or any day that ends in y

Whipped Cream (Jungkook smut)

Originally posted by nnochu


Description: Jungkook is your roommate. Among other things, his habit for baking shirtless made it… ‘difficult’ to live with him.

Themes: Smut, baker, collage, roommate au

This fic contains: Smut, adult content, food play, arguing, drinking, mentions of threesomes, swearing

Characters: Jungkook x You, Yoongi, Jimin, Hoseok and Taehyung

words: 7.5k

For this fic I used inspirations of food play and the roommate au from two anons <3

A/N: I refused to come back from my hiatus until I had something for my lovely and patient followers <3 (also, I was keen to come back so i’ll edit this and fix mistakes later)

@chanyeolingss, @jn-jngkk, @sugaspen <3


It wasn’t necessarily the pile of dishes or the trail of clothes that seemed to almost constantly hover around Jungkook like he was some annoying ass Avatar or something that got you so mad. It wasn’t the thick fragrance of his cologne or body wash that drifted through the open plan of your shared apartment every morning, or the smell of his musky sweat when he returned home from his evening jog, or from when he emerges from his room- having clearly just having a ‘fucking mind blowing’ wank. It wasn’t the soft melodies, or exciting electronic beats that flooded from his open window and into yours, nor his big and copious amounts of jackets and coats that made it nearly impossible to get your own fucking clothes from the rack next to the front door. Your frequent burning irritation had nothing to do with his presence, with the evidence of his existence in your apartment and life; it was with the man behind it all. It was with him. With fucking Jeon Jungkook. Ok, and maybe it was also for his fucking annoying baking habits. Did he really need to bring that shit home? Didn’t he get sick of it at work?

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Skyline {VII}

Originally posted by tom-cinnamonroll-holland

Warnings: Language, panic attack

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: Guys!!!! This is the last part of Skyline.  Like, for real this time.  I’m so sad to see it end, but I’m also so happy that it’s had such success, and I can’t thank you guys enough for that.  You are all so so wonderful, and you have all my love.  As usual, I want to give a shout out to Zoe and Jen for reading my drafts and helping me edit and brainstorm, as well as encouraging me to write.  As for all of you, I hope you’ll forgive me for all the angst that I’ve hit you guys with (remember when Skyline was self-indulgent fluff lmao), and I really hope this makes up for it a bit.  In other news, tonight is the Spidereyhes Sleepover!!!!!!!!  All the info on the sleepover can be found here, as well as info about the livestream, which will start at 7pm PST.  I’ll post the link on here!! Zoe, Jen, and I will be discussing all kinds of things, answering questions, and talking about Skyline, so be sure to drop by!!! Also, if you have any questions about Skyline or anything else that you want answered, send it in!!!! It’s not too late yall.  Again, thank you so much, and I hope you’ve enjoyed Skyline as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.

skyline: a mixtape

{masterlist}

{part i} {part ii} {part iii} {part iv} {part v}

Sitting up in your bed, you stared at the window, not sure of how to react to seeing Spider-Man’s masked face through the glass.  Throwing back your covers, you quietly walked over to the window, grabbing a hoodie that Peter had lent you as you passed your desk.  Sliding the glass panel up, you climbed out onto the metal fire escape, slipping on and zipping up Peter’s hoodie to protect you from the cold.

The superhero stood where he had first stood, the night he saved your life and blew up Vizzini’s all those months ago.  And there, to his right, were the flower pots that he had tripped over the first time he came back for you.  Those stairs were where you would sit and draw while he watched your fingers fly across the page, amazed at the pictures you created.  Behind him was the railing that you would lean against as you looked at the Queens skyline together.  This fire escape was your entire relationship condensed, the one location where you were allowed to be with each other.  If you used your imagination, you could almost see every single night playing out in front of your eyes.  Spider-Man, with a bendy straw underneath his mask.  Spider-Man, attempting to draw you in the moonlight.  Spider-Man, his hand on your waist and the other in your hair. Spider-Man.

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4

“The answer is yes,” Sam interjected from beside his glowering brother. “He’s had a ring for months.”

“Come on, man–”

“You have a ring?” Jody interrupted, sitting forward and smiling wide now. “What, do you just carry it around with you all the time? That’s adorable.”

“What? No! I don’t carry it–no,” Dean said, turning his frown on Sam who was nodding at Jody.

“Empty your pockets for us then, Dean,” Jody grinned. Dean stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans and shaking his head.

“You two are ridiculous. I’m not scared to propose to Y/N; we’ve been together forever. I’m just–I’m waiting for the right moment.”

“Sure. World could be ending any day the way things are going, I can see why you’d want to take your time,” Jody said. Dean stared at her a moment before reaching to grab a few more pieces of pizza.

“These are for Y/N. I’m done having this conversation with you,” he announced as he turned to walk away.

“Might still be asleep!” Jody called after him. 

“Don’t care,” Dean called back. Jody waited for the bedroom door down the hall to open gently and shut again before she looked to Sam, eyebrows raised over a smile.

“He’s in deep,” she said, and Sam just laughed.

[edited from x]

Imagine Jody Teasingly Asking Dean If He’s Ever Going to Propose to You, and Actually Getting an Answer

More imagines!

More Dean!

BTS Scenario | Kinks

A/N: Hi guys! It’s Admin Sunshine, thank you for supporting me. I’ll be re-posting my reactions & scenarios on my blog.

PS: All of my reactions/scenarios and fictions will be fixed and there will be new things added in.

Not requested.


Warnings: Smut


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Bombshell

An anon asked for a Reid fic where the reader is British and he gets turned on by her accent.  The team teases him for it and he eventually has to explain to the reader why he gets so weird whenever she talks.  I love this request, I really hope you like it!  Added in here a classic Spencer Reid Quote, shout out to anyone who can find it!

It gets smutty!  Some fluff ensues at the end, it’s super cute!

UnBeta’d so sorry for any errors, also flood warning!

Originally posted by toyboxboy

“As soon as Agent Y/L/N gets here, we are going to start the briefing,” Hotch said to the team, who were all still sitting around at their desks before disappearing into his office.

“Ready for the new team member, pretty boy?” Derek teased from his seat with a smirk.

“What?” Spencer asked nonchalantly.  He knew Y/N was British.  She’d been in for numerous interviews and when she was in the training field, all the other trainees were talking about the ‘British Bombshell’ that was joining the BAU team.  

“You know what,” Derek replied.

“Does Reid have a thing for accents?” Prentiss asked.  She looked at the genius with playful eyes.

“No, he has a thing for British accents,” JJ said, shaking her head.

“I see,” Emily said with a smirk similar to Derek’s.

“I don’t know if I like the looks on your faces,” Rossi said as he walked up.  After inspecting the teasing smiles of the three agents, he clocked the blush on Reid’s face.  “What’s wrong with you, coffee catching up to you this morning?”

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epiphany | jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook + Reader 

Genre: Fluff + college au 

Word Count: 3.6k 

Part: | 1 | 2 |  

Summary: You hated his guts, especially after he ruined your chance at getting a good grade in one of your toughest classes. But why did your heart beat a little faster every time you saw him? And why did he feel the same way?

Reader’s POV

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to give you a failing grade, Y/N…” Mr.Ransford frowned,“ You should’ve saved your work somewhere separately you know?”

You gaped at him in complete shock, as everything came crashing down on you.

“B-but you don’t understand! It wasn’t my fault-” you stammered, your hands flailing around in a frenzy as you attempted to explain your dire situation to your psychology professor.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I’m afraid we can’t discuss this right now, I have a class in 2 minutes. We’ll talk later, hm?” he said as you sighed, your shoulders slumping in utter defeat.

He patted your shoulders in sympathy as you walked out of the door, tears welling up in your eyes as you thought of all your hard work that was now flushed down the drain. All because of one boy.

That damn Jeon Jungkook.

—-

“YAH!” you yelled, raging, as you approached the boys, a deadly glare in your eyes as you grabbed Jungkook by the collar of his tshirt. Pulling him up from the bleachers where him and the rest of his friends were sitting, all of them gasped, mouths going agape as they witnessed their golden maknae get manhandled by you.

“Y/N~What a pleasure,” Jungkook said, giving you a lazy smirk.

Your blood boiled at the audacity the boy had, to address you in such a way, after he had destroyed your chance at a good grade- heck a good year of college. Without thinking first, you lifted your hand and slapped him across the face, the contact shooting vibrations of pain down your arm as the noise echoed in the air. Immediate silence followed, everyone looking at the two of you with rounded eyes as Jungkook himself, was in shock.

You stood there, your chest rising up and down, breathing heavy as you glowered at him. His hands flew to his cheek as he let out a stream of curse words, his gaze landing on yours, fire kindling in his eyes as he reddened in embarrassment.

