or even knows what a comb is for

6

Sterek Social Media AU:

Stiles Stilinski, social media nerd extraordinaire, met the man of his dreams during a drunken night out with his friends in New York. The catch here - because there’s always a catch in Stiles’ life - is that the morning after the best day in Stiles’ existence (the BEST) the man is gone, leaving no way for Stiles to contact him and only a piece of paper with his name: Derek Hale. Stiles sets on a mad search through his beloved online platforms but comes out of the other side with a bruised heart and no man. He decides, then, to enlist the help of the people he knows he can count on: his followers and friends.

some dad lance things he’d definitely do

  • after dropping the kids off at school, he’d yell out the window “MAKE GOOD CHOICES SWEETIES” in a white suburban mom voice
    • the kids die in embarrassment
    • honks ridiculously long when he goes to pick them up, all the other kids stare at his kids, his kids love him but also want to go home rn immediately
  • dances with his kids from every genre. to traditional cubano music all the way to beyoncé, it’s adorable, even when they kinda trip over their own little toddler feet
  • is the Really Competitive Dad at their sports games
    • will definitely yell at the Ref
    • “COME ON THEY TOTALLY PULLED AT HER PIGTAILS CALL IT, REF DO IT!!!”
    • gives the evil eye to the other team’s coach. the coach has no idea why this dad is squinting at him
    • gives his kids a lot of support, smiles, and thumbs up at their games
      • definitely the loudest dad in the sidelines
      • probably made signs with his kiddos for what they wanted them to say on it, carries them proudly during the games
        • (they even made one for keith to hold too)
  • the best at doing their kids hair. especially the one who has super curly hair, because he used to have to comb the knots out for his younger sister and knows how to do it in a way that would hurt
  • take his kids out to look at the stars
    • they come up with fake stories about each one because they don’t know any of the constellations yet, it’s super cute
  • first time he took his first bab to cuba with keith, his mom burst out to tears. then lance burst out to tears. everyone burst out into tears.
    • keith was very confused but comforted them both
  • just….. Lance as a Dad (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧

I never pranked my parents again after the incident.

by reddit user Eigengraulogy

I was 11 years old when it happened.

As a kid, I knew that something wasn’t quite right with the events that unfolded at the time. Even though it was never brought up again under any circumstances by either one of my parents, it’s something that always stuck with me. I can’t say it’s a memory that I tried to suppress seeing as it was always there at the back of my mind, bothering me like an itch that wouldn’t go away unless properly scratched.

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Angel

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Mardi Gras shenanigans. It’s porn, plot is optional.

Word Count:1,976

Warnings: Language, Smoking, Dirty Talk, Oral (MR)

A/N: Are you ready for the longest blowjob in history… (I don’t own the gif)

“Did it hurt?” Sam approached you, a sly smirk on his lips. When you didn’t play along and simply shot him an unimpressed look, he snickered. “…when you fell from Heaven.”

Yeah, you were dressed as an angel.

Not your idea, though. As it turned out, Wanda was a big fan of Mardi Gras and begged until you all agreed to throw a costume party. Tuesday morning, she shoved a white dress into your arms and said you were an angel. You didn’t want to upset her, so you just rolled with it.

Sam laughed at his own joke before the smell of pancakes drew his attention away from you. You looked around the room and sighed, sipping your second glass of… whatever it was Natasha had given you. It was good, a bit fruity and bitter enough to match your mood.

Wanda, who was dressed as Violet from the Incredibles, was running around the living room, filling plates with pancakes. Loud music blasted through the speakers.

“Looking for someone?”

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anonymous asked:

What's supercorps reaction after spending their first night together

The first time the spend the night together, they don’t have sex.

No, the first time they spend the night together it’s because Lena insists on keeping their movie date even though she spent all day in exhausting meetings.

She’s leaned over against Kara’s chest as they binge watch through old black and white movies, when her eyes slowly start to drift closed. Kara’s just so WARM and her fingers are combing through Lena’s hair -

The next thing she knows she’s lifted up in Kara’s arms and they’re floating towards the bedroom. She isn’t supposed to know that Kara is Supergirl, so she keeps her eyes closed until Kara gently places on the bed.

And she tries to protest, she DOES - but Kara’s arms are wrapping tightly around her and the blankets on her bed are so SOFT, not to mention they smell like Kara.

When she wakes up the next morning, it’s the best she’s ever felt. Kara’s arms are wrapped around from behind, her body cradling Lena’s.

“G’morning, beautiful.“

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anonymous asked:

So, first off, hi there! Second... what kind of things do you think nerd!Derek would do to try and get jock!Stiles' attention? Or, what kind of cutesy things do you think jock!Stiles would attempt to make nerd!Derek notice him and laugh. (Spoiler alert, Derek already does notice him, but shhhh!)

So I combined these two prompts, I hope you guys don’t mind! Have some more nerd!Derek from me ^^

(Also, my eternal thanks to both @pale-silver-comb and @halesheart for telling me my writing isn’t horseshit and I should continue)

Title: You Hold My Attention (Without Even Trying)

“Oh my god, again?”

Scott frowns. “This is seriously getting out of hand.”

“Ugh, I know,” Stiles says as he bends down to pick up the flowers – tulips today – that dropped out of his locker when he opened it. “I mean, it was cute at first, but after the fifth time you get wet flowers smacked into your face, it kind of gets old.”

Speaking of wet flowers, they’re soaking through his shirt where he was cradling them under his arm. He holds them out in front of him, scrunching his face when they drip onto his sneakers. He’s not exaggerating when he says he’s kind of tired of them. Don’t get him wrong, he still appreciates the fact that someone takes the time out of their day to buy him flowers, but it’s just a bit – well – too much.

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Finn| Into Your Arms |Bálor

Title; Into Your Arms

Pairing; Finn Bálor/Reader

Word Count; 5523

Summary; If it’s just a game, then I like the way that we play.

Warnings;  NSFW. Body painting leading to smut. Smut for smut’s sake. Here be no plot. Latex free.

A/N; Found this little gem saved in my documents from months ago because I forgot about it. Heathens!Tyler is a work in progress. Thinking next week.  You know what to do fam. Leave me some noise and kisses.

Tag Train:

@alexablss  @laochbaineann  @bettergetusetoit
@fuckyeahbulletclub  @covergirlcollarbones  @thedeboniardevistation @amaranthine-reign  @leelakoiwolff @crookedmoonsaultpunk
@princess3733 @britishscoundrel  geekoftv
@bbmbabe  @alexahood21  @mrsuniverse
@sorleino   @sweet-and-stormy   heelturn-timesten
@imaginingwwesuperstars  @wrasslin-x @iloveenzoamore@crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans@tomsbookitten  @sarahmatthews7  amantedelcalcio
@littledeadrottinghood   @wwelife0014
@alexispoo  @sjwriteswrestling-1   mox-midget
@wwesmutdonedirtcheap @50shadesofadamcolebaybay
@screamersdontdance  @wwe-smutfics
@alexahood21  @tmsixone   @daintymissdevitt
@mistressbalor @nickysmum1909  
@wwewritings   @mgswdw  @finnbaelorxx
@shadow-of-wonder @valeonmars
@neeadinghugs @squirrel666 @jenn0755  @actualamyautopsy @roserae527 @ladylillianrose  @panicattheambrose
@thebutterflygirl16   @catie-kaboom   @aye-its-shaianne  @breezy14fan @lindseyrae20   hiitsmecharlie
@blondekel77  @skrillexslays13  @lisa-likes-wrasslin  @danikajessyfandoms  @charismatickilljoy
@sunflowers-and-swear-words  @atravelerinspirit
@beckyylynchs  @baeckyshorsewomen  @darkgalaxy14 @hushothermuses @superrezzy00  @blood-fells  @nerdy-cinnaqueen
@eleonora-dsb  @somewhere-in-ambrose-asylum
@little–alphabet–boy @chloebowiee   @shieldgirl95

Originally posted by thearchitectwwe

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Fight (Fuck) Me! [Stiles x Reader]

A/N: just a little heads up, Theo’s a complete dick in this one. Also, if u guys have any ideas for stuff plz let me know.


Pairing: Stiles x Reader, Theo x Reader


Warning: abusive relationships, asshole Theo, smut (female fingering, oral - male receiving, the deed etc)


Summary: You and Stiles aren’t the best of friends, but you know he’s a pretty decent guy in the end.


***


“Are you fucking serious?” You yell out in shock and hear Stilinski irritable ‘Shut it!’ from halfway across the house. You can’t be bothered with how you’re dressed when you stomp over to him, holding out your bottle of moisturizer.


“Stilinski!” You shout and Stiles groans loudly. He’s lounging on the living room couch playing Xbox and dressed in a tight white shirt with some black jeans.


“What are you bitching about now?” He asks, not bothering to look away from his game. Your mouth drops open in shock at his lack of response and you stand with your arms crossed.


“I’m talking about this, you assfuck!” You scream, throwing your now ruined bottle at him. Stiles finally looks away from his game when the sticky, half open bottle hits him square in the chest. He holds it away from himself with two fingers.


“The fuck?” He asks, looking up at you. You stare him down, seething with anger with your arms crossed under your breasts.


“You!” You accuse. “You did this! And your gonna repay me for it. Do you have any idea how much that shit costs?”


You and Stiles have been living together for about three weeks now. Your dad and the Sheriff are close friends and you needed a place to stay while your dad was out of town on business. Immediately, he sent you to Beacon Hills, where you would attend Beacon High, and unfortunately, have to live with the Sheriff and his asshole son.


Only, that asshole son was a total fucking babe.


A total fucking babe that was staring at you with his mouth agape.


“What?” You snap angrily. It is only then that it occurs to you what exactly you look like. Your hair and parts of your body are dripping wet, having just walked out of the shower moments earlier, and the only thing covering your modesty is your hot pink Victoria’s Secret bra and thong, which you were wearing for a date tonight.


Stiles continues to stare at you, and makes a considerable effort to maintain eye contact. You huff, which you know makes your chest flair out. “Take a good look, Stilinski, coz that’s the closest you’re ever gonna get.”


With those final words, you grab the moisturizer bottle from his hands and storm back into the shower, temper flaring. You can feel his eyes on your ass all the way.


When you’re in the bathroom, you lock the door and make a quick decision to look extra fuckable tonight. You’re sure that Theo will appreciate your efforts. And if you slip back into the shower and spend thirty extra minutes with your fingers in your pussy, thinking of the hungry look in Stiles’ eyes moments earlier then it’s nobody’s business.


****


When you do finally emerge from the bathroom, you can’t help but feel a little proud. You’re wearing a tight white top that dips into a considerably low V with a red mini skirt that falls halfway down your thighs. Your hair is done in a way that you know makes you look gorgeous and your makeup, having taken about an hour to do, is fucking on point.


You walk to your temporary room and rummage through the closet the Sheriff gave you until you find a pair of brown, heeled boots. Slipping them on, you walk to the mirror and admire the way they elongate your legs.


“Hey, you done or not coz there’s-”


The voice stops short and you turn to see Stiles standing in your doorway, mouth agape. He’s staring at you as though he can’t believe what’s in front of him, and you take the opportunity to reach down to grab your bag and get your perfume, ass in the air.


“What is it?” You ask, flipping your hair to the side so that you can spray your neck. From the corner of your eye, you can see the way Stiles follows the movement, licking his lips. For a second, you think he might just pounce and attack you right there.


It’s difficult to ignore the wave of desire that courses through you at the thought.


Stiles finally snaps out of his daze when you place the perfume bottle down loudly. He clears his throat awkwardly and pretends that he hasn’t been outright staring. “Your, um- Your date’s here.”


You nod and grab your purse, slinging it over your shoulder. As you turn to leave, you notice that Stiles is still leaning against the door frame. “Yes?” You ask, albeit impatiently.


“How long’ve you been with this guy?” He asks, going for casual but it’s a near miss. You roll your eyes.


“None of your business, dad,” You reply pointedly, making a move to push past him. Stiles is quicker and stronger, so he easily stops you with two firm hands on your shoulders.


“I’m serious, (Y/N),” When he speaks you realise that he actually is. “Who is this guy to you? Do you trust him?”


There’s a long moment when you truly don’t know what to do. For the most of it, your conversations with Stiles have been clipped and short, or irritated and in the form of shouting contests. You haven’t heard him speak this sincerely before.


“Why?” You ask because you honest to God want to know. Stiles looks contemplative, as though he’s not sure whether or not to tell you something. The moment a decision crosses his face, a loud honk of a car is heard outside.


“Just-” Stiles sighs, and you notice that his hands are still on your shoulders. “Just be careful, alright? If there’s one person in the world that I don’t trust, it’s Theo Raeken.”


After a small nod, Stiles moves out of the way and you brush past him, walking out the door to where Theo is waiting in his car. You barely realise what’s going on around you, your mind still reeling from Stiles’ sudden attitude change.


“Do I smell?”


You jump at the sound of the voice. Looking to your left, you see Theo smiling at you gently. The car’s stopped and you realise that you’ve spent the entire ride to the restaurant in silence.


“I’m sorry?” Because there’s no way you heard that right.


“Do I smell?” He asks again and you shake your head. “Maybe it’s the outfit. A bit much?”


You smile and take a second to look at what he’s wearing. Theo cleans up nice. He’s in a blue button down with a pair of black slacks and some Oxfords on his feet. He looks really good.


“You’re incredibly hot.” You say with a smirk and Theo barks out a laugh. He steps out of the car and moves to your side, opening the door for you before you can’t protest.


“You’re pretty hot yourself, babe,” He whispers in your ear as you stand, one hand smacking your ass before he closes the door.


Your eyes dance around the restaurant and suddenly you feel really bad for the car ride. Mistaking your guilt, Theo walks you towards the table with a hand on the small of your waist, murmuring in your ear: “Don’t worry. The manager owes me a favour.”


He pulls your chair out for you and you sit, feeling a slight blush form on your neck. The table is set for two, in the balcony with no others. It’s completely private. There’s a rose in the centre and the classical music from inside filters through the air.


“This is really sweet.” You tell him when he takes his place in front of you. He smiles bashfully.


“Well, we needed some way to celebrate out one month anniversary.” You grin but can’t help but feel extremely guilty, thinking about how you’d spent the morning.


“Hey, what’s your deal with Stiles?” The words are out of your mouth before you can’t stop them. The smile on Theo’s face falls and immediately you regret it.


“My deal?” He asks, and immediately you know that you’ve crosses a line. In your four weeks of dating, you quickly learned when and when not to question Theo, and when to immediately back away before he gets mad. “What gives you the idea I have anything to do with him?”


“Nothing.” You say quickly, picking up a menu. “He just seemed to recognize you as all. Must’ve been my imagination.”


“Yeah, you really need to put a handle on that.” He murmurs, picking up his menu as well. You pointedly ignore the comment and take far longer to read the menu than you normally would have.


“Good evening.” The waiter, a guy who’s probably around 19 with brown eyes and combed back blonde hair, greets gently. “My name is Evan and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear out specials?”


You were about to say yes, because you really didn’t know what to order, when Theo spoke for you. “That won’t be necessary.” He said. “I’ll have the Steak platter, extra gravey. Babe?”


