want some?” you called over your shoulder, moving to the counter where you had laid out some toasted bread and sliced bananas.

Dean couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose as he stepped over to you and leaned against the fridge to watch you prepare your meal. “When have I ever eaten fruit?” You opened your mouth to protest and he cut you off, “When it’s not filling a warm crust.”

You clamped your mouth shut. “You got me there. I think you’d like this, though.”

“I’ll have a bite of yours, then,” Dean relented. You smiled, and he stood up straight, moving closer to you. “You know, sweetheart, I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit of a thief lately.”

“Oh, yeah? And what have I stolen now?”

Dean was so close his hip was almost brushing yours. He braced one hand on the counter as he watched you. “My clothes. Sam’s, too, but mostly mine. You wanna tell me why that is?” He was playing it cool, but truth be told, when you paused in your meal preparation and turned to face him, he was starting to lose his confidence.

Your smile had vanished. You were worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, and Dean didn’t miss the way your eyes traversed his frame, lingering at his neckline, his jaw, and finally his face. “Does it bother you?” you asked with legitimate concern in your eyes. He watched that concern morph into something warm and oozy, like molten flame. He was starting to burn up just looking at you. “I’ll stop if it does, but your clothes are real comfy, Dean. And they smell good, too.”

Dean swallowed hard. You were challenging him, daring him to make the first move. Fuck it. He reached out to your side and grasped the Henley where it fell against your waist, pinching the material and rubbing it between his fingers. The corner of your mouth twitched with the beginnings of a smirk. “Oh, I’m not mad. Not mad at all,” he replied. He stepped closer to you, so close he could detect the crisp apple scent of your conditioner, could see his own face reflecting in your eyes. He slid his hand down to your hip and your own hand traveled up his arm to grasp his bicep. “I mean, if you look so good in my clothes”—he licked his lips, shamelessly appraising you from head to toe—“I could just imagine how you’d look out of them.”

Dean felt you tremble under his touch, and you pressed closer against him, his hand moving to lie flat along the small of your back. You craned your neck forward, and your lips skimmed his ear as you spoke, “Why don’t we go up to my room and find out?”

A Drunk Mind Speaks a Sober Heart

*click through to read on ao3

written by: Meghan | @bellamyfrecklefaceblake

prompt: ‘one where Clarke and Bellamy post a fake engagement picture on social media, and it’s clearly a joke, but every is still super excited and congratulatory’ for anonymous

word count: 2170

They didn’t mean for everyone to think that they got engaged on what looked like a romantic getaway up in the snowy mountains. It was a joke. It was never supposed to be documented. There was vodka involved, and a hot tub. How were people taking it all so seriously?


They didn’t mean for it to happen.

They didn’t mean for everyone to think that they got engaged on what looked like a romantic getaway up in the snowy mountains.

It was a joke. It was never supposed to be documented. There was vodka involved, and a hot tub. How were people taking it all so seriously?

“It’s you and Bellamy,” Raven tells her again, but Clarke just rolls her eyes. She and Bellamy are not a thing. They are friends.

“My mom won’t stop calling me,” she whines and Raven laughs. She’s enjoying this way too much. “There were, like, 75 comments on that Facebook post before it got deleted.”

“People love romance, Clarke,” Jasper says wistfully. Clarke throws a pillow at him. This is all his fault, after all.

“If Bellamy had Facebook, he’d be killing you right now,” she reminds him and his face goes pale. “You’re lucky he’s been sleeping since we got back and hasn’t checked his messages. But just you wait.”

“I’m not the one who got down on one knee with Octavia’s engagement ring and pretended to propose to you!”

“No, but you are the one who took a picture of it and then proceeded to post it on Facebook with no caption, leading people to think that it was a real proposal,” Clarke yells at him and he flinches, making Raven laugh again.

“You broke the one rule of the weekend,” she tells him. “No phones.”

“I don’t know how you all did it for three days!” he says, falling clumsily onto the couch next to Clarke. She kicks him because she can and because she enjoys his yelps of pain.