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Body Language (One Shot)

A/N: This was a request from @ihavetwobuckystomyname a very long time ago, and I’m super sorry that this took so long to write, hun! I hope you enjoy it! There’s a song that goes to this as well and it’s right here if you wanna listen!

Body Language - Reader and Bucky have been in a relationship for a while, and she’s ready to take the relationship to the next level. But Reader has a small problem: she’s deaf. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Deaf Reader 

Warnings: Smut. Language. Slight mentions of past neglect. Bucky being adorable. NSFW!

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Sirius x Reader: Potter Plans

Warnings: no ?

Requested: Yes

A/N: I’M BAAAACK!! It’s the 2 month anniversary of this account and we’re a squad of 523… a number I never thought I’d reach let alone reach in 2 months so thank you my lovelies xx I thought I’d greet this 2 month hiatus return with a hella long imagine x so enjoy reading and send me imagine requests (i’m only answering ships every thurs) xx

“Sirius wins.” You announced, standing up from your leaning position on the wall.

“No way!” James protested, panting.

“I have an unfair advantage. You see these cheekbones? Aerodynamically suited for speed.” Sirius said, somehow he said it seriously. ‘Well those cheekbones are sharp’, you found yourself thinking.

You rolled your eyes and started walking around the sofa, spotting Lily as you did so. “Hey Lils.” You smiled.

“Hey, oh sit, I want to ask you something.”

You winked at James who was practically drooling over Lily and sat down. Eventually, you’d satisfactorily answered her question and you were free to go.

“How do you do it?” James asked immediately as you sat down.

“Well, you see, I bend my knees and let gravity pull me to my seat. It’s-”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

Remus had started sniggering at his friend’s stupidity. James shot Remus a threatening glare, stopping him immediately and went back to his book.

You giggled slightly and continued chatting, “Just talk to her like she’s a normal person.”

“I’ve been trying!” He groaned. In all the years you had known James, you’d never seen him act like this about a girl- ‘if only Sirius felt like this about me’ you thought.

Sirius came back from his shower shortly after, shooing Remus further over the sofa so he could sit in his favourite spot that, coincidentally, was next to you.

At around 11, you finally felt your eyes grow heavy and flutter shut, falling asleep next to Sirius.

Sirius admired you as you slept, unaware of his surroundings, he loved everything about you and you just seemed more beautiful lit by the fire: your eyelashes cast soft shadows over your cheekbones, your lips were slightly parted and your brows slightly furrowed.

And James watched as his best friend admired another, both so painfully obviously in love yet so blind to it.

You stirred slightly, breaking both boys reverie, Sirius shot up and announced he was going to bed. You waved him good night sleepily and was about to go to bed yourself when James pounced a question on you.

“Does Lily like me?”

“You know she does you twat. She just doesn’t want to give in, she has no reason to, you’re always available to her.”

James looked as though he was going to defend himself but thought better of it.

A familiar look spread across his tanned face and you straightened up, “Potter, I know that look, stop, no.”

“You like Sirius.” you spluttered from shock but James merely continued, “I like Lily. They like us back. We need to make them jealous.”

“Fuck off.” You whinged, not in the mood for a ‘Potter Plan’ as you and Eudaimonia called them.

“Nah, hear me out. We pretend to date, they get jealous and boom, love is in the air.” James looked at you triumphantly, the look not faltering when you glared back.

“Ew, gross, no. You’re like my brother.”

“Calm down, it’s not like I’d ever date you.”

“Doing great, dear.”

“You know what I mean.”

You paused, pondering the idea, and took a deep breath, “Until Friday.”

“Won’t take longer than 2 days.”

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Always (MET with FemReader) fluff

Originally posted by houseplantneglect

(( gif not mine - it’s cute dang ))

(A/n): I love youtuber requests. And I love platonic requests. I just like writing.

Request: I know you get a lot of youtube asks and you don’t have to do this but could you write about the reader is friends with mark, ethan, and tyler and like they’re walking around LA for whatever reason and some dude walks by and touches her butt and like Tyler becomes protective and ethan is calm but like stern and mark is mad but he’s calm and then like the three kinda scare the guy off and she thanks them then they go out for ice cream happy times. Sorry, and i also love your writing! Bye bye!

Warnings: Swearing and fluff tho

_____

“Guys, I swear, if we don’t go somewhere soon; I’m going to flip my shit.” (Y/n) moaned.

The three other men chuckled from around her.

“Aren’t you enjoying L.A, though?” Tyler taunted, flicking the side of the girls head lightly. She groaned even more.

“I am!” (Y/n) was quick to protest “It’s just so fucking hot!”

“It’s supposed to be,” Ethan chimed in, slipping his eyes across the multitude of shop signs “Don’t be such a baby, (Y/n).”

The (h/c) haired girl only huffed in return to Ethan’s comment. She continued trailing behind the three boy’s without another word; letting her gaze collapse to the ground.

“Are you going to pout now?” Mark laughed. He spun to strut backwards instead, opting to get a better view of the girl’s expression.

“Yes…” (Y/n) mumbled.

“Well buck up soldier.” Mark beamed “We’ll go get ice cream, yeah?”

Peering through her veil of hair, (Y/n)’s eyes flickered up to stare at Mark “Can we?” she pondered in mock innocence.

“Ice cream is my sexuality.” Tyler stated, nothing but seriousness laced his words.

“Ice cream it is then!”

The four friends laughed heartily.

The day went on and the group entered and passed many street side shops. This Friday was slightly busier than any other comparatively, but it was such a beautiful day out; no one could be blamed.

“If I’m not wrong,” (Y/n) spoke “and my woman’s intuition hasn’t yet failed me, the ice cream shop is literally around that corner.”

She rose a hand to point at the corner towards the end on the walkway.

“Well if my woman’s intuition is correct, I’d say that’s bullshit.” Mark scoffed.

“It’s past that corner.” he gestured to the turn on the opposite walkway across the road.

(Y/n) hashed a hard stare at Mark. He returned it full force. Bickering ensued.

“Ah gee…” Ethan chuckled and shook his head. Tyler simply laughed, the two of them standing on the side letting the other two do their thing.

As the pair shot back and forther, people passed them in a docile haze. Though, sooner or later, one man in particular caught Tyler’s weary eye.

“He looks like a hazard..” the brunette whispered to Ethan. The blue haired boy looked up from Mark and (Y/n) and tilted his head, confused.

As Ethan’s bright eye’s raked the crowd, a man singled himself out to approach (Y/n). Both Ethan and Tyler locked eyes with him for a brief moment each before the man stepped up and slapped the youtuber’s ass.

“Nhg-!” (Y/n) jumping suddenly, her head shooting back.

The unknown man snicked grossly and commented “Sweet ass.”

“Excuse me?”

The short lived triumph of the harasser shattered when Tyler spoke. The brunette stepped up to the man and looked down at him.

“Who the hell are you?” The man spat cockily, smirk manipulating his lips. He looked Tyler in the eye’s, his own stare conveying intense pride.

“In about three second, your executioner.” Tyler hissed. His voice was similar to dry ice in a multitude of ways.

Ethan grabbed (Y/n)’s shoulder and sweetly stepped in front of her. He stood unwavering by Tyler’s side; face looking beyond pissed.

Mark too held an expression of appalled disgust. Reaching one tanned hand up, the red haired man gripped Tyler’s bicep as though to tell him not to attack anyone. Mark spoke with oily sweetness:

“I heartfully suggest you don’t touch her again until you decide whether you want your arm seared or arteries punctured with knitting needles. Hm?” the deepness of his voice rang out.

The man looked as though his ego had been popped similar to a balloon in front his face. Sudden fright painting his expression with a lovely white.

“So fuck off, verman!” Ethan quickly barked.

“D-Dicks!” the man coughed, and hastily darted across the street. At least he looked both ways before moving.

“Disappointing..” Tyler huffed “what a prick.”

“I agree. Really, really fucking pissed me off.” Ethan sighed. He and Mark slowly turned to (Y/n).

“You okay?” Mark asked. He was bluntly worried.

“Of course! Yes, thank you so much!” She laughed.

(Y/n) forced the two men into a hug, smiling brightly “That made my day, I swear.” she said.

Mark and Ethan both giggled and squeezed her back before she let go to hug Tyler.

“And thank you too.” (Y/n) mumbled into the tall man’s chest.

Tyler calmly smiled down at the girl and patted her head jokingly “Don’t mention it, pipsqueak”

The small youtuber let Tyler go and peered at the three boys at once.

“So,” she grinned “Ice cream?”

_____

(A/n): I almost don’t really like it but it’s cute though???

Fanclub

Pairing: Scott x Reader

Request:

Could you do one for Scott? Maybe about him and the reader fangirling over Captain and then they just casually decide to go out or something?


Scott has created a chatroom.

Scott has invited Y/N.

Scott: I HAVE BEEN BLESSED.

Scott: Cap invited me to train with him. You jelly?