“Chicken Burger with fries.” You reply, because that seems simple enough. Just as Evan is about to write it down, Theo interrupts.


“You sure?” He asks, his voice casual but still implicit. He reaches under the table and tugs slightly at your love handles, and you go red. “Make it a Greek salad.”


Evan gives you a look, and you can see that the man is barely containing his disgust at your boyfriends actions. “Greek salad.” You confirm. Evan gives a slight nod, though he looks slightly troubled, before picking up the menus.


“Anything to drink?”


“Coke.” Theo replies distractedly, looking down at his phone.


“Ice tea.” You say, and Theo raises a brow. “Diet.” You quickly add, and are rewarded when Theo shoots you a dazzling smile which you can’t help but return, albeit hesitantly.


Evan nods and gives a beaming, fake smile. “Anything else?”


“No.” Theo says, but Evan doesn’t move. You look up and see that he’s waiting for your answer.


“No, thank you.” You smile, and Evan returns it. It looks a little more genuine, if a bit pitying and you quickly look away before Theo gets mad. Evan tell you two that the meal should take only 10 minutes, 20 at the most, before disappearing back into the hotel.


“I don’t like the way that guy was looking at you.” Theo says, and you clench your vista in your lap to help keep your composure. “Got no right to be looking at my girl like that.”


You can’t help but smile. Despite everything, Theo is very possessive of you, and it honestly makes you feel like he genuinely cares about losing you. It’s also the reason why you could never leave him. He made that pretty clear.


“I love you.” You say gently, and Theo smiles, reaching a hand across the table and taking yours.


“I love you too.” And his voice is too sincere to doubt. “I should ask for another waiter.”


“That’s-” You pause. “Isn’t that a little unnecessary?” You can see Theo’s eyes darken and fear tinges at your fingertips. “I mean, we came out here to have a good time. We don’t need any drama.”


“Course you’d say that.” He says, eyes still dark. You want to pull your hand away from his, but he’s got a tight grip on your wrists and it fucking *hurts*. “Bet you’re loving all this attention they’re giving you. The waiter, the Stilinski boy. You’re a little slut who’ll open her legs for anyone who asks nicely enough. Babe, you need to realise something. They only want you because they know they can’t have you. They’re just trying to challenge the Alpha Male - me, and I won’t let them think I’m weak just because you can’t keep your tits to yourself. Understood?”


You look down to hide the tears streaming over your cheeks. No reply comes from your mouth, because you know that it’ll be choked and wet and Theo absolutely hates seeing you cry.


“Answer me!” He slams your joint hands on the table and you wince. You look up and try to contain yourself when you speak.


“I understand.” Your voice is barely above a whisper and Theo smiles.


“Good.” He says. “Now wipe your face. You look like shit when you cry.”


***

You try your damnest not to make a sound as you open the front door with shaky hands. Despite your best efforts, you and Theo still got into a fight, and he showed you as much mercy as he had all previous nights.


The fight (which had been about Stiles, of all things) hadn’t lasted very long. You weren’t very edger to fight back, your guilt from your earlier interactions with the guy still weighing down heavily upon your chest. Theo had misread it, and seemed to think there was something going on between you and Stiles. Words were yelled and punches were thrown but you walked out of it okay. Safe for a mean looking bruise on you jaw, which would blossom into a deep purple mark tomorrow, and a few cuts and scrapes, you were untouched.


You knew, however, that despite this being one of the better nights, your injuries would not go unnoticed by Stiles or the Sheriff, which was why you had waited until all the lights were out to try and get in.


Without much thought, too tired and in too much pain, you push the door open and make a b-line for the kitchen. Immediately, you pull out a bag of something frozen and stick it on your cheek, rummaging through for some ice cream.


“What the fuck?”


You jump at the sound of the voice. Almost immediately, your hands fly to your face as a defence mechanism, but it isn’t necessary. It’s just Stiles.


Stiles, standing there in nothing but some black shorts with a baseball bat in his hands.


“Umm.” You say stupidly because the sight of Stiles’ abs has rendered you as such. Stiles drops the bat and walks towards you, looking concerned.


“What are you doing?” He asks as he walks to you, eyes brimming with worry. “It’s three in the fucking morning.”


“Ice cream.” You say lamely, but Stiles isn’t listening. His eyes are glued to the packed of frozen peas in your hand that you’re trying to hold against your jaw and wrists at the same time.


“What happened?” He asks, slowly pulling the bag of peas away. You prepare yourself for the look of disgust on his face when he sees the injury, so it’s very unexpected when he looks even more concerned.


“I fell.” You lie easy. Stiles doesn’t look away from your injuries, now choosing to inspect your wrists, which are bruised all round and is bleeding in a small area.


“I’m not stupid.” He says, and you’re shocked by the sincerity in his voice. “I know Theo did this to you. I know he’s the reason you’ve been coming home with bruises all month long. What I don’t know is why you haven’t said anything about it.”


You wince as Stiles prods your jaw gently. He looks contemplative, but eventually settled for sitting your down at the kitchen table. “Wait.” He says, then runs off. You resist the urge to scream.


This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one could know what Theo was doing because they could never understand. All they would do is judge you for not leaving, and give you pitying looks all the while thinking that you must’ve done something to deserve it. No one understood, least of all Stiles.


“Here.” You look up to see Stiles, hand stretched out with a bucket of ice. Confusion clouds your features and Stiles gives you a gentle smile. He puts the bucket down on the table and brings your right hand towards it, pushing it in.


It’s extremely cold but also soothing. You sigh gently as your wrist is finally given the attention it deserves. You’re about to thank Stiles before he leaves, only to find that he’s not leaving at all. He’s kneeling next to you and opening what looks to be a first aid kit.


“That’s not-” You try but Stiles silences you with a look.


“It’ll help.” He says. “I promise.”


The older boy opens a jar of sorts and the smell of herbs drifts to the air. He dips two fingers into the salve and gently brings them to your face, applying it to the spot with the utmost caution.


“It stinks.” He says. “But it’ll reduce the swelling. Give me your wrists.”


You oblige deftly, raising your bruised wrists from the tank of melting ice to where Stiles is kneeling half-naked next to you. He drys your wrists off with a kitchen towel before applying a rather thick layer of the salve onto your wrist, massaging it gently.


“Better?” He asks in a whisper as he stands, after five minutes of comfortable silence. Suddenly, you are pulled back into the real world and are faced with the truth. You had just shared this moment with Stiles, with the guy you had screamed that you hated at your boyfriend before he punched you in the face. Theo would be pissed, so fucking pissed, but you would deal with that tomorrow.


“Much.” You say, and make a move to stand, but you’re unsteady. You’re feet wobble in your brown heels and Stiles quickly wraps his arms around you, stabilizing your body before you fell.


“How bout something to eat?” He asks, “I mean, you could go to bed like this and all, but for some reason I don’t think you’ll wake up in the morning.”


“Bet you’d love that.” You say, feeling some of your wit returning. Stiles smiles.


“Nah.” He says. “Then who’s gonna be there to falsely accuse me of stealing moisturizer?” You laugh loudly and Stiles smiles. “Um, there’s a 24 hour pizza place a couple of minutes away. We could go there.” He suggest and you shrug, realizing how close you are. You pull back.


“Hey man, it’s your town.” You say and Stiles nods.


“Eddie’s it is, then.” The two of you stand but you hesitate, looking down at your outfit.


“Give me one second.” You say and run up the stairs into your bedroom. For a moment, you wonder if you should dress up but ultimately decide that it’s not worth it. You swap out your skirt and top for a pair of sweats and a baggie t-shirts, and your heels for your beat up converse. You grab your phone as you walk down, pulling your hair from it’s tangles and into a messy bun.


“I look like shit but who’s gonna see?” You ask when you walk back into the kitchen. Stiles looks at you laughs.


“You look beautiful.” He says, and grabs his car keys. You eyes widen.


“Aren’t you gonna put something on?” You ask as Stiles stand in front of you, still wearing nothing but a pair of black shorts. He shrugs.


“It’s hot.” He says simply, walking out the door. When you just stay right where you are with your mouth agape, he pops back inside. “You coming or what?”


“I’m gonna regret this,” You say as you follow him out the door, noticing that he left behind his baseball bat. As you walk out into the front yard, you see Stiles in his blue Jeep, looking far too excited for a midnight drive for pizza. “Yeah, I’m definitely gonna regret this.”


The ride to Eddie’s, as Stiles had called the place, is filled with stupid small talk and light arguments. (You think that Batman could win in a fight against Iron Man. Stiles strongly disagrees) The two of you listen to crappy music and Stiles sings along at the top of his voice, which you realize is actually pretty good, and you join him. Soon, the two of you are laughing after having belted out the final notes to Smashmouth’s 'I’m a Believer’ in the Eddie’s parking lot, while people look at you like you’re mad.


“Oh my God,” You say breathlessly, wiping the tears from your eyes as you clutch your stomach. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a worse butchering of a Shrek song in my life!”


Stiles laughs, loud and free, and it’s like music to your ears. “I think that guy in the ugly Mini would agree with that.” He says though a new burst of laughter and you look to your right to see a very disgruntled looking man in a piss green mini looking at the Jeep and it’s occupants like it was something he stepped in.


“Fuck off!” You scream through the window and throw the finger at him. The guy, despite probably bring in his mid twenties, looks positively insulted and immediately get in his car and leaves. Stiles bursts out laughing.


“You know,” he says. “Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch at the start we could’ve been friends much sooner.” He smirks when he says it, and you can feel Stiles’ eyes raking over your form.


“Friends?” You ask, keeping a sultry edge to your voice. “Is that what we are?”


Stiles smirks, and you take the moment to fully appreciate him. His skin is stretched taught over his muscles and you love the way the dim light of the parking lot reflects off of them, making him look all kinds of delicious. His whiskey eyes are dark with lust, and you notice the way his pupils are huge and a vein sticks out slightly from his neck. You want to lick it.


“Let’s go.” You say and promptly step out of the car, taking a deep breath. You really shouldn’t, not after Stiles had seen you so emotional and vulnerable, but you can’t help it. He’s a fucking babe, and you want nothing more than for him to pound you like there’s no tomorrow.


Stiles follows out after you and the two of you walk into the place together. You know you must look like a pair if drunk lovers, with your faces flushed and your attire being what it was, but right now you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.


He leads the way, taking you to a booth that’s on the edge in the centre of the Pizzeria. The place is mostly empty, safe for an elderly woman who’s out with her husband, giggling like teenagers. You grin at them. Stiles walks around like he knows the place well, and doesn’t even pick up a menus when he sits down.


A lovely middle aged woman walks up to you two a few minutes later, and you’ve decided on your order. The woman, Delores as her name tag tells, smiles broadly when she approaches.


“What’ll it be, sweetie?” She asks, sounding cheerful. Stiles turns to her, offended, and for a second you think he’s gonna yell before a broad grin swipes across the woman’s face.


“Sweetie?” He asks, “Lola I’m offended. Whatever happened to hottest ass in town?” You snort at that and the woman gives you a wink.


“Don’t worry babe. You’re still the sweetest piece of ass I know.” She says, laughing. “I just didn’t want your girlfriend over here to get jealous.” Stiles looks at you, grinning and licking his lips, looking all kinds of sexy and adorable.


“I’m not the jealous type.” You say and he laughs at that. The waitress, Lola as Stiles had so lovely called her, grins broadly. You and Stiles stare at each other from across the table, each challenging the other to look away first.


“Now now,” Lola interrupts. “No eye fucking just yet. Lemme first get you order.” You look away abruptly, going red and Lola laughs good-naturedly. “Okay, so usual for you?” She asks and Stiles nods. “And you, sweetie?”


“Give me the greasiest, most carb filled pizza that you guys make.” You say, looking at Stiles and wondering for a fleeting moment if he’ll object or look at you with disgust. Instead, he just raises an impressed eyebrow.


Lola laughs. “Your girl’s a keeper.” She says to Stiles.


“Damn right she is.” He replies, softer, looking deep into your eyes. There’s a moment where you know that you have a choice. You could correct him now, you could stop this by simply looking away or saying no, but you don’t.


“Best believe it.” You murmur, but by the way Stiles smirks slightly, you know he’s heard you. Lola offers you both two large milkshakes, she says it’s on the house but Stiles will pay for it anyway, and walks off, looking entirely too satisfied.


“I used to come here when I was little.” Stiles says, looking around the place. “My dad would drop me off here coz there wasn’t anyone at home and I was too small to stay by myself. Lola would babysit me, stuff me with junk food and all kinds of shit an eight year old wasn’t supposed to be eating. She’s practically family.”


You nod, smiling slightly. “She seems nice.” You say, then think again. “Wait, she seems really nice. Why is it that she likes you again?”


Stiles scoffs, offended. “I’ll have you know that I am perfectly likeable, thank you very much.”


You smirk. “Yeah, that’s why it took me a whole month to warm up to you.”


“No, no, see that’s different.” He’s smiling, oh so softly and it makes your insides flutter. “See, I had a plan with you. It was all set to schedule. If everything goes on track, you’ll be falling in love with me by the first day of summer.”


“Is that right now?” You asks, sitting up a little straighter. Stiles smirked slightly, and you know that he can see down your cleavage. “How’s that working out for you?”


He bites down on his plump lip before licking over it with his tongue. You want nothing more than to jump across the table and bite said tongue, but you refrain from doing so. “Great.” He says, leaning his forearms on the table. Suddenly, his face is right in front of yours and you can see the lust in his eyes. “In fact, I think tonight might be the night.”


“Oh really?” You ask, sounding disbelieving but the husk in your tone gives you away. “What makes you think that?”


Suddenly, Stiles is leaning over the table and pulling you in close, so that his mouth is just under your ear. “Because,” he says in a whispered rasp, “I’m doing this and you aren’t stopping me.” He sticks his tongue out and licks at the shell of your ear. You shudder, leaning forward as Stiles takes the lobe between his lips and sucks it gently. He trials his wet lips upwards and nibbles slightly at the top, and your hand reaches out holding on to his shoulder.


“Now, now,”


You jump back at the sudden voice and your heart pounds in your chest. Looking up, you see Lola staring at you with a watchful eye, but a smirk is playing at her lips. “This place is strictly PG. Understood?”


Stiles’ ears go slightly red, but his nipples are taught from your actions. You’re sure he’s sporting a bit of a boner. “Yes, ma'am.” He mumbles, thanking Lola when she places two large pizzas on the table.


The woman walks away, giving you an over exaggerated wink behind Stiles’ back and you smile slightly at her. “It’s a shame.” You say, pulling back a slice. “Now you have to walk outta here with a tent in your pants.”


Stiles gives you a look that says 'that was totally inappropriate but you’re too fucking hot for me to care’ as he too takes his first slice of pizza. You don’t know what he’s eating, but he licks sauce off his lips and all you can think about is licking it off his abs.


The rest dinner (or early breakfast) is spent mostly in silence, but you can’t help but look up every now and then. Stiles is staring at you with a fierce look in his eyes and it makes you want to jump his bones right there and then.