“It was three days, Jasper. Three days without a phone and social media. We were drinking and hanging out in hot tubs. We played video games and board games and ate too much. We went tubing. We were so busy,” Clarke reminds him. “And on the last night, you caved. You caved and took a picture of an innocent joke and now our whole world thinks that Bellamy and I are engaged.”

Before Jasper can respond, his phone rings on the coffee table and Clarke’s stomach drops. Bellamy is calling him and as soon as it stops ringing, he calls right back.

“You should just answer it,” Raven offers, but Jasper just keeps staring at the screen. “He’ll find you eventually and he’ll be even angrier.”

Clarke knows she’s right. Hell, Jasper probably knows it, too, but he shuts the phone off between calls and tucks it into his pocket before leaving the apartment without another word.

“Bellamy’s going to murder him,” Clarke sighs. She does feel bad for the kid. He was just as drunk as Bellamy and Clarke. He didn’t know the picture would cause this kind of reaction.

“Where is he?” Bellamy bellows as he walks into Clarke and Raven’s apartment without knocking. “I saw his car on the street, so I know he’s here.”

“Who called you?” Raven asks him and he throws her an unimpressed glare.

“Oh, you know, just my ex-girlfriend, my boss, my-“

“He’s gone,” Clarke interrupts him and he turns his attention to her. “He probably saw you from the hallway window and went down the back staircase. Go easy on him, he’s a weakling.”

“How are you so calm about this?” he demands and she shrugs. “Gina said that there are something like two hundred likes on that picture and almost one hundred comments. I didn’t think that many people knew who we were.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke tells him honestly and his face softens a little. “I practically forced you to come on that trip and then… This happened.”

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You Jealous? - Newt x reader Oneshot

Fandom: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Warning: None, a little fluffy
Pairing: Newt x reader, slightly Mr. Graves x reader
Summary: Mr. Graves flirts with reader and Newt gets jealous and accidently confesses that he loves reader.

Requested

A/N: My first Fantastic beasts one shot, I hope you’ll enjoy it. :D This one was so much fun writing.

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Originally posted by imagine-everything41

Title: I Will Wait

Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Reader
Trigger Warnings: None
Requested by Anon: Hello gorgeous ! Could you do a Draco Malfoy one shot ? Where he is really broken and sad about never having to decide anything about his life because of his parents. But he fall in love with you and everything changes. Super fluffy please, thanks :) 

A/N: Omg thank you so much for the request, sweetie! Hope you like it!


You didn’t know what it was about him that made you stare. Maybe it was his neat blonde hair or his blue eyes. But something about him was definitely tragically beautiful. 

He hadn’t been smiling lately; not even finding enjoyment in tormenting Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He just didn’t seem like himself. 

So despite the arguments from your friends, you thought you should speak to him during your free time before your potions class. He sat alone on a bench in the courtyard and looking albeit sorrowful. 

Quietly, you sat down next to him and crossed your legs over each other before clearing your throat. His eyes shot up to you in surprise and as a reflex, he furrowed his eyebrows and slid himself a bit further from you. 

“L/N,” he spat, eyeing you up and down with those blue eyes you had once admired. “Is there something I can help you with?”

You weren’t deterred by his harsh tone. Instead, you found that it spurred you on even more. “No, no, not really, Draco,” you said, waving it off dismissively. “I just thought maybe you might need some company. You looked upset.”

Draco’s cheeks turned a bit red, but he continued to speak otherwise. “I’m fine,” he murmured. “I don’t see why it concerns you.”

“I guess you’re right,” you said, bracing your hands on your knees and standing up. “But don’t think I won’t come by again. I don’t give up without a fight.”

“Yeah, right,” he said, this time waving you off dismissively. He watched as you waltzed back to your friends, who were eyeing you incredulously, but it wasn’t like it mattered to you; it was your decision to confront Draco and it was your decision to continue to. After all, it was your life. 