Y/N: He invited me to train with him too! You’re not so special, Lang.

Scott: WE’RE GOING TO TAKE SO MANY PICTURES OF HIM!

Y/N: Scott. That’s a bit creepy, don’t you think?

Scott: Oh. I… I didn’t think so, but now that you mention it…

Y/N: I’m going to have to let Steve know.

Scott: Wait, Y/N, no, please!

Y/N: He’s not going to approve.

Scott: ANYTHING BUT HIS DISAPPROVAL!

Y/N: I’m messing with you, lol.

Scott: I was shaking!

Y/N: OMG THE OTHER DAY HE TOLD ME… “HELLO, Y/N.” HE USED MY FIRST NAAAAAAME.

Scott: PFFFT THAT’S NOTHING, YESTERDAY HE HELD THE DOOR OPEN FOR ME.

Y/N: We’re so getting kicked off the team if he finds out about our lil club.

Scott: Like that would stop us from stanning him.

Scott: you when you see Cap

Scott:

Y/N: A rare pic of me trying to stop you from doing something stupid when Steve acknowledges your presence.

Y/N:

Phil has joined the chat.

Phil: Hello, amateurs.

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“You’re Giving Up On Us?”

A/N: hi, everyone! sorry i haven’t uploaded in a while. school has been keeping me more than busy lately! 

warnings: this is angsty (i think) ??

requested: @pxrrishly

thank you for requesting! i hope you enjoy it x

word count: 2,474

Originally posted by 2tiedships2

Y/N knew what she was getting into when she first started dating Harry. She knew that his job would often take him away from her, whether it was because he had to go on tour or due to late hours at the studio. She could take that. I mean, both Y/N and Harry were doing a pretty good job so far. A long distance-relationship wasn’t going to fail them, now. Right?

Harry had been on tour with the boys countless times before and it never really got in their way. But all because they compromised. 

Compromise.

Had it depended on the occurrence in which both of them would sacrifice bits and bits of their days now, Y/N would’ve forgotten what the word means long ago.

At late hours like these, in the dead of night, when she’s lying wide awake in bed, are the best timing for her thoughts to creep in, and as much as she doesn’t want them roaming around her head, they already settled a home up in there.

She reminisces the times when they’d both stay awake longer than usual — or wake up earlier than supposed to — just so they could talk and see each other as much as possible through video-calls. She reminisces the times when she hadn’t a worry in the world about where their relationship was leading to. She reminisces the times when it still felt like he was putting effort into communicating and contacting her while he was away, just as much as she was. But most importantly, she reminisces the times when she still felt like he was there with her, no matter how far he actually was.

But now that Y/N looks back at how it used to be and where they are now, she can’t help but feel as though someone just ripped her heart open and out of her chest.

The frequent and recurrent calls and texts here and there during her day began to become scarce when compared to the early days in their relationship. Texts that were always replied to, once he had the chance to write back a quick response, turned into hers always being the last sent and with the ‘Read’ tag underneath. What once was a continual exchange of ‘i love you’s barely happened anymore. Perhaps because they forgot or simply didn’t have the time to do so.

And eventually, he almost completely stopped trying to reach out to her. And when he did, it’d often be just a text telling her how busy he was and how he wouldn’t be able to talk to her later on in the day. He was tired. And so was she. For different reasons, of course. Clearly, he wasn’t aware of how much this whole situation was taking a toll on her.

However, it wasn’t as severe as it sounds. It’s not as if he completely forgot about her existence. He loved her too. He really did. But the pressure and hard-work mixed together wasn’t exactly the best combination, sometimes — specially at times like these. Harry knew this wasn’t an excuse because as much as people claim to be too busy or too tired for something — or someone —, they can always make time for them if the effort is really there. He’d talk to her whenever he found the chance to but, somehow, it just wasn’t enough.

For instance, she never cared about how tired she felt. As much as she needed to practically hibernate due to all the pressure and stress her work was putting her through, she’d always wait up for him to call her, just so they could see each other’s faces and share even if just a few words. She waited. She was trying. And as much as she wished to admit Harry was trying too, the only response she got from him were simple and very direct texts explaining how he wouldn’t be able to FaceTime her tonight.

Y/N missed him. And she couldn’t shake off the feeling that he had given up on them. For what other reasons would he practically stop trying altogether?

Harry had been on tour for almost a year now and she felt like she couldn’t take it anymore.

Y/N loved him. She really did. But how was she supposed to carry on with their relationship if the effort he once put into it was long gone? Sure, they’d still Skype each other occasionally, but the distance —both physical and emotional— was too much for her.

Video-calls that used to last around 2 hours — all because the two of them wished to cherish as much as they could whenever they had the chance to see the other — turned into 15-minute chats. Comfortable silences that was once part of their relationship turned into nerve-wrecking silences for her — the thoughts and ways of how she’d break the silence were all her mind surrounded with. And with vague words exchanged here and there, they’d quickly end the call and retreat themselves back to bed.

Y/N was never one to demand the presence and affection of her boyfriend every living minute of their day, but she needed something back from him. She couldn’t be the only one trying and willing to make things work. She just wanted to feel him close whenever she had the chance.

The tension between the two of them was undeniable. And as much as Y/N tried to understand what had changed so abruptly, she couldn’t find any answers. They had just become… distant. It’s not as if they had been arguing or fighting lately, or having silly disagreements. It wasn’t any of that. And she wasn’t sure what it was, but the fact that things just suddenly and unexpectedly changed without a proper reason or cause, made this situation even sadder for her.

For some odd reason, the freedom she once felt to share everything with him was now almost non-existent. Y/N knew she could but she didn’t know how to. And that’s how she figured he felt too. Harry eventually caught up onto her change of demeanour towards him and even though he was apprehensive to ask her if she was okay, he still did, gladly. (Un)fortunately — he really couldn’t tell —, she always replied with the same words, telling him that ‘yeah, just stressed with work s’all’, or ‘I’m okay, why wouldn’t I be?’, and brush it off with a small laugh. They never sounded honest for him though, and he never pressed on those answers because if something was wrong, she’d let him now… Right?

Harry didn’t want it to be true but he thought that he knew the answer to the ‘why wouldn’t I be okay?’ Y/N always pulled on him. He was well aware that they were distant and even awkward around each other at this point and he absolutely hated it. Harry knew she was not okay and he had a feeling that it was partly his fault. But he couldn’t know if she didn’t talk to him. Was he supposed to just brush it off or second-guess each time she said it?

It was bound to happen that her walls would cave down on her eventually—she just hoped it would have taken longer than this.

“Hello, love”, Harry greeted as soon as she answered his Skype call. She looked exhausted.

“Hey”, Y/N returned simply, not making direct eye-contact with him.

“Everything okay? You okay, love?”, he tentatively asked her, hoping for a real answer this time.

“’course I am. Why wouldn’t I b-”, she was immediately cut off.

“Love-”, he sighed. “Y/N… C’mon, talk to me. What’s in your mind? You don’t seem okay”. Harry was hopeful she’d give him something this time. After all, hope was all he had left.

“Harry- I don’-”, she let out a huff. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

“But you know it’s not healthy to bottle up emotions, love. I’m here for you, you know that, don’t you?”

“No. Harry. I don't”, Y/N snapped.

“What? I’m always here for you-”

“Now, is that true, Harry?!”, she cut him off. She couldn’t keep her facade up for much longer. “You barely call or text me anymore! And I get to see you, what?! Once a week through a computer screen?! You don’t even put effort into us anymore! How would I be okay knowing you’re giving up on this relationship?! Tell me!”, Y/N was agitated to the extreme right now; her voice was loud and her cheeks were flushing up a bit—something that happened when she felt uneasy. She just wanted him to understand her side of the story. He might’ve been oblivious to it but she needed him to understand.

“Hey, hey, hey, now! Don’ put all the blame on me! You know damn well that I’m tired too! Sorry if I can’t exactly be right there at this moment to kiss your feet, princess! You know how my job works!”, Harry shot back. He might’ve felt bad and guilty when she started talking but after she accused him of such things, he wasn’t going to have it.

“You’re not denying it. God, I’m so stupid…”. Having a bad thought is something, but having someone somewhat confirm it goes to a whole new level. Harry wasn’t denying it. He was, indeed, giving up on them. Y/N’s mind was racing as she received what she thought was her reality-check.

“Y/N…”, he was strangely calm this time. Something was definitely up.

“Oh, so now you’ve got something to say?!”, she spat at him once again and if he was just previously coming down to his senses again, he wasn’t anymore. Her attitude was getting straight to his nerves.

“You know what? Just go straight to the point, yeah? I know what you’re doing here. Might as well just rush things up, no? I got better things to do…”

“Wow, Harry. Wow, really?! You don’t think that discussing this relationship is important?”, Y/N incredulously asked him, not waiting for a response.