When he pays, the sexual tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. You can’t help but think of all those times where you were so mad and frustrated at him and wanted nothing more than to have him fuck you senseless.


Afterwards, you’re driving in the Jeep when you can’t take it any more. Stiles isn’t helping, looking unfairly sexy with nothing but a pair of shorts to cover his modesty, and brown, hunter eyes. When he pulls the car to a stop, you place a hand of his thigh.


“Yes?” He asks, smirking slightly. You just shrug, as if you don’t know what he’s thinking. Stiles doesn’t say anything as he presses down on the gas, eyes focused on the road.


Slowly, painstakingly so, your hand moves higher and higher. You can hear Stiles breath hitch when your nails scratch gently over the bulge that has formed in his pants, and you consider giving him what he wants, but realize it’s much more fun to tease. Your hands only graze over his covered cock before you move further up, dragging the smooth surface of your fingernails over his exposed abs.


Stiles outright moans when you run your fingertips over the muscles, and you see the way he gripped the steering wheels with white knuckles. *My turn,* you think as you unbuckle your seat belt and move forward.


With a hand still toying gentle with Stiles’ abs and happy trail, you shift closer and press your lips to a spot just under his ear. Stiles’ breath hitches in his throat and he stiffly changes gears. “What are you doing?” He asks, his voice full of lust.


“Giving you a taste of your own medicine.” Your voice is feather light and your lips brush teasingly over his ear as you speak. Stiles groans softly, and you take it as an okay. You mimick his earlier actions, licking wetly over the shell of his ear before biting down gently, enough to make the car swerve slightly. “Careful, babe.” You say, your voice sulty. You lick over the bitten spot again, blowing cool air over it and Stiles moans.


“Oh, fuck it.” He says, and suddenly he’s pulling over and parking the car on the side of the road. You take the opportunity, swinging your legs over so that you’re straddling his lap, unbuckling his safety belt.


His hands go to your hips when you begin to kiss down his neck. Stiles’ skin tastes like salt and vanilla and you suck down on it like a vacuum, determined to leave your mark. He lets you do as you please, something you’d never got from Theo, and tilts his head back to allow you more room.


You go left until you find that vein you’d seen earlier. It’s protruding loudly against his neck now, and fuck if it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. You press your tongue wide on it and lick from bottom to top, only stopping to nibble slightly on Stiles’ jaw.


His breath hitches, and he hesitates only a moment before taking control and crashing his lips to yours. He tastes like chocolate milkshake, you think absently as his lips devour your own and you wrap your arms around his neck. They feel amazingly soft and delicate, yet at the same time wild and demanding. You love every second of it.


His tongue pushes into your mouth and it’s all teeth and lips after that. The wet muscle strokes against your mouth expertly and you moan into him. Stiles smirks against your lips, forcing his tongue further down your throat until you’re sure there isn’t a place in your mouth that his tongue hasn’t touched. Unfortunately, the need for oxygen becomes to great to ignore and you pull away, breathing heavy.


“The things you do to me, baby.” He says, leaning his forehead against your own. You grind down on him, and are pleased to find that he’s hard and aching. Stiles moans at the touch and pulls you in for another kiss, his tongue shooting into your mouth before your lips have even touched.


His hands move slowly as they travel under your shirt and pull it up over your head. He throws it behind somewhere, but you can hardly give a fuck with Stiles’ eyes watching you like that. You’d opted to go braless when you went to change, and now with Stiles looking like a kid on Christmas, you were glad for it.


He leans down and quickly takes one nipple into his mouth, the other hand expertly cupping and toying with the other. Your hands move from his neck to his hair and you tug harshly at the strands when Stiles starts to suck noisily at your tits, making the sweetest of sounds. When he takes your nipple between his teeth and pulls back so your tit stretches out, you moan so loudly you have to stop yourself.


He gives the other breast the same treatment as his hands move downwards and toy with the waistband of your sweats. His skin is like lighting against your own and and your arch into him, loving it.


“You okay with this?” He asks, pulling away from you and looking up with the utmost sincerity. Despite the lust in his eyes, you know that if you ask him to, he’ll stop right here and now. It warms your heart, but right now you need to be fucked.


“Definitely.” You say and Stiles smirks. He pulls your pants and panties down in one go and immediately stuffs two fingers into your pussy, pumping wildly. He has to hold you tight at the small of your back to stop your from falling over with the intensity of his movements. You moan hotly and pull his face up, crashing your lips together and the car is filled with sweet clenching noises.


“You’re so wet for me.” He mumbles against you, sounding so utterly fucked out and sexy that you can’t help but moan again. You grind yourself against his bulge and Stiles moans loudly.


The hand at your back is gone and Stiles curles his fingers inside of your pussy, just as a his other hands’ thumb presses down hard on your clit. You come with a shout, clenching down on his fingers which are still moving rapidly inside of you. Your over sensitive nub is rubbed at again and you feel jolts of electricity shoot through.


Eventually you have to stop his hands as the pleasure becomes too much. He pulls his fingers out of you as you calm down and you look up, seeing your come on his digits.


Then, he does the most absurd thing. He sticks his fingers into his mouth and wipes them clean, looking you dead in the eye and smirking at your open mouth. His tongue swirls around the digits and he smirks through it, pulling them out clean.


“Fuck,” you say, then make a quick decision. Stiles isn’t expecting it when you suddenly drop to your knees and pull his shorts down, his errection springing up in front of your face. The pedals are digging into your back but you don’t care.


You eyes widened and your mouth waters at the sight of him. He’s big, bigger than you expected, but you know you can take the full thing. His thick cock is slightly veiny, and looks so damn tempting. You can’t help yourself when you immediately lean forward and wrap your lips around the tip.


Stiles moans loudly was you suckle his tip, hands automatically moving to your hair and pulling it out of its bun, only to then tangle his fingers in it. His nails dig into your scalp and you moan at the feeling, loving the way he forces you deeper and deeper.


You pull away and lick one long stripe from base to tip. He stops you from going back down. “Stick your tongue out, babe.” You do as you’re told, rogue hanging from your mouth. You moan loudly when Stiles slaps his dick on your wet tongue hard, holding your head in place with one hand. You open your mouth wider, loving the feel. “Oh, you like that don’t you?”


He forces you back down on his cock and you love how dominant he’s being. He guides your head non too gently along his member and you bob up and down, loving the taste of his skin and salty precum on your tongue. Then, his dick hits the back of your throat and you tighten around him. Stiles moans loudly, pulling you off.


He reaches down and fishes into the pockets of his shorts for his wallet. Fumbling only briefly, he pulls out a silver foiled packet and throws the wallet aside carelessly. You take the packet from his hands, just as he’s about to open it.


Looking into his eyes, you tear the packet open with your teeth and Stiles eyes widen. You smirk and roll the condom down his length and Stiles watches you with something akin to awe.


With one hand on your hip and the other on his cock, Stiles’ teases your entrance with his tip, rubbing it against your sensitive clit as you stand on your knees above him, legs spread wide. You moan as jolts of electricity shoot up your spine, but Stiles continues to watch you, not giving in.


“Please, Stiles.” You beg. The teenager smirks.


“Whatever you say, Princess.” Suddenly he slams into you in one thrust and you moan loudly against him. The thrusts up quickly, his dick slamming in and out of you at a brutal pace.


“My pretty little princess,” he whispers in your ear. “You love it when I fuck you like this, don’t you?” His hands move up your body and squeeze at your tits. “I bet you’ve been fantasizing about this for days. Thinking about what it would feel like to have my cock in you.”


“Yeah. Oh God yes.” You moan out desperately, nails raking down his back so hard, you’re sure it’ll leave marks. Stiles smirks.


“Tell me.” He says and you moan as he thrusts in deep, hitting that perfect spit inside of you.


“I get myself off to the thought of you fucking me.” You moan, fingers sliding into his hair. “I wanted you so badly. I thought of you when he fucked me. I knew you were better, bigger, could make me moan and come in ways he never could.” Stiles moans loudly and slams harshly into you. “I’ve thought about it all month. The first day I saw you, I wanted to get on my knees and blow you. Wanted to have your cum dripping down my face and tits. Wanted you to fuck me until yours is the only name I remember.”


“And now?” He breathes against you. “Now what do you want?”


“I want to come with you inside of me.” You say. “I wanna clench around your dick and make you lose control. Wanna through you over the edge and go down with you.”


Stiles moans loudly and reaches between your bodies, pressing down hand on your clit once more. Again, you come immediately, back arching, clenching hard around him as he thrusts wildly into you.


“I’m almost there, baby.” He moans, pulling your face forward and kissing you hard. It occurs to you that what your tasting is your own juices on Stiles’ lips and you moan against him.


“Come on,” you taunt. “Come for me, baby.” It takes two more thrusts before he pushes into you hard, spilling into the condom and dropping down on the car seat. The two of you stay like that for a moment, his dick softening inside of you.


Stiles pulls out and you move, going back into the passenger seat. Your pussy is raw from his fucking and you don’t really care how you look with your legs spread wide as cold air brushes over your centre. Stiles pulls out the condom and ties it up, throwing it out of the window.


“That’s nasty.” You tell him. He looks at you and laughs.


“You’re one to judge.” You flush red at that. Stiles laughs openly. “Do you really get off to the thought of me?”


You look at him and smirk. “All the fucking time.”

anonymous asked:

"Go then!! Leave!! See if I care!!" scenario between RFA members + MC :)

(i legit cracked my knuckles before starting to write bc I just KNOW this is going to be a long wall of text filled with angst boiiiii… ALSO this has a sorta happy ish ending bc…… my mood is too high up to write pure angst???? crushes can destroy a person rip)

((also I didn’t write V?? because I love him and honestly I can’t… squeeze my brain to get a clear image of what he’d do??? if I find a good and actually logical reaction, I’ll add him later on- but this is already super long and all-sorry!))

Yoosung

  • it’s hard for Yoosung to express his anger in a healthy way
  • he’d usually just play LOLOL and beat up monsters until he felt calm, but…
  • he can’t quite do that
  • MC had told him clearly:
  • he’s spending so much time on the game, it feels like MC is living alone
  • deep in his heart, he knows it’s true
  • with the increasing difficulty of classes, he just… naturally dove deeper and deeper into LOLOL
  • when he counted back, how much time had he spent with MC…?
  • had he even spent time with them in the past month?
  • it’s just when MC asks him for what seems like the hundredth time if he’s going to turn off the computer
  • it’s that what just sets off the stress
  • he really hates the anger he can feel bubbling up in him, but he can’t even avoid it
    • “Will you shut up?! I’ve answered you before! No! How hard can it be to understand?!”
  • it’s hard to tell who’s more shocked
  • him or MC
  • “What- what the fuck, Yoosung?! I’m just trying to spend some time with m boyfriend! Is it that wrong?! Would you rather just me leave?!”
  • he replies without thinking too much
  • his head is too full of anger led by stress
    • “Nothing is stopping you! The door is there for you to leave!”
  • he wasn’t shocked when MC ran out the room
  • he…. knew he’d acted like an asshole
  • what shocks him is the sound of the front door being slammed shut
  • he suddenly feels all the guilt washing up on him and he calls MC
  • no answer
  • he sits by the door for hours, but they don’t come
  • a week passes
  • every time he enters the chat they leave
  • his grades are dropping, he’s gaming for longer, and he can’t remember the last time he even ate a proper meal
  • he could have probably collapsed when the second week rolled around
  • living off cereal and random energy drinks he bought and gaming all day
  • it gets his mind off the trouble
  • when MC finally comes back, it’s more for concern about his health
  • at first he thinks he’s reached his limit. he’s hallucinating- stared too much at a screen and fried his brain. it can’t be. it can’t be MC. it’s a prank
  • MC scolds him- how could he let it get this bad? he could literally collapse and probably even die!- and also hugs him
  • both feel guilty, and Yoosung can’t even stop crying and apologizing as he hugs MC

Jaehee

  • little by little her stress builds up
  • this recipe didn’t come out like she wanted
  • too much work
  • her CD player broke
  • small things add up and up and don’t ever go down
  • it probably takes a full month before she’s at the limit
  • and it’s like a delicate sculpture- even the smallest touch could shatter her patience at this point
  • and that little touch just so happens to be delivered by MC
  • it’s a small mistake
  • just washing the dishes and accidentally breaking off a mug’s handle
    • “Gosh, sorry love, I’ll put this in the trash before one of us accidentally cuts themselves with the jagged end-”
  • Jaehee hears nothing
  • this has been the most stressful and tense month of her life AND NOW THIS HAPPENS, AT HOME, WHERE HER CALMNESS IS SUPPOSED TO BE-
    • “Are you stupid? How could you just break it like that?!”
  • She speaks oddly calmly for someone who was holding back stress and let it all loose at once
  • and it puts MC off
    • “I- it was an accident, Jahee- you’ve, this has happened to you before too,”
  • that just makes things worse
    • “Now it’s my fault?! I didn’t even touch the mug- stop shifting the blame onto me, specially if it was caused by your own clumsiness! Get ou- just, out!”
  • jaehee doesn’t know what she herself means with out
  • she half expects MC to get angry and shut themselves in the bedroom
  • or maybe shut themselves in the bathroom
  • she just needs to be alone and MC is in the kitchen- out, out out!
  • what she didn’t expect was for them to literally go out
  • they rush to the bedroom, and a few minutes later the front door creaks open and 
  • they’re gone
  • MC is gone
  • jaehee purses her lips once she realizes this, but she tries to stand strong
  • she was mean, and if MC need time alone too, that’s ok, right?
  • a day passes
  • two days
  • a week
  • MC is clearly alive- sometimes entering the chat to deliver an important message or so, but leaving quickly without even acknowledging her
  • for some reason, she can’t seem to throw herself into her work to avoid thinking- that’s how distressed she is
  • her work becomes slow and sluggish, and she can’t even seem to concentrate on basic tasks
  • it’s hard, but for one time- after so many tries- MC picks up the phone
  • after two weeks, she’s hearing their voice again
  • apologies are flying all over when MC walks in- she’s prepared food, MC’s favourite drink, and she fixed the mug with some superglue she found on the store
  • she can’t even express how much she needs MC, and fully accepts the fault for the situation, while asking MC to maybe… stay….