This continued on for days. The next day, you had gone up to him and noticed that he didn’t seem to move, but his tone seemed harsher. 

“What is it this time, L/N?” he muttered, this time not even sparing a glance at you.

“I think you know what I’m here for,” you told him, stuffing her hands into your robe for warmth. “Though, I’m very doubtful you’ll open up to me just yet. I’m a very patient person, I’ll have you know. So if it takes me until the last day of my life to get you to open up to me, then, I will gladly do it.”

“Are you insane? Speaking of death when you barely even know me?” he criticized. “I would have thought you more competent than that.”

“Call me what you will,” you said, standing up once again and taking one last look at him behind your back, “but I have never been one to back down from a battle.”

He furrowed his eyebrows this time as he watched you.


On the fifth day, he was starting to get used to you. He had been pushing you away and trying to maintain a harsher tone each time you came, but you never backed down as you had told him. 

At this point, you could basically sit next to him with your shoulders brushing and he wouldn’t even give you a grimace. 

Thus, you rested your back against the bench and sat shoulder to shoulder with him. He had his one leg resting over the other while your leg was crossed over your other one. 

“So? Ready to speak to me yet?” you asked. You both watched as the footsteps of your peers made indents in the melting snow. 

Draco shook his head. “Not really,” he said, softly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

The past few days, even though he had brought upon harsher tones each time, you could see that his face was slowly aging and that he was breaking down his walls just for you. 

On impulse, you took his hand in your gloved ones and squeezed it. “It’s fine,” you whispered, “I really just want to know if you’re okay.”

A sigh escaped his lips and in anguish, his eyebrows crumpled. “I’m not,” he muttered, “but thank you.”


By the seventh day, you had already started with holding his hand and rubbing circles into the back of it. He hadn’t been ready to talk, but you knew he was warming up to you.

Eventually, two days after, he cracked. 

Before you had even gotten to the bench, he ran toward you and grabbed your wrist before whisking you off. It seemed like forever, but he had taken you to an abandoned corridor and pulled you toward him as he sunk to the ground. 

His body shook, but no tears or sobs racked through him. The two of you sat in silence, his arms wound around your shoulders and your hand placed delicately over one of his hands. You rubbed circles into it the way you always did and looked up to see that he had visibly relaxed.

“I haven’t been okay,” he finally admitted, “and I just…never knew why. Then, you came along and you started to force me into telling you what I felt.” He pulled away and held your hands gingerly in his. “There are things I can’t tell you, but if I could, I would in a heartbeat. I hope you understand, but I won’t have to worry because I know you do. Just like always.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “My life had been predestined for me from the minute I was conceived. Every move I made was calculated and I thought that I could handle it, but I can’t. I have never made a decision on my own. I have never been my own person.

“Then, you came along and stuck your nose into my business uninvited and I hated it at first. You were like a curse that never ended. But every day you told me you would continue to pester me. Every day you told me that you would wait. And that one day where you didn’t force me to tell you how I felt…

“I knew.” Draco stopped speaking and looked into your eyes. 

Did his eyes somehow gain more sparkles?

“Knew what?” you asked, rendered speechless by the sudden slew of words.

“I knew that you weren’t like them. You let me make the decision. You let me put myself first. You let me choose when I felt right to speak,” he said, “and that’s more impressive than anything I have ever seen in my life.”

You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing in his minty scent.

“I would do this all over again if it meant you would end up feeling better,” you whispered.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to.” He pulled away and looked you right in the eyes once again. “Because right here, I want to tell you that I have fallen for you. I wouldn’t call it love just yet, but I would call it something very special. After the third day you came, I knew I could just go somewhere else so you wouldn’t bother me, but I wanted to see you again.” He then offered you a small smile as he said, “Now, I want to see you every day of my life, as my girlfriend.”

You smiled widely and nodded your head fervently. “Yes. I would love that.”


A/N: I actually liked writing this! Sorry for any mistakes! Hope you liked it!