“I didn’t say tha-”

“Well, you didn’t have to. I might just do you a favor and rush things up for you, yeah?!”, she huffed, mocking his previous words. “I can’t do this with you anymore. Clearly, you don’t give a shit about this so I might as well just end it, yeah?”. Y/N’s voice was slightly shaky but she managed to cover it up with a cough. She wasn’t sure if she had exploded way too suddenly and quickly in the course of their conversation but this was the least of her problems right now. She was literally breaking up with him.

“So you’re breaking up with me?!”. It was Harry’s turn to be stunned now. “You said I was the one giving up on us, but look at you now! Are we really not worth the fight for you?!”

“Oh, don’t put this all on me, Harry! You know damn right you gave up on us long ago! I’m just doing us both a favor ending this vicious cycle we’re in!” Y/N yelled, following with a sniffle and a sudden change in the room. It was quiet. None of them dared to say anything else at this moment. She had tears pricking at her eyes, begging to run free across her cheeks — but she wasn’t going to allow them. At least not now.

Vicious cycle? Is that really what you think this is- is that really what you thing we are? This could be nothing but a rough patch for all we know and you’re literally just throwing it all away?!”, Harry couldn’t believe the words he just came in contact with. How dare she say that?

“You know what?! I’m done arguing. Goodbye, Harry. I hope you have a great life!”

And just like that, Y/N ended the call and as much as Harry tried to be fast enough to stop her, his screen went blank and she was gone.

Right after she shut her laptop close, she broke into sobs. Did she make the right choice? Was there any chance left for them?

It wasn’t exactly an easy breakup — if you could even call it that. Y/N was aware of the words exchanged just now but she didn’t really feel as though as they were broken up. I mean, it’s Harry we’re talking about here. They’ve been together for the past two years and their relationship literally ended through a video-call.

It just didn’t seem… real. None of them got any closure. She literally shut the argument close, leaving both herself and Harry as confused as they could be.

Y/N knew what she was bound to do the next few days: grieve their relationship. Saying she was happy throughout their journey together was at least minimizing it all down to one word. There was no way she could describe what their love and connection felt like.

Both of them said things they didn’t mean. But was it worth going back on her words and apolozing? The pain that was unintentionally inflicted on her due to the distance and lack of contact with Harry was enough to bring her mind right back to where it was, in the first place. But, isn’t small contact better than none?

She was so stunned by the episode that just occurred that she didn’t even think about how Harry was feeling right now. Was he happy? Relieved that they were done? Sad? Shaken up?

And that’s how her next few days were spent: with her battling against her mind to give her some peace and with questions practically swimming around her mind — questions to which she had no intentions to finding the answers to.

Whenever, Y/N finds herself in hard situations, like a breakup, for example, she likes to be alone. She simply felt utterly lost and helpless — even though there was nothing simple about these two emotions.

She had to face the fact that she was now on her own and figure out a way to overcome Harry and hers breakup. Y/N had never loved someone as much as she did him and moving on would be complicated and perhaps even challenging. Might as well try to start now already, no?

Her trace of thought was immediately interrupted by a loud knock at her door, making Y/N huff in annoyance and get up from her lying position on the couch.

As she was making her way to the door, the person she missed most spoke on the other side of it, making her halt every movement she had — including her breathing.

“Y/N, love, please open up?”

part 2? yes? no? let me know! x

thank you for reading x

Masterlist

Guys Like Him [prequel to You Who | 01] (ft. Jeongguk)

Drabble game prompt 42. “His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow.”
→ badboy!jk, jock!au, prequel (part 1) to You Who [M] 
→ 6k words, (fluff, mentions of sex, tiny bit angst) 

Y/N: Originally didn’t want to make another series about jk, but You Who got a 1000+ notes and I decided to upload this as a surprise :) Enjoy! Split it into two parts, but I’m finished with part 2 so it’ll be uploaded in less than 24 hrs! 


“Nice job boys, that was a really good practice, let’s keep it up! Go home and get some rest!” Coach Kim blows his whistle as the boys all scatter and cheer as their practice comes to an early end. Jimin catches up to Jeongguk and claps the younger boy on the back, “Nice job kiddo, you’re stepping up into the quarterback shoes pretty well.” 

Jeongguk laughs and punches Jimin back in his shoulder pads, earning a playful laugh from him, “Thanks hyung.” 

“What’re you doing Friday night? Seokjin’s frat is throwing a party soon and is inviting the entire cheerleading squad the night before the game. And I overheard Jisoo saying that all of them were gonna be going. Wanna come?” 

Jeongguk smiles, shaking his head. “Sorry hyung, but I have a date with Y/N. I promised her way before that I wouldn’t flake. And since we have the game on Saturday, we planned for Friday.” 

Jimin groans, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, I miss the days when Jeon Jeongguk wouldn’t miss a frat party for the world. What happened?” 

They reach the lockers and begin removing their heavy gear. “I ended up dating the smartest, prettiest girl on campus. Can’t risk losing that.”

Jimin catches the slight blush on Jeongguk’s face. Smirking, he comments, “Damn man, you can literally get with any of the girls on campus. And you used to! What happened? You’re so whipped for her dude.” 

Jeongguk smiles as he walks towards the showers. With a wide smile, he adds, “I am.” 

Keep reading

He’s Dangerous, But Not Around You: Part 3

A/N: This sort of ends abruptly, but if I didn’t end it here the imagine would have been extremely long so I’ll be posting part 4 within the next three days x 

Part 1 Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


Three months after Harry called off his relationship with Y/n, it was his birthday, and just like every other year for the past five, the boys decided to spend his birthday weekend at Louis’ family lake house. It was one of the few times a year they’d go- only saved for special occasions. It’s secluded, far from the city, but close enough so that it’s not too much out of their way.

Their tradition when it comes to Harry’s birthday weekend has remained the same for years now. A bonfire, a couple of poker games, countless amounts of beer, and occasional midnight skinny dipping. However, this year, the only change in tradition is Y/n not being there.

The second Harry steps foot out of his car, the whole idea of spending his birthday without Y/n makes him feel sick to his stomach. This was their favorite place to be together. They didn’t know why, but something about the privacy and the exclusiveness of it enhanced their relationship in unimaginable ways. They have had many occasions where they would flee from London without a word and spend a couple days alone here. 

The guys scurry out of the car in excitement, absolutely stoked to be back in the grand Tomlinson lake house. Harry sighs, slamming his car door shut before half-heartedly making his way inside.

He can’t blame their excitement when it came to the celebration weekend, however, they hadn’t seemed to notice how off Harry became the first couple of hours upon their arrival. But what else did he expect? He didn’t tell them, he didn’t tell them any of it. He didn’t want to. He knew they knew, anyways, but he had constantly beat himself up, blaming himself for destroying the one thing in his life he felt was genuinely worth fighting for. If he had told them what he did, he would never hear the end of it. He didn’t need anyone else to remind him of how much he had fucked up.

But ever since Y/n had left, something in him changed. He had no desire to fight anymore. Three days after he broke it off, he was worse than ever. Getting himself into numerous fights multiple times a day. It was his way of coping the loss of her, the loss of his only true humanity. However, when the fourth day came, and Harry started to really understand the fact that he was never going to see Y/n again, was when the pain really set in. He felt himself suffocating in a horrendous amount of guilt. 

She had tried so hard, she pushed him harder than anybody else had. Nobody put as much faith in him as she had. She stayed with him in times he truly didn’t deserve it. Hell, there were even days where she was so mad at him that all she could do was yell and yell and yell, and even then she still slept in the same bed as him. He couldn’t live with letting all of that go- letting her go- so he decided to prove himself wrong

It was the biggest fight of his life, the one against himself; when half of him wanted to inflict his pain onto other people and the other half wanting desperately to change himself for the sake of his relationship with Y/n. But he knew he was stronger than the monster inside of him, even though he believed he was weaker. What made him strong was Y/n’s relationship with him, he would stop at nothing to get her back.

It didn’t take Y/n more than a couple days to tell Zayn what had happened. He called her, asking what was going on since Harry had been a complete wreck with no sign of her in his life. She explained, in the best that she could between her harsh sobs and broken whimpers that Harry had left her. He broke up with her, tried to convince her that they didn’t belong together, and eventually confessed that he wasn’t willing to change for her. 

Y/n made him promise not to tell anybody else because she felt that this was Harry’s responsibility, not anybody else. Of course, Zayn kept his promise and never said a word about it to anyone. 

The rest of the guys tried to get it out of him, though. They never forced it, but occasionally mentioned her to see what he would say or do, but he just ignored them. The mention of her name killed him on the inside, and he, truthfully, still couldn’t face the reality that they aren’t together anymore.