Zen

  • always a rumor going around about him
  • he knows it can’t be helped, but it bothers him
  • MC says they’re ok! it’s bound to happen!
  • but each time a new fake rumor springs up MC becomes…
  • more distant
  • one day in the couch, Zen feels so alone
  • when was the last time he and MC kissed? or even held hands??
  • why is MC like this?
  • upon asking, MC just seems to feel awkward and shrinks into the couch
    • “I trust you and love you, but… It’s just… Those rumors, they bring up so many evidence, and I… I feel… No, it’s rude to say it, sorry, I’ll… Go to bed now.”
  • is that
  • is MC implying they actually believe he’d cheat?
  • and usually this would prompt to him reassuring MC that he loves them, that he’d never do that
  • but it’s just… those tabloids and news have brought him and his manager so much stress lately, so much problems-
  • and now MC believes them?
  • he feels like he’s been punched in the stomach
    • “Wow, you trust those kinds of people more than me? Your actual boyfriend?”
  • MC turns around at this, and quickly tries to clean up what they said
  • they didn’t mean it like that
  • but seriously, the uncomfortable feeling that built up with each news article seems to lead up to MC spitting out another comment
    • “No, it’s just, I trust you! I… I guess those fishy news outlets and crappy tabloids are just simply amazing at photoshop and can make a photo where you’re kissing someone else that easy, huh?”
  • what the fuck
  • what the fuck
  • his blood is heating up, and he sucks in his breath
  • MC is accusing him of cheating
  • he hasn’t done anything to deserve this
  • to be fair, he did have some beers before, and earlier practice was crappy and his day had been pretty stressful- he did have a fair amount of stress on his shoulders that caused him to snap
    • “Well! With that amount of trust we’ve got here, maybe you’re the one smooching others when you’re out- because you clearly share so much trust, huh?!”
  • MC raises their voice to his level- somewhat shakier- but standing firm
    • “I’m trying so hard to trust you! So, so hard! But we can’t even hold hands in public- I can’t switch from being completely cold with you to being lovey dovey at home- I’m a human! Guess what?! That and those pictures do bother me! It’s actually! Kind of stressful!”
  • that’s his last straw
  • nothing in MC’s words particularly sets him off- maybe it’s the whole thing, maybe it’s nothing
    • “Get out of my sight! If you’re going to be like that, I’d rather be alone in this house!”
  • cue dead silence
  • both of them are clearly regretting their words- maybe not as much as they should, due to the boiling-hot blood pumping through their bodies
  • which probably causes MC to utter “fine” and slam the door as they leave
  • the first two days are hell, but Zen’s pride keeps him from trying to reach MC in the groupchat where they show up sometimes
  • a call they don’t answer, a message left in seen… his efforts to try and be level-headed are failing when it comes to apologizing
  • the second week, he’s desperate
  • he has received the worst critiques in his life about his acting by now- too stiff, out of character, spacing out in the middle of acting
  • and it’s that what prompts MC to go back after Jaehee worriedly begs them too
  • at first, when they unlock the door and go to where he’s sitting on the couch, it’s hard to find words
  • he hugs them out of reflex- god he missed them- and it’s time for MC and Zen to properly apologize before spending an hour on the couch muttering about how lonely and miserable they were without the other

Jumin

  • The argument is small at first
  • it’s about a little thing, nothing too big, and honestly, he can’t even remember what it was
  • he can’t even remember how it escalated like that
  • he remembers slowly getting more irritated with MC, voice ever so slowly growing in tone, frustration creeping up on him
  • he can’t really tell when the small argument became an actual argument
  • talking- if not almost screaming with loud tones- filled the penthouse
  • the guards were probably all incredibly scared, and in all honesty, they’d have the right
  • he wishes he hadn’t had so much wine before
  • all he knows is that when he woke up, MC wasn’t home
  • he felt panic. horrible, soul consuming panic- it was worse than when Elizabeth 3rd had gone missing
  • he calls Jaehee
    • “Deploy all my guards to comb the city for MC, look for any free ad space in big and noticeable places- if those are taken, offer a higher pay immediately- MC is missing, we need to find them right now, ask the design department to-”
  • a big sigh cuts him off
  • Jaehee can’t even understand what her boss is saying
  • his words are so fast and filled with panic they become a blur of sound
    • “MC is with me, Mr. Han. They seemed incredibly upset yesterday, and asked if they could stay. I… Have no business in asking you this sir, so I won’t, but if you and MC had a fight, it might be best to let them cool off for a while.”
  • those words feel somewhat like nails being laid on a coffin
  • he tries to communicate with MC to no avail- asking Jaehee to please relay a message to them is the only way to get anything to them, and even then, no reply comes
  • his work becomes a complete mess
  • his handwriting is incomprehensible, he shows up late to work, and his documents are full of errors
  • it’s so bad even Zen feels worried- which is a lot
  • the second the week ends, Jaehee knows this can’t go on and arranges for Jumin to meet MC at her place
  • even though he feels awkward and out of  place in his employee’s house (and probably so does Jaehee), the chance to talk and see MC is a certain yes
  • he brings so many gifts as apologies- anything and everything he saw that reminded him of MC, from clothes to electronics- and it almost is too overwhelming for them
  • apologizing isn’t that hard when he is pouring out words without a filter- a consequence of being away from MC so much and finally seeing them again

707

  • Work, work, work, work, emotional stress, work, work, becoming cold, work, isolating himself, work, work, more work-
  • if MC had to make a list of what Seven has done the past days, it’d be that
  • completely enveloped in his work, not taking care of himself, letting his mental state fall down to the trash
  • even when trying, MC can’t help-
  • everything they do puts him off and he acts colder
  • it feels like back then, huh…
  • it’s too hard to brush it off
  • Seven’s usually odd but quirky humour wasn’t permanent- MC knew so much, and they loved even the somewhat cold and depression-riddled person Seven became
  • but… even this was a bit too hard
  • it wasn’t just being cold- it was plain rudeness sometimes, to downright ignoring MC
    • “Am I bothering you now…?”
  • MC knew the answer they’d receive- cleaning up the trash around Seven,being in the room; all that probably bothered him in his mood
    • “Yes. Get out.”
  • pressing their lips firmly, they stood up and packed some bags
  • was it petty? … probably.
  • but maybe it was for the best- a couple weeks alone would probably be what Seven wanted, right? and maybe going out and taking their mind off things would be good for them too, no?
  • the first day, Seven has already riddled their phone with calls, begging for an answer
  • he’s regretting it. he’s feeling like shit
  • but MC can’t just return yet- even if they feel bad for Seven, they have feelings to, y’know? they need some time too
  • so turning off the phone, days fly by and the small wounds on MC’s soul heal up
  • but the overwhelming guilt of leaving Seven for so long is unbearable
  • it’s not that it was even planned, but Seven can easily find them,and finally decides to show up to the restaurant where MC was planning on eating that day
  • he looks… better, but also worse
  • he showered and dressed in fresh clothes, and that’s an improvement
  • but the circles under his eyes are darker than ever, and he looks so lost and sad that it hurts
  • it takes all his strenght to not simply hug MC then and there, and cry
  • at first, MC fears they made it worse- now that they left, Seven will be colder than ever, he’ll hate them-
  • but it’s not… that bad
  • he feels like crap, too; for making MC feel so alone like that, and for acting like a stranger- he gladly assumes part of the fault and hopes to keep going on with the relationship
(nonsexual) ways to make an age regressor happy

(this can apply to any age regressors as long as it’s nonsexual and real age regression,,,and these are just things I like. Most of these involve a carer/caregiver, but you can do some of these on your own.)

  • tie my shoes (because its hard for me to do it right)
  • give me stuffies as a gift
  • pour apple juice (or another favorite drink) into a sippy cup for me
  • hold my hand while walking in public (or not if you dont like pda (it doesnt even have to be romantic, platonic hand holding exists too))
  • cook me some kiddy foods (dino chicken nuggets, mac and cheese, pb and j (or just j if u have allergies)
  • ice cream and/or candy for dessert
  • watch my favorite shows with me
  • help me with my homework (school/college is hard :(
  • play with my hair or comb it
  • movie night! Probably going to watch Disney or Dreamworks or maybe even a Pokemon movie! And don’t forget popcorn and blankets and stuffies.
  • Kid-friendly video games like Pokemon, Kirby, Pet simulator games like Nintendogs, Mario
  • When we’re bored, we can color/draw
  • Play-doh/ Slime
  • Oh yeah did I mention we can make slime! There are several recipes out there! Some don’t even require Borax if you can’t get it….I don’t even know what Borax is…..
  • Kid-friendly youtube vids (cute cat/dog vids, vids about toys/slime)
  • Play pretend! We can pretend do be animals or superheros or princesses/princes 
  • Go to the playground. Who cares if I’m physically too old. I’m still a kid inside ^^
  • Play online dress up games
Need

Warnings; smut, slightly dominant!klaus etc.

Okay this is kind of long I’ve probably repeated the same words a few dozen time and made a ton of grammatical mistakes AND I use too many comma’s but this is my first time writing smut and like, third time writing anything at all really so maybe I get a free pass. P.s the intro is v boring so pls try to ignore that.Also, remember kids, consent it key.

Originally posted by lovershub

Y/N knew Klaus Mikaelson well. In fact, she knew him a little too well. It began the way things like this usually do. He was gorgeous- and he was interested. And Y/N never had been one to decline good sex. And god, was it good. He was rough and wild and dominant and she was deliriously addicted. And she hated it, that she needed him. She Hated the way he touched her, and the way he held her. But most of all, she hated how good it felt.

But the hybrid screwed up, out of force of habit, really. He said some things and broke other things, seething in irrational jealousy. When she asked him to get out of her sight, he did, but not without claiming that she would come running back to him. Three months later, she still hadn’t. And while Klaus had tried to change her mind quite a few times, she was adamant. And it was driving him mad.

So when he heard that Rebekah had invited her with them to another one of Marcel’s famous fundraisers, he knew he had to take advantage of it. He and Marcellus had already arrived at Y/N’s doorstep in a limo with half a dozen or so of his daywalkers when she stepped out her house, a vision in a salmon coloured satin cami dress and black heels, an encrusted choker adorning her neck. The driver got out and opened the door for her when she saw a certain hybrid waiting inside. ’Rebekah had to get to the party a little earlier than planned to handle some business. She sent us to pick you up, so let’s get on with it, shall we?’ He spoke smugly, his calculating eyes taking her in. She stared him down coldly before stepping into the limo to find a place to sit down, when marcel spoke up. ’right, about that- we had a slight miscalculation when guessing if everyone would be able to fit in this thing. So you’re gonna have to sit on someone’s lap.’

‘You’re kidding me right?’ Y/N asked, dumbfounded. ‘unfortunately not, darling.’ Klaus mused. ‘I volunteer’ hooted one of marcels vampires, wolf whistling but he shut up when both Klaus and Y/N  glared at him. Klaus then looked back at Y/N. ’come on love, are you afraid you won’t be able to contain yourself?’ He smirked, knowing she wouldn’t refuse a chance to prove him wrong. Y/N huffed as she gave up and seated herself on Klaus’s lap. Then she leaned back against his neck, her hot breath fanning his ear. ‘I hate you.’ she whispered. Klaus just smiled as he passed her a glass of champagne. ‘sure you do, love’

A few minutes into the ride Y/N had been introduced to everyone and was enjoying the music and conversation when she felt Klaus’s hand graze her knee. It travelled up from her lower thigh to come to rest on the seam of her dress and he could feel her skin tensing under his touch. ‘Anything the problem love? You seem quite… tense’ he whispered, smirking. ‘Not at all. I’m fine’ she replied coolly, while reaching up to grab his hand. She shifted in his lap, slowly grinding her backside on him. With everyone busy clinking their glasses against each other’s, no one seemed to notice. ‘what about you, are you alright?’ she spoke, a wicked smile on her face as she traced the back of his hand with her fingers while her other hand reached to rest on his knee.She could feel him pressing against her rear, His member hardening at her actions. She looked back at him, pleased with herself. Klaus stared back at her, his lips pressed together and eyes clouded with lust. ‘Y/N, love, what do you think you are doing?’ he asked, his voice coarse. ‘just finishing what you started’ she replied, feigning innocence as she shifted again to press her derriere against his manhood. Klaus let out a low growl, placing his hands firmly on her hips while leaning down to press his lips on the base of her neck and working his way upwards. He nibbled at the rim of her ear, sending shivers down her body. ‘I knew you’d come back for more’ He murmurs in her ear, proud of his accomplishment. ‘you just can’t seem to stay away..’ He continued

Y/N suddenly jerked her body away from the hybrid, taking in heavy breaths to ground herself. ‘fuck.’ She sighed, running her hands through her hair just as the limo slowed to a stop. She turned to look at a confused Klaus. ‘You almost had me there. Almost.’ she stated as the driver opens the door and she gets out. Still slightly surprised by the swift change of events, Klaus follows her through the gates of the party but she soon disappears into the crowd, leaving him angry and frustrated. He scans the masses of sweating, huddled bodies to find her dancing carelessly with another man while she downs yet another glass of champagne. Jealousy seething through him, he grabs the first woman the comes at him, attacking her neck with sloppy kisses while making sure Y/N notices. She does. But jealousy has never been her game. Her attention is more focused on the gentleman with his arms around her waist head in the crook of her neck. 15 or more minutes of the torturous attempts to guile Y/N to him, Klaus gives up. He drags the girl at his arm to a dark corner and compels her to be quiet while he bites into her neck, drinking from her while her body struggles to push him off. When he’s had his fill, He drops her on the ground, knowing Marcel’s minions would take care of it. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve, not bothering to clean up and steps back into the raving party just in time to see Y/N leaving with some man through the back door, her lips on his, his hands roaming around her body. Anger boiled up in his body as he tears through the lumps of people to the opposite side on the room where Y/N was. He opens the door, which lets out into some back alley, to find Y/N pressed up against a wall, with another man’s lips on hers, hands wandering her gripping her waist. Now fuming, Klaus flew in a rage towards the fellow, pulling him off of her. ‘what the fuck, man-’ He started as Klaus shut him up, veins under his eyes as he compelled him ‘Leave.’ He growled.