To say the guys have been concerned for him is an understatement. Yeah, he’s stopped fighting, but he’s still not the same Harry he was when he was with Y/n. He’s constantly thinking, his mind always somewhere not where it’s supposed to be. He drinks more, too, which used to spike up his anger, but now only spikes up his sadness. He has no motivation to do anything besides stay in his house and dwell on the guilt he’s carried.

Getting him to the lake house is one of their ways of getting him to heal. They just don’t know how much this place kills him, though. God, he can’t even look at a single square inch of it without seeing her in his head. How the hell is he going to get through the weekend?

The boys begin to notice how hurt Harry is when he begins to prepare for the bonfire they planned on having later that night. This is Harry’s first birthday after his break up with Y/n, and instead of telling them how truly heartbreaking it was for him, he avoided that topic of conversation completely. He was already depressed enough, he didn’t need to bury himself in it on his own birthday.

While Harry sets up the firewood needed for the bonfire, he’s distant. He’s distracted, not consuming himself in any of the boys’ conversations. They know Y/n’s already on his mind, she’s the only one who gets him daydreaming.

Harry sighs, lifting heavy piles of wood and constructing them into a setup for later. He’s finished now, has been finished for a while, but he just can’t stop. All he can think about is how Y/n isn’t with him, how she’s probably in her new home, sulking, hating him for ruining her life. It’s his birthday, and she probably hates him.

He sighs, placing his hands on his knees and leaning forward, eyes trained on the ground. He just can’t get her out of his head, no matter how much he tries to distract himself, almost every waking moment he’s thinking about the first time they met.


They were at a party Zayn’s aunt decided to host. It was a casual-formal event, just something special for her close friends to feel welcomed to upon their return to London after being in the states for a while.

Zayn was, obviously, invited. His aunt even insisted on him bringing his best friends, which he probably would have done anyways because he wasn’t too familiar with the family the party was for. The only member he’s ever really talked to was Y/n. She was super shy, very introverted, but was extremely sweet nonetheless. She had talked to Zayn a couple times when they stayed at his aunt’s house simultaneously. Other than that, they didn’t talk much.

“C’mon, you’re just gonna stand in the corner all night?” Zayn approached Harry, a glass of vodka held loosely in his hands.

Harry was pissed he was even in the situation he was in. Social events weren’t his thing, never something he found entertaining. He didn’t care about this stupid family’s return, he didn’t even know them.

“This is the last goddam place I want to be right now” Harry seethed, “I’m pissed off at you for even fucking forcing me here, don’t force me to try and mingle too.”

He let out a slight grumble in Zayn’s direction before making his way to the mini bar. On his way, in the midst of his aggravation, he felt a body collide with his. He groaned, a slight growl in the mix, definitely not in any mood for people to get in his way.

“Watch where you’re-“

“Oh, sorry” the girl gasped, “didn’t see you there.”

Harry’s body immediately froze at the sight of her. She was the most stunning woman he’s ever seen. Her eyes were sparkling with sorrow, lips parted slightly due to the impact. Her outfit complimented her body shape beautifully, leaving him absolutely speechless.

“I- It’s okay” he stuttered, eyes never leaving her, “are you okay?”

She nodded slightly, completely captivated by the most handsome man standing in front of her. God, how he was so beautiful, she would have never known a man like this could ever exist in this world.

“I’m okay” she softly spoke, “thank you.”

Harry insisted on buying her a drink as a way to apologize for not exactly paying attention to where he was going. They chatted for a while, mainly about the party. Come to find out, she was the daughter of Zayn’s aunt’s friends. She hadn’t gone to the states with them, however, she didn’t really make too much of an effort to go and see her in her stay in London.

They were talking quite well, considering Harry definitely did give her an attitude at times and somehow made her feel extremely intimidated whenever he did so. But he had to admit, it was one of the best conversations he’s had in a while, despite his unfriendly character.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Harry finally asked.

She blushed slightly.

“I’m Y/n. And you?”

“Harry.”

“Oh, you’re Harry.” Y/n said quietly, a hint of realization in her tone of voice.

Harry didn’t like the way she said it, as if insulting him in a way. Which, for him, was a bit of a let down considering there was a moment where he genuinely believed she was different.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Harry snapped, his voice somehow rougher and more raspy than how it was before, “Like you’re any better?“

His fierce stare upon her made Y/n feel belittled. When he spoke to her, he made her feel as if her existence was the dirt beneath his shoes. No wonder Zayn had warned her, no girl like Y/n could survive five minutes with such an intimidating man.

“Oh- um- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that Zayn had told me to stay away from you.” She stuttered, her voice barely above a mumble.

She still refused to make eye contact with him, only for the sake of her safety. She was too afraid to look at him now, when his body seemed tense and eyes filled with aggression. She was an easy pray for people like him to feed on- to get a good kick out of.

“I should go” she muttered, “It was lovely to meet you.”

Almost too quickly, she grabbed her bag off the bar and began to make her way back to where she was before. However, before making it too far, she felt a hand grab ahold of her wrist.

He didn’t know why, but when he had seen the fear set in Y/n’s eyes, an overwhelming feeling of guilt set upon him. It was strange, to feel so much of it hit him over one girl’s reaction. He had done this many times to many people, all of which having a moment of complete vulnerability during his encounters with them. But they didn’t necessarily make him feel anything more than the slightest bit of regret.

“Hey” he whispered softly, delicately pulling her back to where he was standing, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Y/n looked into his eyes as he spoke, giving her the reassurance she needed. He was genuine, she could tell, his eyes screamed sympathy.

“It’s oka-“

“But Zayn is right,” Harry continued, slowly letting her arm go “you should stay away from me.”

Before she had any time to react, he had walked away from her.

The rest of the night, Y/n was determined to speak to him again. After meeting him for the first time, she had an innumerable amount of questions she pressed Zayn to answer. Why is he always angry? Is he dangerous? But why was he so nice to me when I walked away?

Zayn explained that Harry wasn’t someone she should be concerned about. All he told her was that he had been hurt one too many times and it caused him to become violent towards those who threaten potential pain. He doesn’t apologize to anybody, and told her that it was quite strange how he had to her.

Harry couldn’t stop thinking about her. He didn’t know what it was, exactly, that intrigued him so much. Besides the fact she was the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on, she was so easy to talk with. She was quiet, and apart of him liked that about her. The moment he hurt her, he just felt so bad, like it was the last thing he ever wanted to see.

Which is why he walked away from her.

When he saw Zayn later that night, he had asked about her. He asked how they had known each other, asked about her life and where she lived. He was determined to know more about her. It wasn’t even that he just wanted to, but it felt like he had to, like he was being compelled to feel this way toward her.

Right as he was about to leave the party, he had heard her voice behind him

“Harry?”

He slowly turned to look at her. She was looking as shy as ever, fingers fiddling together, cheeks blushed, eyes unsure. She didn’t know exactly what she was going to say, but she wanted to try.

“I want to get to know you.” She spoke softly, her hand reaching up to tuck some of her loose hair behind her ear.

He swore his heart melted. The second the words fell from her lips, he was willing to do whatever it took to get to know her.

“I know you said I should stay away from you, but I don’t want to.”


“Harry,” Zayn mumbles, snapping Harry out of his thoughts, “do you want to talk about it?”

Harry didn’t realize he was near tears until Zayn snapped him out of his trance. He didn’t look at them as he returns to placing the logs in piles, contemplating whether or not to disregard his statement or not. Of course he wants to talk about how much mental pain he’s in from not being with Y/n anymore, but he just can’t talk about it. They know that, too, because if he were ready, he would have already.

“Can you stop asking about her, please?” He groans, tossing the last piece of wood onto the top of the pile, “I know you guys know, so please, don’t make me say it.”

He doesn’t bother to look at them, instead, wiping off some of the sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his flannel before making his way inside the house to change out of his sweaty clothes. He didn’t want to seem rude, but he’s completely and utterly broken, if he has to be questioned about her again he swears he’ll actually become ill.

Half-heartedly making his way to the bedroom, Harry opens up the duffle bag that sits on top of the bed, that he has yet to unpack, searching through the folded clothes to find his plain gray t-shirt he plans on wearing for later that night. Slipping off his flannel and sliding off the now dirty white tank top underneath, he puts on the t-shirt, throwing the dirty clothes into the laundry bin.

Once changed, Harry begins to unpack the remaining clothes out of his bag. His hands are shaking as he does so, breathing heavy when he sets his clothes down on the bed. His stomach twists with sick at the idea of sleeping in this goddamn room.

This was the first place they made love. It was within the first month of being with each other, filled with beautiful romance and bliss. It was the best night of his life. It was the first time he had touched someone so delicately before. The first time his violent hands spread love throughout her body. He said words he never thought he’d say again. Words that he actually fucking meant, words to express how his once cold heart felt warm for what felt like the first time in his life. 


It was her first visit to the lake house. She had just finished cleaning up the remaining dishes, insisting that even though she was the guest, she had to contribute to the clean up after having a barbecue. Harry was sitting by the kitchen table, just watching her, observing her as she hummed an unknown tune, her hair messily tied up on her head. He could hear the boys playing poker in the living room, which he would have played if Harry hadn’t already planned on taking Y/n out near the lake after she had finished cleaning up.

“Alright, Harry, all done.” she smiled, “Now what was it you wanted to show me?”

She made her way toward his sitting frame, taking a seat right on top of his lap. Combing her fingers through his hair, she planted a delicate kiss on the tip of his nose, making Harry’s face blush the color of roses. He reached his arms around her waist, nuzzling her body against his.

“Hm,” he hummed, kissing the exposed skin on her shoulder, “was gonna show you the lake, but almost considering just cuddling you all night long.”

Y/n smiled as Harry leaned in to press a hard kiss against her soft lips. She breathed out heavily, fingertips moving to caress his cheeks, his unshaved stubble scraping against their pads.

“Gross!” they heard Niall call from the living room, “I call the room farthest from yours!”

They both laughed, Harry rolling his eyes at the comment.

“As fantastic that sounds” Y/n smirked, raking her fingers on his back under his shirt, “this is my first time here, and it’s your birthday weekend. I want to explore it with you.”

She leaned down to quickly peck his chapped lips, which soon turned into a wild smirk. His green eyes looked into her brown ones, his fingers dancing along the nape of her neck.

“I can do that for you.”

Once they were by the lake, they sat in silence together. She was cuddled into him, sitting in between his legs, her head rolled back onto his shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. They admired the nature they were surrounded by, overwhelmed by the feeling of each other’s company under the moon. It felt like a dream, every bit of it did. It was such a surreal moment for them. They didn’t need to speak about anything for a while, being this close to each other, feeling each other’s bodies against one another was enough for them. They felt closer than ever.

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed. So much so that Y/n ended up on top of him. Her legs were straddling his waist, hands roaming under his shirt, nails scratching at his ribs. Harry had his hands all in her hair, as if trying to pull her closer to him, as if it were even possible.  Her lips traveled down to his neck, kissing every bit of the exposed skin. She just couldn’t get enough. They both couldn’t.

“Y/n.” Harry whispered.

“I love you, Harry.” She muttered against his skin.

“So in love with you.“

It was the first time it was said. They both knew they loved each other once they met. Hell, it was obvious. It didn’t need to be said, but she said it anyways. She said it like she meant it, too, like her heart was blooming as she spoke. God, he even felt her tears against his neck. She was so overwhelmed by their love, the words just slipped out in the moment, but oh how she meant them.

In that moment, he was a weak man. He completely surrendered himself to her love. He was willing for it to have all control over him. He made a promise to himself, to devote his life proving his love for her, proving that he will be the man she deserves in her life, not the man he had other people see.

“Y/n,” he whispers again, fingers gliding down her waist, “I’m so in love with you. I always will be.”

That night, once he had taken her to their room, they made love over and over and over again. It was their first time, opening up to each other in a completely different way than they usually did. His lips captured hers perfectly, his hands fit in hers as if they were, quite literally, made for each other. His name became a mantra, her body became a temple. It was an entirely new level of trust. It was a night that they could have re-lived every day for the rest of their lives, easily, with not a complaint in the world.



Fuck” Harry spits, reaching the back of his hand up to eyes in an attempt to wipe the tears threatening to spill.

He can’t sleep in here, there’s no way he could, not without Y/n. Not without her in his arms, not without making love to her beforehand. His bed at home made him sick enough, but here? He just can’t fathom it.

He begins to shove the clothes he’s started to unpack back into his suitcase. He can’t stay in here another minute. He’ll lose his goddamn mind.

While zipping up his bag, he hears the front door open. Niall’s laugh fills the silence in the house upon his entrance, which gives Harry an idea on how to fix his sleeping situation without raiding the couch.

“Niall!” Harry yells, slinging the bag over his shoulder.

Niall makes his way up the steps toward his voice.

“Yeah?!”

“We’re switching rooms!”

“Oh hell no!”

Niall goes into the room Harry’s in, his face strict and serious.

“You and Y/n have fucked on that bed way too many times. I don’t even think you washed the sheets last time you guys did it on there, either. Pretty sure this room has a permanent stench of sex because of you two.”

Harry’s jaw clenches. Normally, he’d have a rational conversation until he got his way, but he isn’t taking this situation lightly. So, instead, he grabs Niall’s wrist harshly, eyes narrowing down at him as he takes a threatening step closer to him.

Niall’s eyes widen as he looks up at him. Not even because a small part of him felt intimidated, but because this is the first time Harry has shown aggression toward anybody within the past couple of months. There is a chance the part he’s been hiding is becoming unleashed, but Niall knows it was easily set off by Harry’s many failed attempts to get Y/n out of his head.

“I don’t think you understand, Niall” Harry seethes, “I may have not laid my hands on anyone in months, but missing Y/n doesn’t only make me sad, it makes me dangerous. I will not hesitate to do whatever it takes to be as far away from this room as possible. Now I will not tell you again, we are switching rooms.”

Niall rips his hand out of Harry’s grip, shaking it around a bit from the amount of pressure Harry was gripping it with.

“Alright, Jesus,” he groans, “but you better wash those fucking sheets. I refuse to sleep in a bed full of sex.“

Harry lets out a breath he was holding in, somewhat relieved that he doesn’t have to be spending three nights in his own personal hell. 

Adjusting the strap of his bag onto his shoulder, Harry slowly nods as he continues to look at Niall. He feels bad for treating him in the way he just did, but the idea of becoming more hurt than he already was is something he wouldn’t be able to live with. 

“Yeah, yeah I will.” He mutters. “I’m sorry, by the way, for that. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I can’t be in this room for another second without losing my mind. I really can’t.”

Niall sighs, slowly reaching up to wrap his arms security around Harry. Being like his brother, he really has felt so bad for what he’s been going through. He can’t imagine the heartbreak, or how he’s even surviving the breakup as well as he has. 

Harry reaches his arms around Niall’s body, hugging him back.

“It’s okay, bud. I get it, you don’t have to apologize. I’ll even wash the sheets for you.”

Harry lets out a slight laugh, shaking his head briefly before detaching himself from Niall and making his way into his room.

Once settled, Harry makes his way down to the kitchen to grab a couple of beers and take some time to himself. If this weekend is going to haunt the living shit out of him, he might as well try to make himself relax the slightest bit.

With a bottle of beer held loosely in his hand, he opens the sliding door that leads to the porch. Leaning his body against the doorway, Harry admires the sun setting on the lake, watching as the wind moves the leaves in small dance.

For the first time since the breakup, he actually feels at peace.

“She broke up with you, didn’t she?” Liam asks, suddenly joining Harry on the porch as he sips on a bottle of beer, slinging his arm around Harry’s shoulders.

Harry rolls his eyes, the accusation of her leaving him must have been the topic of all their conversations. Of course that’s what they thought, it must have been so convenient for them to think Y/n could live a great life without him while he would be a danger to the streets. That’s how much he needed her, but they never seemed to notice how much she needed him, not how Harry noticed.

“Why is everyone so convinced that if we were to ever break up, she’d be the one that called it off?” Harry snarls.

“I was the one who ended it.” He continues, “It wasn’t working out.”

He takes a swig from his beer, eyes still trained on the view of the lake. He doesn’t want to continue this conversation, doesn’t want to relive the night that tore his life apart. Most of all, he doesn’t want to talk about it here, at this stupid fucking lake house, and have to dwell on the pain he wishes he could erase. He doesn’t want to be reminded that he was the one who did this to them.

“C’mon,” Liam sighs, “she was the only thing you had. She was the only one to get this Harry back. You were just afraid she’d leave you first.”

Harry decides not to answer, not knowing how to respond. Of course that’s why he ended it, that’s how he operates. He pushes those away just so that nobody pushes him away. He could deal with anybody else doing it, but if Y/n had left him first, there was no way he’d ever make it through that. Not a fiber in his body doubts that for even a second.

“Have you spoken to her at all?” Liam breaks the silence.

Harry looks down at his beer, circling it in his hands. Why does he keep asking him questions he clearly doesn’t want to answer?

“She said she never wanted to see me again.” Harry mumbles, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left.”

Jesus, Harry.” Liam whispers. “Are you okay?”

Something about that question makes something inside of Harry twist. Is he okay? How can he be okay? He hasn’t seen the love of his life, hasn’t talked to her, hasn’t even heard the sound of her breathing in months. Every part of his body hurts every time he thinks about her because the feeling of being away from her is the most painful feeling in the world.

His life was consumed by her love. His entire world changed when he met her. Nobody else could he lay his hands so sweetly on, could his voice speak so softly to, could his heart swell so greatly for. She changed him, even though he was too scared to admit it to her, she changed him. She gave him hope- gave him a reason to hold onto himself.