Y/N stood back, shocked. ‘what in the hell do you think you’re doing, Klaus?’ she spat, bringing her hand up to comb through her now messy hair. Klaus approached her, his stance atrocious as he grabbed her by the throat. ‘leave him be, love..’ he hummed. ‘we both know I can take care of you in ways that a human like him cannot even grasp..’ he mumbled against her neck, leaving stray kisses up and down her throat. ‘N-Nik..’ Y/N mumbled, barely audible to human ears with the loud music blaring in the background. ‘what is it,love? Do you want me to stop?’ He grinned, gratified by the effect he had on her. ‘yes.’ She stated firmly, but the moan escaping her lips in the end stated otherwise. ‘get off of me’ she whispered feebly, pressing her palms against his chest to drive him off her. He pushed her back against the brick wall, continuing his advances on her, his lips wandering lower still and his free hand slipping under her dress. Y/N sighed lightly in pleasure, Her body rebelling against her instincts. He placed butterfly kisses on the top of her breasts, the hand on her throat leaving to slip off her dress strap and then going right back to her throat. He trailed kisses along the valley of her breasts, nipping and sucking at her flesh. Y/N was a hot mess by now, melting into his very touch, writhing and moaning. ‘Klaus.. don’t..I-ugh, fuck.’ Klaus came back up to face her. ‘ you can rave and push me off all you want, love, but we both know I am the only one who can please you like you need it.’ She looked at him. A lamp lit up the otherwise dark alley, yellow shadows falling on his lashes, the bridge of his nose, his lips. He was beautiful. ‘you need to be shown your place, you need to be dominated.’ He said, his lips dangerously close to hers. ‘ so admit it, Y/N or I can leave you here, flustered, aroused.’ He whispered, hot air leaving his lips and hitting hers. She struggles to get words out of her mouth, her breath stuck in her throat. ‘I need you’  she uttered, and Klaus’ mouth turned into a lopsided grin. ‘good.’ He whispered, before placing his lips on hers, traces of blood still left on them for Y/n to taste. His hand strayed to the back of her head, grabbing her by the hair, continuing to kiss her until she couldn’t breathe. ‘I knew you’d come around, pet ‘ He whispered

His teeth nipping at her jaw, making goose bumps rise all over her skin. His other hand hiking her dress up past her hips and then reaching back to grab her ass. He then let go of her hair, bringing his hand down to cup her tits and he worked teasingly on her collar bone, no doubt leaving hickeys to mark her as his. His rolled her left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, while taking the other in his mouth. Y/N moaned in pleasure, arching her back to grind on his mouth. Klaus’ right hand brushed against her inner thighs, then back to the waistband of her panties. He hooked his fingers around her the soft material, pulling them down in one swift motion. His fingers slowly, teasingly rubbed her pussy lips, his middle finger slipping between her folds to graze against her clit Klaus let go of her breasts, receiving whimpers of complaint from Y/N, which soon stopped as he knelt on the ground, littering chaste kisses all over her inner thighs. ‘mmhfh’ Y/n groaned, pushing her hips towards his face. ‘Klaus, please’ she begged. Klaus growled, grabbing her by the hips. ‘patience, love.’ He stated, as he placed his tongue on her aching core, sucking softly and spots he knew made her weak. Y/n let out stray sounds of pleasure, unable to contain herself as he continued to alternate between kitten licking and sucking on her clit. She had missed this, his mouth on her. She had missed him. He slurped at her pussy, lapping up her juices, his right hand reaching down to rub lightly on her clit while he fucked her with his tongue. Strangled words left her mouth ‘Oh, oh my god, nik’ she cried out. Klaus then withdrew his mouth from her vulva, earning a groan of dismay from Y/n, but she dare not question him. He got up, his fingers still working on her clit and leaned in to kiss her, so she could taste herself.

Y/n got bold herself, undoing the buttons on his shirt and sliding her hands on his toned torso. He kept rubbing lightly on her swollen nub as she undid his belt and pants. Klaus’ manhood strained against his boxers as Y/n stroked him through them with one hand, the other resting on his waist. She slipped her hand under the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down, pumping his length rhythmically. Klaus, now growing impatient, hooked one arm around Y/n’s waist as the other lifted the her leg, prompting her to wrap both legs around his waist as he entered her. ‘fuck’ she groaned, as he filled her up, stretching her walls as she wrapped her arms around his neck for support. Klaus started with steady thrusts while attacking her neck and throat with his mouth, making her feel hot all over. She could feel her nipples harden against the fabric of her dress as she let out desperate moans of pleasure with each thrust. Y/n threw her head back, giving easier access to Klaus while grinding into his body. ‘you feel so fucking good’ she cried, squeezing her eyes shut. Klaus grunted in reply, biting at her skin, making her clench around him. She tangled her fingers in Klaus’ hair. ‘I’m- I’m so fucking close i-‘ she pulled at the blonde, curly strands in between her fingers. Klaus then pulled out of her almost completely, sliding his tip on her slit before thrusting his cock back inside her, bringing his hips to meet hers. He continued the torturous actions until Y/n couldn’t take it anymore. ‘ Klaus, please.’ ‘please what, sweetheart?’ he spoke, the smug smirk still on his lips as sweat beaded his forehead. ‘please, go faster and deeper and i- shit’ she gasped, as he thrusted roughly into her again. ‘you’re so pretty when you’re begging, love’ he said, making you bite your lip. He hit a certain spot inside you and you inhaled sharply, her nails digging into his shoulders and back arching into him. ‘right there?’ he asked, his tone breathless, but still smug. She nodded your head rapidly, unable to make a sound. she pulled him in for a deep, desperate kiss, as he held on tighter to your waist, steading himself as he pumped into her at a faster pace to bring them both closer to orgasm. They both moaned into the kiss, and Y/n felt Klaus twitch inside her when she felt her own toes curl, before releasing into waves of pleasure and bliss, as he did the same, inside her. They both pant, breathless, pulling away from each other as their moans die down. Still out of breath, Y/n leans her head back into the wall before looking back at Klaus again. ‘I still hate you.’ She whispers. Klaus smirks at her.

“Rum & Coconuts” - h.s Part 3

Part 1 / Part 2

—–

—–

You woke up to the feeling of the breeze blowing over your body and stretched out on the bed to find yourself alone. Sitting up and fighting your hair out of your face, you could see the top of Harry’s head over the back of one of the lounge chairs on your small deck through one of the blowing curtains. 

Pulling on a tank top over your thong, you meandered in his direction and walked around the seat to see him sitting with his legs crossed, swim trunks on, and sunglasses perched on his nose. When he noticed you, he smiled widely and closed his journal, tossing it onto the chair beside him and reaching his arms out as you sunk down next to him and curled up at his side.

“Good morning angel,” he mumbled against your hair, wrapped his arms around you as you both watched the sun continue to rise. “Sleep well?”

“I drank a lot last night,” you mumbled.

“You did,” Harry chuckled, “But you had a great time and learned many new dance moves.”

You both sat there quiet as Harry ran his fingers through your hair and you played with the end of his swim trunks, just watching as the sun shone brightly from behind your sunglasses. 

Keep reading

Jealousy Suits You. (Harry Potter Imagine)

Request: Hey hi! could i request smth? A harry potter x reader like they get in an argument & she raises her hand to hit/slap him but he catches her arm, backs her to a wall and whisper, “wanna try that again, sweetheart?” thank you!! from @friceaurelia07

I feel like I always say this, but it has been a while… Please excuse my absence from writing imagines.

Also, jealousy is fun to write about but I don’t necessarily know how to … like write about it… So I just made the reader mad at something so stupid. I hope you don’t mind…

Requests are open! (just bear with me)

I hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by miones

You and Hermione were walking to The Great Hall with your books in your hands. The two of you were in a playful debate about which of your favorite novels were the best. “Well, ‘Mione, The Great Gatsby a great novel and all, but it’s not my type.” 

As the two of you neared your group of friends, you felt a frown form on your face. Ginny had taken your usual spot next to your boyfriend, Harry, and had been ruffling his hair, giggling. “Oh, (Y/N), you know she means well.” Hermione whispered as you picked up your pace and plopped yourself in between the two.

“Good morning, love.” Harry greeted, leaning in to kiss your lips before you moved your head, making him kiss your cheek instead. 

“Hello, Potter.” You said in an emotionless tone. “Don’t you have some place to be, Ginny? Don’t you have a bedtime?” 

“Don’t you? You’re just a year older, (Y/N).” Ginny said, raising her eyebrows. 

“Ginny, why don’t we go for a walk, yeah?” Hermione piped up. “The sun’s setting. I’d love to compare the sky to your hair. Let’s see if the colors would… um… match.” She got up and pulled the younger witch away. 

Ron pretended to yawn and said his farewells to you and Harry, not wanting to be in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel. Harry began to put away his parchment and his quill. “You don’t have to be so rude to Ginny, love. She’s just a kid. She has crushes, let it be.” 

“So when I see another girl practically all over you, you expect me to just sit there with a smile on my face and let her?” You said, standing up when he did. Draco and his posse all smirking, hearing the two of you argue. 

“Watch out, lovers’ quarrel!” Draco hollered as you and Harry walked out. 

The two of you stopped in an empty hallway. “I’m not saying you have to just let it happen. All I’m saying is that you should trust me enough to let me handle it.” Harry explained as he reached over to hold your hand but you yanked it away.

“I do trust you, Harry. But from what I saw back there, you weren’t even trying to stop her. It was like you enjoyed her hands in your hair!” You exclaimed, your voice bouncing against the walls. 

“What if I did? It feels nice to have someone comb through your hair, you know!” Harry yelled back, putting his things down and instantly regretting it. “That is not what I meant, (Y/N). Don’t be mad, love!” 

“If you want someone to comb through your hair, then call me, not Ginny! I can’t believe you would. You are so- ugh!” You said, beginning to walk away but he grabbed onto your wrist to stop you. 

“Harry James Potter, if you do not let go of me this instant!” You screamed, bringing your freehand up, readying to slap him, but he caught it and backed you into the wall.

“Wanna try that again, sweetheart?” He whispered, looking into your eyes through his glasses. You stood there frozen but then Harry pressed his lips to yours and you felt as if you were thawing. He pulled away first and then smiling down at you. “You know, (Y/N), Jealousy Suits You.” 


I’M SO SORRY IF IT SUCKS. IT’S BEEN A WHILE SINCE I’VE WRITTEN AN IMAGINE!!!!!

Intoxicated

Jughead x reader

In which the reader gets drunk after an argument with Jughead, and he has to look after her.

Warnings: drinking

*requested*


“You will fail this class if you don’t get your grade up, do you understand that?” My teacher asked me, and I rubbed my face, feeling a headache coming on.

“Yes, I understand. I’ll try harder.” I told him. He excused me and I traipsed through the hallway, running through the seemingly endless list of things I had to do. I had signed up for too many advanced classes and extra curriculars, and I was swamped.

I had to talk to two other teachers and catch up on a project, before I could finally go and meet my boyfriend, and hopefully get something to eat. Unfortunately, this did not go to plan. I knew as soon as I walked into the room that Jughead was angry with me. He saw me enter and was immediately on his feet and walking towards me, seething. I stopped in my tracks and desperately tried to rack my brains for whatever I had done.

“Where were you?” He demanded, and I floundered under his gaze, combing through my calendar in my mind to remember what I had missed. I stuttered, and he shook his head disbelievingly. “You don’t even remember what you missed, do you?” He asked. I opened my mouth, but the answer didn’t come to me.

“Um… Was it…” I started helplessly, but couldn’t finish. He looked away from me.

“You know what, it doesn’t matter.” He began to turn away from me, but I desperately ran around him, blocking his exit.

“No, Jughead, please… I’m sorry, I’ve been so caught up in my work. Just tell me what it was, please.” I begged him, holding my hands out to stop him from leaving. He sighed.

“My presentation. You were going to practice it with me before the lesson.”

My stomach dropped as I remembered. Jughead had been so nervous for it, and had only calmed down when I promised to rehearse it with him and help him. I closed my eyes, hitting myself for forgetting something so important to him.

“Jug, I am so-“

“I had to do it without you, Y/N. You promised you’d help me.” He said angrily.

“I know, I know I did. I had to talk to my teachers and I just got caught up.” I tried to explain myself.

‘Yeah you said.” He snapped. “Look, you’re my girlfriend, and I only trusted you to practice it with me. I needed you, and you weren’t there.” My breath caught in my throat at his words. He was right.

“Jughead…” I started, but didn’t know what to say.

“Whatever.” He muttered, pushing past me. “See you.” And with that he was gone. I stared at the space he had left, berating myself. I sighed, picking my bag up and walking to my next lesson. All through the class, I reprimanded myself over and over, wishing I had done today differently.

After school, I saw him leaving and wanted to catch up with him, but I had to go to a tutoring session. I watched helplessly as he walked away from me again, wondering how I would make it up to him.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how I could have done things differently. I could have set an alarm on my phone, or just been more organized, and Jughead and I would probably be together right now. The stress of the argument with Jughead and my workload, as well as my general anxiety built up when I got home, and I had to forget, so I took a bottle from my parent’s cupboard and started drinking. I didn’t know what it was, but it burnt my throat, made my eyes water, and worked quickly.

I grew flustered and warm, the alcohol and my thoughts overwhelming me, and so I walked into my dark backyard, letting the cold air float over me. I sat on the icy stone steps of my garden and tried to drink my reality away as the sky darkened. It didn’t take a lot of alcohol for me to start crying. I raised my hand to my forehead, clenching my teeth. How could I have done this to Jughead? He had been there for me so many times, and I let him down. I continued drinking, drowning in my guilt and misery. My self-deprecation reached a climax as I vividly replayed the day’s events in my head, Jughead’s words running over and over in my head.

You promised

I needed you and you weren’t there

You weren’t there

You weren’t there

You weren’t there

The late-night air grew freezing, but the hot liquid inside my body made me unaware of my numb appendages and chattering teeth. That was until my trembling fingers failed to properly grasp the neck of the bottle, and it slipped out of my grasp and onto the dark stone. It shattered violently and glass flew everywhere, startling me and snapping me out of my thoughts. I opened my mouth, my eyes wide at the amber liquid spreading out across the steps. I felt a sharp pain in my hand and looked down to find a small piece of glass caught in my skin, with a trail of blood leaking out. I pulled it out without thinking, ignoring the pain as I struggled to stand. I needed to talk to him. I needed to apologise. I jumped up and ran up the steps, stumbling when I reached the top. My head felt hollow and I think my hand was still bleeding but I couldn’t tell. Find Jughead.

I found myself at the drive in, where I knew he’d be. I blundered towards the door of the screening room. I was sober enough to know that I was drunk, but my thoughts weren’t clear.

I knocked anxiously on the door, leaning against the wall and feeling utterly desperate. After a few moments, the door swung open and there Jughead was, in all his glory. His hair was a mess and he was in sweatpants, his feet bare and his eyes tired. As I soon as I saw him, the floodgates opened. In my intoxicated state I began desperately rambling and crying at the same time.

“Jughead, oh my god, I had to find you, because- because I need to talk to you. I’m so sorry, I’m an idiot, and I hate myself and I don’t even know what time it is, but I messed up and I have to fix it.” Hot tears were streaming down my face, and I was struggling to take breaths between what I was saying. His eyes were wide, and he opened his mouth to say something but I couldn’t stop talking. “I was so, so stupid to forget about your thing, your presentation, I wish I hadn’t done that, and I just really need you to listen to me and I need you to forgive me. I’m an idiot, and I hate myself but I need you.” I stopped talking and continued crying, vaguely aware that most of what I had just said had been unintelligible.

“Okay, okay.” Jughead’s calm voice broke through my stupor as he grabbed my arms and pulled me inside. He pushed me gently onto his bed and kneeled in front of me. I tried to calm myself down but I couldn’t seem to slow my breathing.

“Are you drunk?” He asked me in a deliberate way, as if he already very well that I was. I didn’t answer but just stared at the floor, my breaths uneven. He sighed, standing up and moving around the small room. He came back with a glass of water and put it in my hand, making sure my fingers were tightly grasped around it before he let go.

“Hey, what happened to your hand?” He caught my hand gently and brought it towards him, studying the cut and frowning. He looked up at me, but I just shrugged helplessly, unable to answer him. He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I’ll get something for that, just… drink this.” He sounded disappointed, and I was reminded of how much he was supposed to hate me at that moment. I threw back the water, downing it in the hopes that it would stop how I was feeling. I set the empty glass down and put my head in my hands, feeling sick and dizzy all of a sudden.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how I had let Jughead down, and tears began to slip down my face again, my whole body shaking. I heard him exhale as he sat down next to me on the single bed.

“Y/N.” I screwed my eyes shut, trying to shut him, and everything else I was feeling out. “Y/N.” He said louder, and I looked up at him, sniffing. He held up what looked like a bandage. “Give me your hand.”

I held my arm towards him and he delicately took my hand in his own. I watched him as he cleaned it, but he didn’t look up at me once, keeping his eyes on what he was doing. I didn’t even wince as he poured alcohol on it, the burning sensation nothing compared to the pain in my head. He finished, gently pressing a bandage onto the cut and making sure it was stuck down properly before finally looking up at me. I left my hand in his as he stared at me, his light eyes studying my face before meeting mine. I took a deep breath, determined to make him hear me this time.

“Jughead.” I tried to force the whirlwind of thoughts in my head into coherent sentences. “I am so sorry.” My lip shook and tears built in my eyes again. “I let you down, and I have no excuse. You… you needed me and I wasn’t there.” A tear slipped from my eye and rolled down my cheek. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” I looked him in the eye, trying to get across how serious I was. There was quiet for a moment as he looked at me, nodding his head ever so slightly. He was still holding my injured hand, and started lightly rubbing my knuckles with his thumb as he smiled tenderly at me.

“It’s okay.” He whispered, and I took a sharp breath in. I briefly wondered if I had misheard him.

“Are you sure?” I asked unsurely, my eyes wide. He chuckled quietly.

“I’m sure.” An emotional smile spread across my face at his words, and I gripped his hand tightly as tears continued to run down my face. I desperately attempted to wipe them away with my other hand, but to no avail. He shook his head at me, smiling.

“Come here.” He murmured, moving his hand from mine to reach for me. He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine, his hand on the back of my neck. I put my hands on his chest and relished the feeling of being close to him. When we separated, I leant into him automatically and he put his arm around me. He shifted his body along the small bed, leaning back and bringing me with him so we were lying down, me against his chest. We lay silently as I listened to his heartbeat and tried to calm myself down. He began softly playing with my fingers, being careful to avoid my wound.

“What did you do to yourself, hm?” His lips ghosted my forehead as he whispered the question to himself. “I never wanted this.” I closed my eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry.” His chest vibrated underneath me slightly as he laughed softly, and it brought an instinctive sleepy smile to my face.

“I think you’ve said that enough for one night.” My face was pressed against his body in the quiet room, and I felt my senses numb as my head grew heavy and my breathing slowed. He might’ve said something else after that, but I wouldn’t have known, as I slipped into a drunken, emotionally-exhausted sleep. I knew I would feel like death in the morning, but it didn’t matter. I had him, and I wasn’t going to let him go again.


a sad drunk

aaaa this was fun to write (it’s really bad though sorry)

btw in this imagine Jughead is still living at the drive in, because I thought it worked better than Archie’s house 

Caught White Handed- (Matt Murdock X Reader Smut)

Words: 3,300

Summary: Reader is more ready to go than a dog in heat. She pleasures herself but after getting drunk, things go to a whole new level.

Warnings: THIS IS PURE FILTH. Masturbation, oral, sex, alcohol, erotica, many mentions of horniness.

Author’s Note: Writing this has been a spiritual journey. This is pure sin, and I have gone last the need for holy water. I’d appreciate if some of you guys asked for fluff now. Anyways, enjoy!


You sighed as you sat there in your chair, swiveling. Never did you think you’d see the day in Hell’s Kitchen that there’d be no pictures to take, no crime scenes to manage, but it did.

You worked at the police station in town and it was your job to take pictures of the crime scenes. Seeing blood and violence twelve hours a day usually was all you did before you went home and passed out in bed.

Only, that day there was nothing to look at. You were surprised with how long you had withstood the boredom, ten and a half hours. Just half an hour and a half more until you got off. So while spinning in your chair, you decided to make a phone call. You hummed the numbers to yourself and typed them on your phone. It rung and rung until you heard that all so familiar voice. “It’s Foggy Nelson of Nelson and Murdock, I can’t get to the phone right now, leave a message.” Beep.

You sighed, “Hey Fogs, I was wondering if you’d want to meet up at Josie’s tonight with the others. If you’re coming, don’t even bother to call back. See you soon.”

You dialed another number but only got the same result. “It’s Karen Page, I’m probably at work right now but leave a message after the beep.” Beep.

“Hey Karen, my gal pal, I was wondering if you wanna meet up at Josie’s tonight. If I don’t hear back from you, I’m gonna suppose you’ll be there. See ya.”

With a groan, you called up the phone of the third of the Musketeers. It wouldn’t stop ringing so you were pulling your phone away from your ear, ready to hang up until you heard, “hello?”

You threw the phone back up towards your ear and smiled. “Hey Matt, I wasn’t expecting you to pick up. Karen nor Fogs did.”

He chuckled. “They’re probably hanging out again, we got off early today. How about you?”

Matt could hear you groan over the phone and he did his best to hold back a chuckle as you answered. “I’m in hell and my throne is a spinning computer chair. That’s why I was seeing if you guys would wanna go to Josie’s later, a drink sounds nice.”

“Sure, what time? Nine?”

You nodded by reflex but then realized Matt couldn’t see you then (not like he could if you were in person either). “Oh, um, yeah. Nine is good.”

Suddenly you heard him burst out into a small fit of laughter. “You nodded, didn’t you?”

You felt your cheeks grow red from the accusation. “No! How dare you insinuate such a thing?” You paused a second before pausing, giving a weak giggle, “okay fine, I did.”

You heard him laugh one more time before he said bye. Once again the office was quiet. Only an hour and fifteen more minutes you told yourself. What could you do to pass the time? Your eyes flickered to the small thing in your purse. Reading to pass the time sounded nice. Yet, the kind of book it was made you worry. Reading an erotica in the office probably wasn’t the best idea.

You spun in your chair again, until you felt like you’d fall over even while sitting down, and growled, “screw it.”

Seconds later the book was snatched up from your purse and opened to the nearest page. And with hungry eyes, and ovaries , you read on.

“There he was in the doorway, standing there as he watched her pleasure herself. She was facing away, moonlight casting a glow on her skin, a thin sheet of sweat covering her body. He could see her arm twitching, he could hear the sound of her fingers plunging in and out of her soaking wet core.

"Most of all he could hear those wonderful sounds of ecstasy coming from her lips. He tried to remember back to what lipstick she wore that day, a lovely wine color, he remembered.”

You didn’t know when exactly it had happened, but you found your hand on your thigh, your legs apart, and yourself heaving. It had been a long time since you had been in the bedroom, and every day you were getting more desperate. More desperate for a certain guy at that.

Whenever you read the book in your shaking hand, you imagined him. The guy you wanted to get into your pants. His puppy dog eyes, even though they were usually covered by glasses, those full, pink lips, his nicely combed hair that you just wanted to run your fingers through, the short stubble across his face, those large, rough hands, all of them just turned you to putty.

You sighed as you continued to read the book.

“He watched on and noticed the light shake of her legs. She’s close, he told himself. He wanted to wait until she was done, just strip for her then and there, but instead he silently shut the door behind him before letting his pants and boxers drop to the floor. He sat there, his thumb rubbing over his tip as he silenced a moan. He could feel the warm of precum on his fingers as he began to stop teasing the tip, but to instead begin to drag his hand up and down along his shaft.

"The girl on the bed was climaxing yet her hand wouldn’t stop. ‘Oh God!’ Yet she still continued, her core aching as it released but she still wouldn’t stop. It felt too good to stop.

"Then her limbs fell back tirelessly on the bed as a warmth leaked out of her, and she knew that she would stain the sheets.”

You were breathless as your hand was no longer outside of your pants but in them. You had locked your office door and the room was soundproof but you still tried to stay as quiet as possible.

Your middle finger was feeling around, just trying to find the perfect spot for your clit. Once you had hit it, you gave one of the most pornographic noises possible and began to massage it, making the pleasure last, but it wasn’t enough. Suddenly your fingers began to go harder, faster, until finally it was getting hard to keep your hand there. You could feel as you throbbed from releasing, but you didn’t want it to end either.

So you continued. You kept that fast pace, resisting the urge to yell or moan or groan or do anything as you released twice more. You slumped in your chair, feeling your panties filled, and gave a sigh. You sat there and looked over to your phone on the desk. Only a matter of fifteen minutes had passed. You still had another hour.

So, for an hour you read. For an hour your legs shook with every new climax. For an hour, your hand hurt, wanting to stop, but your wet core didn’t.

You were out the door and into your car soon as it struck seven. Your impure hand gripped around the tire, the fake leather putting ideas into your head that you’d never admit.

You began to drive, every bump or harsh turn led to feeling the juices of your climaxes slosh against you. I really need a shower, you thought.

You found yourself at your apartment, one of the safer areas in Hell’s Kitchen, although to be frank, no area there was really safe.

You had an hour and fifteen minutes to be ready and meet up at Josie’s. You could take your time in the shower, but even then half an hour wouldn’t pass. You debated, you could take a normal shower, or do a bit more. It was a hard choice. You were already aching a bit from earlier but hot water would help the soreness you told yourself.

So, you found yourself twisting two old handles until short bursts of water pellets released. You stood there, completely nude with cum running down your leg as you waited for the water to run consistently and for it to warm up.

You gave a sigh of pure relaxation as you stepped into the shower. You could already feel yourself being cleansed, but not well enough. You slowly, yet gently, pulled the shower head off the wall and spread your legs. You let the hot water hit you, hit your clit and your folds.

“Oh God,” you mewled. It was surely cleaning you out, but maybe doing a little more than that. Suddenly, your hand could itself slick in your juices, two fingers pumping in and out as you began to focus the water onto your clit.

It only took moments before your legs were shaking as another orgasm, the most powerful one yet, had racked your body and left it feeling like a hand was wrapped around your throat. You immediately took your hand out of yourself and lathered a bath ball up with soap. You needed to stop it. Making yourself climax only caused a short lived satisfaction while if it were from someone you actually wanted to have sex with, well, that would manage to keep you satisfied.

So, you decided to take a legitimate shower. Thirty minutes had passed by the time you got out. You had thirty-five minutes to get ready then to walk to Josie’s. So, in just a towel, you had managed to get a brush through your hair, blow drying it too. Did light makeup of a little mascara and lipstick before getting to choose an outfit. Red felt like your color that night.

So, a red top, skinny jeans, a black leather jacket, and a pair of red pumps to match. So that was another half an hour later.

Five more minutes. You made sure you had your house keys, purse, your erotica not in the purse, and you were ready to leave.

When the New York street greeted you, it wasn’t as cold as you had expected. Street lights were on, as were the lights of oncoming and going traffic. That late at night, the neighborhood streets weren’t as crowded as usual.

You brushed by people here, people there, but the streets were nearly silent. Or as silent as the city could be. You were almost there when you saw someone behind you, a taller figure who seemed broad enough to be a threat.

So, you reached into your pocket, ready to call 911 if needed, and turned around. Just as you were about to say something, you realized who it was. “Matt?”

He paused, a look of confusion evident with the way his mouth was. “Y/N?”

You stepped back towards him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “It’s me. I didn’t know you were behind me.”

He chuckled, “I didn’t know you were in front of me.” You both laughed for a moment before he added, “may I hold your arm? I know the way but I’d feel better with someone leading me.”

You nodded and wrapped your hand around his arm, feeling the muscle even through the suit. You mentally jet repeating to yourself to not think of the book.

Meanwhile, Matt was trying to figure out the air around him. The air was a mix of smells, too many for him to say. Gas, smoke, whiskey, but right next to him at his arm, he could smell your body wash, your shampoo, your conditioner, your perfume, but something else. It was so covered up by the other smells, but it was still there. It also somehow felt familiar.

He decided it would be best to ignore it, but he could taste something in the air that also felt familiar. Maybe they were from the same thing. Maybe you had some gum in your purse. That would make sense.

So, you two found yourself in Josie’s, the blonde duo already sitting there.

Foggy turned around at the sound of the door and smiled. “Matt, do you have a radar for attractive women? A third of the time I see you, one is hanging onto your arm.”

“Maybe it’s God’s way of rewarding me through the hardships of blindness,” he laughed.

Your stomach turned, God damn his laugh. You didn’t understand how something so precious could be so arousing.

You lightly shook your head, getting the thought out before you and Matt sat down. The row of barstools went Karen, Fogs, Matt, and lastly, yourself.

Josie had came over and asked what everyone wanted. The trio all said beer whilst you said scotch. They looked over at you laughing. You always took your liquor much easier than those three.

Three glasses, six shots, and one beer later, you couldn’t even sit properly. You hummed happily, cheeks as flushed looking as your lipstick. Your eyes were wide, and you were leaning over the counter, flirting with the young bartender that Josie had hired roughly a week prior.

Karen had done a few shots herself, but that was with two bottles of beer. Foggy decided to take one beer, one margarita. Then Matt, he had only beer.

It was about two in the morning and everyone knew you were too drunk to go back to your place.

“Hey Fogs, mind helping me get Y/N back to my place?”

So then began the fun of walking you about five blocks over to Matt’s. They got you up to his floor and you heavily insisted you could manage to walk on your own.

They had to give it to you, even when you were drunk off your ass, you still managed to walk pretty straight, in heels at that.

Fogs patted Matt on the shoulder one time before saying bye. That’s when Matt turned around to not see your jacket and heels kicked off by the couch, which you were leaning over. “Hey Matty, can I use your shower?”

Just the sound of her gentle, yet drunken, voice had managed to cause a warmth on his face but he just nodded. He heard her walk out, still trying to figure out what the smell was.

He heard the water turn on, your clothes hitting the floor. He shook his head. Focus on something else. So, he found himself on the couch, throwing his blazer to the floor, shoes, tie, everything he needed to just simply relax. So he sat there in dress pants and a t-shirt.

He thought back. That smell was so familiar. He could almost taste it. And as the night went on, it only got stronger. There were other odd things he noticed in the night, like you biting your lip, squirming, blushing, but that was just your drunkness, he thought.

Then from the shower, he heard something.

“Oh God,” you gasped. He was about ready to run to the bathroom to see if you were alright, but another noise came after it.

You were in the shower, your fingers finding their way to pleasure. You leaned up against the shower wall, two fingers massaging your clit. You weren’t as drunk as you were when you left Josie’s but you were still drunk enough to be sitting there fingering yourself in Matt’s shower.

You found yourself slumping against the wall as your hand began to go faster. He heard the moans, he realized what the smells and tastes were, and he was fighting to keep it in his pants.

“Oh God!” He listened to your voice as it began to get more breathless. He could nearly imagine you, as your legs shook against his tile wall. He could taste your oncoming climax. God, he apologized for using that name in vain, but he wanted to really taste it.

That’s when he heard it.

“Oh Matt!’

He knew he was screwed.

It was no more than five minutes later that the water was off, and you were standing in his living room with only a towel. "Matt,” you meekly called out, “do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

He stood up, trying his best to stay away from you, based off of your breathing and voice. “Of course,” he obliged as he led you to his room. As he dug through drawers, trying to find a t-shirt to lend you, he spoke. “So, what took you so long in the shower?”

Your face turned bright as your eyes grew. Did he know? “I was just, um, thinking. Sorry, I think best in water.” You were still drunk, so coming up with an excuse wasn’t as easy as it normally would’ve been.