Since she’s left, in times when he’s at his all-time low, all he can think about is how his arms felt holding her, how his lips felt kissing her, how fucking relieving and beautiful it was to talk to her, and how he let all of that go.

How can he be okay?

Tears cloud his vision, his hands begin to shake. Oh, God. He thought he was over this. He thought he was over the emotions, he didn’t deserve them. He did this, he caused all this, this was his decision. Yet here he is, again, fighting back the tears that have been so desperate to be released.

“I mean” Harry begins, his voice shaking as he speaks, “I mean, I fucked up everything. I had everything I ever needed and I was the one who let it go. I was starting to think that her leaving me would be worse but now-”

He’s choking back sobs, face wet with unwelcomed tears, “now I can’t stop thinking about how much she hates me right now. She has a home without me, she lives her life without me, she is falling asleep at night without me. And the worst part is that she didn’t want it that way. That was all me, everything is because of me!”

Liam rushes to wrap his arms around him, pulling Harry’s head down onto his shoulder so that he has a place to cry. Harry’s holding him like it’s his ever last bit of hope, almost as if grasping for reassurance for his relationship with Y/n.

“Harry.” he whispers.

“Trust me, Liam, I didn’t want this, either” he continues, words scrambling out of his mouth, “but what else was I supposed to do? And now I’m at this stupid fucking lake house where we talked about getting married and she’s not here with me and I can’t do this anymore!”

He’s completely helpless now. His body is weak, shaking against Liam’s tense frame. He’s in so much pain, so much heartbreak that he’s almost screaming, begging God for some mercy because he can’t take this anymore. The constant thought of her, the constant reminder that he’s never going to see her again rips his heart out every second of every day.

“I just really don’t want to know what it’s like to live another day without her” his voice quivers, “I never do.”

Harry’s wet eyes meet Liam’s sympathetic ones. Liam opens his mouth, preparing to say something, but Harry simply shakes his head. He can’t do this anymore. 

He pats Liam’s shoulder- thanking him for being by his side- before turning around to walk away. He slides the glass door open, walking inside the kitchen to replace his now empty bottle of beer with a new one.

“Wait,” Liam mumbles, “wait, Harry, I have to tell you something.”

Harry stops in his place, slowly turning his body around to look at him. He cocks his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed, seeming confused.

“Y/n- she’s- she’s coming here tonight.”  

Dozing Off

Originally posted by prettyboyspence

Requested by - @imagicana

“So picture this. Reader bad ass af and super flirty think morgan but female version, always flirts and teases Reid. One day he teases her, they end up fucking in an interrogation room”

Warnings - smut and unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids)

Y/N and Spencer couldn’t be anymore different than they already were. Y/N was someone who would always be the first into any building ready to arrest the unsub. Spencer was the one that would stay behind, more often than not, to assist from the precinct. Y/N would be the one to squabble with Rossi and Tara over what the best sports car available was. Spencer was the one who would rather read the bibliography of Sir Bernard Spilsbury, the father of modern forensics. Y/N would boast with Derek and Emily about sexual escapades, whereas Spencer would catch up on some paperwork. Y/N was the first one out onto the dance floor and Spencer was the first one to leave. 

Y/N treated Spencer the way that Derek and Penelope treated each other. Y/N would call him “vanilla thunder” flustering him to no end. Spencer would always correct her grammar causing Y/N immense frustration. Thus causing Y/N to retaliate by stating false facts which annoyed Spencer to all hell. Everyone knew that one day the two would end up together, other than Spencer and Y/N themselves. The two were head over heels in love with the other. They had this fiery chemistry. They had a love/hate relationship of sorts. And above all they were both immensely frustrated, sexually. 

When Spencer thought Y/N was going over the case file she would instead be thinking of him pounding into her wearing just his tie. When Y/N thought Spencer was biting his lip in concentration he was trying to get the image of her screaming his name in ecstasy out of his head. The two were complete opposites, yet there was an animalistic sexual tension between the two.

Their lips collided, ravaging the other. Barely getting the time to lock the door to the interrogation room, Spencer picked up Y/N, as if she weighed less than a feather before placing her on the desk. Y/N wrapped her legs around Spencer, slowly grinding into him as her lips placed small wet kisses on his neck. Spencer let out a groan before he rushed to pull up Y/N’s pencil skirt and felt her wetness through her underwear. The pale pink boy shorts contrasting with the dark dusty pink from Y/N’s juices. Y/N reciprocated the feral actions by undoing Spencer’s pants and massaging him through his boxers.

“You’re so wet” moaned out Spencer, stroking her over her underwear as he left kisses by her collarbones, leaving Y/N a quivering mess.

“It’s all for you, Doctor” breathed out Y/N, while sticking her hand down his boxers to stroke him, smirking as she knew that being called doctor was a massive turn on for her teammate.

Not being able to wait any longer, Spencer slid aside Y/N’s underwear before entering her. He let out a moan, not being used to a tight space. Y/N bit her lip, holding back any moans so as to not alert anyone left in the building.

“Move” whimpered out Y/N.

“You sure?” asked Spencer.

“Yes I’m sure. Just fuck me” yelped out Y/N as Spencer began to thrust into her.

Spencer ripped open Y/N’s button down shirt and started playing with her breasts, making sure not to leave one out. He played with her nipples as he continued to drive his cock into her.

Y/N’s moans started to get closer to another as her legs started to shake from the rush of nerves. Her walls started to clench around him signaling her orgasm. Spencer removed a hand from her breasts and started to draw figure eights on Y/N’s clit urging along the arrival of her climax. The culmination of the euphoric look on Y/N’s face and the clenching walls surrounding his engorged self, ushered on his own climax.

“Y/N, you okay?” asked Spencer.

Y/N jolted up from her previous lying down position on the couch.

“Yeah, I just dozed off” replied Y/N, yawning, as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

Knowing that she wouldn’t get any further sleep without dreaming about Spencer, Y/N tried to focus on finishing the paperwork. Spencer was the man the Y/N continuously dreamed about. He was the one that she thought about when getting off. He was the one that she would call if she needed help. But he was too perfect and she knew that he deserved better. He deserved a beautiful, blonde hair, blue eyed woman whose intelligence rivaled his. Unaware of Spencer’s compassion and affection for her, she thought that he was unobtainable. 

@reiding-and-writing

A/N It has been a long time since I wrote smut. I apologize if it sucks! I also know that this is A LOT shorter than my normal fics, I’m sorry. Smut just takes more time and effort for me to write. I hope ya’ll enjoy it regardless!

Alright, so now I’ll get into a bit of detail with what was happening while making these gifs (and don’t worry, I’m fine. Sometimes it’s just fun to talk about what was happening when you acted something out, y’know?) 

1: ACTING: Okay, this day I had a really hard time getting ANY tears whatsoever. I was dry as a bone. So I ended up using eyedrops for this. *sighs*

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The Value Of Just Shutting The Fuck Up Sometimes


A few weeks ago, I was doing an interview with a reporter and she was asking about almost every weird GamerGate conspiracy theory that had come up about me in the last few years. I’ve honestly forgotten more of them than I remembered at this point. She didn’t seem to understand why I’d never addressed most of the accusations which had ranged from whose dick I touched to literally murdering people. She said in researching me for the piece, she’d only ever found the weirdo accusations but not my version of events, and seemed to not understand why I wouldn’t just say what actually did or didn’t happen.

I can’t blame her for being curious. I think whenever we hear something wild, especially about someone or something we care about, we want to know answers. Lord knows if you’re the one being lied about, it’s a natural impulse to want to set the record straight or give your side of anything.

Sadly, that’s extremely short sighted. No one thinks about what might happen next.

It’s been over three years of being accused of all kinds of shit from all kinds of people, and if I’ve learned nothing else, I’ve learned the importance of restraint and the responsibility that comes with having a large platform and gigantic visibility. It makes me feel like a kaiju where any small movement could potentially tip over a building. I’ve written a bunch in my book about how engaging with bad-faith accusations and signal boosting them just to refute them can easily backfire and ingrain false information in people’s minds even further. That can sometimes just come down to a math problem - if someone with an audience of 50 makes up a rumor about you, if you respond to it with your audience of 500, more people are going to see the false stuff than would otherwise. To complicate matters, there are enough people out there who think that even refuting something at all makes you look guilty. There are people who want you to be guilty because they already don’t like you. Frequently, bad-faith accusations will not be addressed by proof to the contrary, because you can’t reason someone out of something they didn’t reason themselves into in the first place. People are complicated.

But when you put your side of anything out there, the thing that comes next isn’t usually “oh, okay”. The thing that comes next is usually escalation. It’s people digging into shit trying to prove you wrong. It’s invasive, and it can have so much collateral damage.