“I can taste the air. I could hear everything. I could hear the way you said my name.”

You stiffened. You were afraid. Afraid that the years of friendship you had built up would come crumbling down into a horny, drunken mistake. “Matt, I-”

“Everything I heard, they made me want you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. He couldn’t have meant that, could he?

“I have to admit, I’ve been tempted to ask you on a date before. Sure, I’ve had romantic thoughts, but never have I wanted you this bad. So if you’re willing to let me do things to you, drop the towel and lay down.”

Never had Matt been so commanding of you, and frankly it caused a pang in your stomach. So, your arms gently pulled the two sides of the towel away from each other, and let it fall to the floor. You found yourself laying down, your legs open.

Matt slowly rid himself of his dress pants, letting you see the bulge beneath. You held in a gasp as he crawled onto the bed, like he could see. His right hand had gripped your thigh, slowly moving upward that’s when his thumb had come across you. Had come across your clit to be exact.

You moaned immediately and then his head found itself between your legs. The first thing he did was nibble and suck on your clit.

Every little movement, every little spark of euphoria, you had mewled or moaned. It took him even less time to make you orgasm than it did when you used your fingers. And that’s when his tongue began to explore. You could feel him start to lick you clean as you were still seeing stars.

He had milked you through three orgasms from his tongue, two from biting and sucking. You were climaxing so easily, all because of him.

You were in a daze, but then he was leaning over you, pressing his lips against yours. You could feel his tongue slide into your mouth, sharing the taste of your own juices and his boxers had came off at some point.

You held your breath as he began to put himself in, making sure you felt every inch, centimeter, millimeter, everything. Your hands tightened around the sheets, feeling the cool compared to the inferno of you and Matt.

He threw his glasses to the nightstand as he began to pull back and thrust right back in, faster, harder. “Oh God,” you cried. He made you tell past the point of words as he grunted and groaned himself.

“Oh Y/N!” You felt the very moment his cock had begun to swell. Much as you began to try and close. At the same moment, in some sort of erotic symphony, you two climaxed at once, and shouted each other’s names.

That wasn’t the end of it even when you two collapsed. After moments of rest, you’d get right back up again, not wanting the pleasure to end.

You didn’t know when it happened, you didn’t even remember it when you woke up. All you knew was that you woke up in bed next to the man you had been after for nearly two years. He was already awake and smiled.

“Morning Y/N.”

You didn’t bother with courtesies. “Why the hell and how the hell did I end up with you?”

He chuckled, “thank the alcohol.”

So from that moment on, you always thanked the alcohol.

He Passes Out During A Show - Josh Dun Imagine

Hey guys, firstly I wanted to say sorry for taking so long to post this, I’ve just had some important exams but all is good because my results are really good! hope you all enjoy x

Joshua had been working so hard for this tour. So much that he’d barely eaten a thing, every morning I would wake up in an empty bunk, sometimes it would be 6am and I would hear the faint pounding of drums from inside the stadium. he was constantly tired and went straight to sleep whenever we had any type of alone time. 

It was the night of the first show of the second part to the Emotional Roadshow, Josh had been up since 8 practising the same bit to Ride over and over. I walked behind him, setting the coffee that I had made for him beside his kit and ran my fingers over the warm skin of his shoulders, he flinched slightly at my touch and stopped suddenly looking up at me. Deep set frown lines cut through his pale face, mocha eyes drained of the life that usually danced in them. ‘Baby, you gotta have a break sometime, I promise you, you’ll do great’ I said softly, passing him the hot coffee.

‘I cant Y/N, I have to get this bit right,’ he said mumbled, gulping down the steaming drink. I gasped slightly because I knew how hot I had made it. ‘Just listen to this bit, is it okay’ He began to play the part of Ride where he would play on top of the crowd at they all peered up at him like he was a god. I listened as he played his heart out putting all of his effort into this solo, until he went wrong. ‘Argh fuck! I get the same fucking bit wrong every time I can’t do it’ he sulked burying his head into his sweaty covered hands.

‘Josh, Josh hey,’ I said, he looked at me again, tears threatening to spill from the eyes that I had fallen so in love with ‘You are going to do great, you do it every time, all the fans love you, and if you do mess up, then so what? the only people that will know are Tyler and I, and we love you no matter what, don’t you ever forget that okay?’ I smiled at him.

 ‘Thank you baby, I just wanna do you proud, I love you’ he said pulling me into a tight, if not slightly sweaty hug. I screwed up my nose and giggled at him then left to change for the evening. The drumming continued followed by various profanities, if he missed a beat, I sighed not knowing what to do with my perfectionist boyfriend.

A FEW HOURS LATER

“Tyler!?” I called from the hall, he popped his head out of the dressing room door, hair half combed as he was only part way through getting ready for tonights show. (A/N: Tyler has hair in this imagine for the purpose of this line and another later on, trust me I love Ty’s hair right now it just works that he has the fluffy hair here!)

“yesssssssssssss’ he chuckled, and I rolled my eyes at his behaviour. 

“He’s been drumming for about four hours straight now, I’ve tried so hard to get him to stop and chill but no matter what I do he won’t stop, I’m so worried Ty’ I said scratching lightly at the thin skin of my palms.

“I know, I am too, but I don’t think anyone can change what he’s doing, you know what he’s like, once he’s got his heart set on doing something he’ll do whatever it takes to do it’ he sighed running his hand through his fluffy hair. “It’s time for him to get ready anyway, he’ll come by in a minute’.

As if on cue the drumming stopped abruptly, moments later Josh was trudging down the hallway, footsteps heavy and tiresome. “Time to get ready,” he muttered trying to give a hopeful smile as he passed us and then into his dressing room. I closely followed and watched as he slumped down in his chair, he looked at his sweaty image in the mirror and I could tell he was criticising everything I saw, my heart slightly tore apart at the thought and walked over to him deciding that I would help him to do his hair and eye makeup today because he seemed exhausted. 

I kneeled in front of him and started to comb his hair into a more organised mess of sweaty, sunshine curls on top of his head, he gave he a lop-sided smile and closed his eyes as I began to smear the red paint gently over the smooth skin beneath his eyes. “open” I almost whispered at him. He fluttered his eyes open and inspected himself in the illuminated “does it look okay?’ he just nodded in response and then closed his eyes again.

‘Thank you,” he murmured.

Half an hour later and it was moment until the boys were due on stage, Josh had pumped himself up a little and was ready to go on, the adrenaline must have kicked in. 

As the stage director gave the cue, the music started and the low hum of the beginning of HeavyDirtySoul filled the arena, accompanied by the screams of the crowds. They roared in delight as they watched their idols run on stage, Tyler rapped every word to perfection and Josh kept up with the quick pace of the song. I smiled as I watched him nod his head in time to the song.

It came to ‘Ride’ and a slight wave of sickness washed over me, worrying about how Josh would do, I knew he would be fantastic but he had stressed me out earlier. I watched as the crew lifter the drum kit on top of the crowd, Josh scanned for the best path in order to safely climb onto the plywood platform. Sure enough he clambered on safely at sat on the black leather stool. The music started again and he began his solo putting the rest of his power into the beat of the song, I glanced down at my phone until I heard a thud, followed by a sickening but definite scream ‘Y/N!’, Josh was on the floor his small body engulfed by the mass of fans, desperate to touch my boyfriend. I ran across the stage, over the barrier and into the pit wading through the hoards of people until I found him, eyes rolling back in his head, gasping for breath. 

I kneeled beside him, and held his wrist in my palm checking his erratic pulse. Soon enough the medic rushed towards us and security ushered people out of the way so he had more space to breathe. I tilted his head up so it was resting on my knees and the doctor checked his heart rate and his temperature. They then picked him up and took him off to the side of the stage where he was given water. “I’m sorry guys, Josh can’t play anymore, I’m sorry if this ruined your night please don’t blame him he’s been working so hard for you. We are Twenty One Pilots, and so are you, goodnight everyone’ Tyler addressed the crowd as they began to amble towards the doors.

When the lights turned back on I had a proper look at Josh, and gasped at what I saw, his shirt had been nearly shreded by the fans, his hat was missing and small scratches were littered all up his arms where they had obviously tried to grab onto him but instead hurt him. “Babe! look at you, are you okay? look at your shirt there’s practically nothing there” he looked down at the torn black tank, and frowned, anger clearly bubbling up inside of him. “Stand up a minute I need to take a photo of this so that I can show the fans what they’ve done to you”

He stood up shakily and I quickly snapped a few shots of his shirt and arms. I went onto twitter and composed a new tweet ‘To the people who thought it appropriate to tear Joshua’s shirt and literally cut his arms, please don’t come back to another show, you are not welcome. I know you know who you are, you hurt him while he was vulnerable I hope the moment of touching him was worth it.’ I then attached the photos and posted the tweet, knowing hate would soon follow but I didn’t care because I needed to get my point across.

A couple hours later and Josh and I were curled up in bed, ‘Baby?’ he whispered, voice low and tired ‘I love you so much, thank you for helping me earlier, you’re amazing, I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you’

I smiled into his chest and whispered back ‘I love you too Joshua,’


There you go, I feel like I’m a little rusty because I haven’t written for so long but I do hope you liked it, I’d love some feedback because you don’t know how much it means to me!

Much love.

-E

S A V I O R (B. Barnes x Reader)

Word count: 2688

Warnings: Kissing, some Russian and this is shit, but whatever.


Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace, Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freight car
Тоска, проржавевший, семнадцать, Рассвет, печи, девять, доброкачественная, встреча выпускников/корпоративы, один, грузовых автомобилей

My hands sting and I can already feel the bruises beginning to form.
I sit to catch my breath, in the deafening silence I hear a drop of my blood hit the scuffed wooden floor.

Looking back, not wrapping my hands was a bad idea.

I get onto my feet and hook another bag up. This time, being careful to wash and wrap my hands.
Letting out years of pent up anger felt good after a long day of dealing with idiotic people.

“You should probably take care of that first.” Steve comments just as I knock the bag off its chain, accidentally spilling sand across the floor.
“If it isn’t the star-spangled man with a plan, why are you here? What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything -” he says obviously finding humour in his joke. My patience is running thin and I shoot him a glare.
He clears his throat, regaining his composure. “Fury wanted to see you.”
“Fury? Nick Fury, the one that relieved me of my title as field agent?-” Steve tries to cut me off
“-All because yours truly made one little mistake-”
“You almost got us killed.” He cuts in
“But I didn’t! I came in and saved your ass, again!”
“You wouldn’t have had to save us if you stuck to the orders!”
“It was my brother! What would you have done! I fixed my mistake, but Fury didn’t give me my second chance, why should I give him his?”
“Y/N I-” he sighs “I need your help.”
I shoot him a questioning look. “My silence is your cue.”
“Do you remember Bucky?”
“Bucky. Barnes?…The Winter Soldier? Yeah, why?”
“S.H.E.I.L.D wants to recruit him”
“Why? He tried to kill us. You were his mission-”
“I was his friend.”
“Steve, Bucky was your friend, the Winter Soldier, he’s your enemy. You can’t save him. He’s long gone. And he tried to kill us.”
“He remembers.” Steve argues “H-he’s still the Bucky I used to know, deep down.” He clears his throat again.
“Fury said that if you brought him back successfully-and alive- he’ll give you your job back.”
“Fine, but I’m doing this for me, and only me, not for you or your issues with your broken boyfriend.” Steve barely contained his excitement as we walk to the jet waiting outside. After a short flight to Stark tower and many questioning glances, we’re sat around a table discussing the terms of the mission.

“There are tracking devices in all the weapons in case you decide to go rogue.”
“Stark, I take my job very seriously.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, it’s just a precaution.”
I glance over the weapons layed out in front on me and pick a few, stuffing them in my duffle bag. I pause when I see an unfamiliar weapon. “Hey, Stark, what’s this?”
“Turn it away from you, press the green button, it vaporizes whatever its aimed at.” He demonstrated on a vase sitting on the table and it turned to a pile of ash.
“Woah. That’s awesome!”
“Thank you.”
“Tony, if only you were as big as your ego, maybe you’d be able to reach the top shelf.” Although he was a few inches taller than me I still liked to tease him about his height compared to the others.

I sat back down looking over the Winter Soldier’s case file once again, taking in all the details, adding them to what I already know. In his military picture he looks young, determined, sweet, definitely handsome, probably a ladies man with his hair neatly cut and gelled.
In the other two he looked different. There’s one of him in cryo. Even in his frozen state you can still make out the crease in his brow, he looks like he’s… in pain. The one of him in action, a majority of his face is covered by a black mask, his hair long and messy. His metal arm stood out against his black uniform. The vibranium caught the sun and made the red star stand out even more. The way I recognized him best, as the Winter Soldier.

“Y/N!”
“What?” I say snapping out of my stupor

“You spaced out, it’s time for us to leave, you’re headed to Shelbyville, Indiana, that’s where the target was seen last.”

“He’s not a target.” Steve yelled from down the hall, slamming the door.

“Actually, Sam? Wilson, right? Alright bird-boy. I say we head to Washington. I was thinking metal-man grew up in Indiana, maybe he went looking for answers he couldn’t find. If you’re a fossil who doesn’t know how to properly use a computer, where would you go to search for the past?”

“The Smithsonian.” Bruce chimed in when we walked past him lab. I shot him a smile, seeing as he was the only one who sided with me when I almost got them killed, he’s one of my favorites. Him and Natasha that is. Agent Romanoff was always one of my favourites.
“Exactly, there’s a big plaque dedicated to Barnes there. I say we check it out. I don’t think Barnes would stay in one place too long, he knows he’s wanted.”
“You really think he’s there?”
“Wilson, I’m a spy, its my job to know where people are.” I send over my shoulder on my way into the quinjet. I’m met with a light chuckle from Mr. Patriotism himself. “What’re you laughing at?”
“You know, you’re quite funny, agent Y/L/N.” I’m slightly startled by the title, not being used to it anymore. Does he just have that much faith that I’ll succeed? Although, I’ve only failed one or two missions. “Alright Rogers, we’ve got three hours on the jet, try to behave.”

Three hours later I’m dropped off at one of Stark’s safe houses a few blocks from the Smithsonian.
“Call when you’ve got him, we’ll send a jet. And Y/N, please, don’t hurt him unless you absolutely need to.” A quick nod and a small smile from the Captain is my parting, from here I’m on my own. I head into the small rundown house, it’s bigger on the inside, cleaner and brighter too. There’s a bed to one side and a bathroom on the other.

“There’s no place like home.”

I drop my duffle and slip a gun into the waistband of my pants. I also grab a knife and slip it into the holster in my jacket, you can’t be too careful.

I decide to take the small ‘getaway’ car in the garage. Its not as great as Steve’s bug though.

The first few days go by with no sign of the infamous soldier. I’m caught off guard to finally see the one and only sporting a baseball cap, jeans and a sweatshirt. He has gloves on too, it seems. Its not too cold, it’s only late October, he’s most likely trying to hide the metal that could set civilians into a panic and most certainly give him away. He’s standing near the plaque dedicated to the one James Barnes of the 107th.