For example, when people ask me why I didn’t address my ex’s claims about who I did and didn’t sleep with, even when I had the floor, I get why they’d ask. My own desire to keep some remaining shred of my privacy aside, those claims aren’t just about me. I’ve been accused of sleeping with people I haven’t ever really talked to, people who are pretty private in general who just want to be left the hell alone. I don’t have the right to drag them back into a messy situation that involves probably getting stalked and yelled at by nazis just to try and save my own skin, especially since it’s more likely than not that people are just going to believe whatever they want to anyway. Or maybe that’s me being cynical after watching years of people claiming that I fucked someone for a review I never got from a website I already had written for in the past. I honestly have, I think understandably, lost a bit of perspective on that particular point.

This is especially complicated by situations like mine, because I am under constant surveillance by people who hate my guts who are looking for people to hurt, and people looking to feed on “drama”, and people looking for new targets. If you think that’s being dramatic, there are places I know of that have threads specifically about stalking me *to this day* with literally thousands of posts in them. Bad faith actors aside, my audience is in the hundreds of thousands. The responsibility that comes with that is something I take extremely seriously.
It’s something that I encourage everyone else with big online platforms to take extremely seriously too. I think a lot of us internet famous folks ended up here without really trying to, and it’s easy to feel like “well I didn’t ask for this and it’s not my fault if something happens” and while, yeah, sure, you can’t take responsibility for the actions of other people (especially people who are super out there and just looking to hurt someone regardless of whatever you’re doing), I see no reason to not try to minimize harm. A power dynamic doesn’t cease to exist just because you didn’t explicitly seek that power out, or maybe didn’t even want it in the first place. People who have less resources than you will still have less resources than you regardless of how you feel about it.

When there’s a significant power differential at play, there’s harm algebra to be done when it comes to addressing disinformation. It’s not as simple as “just setting the record straight” in public, because once you make something public you give up a certain degree of control that you cannot get back. It might mean putting someone who is already hurting or has so much less than me in more harm than I’d ever face by just taking the reputation hit.

Sometimes there’s situations where I just have to take it on the chin, because nothing happens in a vacuum. Sometimes I just have to let it go, no matter how much it fucking sucks to have people out there tearing into you for reasons that really have very little to do with you, because the collateral damage is too much on too many people to justify any potential repairs to my reputation.

Honestly, it’s really not worth it to me to escalate a situation just to make a frequently pointless attempt at getting people to be more critical of the wild shit they read about me online, especially when it means probably hurting someone else. It’s been years and I still don’t know how to navigate a lot of this. I’ve tried so much already - talking about bigger stuff, proving what actually happened, attempting to prove negatives, responding only with screenshots of fighting game win screens. It’s not like people making shit up about me, regardless of motivation, is a novel occurrence in my life. It’s not like I’ve made the right call all the time - I’ve arrived at this method of dealing with shit after making a lot of *wrong* calls. I’ve been pretty open about being a bad fit for being a public figure of any sort - I was (and still feel) vastly unprepared to handle being a weird symbol to so many people who want all kinds of things from me regardless of if they need a villain or a hero or a symbol of whatever the fuck.

Frankly I can’t live my life around playing whack a mole with whatever new horseshit slithers out of the corners of the internet on any given day that ends in Y, because when I was trying to do that it really almost cost me my life.

A fun side effect of being a survivor of domestic violence is how easy it is to slip back into doubting your own life and experiences to a hyperbolic degree. A fun side effect of depression is feeling like everything you say and do is bad and wrong and that you’re worthless on a regular basis. A fun side effect of my PTSD is flashing back to being in that fucking elevator shaft when GamerGate started and I couldn’t sleep or eat and was convinced everyone would turn on me and I’d be alone forever any time some conspiracy comes up that hits me at just the right angle that it gets under my armor.

But I know that’s squarely out of my control. All I can do is manage what I do with that. I don’t know what else to do other than seek external advice from people smarter than me when something comes up that really gets under my skin or makes me doubt my own version of events even when I damn well know something didn’t happen to help counter the trashbrain filter that the disinformation comes in through because having those issues doesn’t let me off of any hooks. I don’t want to use any of that, or even my status as someone who is frequently targeted with shit that I’m too exhausted to type out so just picture me gesturing vaguely at everything to absolve me of anything. I don’t ever want to think I’m above reproach, so I check in with people around me who will be honest and call me on my shit. When I do fuck up, and I do because I’m a human in an extremely weird fucking situation, I do whatever seems like the right thing to do, not the face-saving thing to do. Sometimes, this is shit that’s done in private. I don’t know why people assume everything has to be handled extremely online. But overwhelmingly more often than not, shit is maliciously made up, and more often than not the only right move that will de-escalate shit and hurt the least amount of people is just letting it go and praying that people will see through it, or they’ll actually talk to me if they see some wild accusation. And if people wanted to look for reasons to think the worst and get the knives out immediately, honestly, I feel extremely done with anyone looking to build people up only to gleefully tear them back down. I’m tired and I’ve watched too many communities devour themselves to want any part of that, and am only interested in working toward a future that’s centered on restorative justice instead of exclusively punitive systems in different settings. I’m tired of enthusiastic disposibility masquerading as community. All that behavior says to me is that I was never safe around you in the first place.  

I know I’m taking a gigantic risk in even posting this to begin with because I know it’s an uncomfortable subject, but it feels like a bigger, longer-term risk to watch my comrades, siblings, and friends all scared and lost on either side of the power dynamic - both as people who have grievances with people with gigantic platforms, and as people who have gained both visibility and the jealousy and hatefollows that come with it. I’m tired of talking about this stuff in dms with other scared people who don’t know what to do. And by no means do I think this is the only way to deal with any of this - this is just how I feel, and how I approach being someone who went from being some random weirdo to being a cultural football. Your mileage may vary. Hopefully I figure out a way that’s less dehumanizing, and if I do, I’ll be sure and let you know. But again, I’m a random weirdo game developer. I’m figuring this shit out as I go, and I lean into my skids and wear my heart on my sleeve and if y'all want to throw me in the trash over being aggressively vulnerable and human at you, that’s ok. You don’t have to like me or support me, and I like trash anyway.

Shit’s pretty fucked up in the world right now (duh), but the very least we can do is really interrogate how and what we use our varying degrees of reach and visibility for. We have to see ourselves as part of something larger and look at our impact instead of just our intentions. For me, sometimes that means that being right doesn’t mean a damn thing and is unrelated to doing the right thing. Sometimes, for me, that means knowing when to just shut the fuck up and let people think what they’re gonna think. And if nothing else, I’ve seen that on a long enough timeline, people tend to figure out who makes shit up without my involvement.

So I’m only gonna say all of this once, here, so that I never have to say it again and I can point at it any time I’m asked to weigh in on something someone said about me on the internet, because god damn I’m tired and I’d rather spend my time and effort trying to help people and make dope shit than fuss about what people think they know about me.

sketches [ cm x r ]

Originally posted by evans-hansen

fandom : Dear Evan Hansen

by : Victoire

pairing : Connor Murphy x Reader

summary : In which you are a gifted artist & Connor just so happens to be your unsuspecting muse.

word count : 4,519

warnings : Swearing

a / n : Here we are! I’m beyond excited to be sharing my first fic with you. I’ve recently gotten into DEH & really explored the characters as people, so I do hope the way I write Connor is enough for you! I had my ups & downs while writing this, but the result did prove successful.

Oh, & make sure to see if you can catch a hidden If I Could Tell Her reference in the fic! *winky face* I would love you for the rest of my days if you all could leave a like or maybe reblog! Feedback & constructive criticism are always welcome.


Biting your lip in concentration, your eyes carefully studied the sharp but somehow soft lines of his face. He was sitting diagonally in front of you, with a perfect view of his profile.

Why would you be drawing the infamous Connor Murphy in the middle of a calculus class, you ask? Honestly, you didn’t even have a valid reason except for the fact that he was absolutely beautiful.

His was a unique kind of beauty, dark & harsh & in all ways mysterious, but at the same time there was a sort of lightness to it, fragile & delicate.

It puzzled you sometimes, but you were still drawn to the enigma that happened to be Connor Murphy.

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Invite Me To Stay

Originally posted by eu-nasciassim

Theo x Reader

(Y/N)’s House (Layout & Build by   @heyitskatrina)


You rolled your eyes as you glanced at Theo’s truck. You knew he’d been sleeping in it. You regularly stole any leftover food at the end of the day and left it for him. You were sure the boss knew as they’d stared labeling take out boxes for you to take.


“There’s a breakfast and a coffee on the side.” One of the older woman, you worked with told you as you came in and shrugged off your coat, grabbing an apron. “Poor things been out there in the cold all night.”


“He’s been arrested twice, maybe we should convince the boss to give him a job.” You sighed as you grabbed the food and drink and headed over to Theo’s truck.

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