I stand and observe him for a little while. He reads the words over and over again. Its a good ten minutes before I finally walk over, careful not to startle him. I stand next to him and read the plaque for myself.
“Bucky seems like he was a great person, definitely someone you’d want to befriend.” He seems caught off guard by my words and he takes a second to comprehend my sentence.
“Yeah I bet he was a great person.” He says. “Was.” He says. I don’t comment on it because I know I wasn’t supposed to hear it. After another few minutes of silence I start again.

“You know, Steve really misses you.” His head shoots up and his eyes are dark and guarded. He recognized the name.

“He remembers.” Steve’s words play over in my head.

“Who sent you?” He questions obviously ready for a fight.
“S.H.E.I.L.D.” the look on his face tells me he doesn’t believe me.
“They want to recruit you.” No response.
“Bucky-” recognition crosses his features, but is gone almost immediately and his eyes soften, barely. He looked like he was thinking hard, remembering.
“-Steve wants you back, he wants you to remember and I can help.” I show him my S.H.E.I.L.D badge for proof
“Okay.”
“Let’s go because that guard hasn’t stopped watching you since you came in.” We head towards the street making our way to my car.
A tall man blocks our way. I pull out a gun and shoot. I clip his shoulder and he gets my leg, I collapse, but shoot again, this time its a head shot. The car’s gone and I can’t walk.
“How’d you get those through security?”
“Same way you got your arm through. Can you carry me, I can’t walk.” He picks me up as if I weighed nothing while I made a makeshift tourniquet.
I call Steve and then Romanoff and Banner, but none of them answer. He sets me down in a chair when we reach the safe house.
“Well, Earth’s mightiest heroes aren’t answering, I guess we’ll spend the night here. I’ll take first watch. You rest.” He hesitates, obviously not trusting me.
“If Steve trusts me, you can too. I promise.” He gets up and heads towards the bathroom. I hear the water start to run. I decide to make something light to eat for us, assuming he hasn’t had much lately. I hear the door click open.
“Hey, I made us dinner-” he standing in the doorway with only a towel wrapped around his waist. “I uhm, left my clothes.”
I hand him his clothes and try to keep my gaze from wandering. The door clicks shut again and I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding in. I sit on the bed and begin eating my sandwich. Bucky comes out, fully clothed with his hair neatly combed. I hand him his plate.
“You know, if there’s anything you want to know about yourself, I could try to answer, the basics at least. You’ll have to ask Rogers on the rest.”
“You know, that wasn’t me. None of it was me, I killed… So many people b-but, it wasn’t me.”
“I know Bucky.” I say taking his plate as he lays down.

He tosses and turns for hours. And when his breathing finally evens out I’m relieved to know he’s at least resting. I know what torture can do to a person. He sleeps for about an hour before he wakes up, immediately on guard. He wraps his metal hand around my throat
“Кто тебя послал?” Who sent you?
I’ve never been caught like this before, I could get out easily, but that would only make him more nervous,
“Bucky.” I choke out. “Its me, no one sent me.” His eyes soften and he drops me.
“I’m so sorry.” He says softly, glancing at the forming bruises.
“Its okay, I have them too, you know.” He looks surprised,
“You do?”
“Mm.” He looks at me for another second before going and sitting on the bed. He mutters quietly in Russian, but I can’t make out the words. I sidestep my bag and go to the sink.
“Drink.” I say handing him the glass. “What were you just mumbling?”
“Пытки равна прочности.”
“Torture equals strength.” We say together.
“ It was written on every surface back at Hydra.” I sit on the bed next to him, a bit closer than necessary.
“Все это будет нормально.” It’ll all be okay
He looks up at me and for the first time I see the ghost of a smile grace his features.
My phone rings interrupting our conversation.
“I’m sorry, we had a mission, I’ll come out to pick you up now.”

Thanks Clint, see you soon.“

"Katniss will be here soon, just throw your stuff in my duffle, I got it.” He does as he’s told, obviously confused, and goes back to his spot on the bed. It kind of set me off that he was trusting me. I knew well enough that it was an act. That he would try something. It was almost too easy.

×××

Bucky became my new partner on all my missions and he’s remembering more and more.
With the help of Steve of course.
Its been about 2 years. I’ll fill you in on the details.

I was right, when Clint came, Bucky tried to escape. To kill us. He didn’t succeed. He was locked up for a while, with only minimal visits from me or from Steve. Steve helped him to remember, I was like a therapist. Maybe it was because I didn’t remind him, maybe because I was, in a sense, a stranger, but nevertheless, we grew closer. Eventually, I got Fury to agree to let Barnes roam, with me as an escort. Once he was stable enough, he began training, which, in my opinion, he didn’t need. And then he was recruited.

“Hey, Buck, we gotta go, we’re on our way to Vegas, remember?”
Finally, a mission in a nice place. We drop down and check into a nice hotel, that’s a new one. There’s a Hydra base under one of the abandoned casinos in town and its our job to take it down.

×××

“Hey Buck, we’re in Vegas, we should do something fun.”
I say as we walk away from the burning building, cliché am I right?

“Why don’t we go back to the hotel and order room service? Watch a few movies, I’m still not caught up with the 21st century.” I laugh and nod my head in agreement.
I collapse on the bed and bury my face in the pillow.
“Are you tired, Мой ангел?”
I feel a rush of warmth at the name. Did he just call me his angel?
“No, just getting comfy.” I reply, my voice muffled my the pillow.
“I can make you comfy.” He says climbing in beside me and pulling me to him. He trails kisses up my neck to my jaw. I turn over to face him and give him a puzzled look. I’m not denying my feelings, everyone knew they were there, we’ve just never… confronted it, or even talked about it. And he’s never this carefree.

He smiles and captures my lips with his, a soft, yet hungry kiss, like he’d been waiting to do it. He wanted me just as badly as I wanted him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he instinctively put his hands on either side of my head to hold himself up. I tuck my hand up under his shirt and he pulls away only long enough my me to slip his shirt off and throw it across the room. I trace the skin where the metal meets, its still red, but not as bad as when I caught him watching his own reflection. As if he were a monster, a few weeks after I brought him to S.H.E.I.L.D. he slipped my shirt up over my head and trailed kisses down my neck, to my chest and onto my stomach, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He brings his mouth back up to mine and his tongue skims my bottom lip. The moment ends when my phone rings insanely loudly. Bucky curses under his breath.
“What?” I snap at the person on the other line.
“Did I interrupt?” Comes the snarky voice of Tony on the other end.
“Why are you calling, Stark?”
“I sent Natasha to come get you guys, she’ll be there in a few hours.”
I end the call without a goodbye and look to the soldier piercing me with his blue eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He just chuckles and places a light kiss to my forehead.
“We’d better get dressed.” He muses a playful smirk on his face.
“To be continued, Кукла.”

Doll.

keep it.

➵ characters: g-dragon x reader
➵ genre: smut
➵ wc: 5140
➵ summary: jiyong shows up with a new hair colour and you’re happy. really happy.
➵ author’s note:this came purely from the weakness i felt when jiyong coloured his hair black after the fxxk it promotions. something about it every time he does has me putty. and this is my first post after at least four months. wow i’m really terrible, if you guys hate me now i don’t blame. but i hope this makes you hate me less. enjoy!
masterlist
disclaimer

JiJi: You’re not at the studio anymore. Where did you go?

You: YG called me in to his office.

JiJi: Is everything okay?

You: Yeah, everything’s fine. Give me a couple more minutes.

From behind you, the door to Hyunsuk’s office creaked open as he entered the room once more after having taken an important call. You scurried to return your phone in your bag just beneath you, watching the man go around his large desk and settle in his seat.

“Sorry about that. So,” he sighed. “Will you be able to just keep Chaerin company on her US tour? You know, just so that she has someone there with her that she trusts.”

“Of course. She’ll be safe with me,” you smiled enthusiastically.

“Great. We’re still deciding on dates, but it’ll be within the next two or three months. We’ll keep you posted.”

You smiled again, nodding respectfully. As Hyunsuk rose from his seat, you quickly followed suit. You said your farewell, ensuring him once more that Chaerin is in secure hands.

“Oh, by any chance, are you going to see Jiyong?”

“Um,” you chuckled nervously, “yes, I believe so.”

“Do tell him he still owes me a dinner for losing that bet… he’ll know what I’m talking about.”

“Yes… sir, I will.”

With one last polite goodbye, you left Hyunsuk be in his office and back to his work. The journey from the grand office back to the floor where most studios were did not take that long, taking just a minute or two to arrive at your destination. You had expected Jiyong to already be there, either waiting for you or deep into his work, but the studio was just as you had left it, empty.

You plonked your bag on the spacious leather in the corner of the room, sitting beside it, allowing one leg to cross over the other. A long sigh was exuded before you let your head fall back onto the sofa’s top, closing your eyes, relishing in the silence. However, it was short lived, as you heard the glass door you had closed reopen, hearing a familiar voice.

“Hmph, that didn’t take long,” Jiyong commented.

“It wasn’t supposed to,” your eyes remained closed. “And YG said something about a bet?” Your head was lifted so you sat up straight, and even though your eyes were now open they still faced downwards to your lap. “That you still owe him dinner?”

“Ha, he’s still going on about that?” he chuckled. “Soon.”

“He called me to ask to go on tour with Chaerin,” your head snapped up. “You know, just to— “

Your facial expression which was once aloof and calm was now very much alert, with surprise becoming the new emotion, and it rendered you speechless.

Jiyong waited for you to complete your sentence, but when you didn’t he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “Just to what?”

“You coloured your hair?”

Keep reading

Hold on to me (cause I’m a little unsteady)

A/N:Following Rita’s attack on Trini, Kimberly comes to comfort her and spends the night. The next morning they are caught in a compromising position by none other than Trini’s mom. Warning: this will deal with homophobia.


She doesn’t know how much time passes since Rita leaves but it feels like forever as she sits on the dirty floor against the wrecked wall. She feels cold and her neck is throbbing but she can’t bring herself to move, the fear still coursing through her.

A hand touches her shoulder and she reacts before looking. She grabs the hand, standing up with rapid speed, and pushes the unsuspecting body against the wall, her forearm digging into the person’s neck. Adrenaline is rushing through her body but all she can see is green.

“Trini, it’s me,” the voice whimpers, “Kim.”

Kim. Green eyes turn brown and it’s only then that Trini registers the fear and pain on Kimberly’s face. Guilt bubbles up in her and her blood runs cold. She stumbles back leaving Kimberly to gasp for air. The fear morphs to worry and Kimberly takes a step forward. Trini mimics by taking a step back and falls. It hits her all at once.

She hurt Kimberly, she’s no better than Rita; Rita, who has left a mark in her room. The smell of death and the salt water, it clings to her room, to her body, to her clothes.

Her yellow shirt is ripped in places that Rita’s claws dug in. Her breathing is shallow as she begins to pull off her tattered shirt over her head. It comes off and she flings it across her room but it doesn’t help, her chest feels tight, she can’t breathe.

“Hey! Hey, Trini, calm down.” The girl takes two long steps and envelopes her in her arms. Trini stiffens momentarily and then her body is shaking, tears running down her face. She clings to Kimberly’s shirt afraid that if she lets go she’ll fall apart. Her knees go weak but Kimberly catches her and picks her up with an arm under her legs and cradling her against her chest. She doesn’t hesitate in burying her face in Kimberly’s neck.

“Shh, it’s alright. She’s gone and I won’t let her hurt you.” Kimberly whispers softly. She does not know how Kimberly knows or what she knows but at the moment it is irrelevant.

Kimberly maneuvers them to the bed with as much ease as possible as Trini tightly grips Kimberly’s shirt. She’s faintly aware that she’s shirtless in front of a girl she has a crush on but the thought dissipates as a hand combs through her hair. Her breathing evens out, her heart rate slows and her chest doesn’t feel like it’s crushing her lungs. She can fell herself relax even though her whole body aches. Exhaustion catches up to her and her eyes begin to droop. Kimberly murmurs soft and comforting words to Trini as they adjust to a comfortable position. Trini needs to thank her, to apologize for hurting her. She tries to fight it, to stay awake and protect Kimberly but sleep overcomes her.

“Trini!”

Trini shoots up in her bed, mind still foggy from sleep and vision slightly blurry. She registers the cold first, she wasn’t cold before, and then her mother’s angry face. Why the hell is she in her room? She wants to say something sarcastic but her throat hurts, her body hurts.

“What’s going on?” A groggy voice says next to her.

Kimberly! She jerks her head in the girl’s direction who has sat up and is rubbing her eyes. Trini thinks it’s cute but she can’t delve into those thoughts when her mother is present. And then she realizes why she’s cold and her mother is fuming.

She’s shirtless, with a girl, in her bed. Shit!

“Trinidad, qué ésta haciendo esa muchacha en tu cama?” Her mother screams.

Trini winces at the loudness. “Mamá, lo puedo explicar!” She blurts out but her mother is not even listening.

“Y porqué está hecho un desastre tu cuarto?” She flings her arms gesturing at the walls.

Trini opens her mouth to speak but her mother cuts her off, “Y tu cuello, quiero un explicacion ahorita!”

Trini opens her mouth but gets cut off again. “And don’t even think of lying to me!”

Annoyance flares up and she gets angry, her mother never listens. She doesn’t think twice before shouting, “I’m gay!”

Her mother’s eyes widen and her own eyes widen as she clamps a hand over her mouth. Fuck, she did not mean to come out like that. The silence is deafening as she waits for her mom to say something. She feels a warm hand grab her free hand and squeeze it lightly in a comforting gesture. She wants to turn to Kimberly and tell her thank you but she can’t seem to look away from her mother’s stunned face but she squeezes Kimberly’s hand and hope that’s enough to show that she appreciates the girl being there.

“What?” Her mother stutters. She looks at Trini with shock and then glances next to her. She stares at Kimberly, at their joined hands. She can almost see her mother forming one of her crazy theories in her head.

“Wait! No she’s-” She doesn’t get a chance to correct her mother as she is interrupted again.

“Get out!” Her mother shouts and her chest is tight, her heart is beating rapidly, painfully.

“You’re kicking me out?” She asks, unable to keep the sadness from her voice. She knew this would happen.

“No tú Trinidad!” She shrieks. “That girl, I want her out of my house now. We need to have a serious discussion.”

She should be happy that her mother is not kicking her out but the hate and the disappointment behind her mother’s eyes makes her feel like it would be better if she left.

“I should go.” Kimberly mumbles as she untangles their joined hands and places it on her bare shoulder. Trini forces away the reaction to shiver and settles for a nod. Kimberly hugs Trini and places a kiss on her cheek. She melts into the embrace trying to gain some sort of strength to face her mother. The warmth of Kimberly’s body almost makes her forget this whole mess.

“If you need me to come pick you up just call me, please.” Kimberly whispers in her ears. She nods into the girl’s neck. She wants to say thank you but can’t seem to find her voice. Kimberly tucks a stray stand of her behind her ear. Trini fights the urge to lean into the touch and settles for nodding. She turns to face her mother as Kimberly walks out. She wants to call out after her, beg her to stay, beg her to take her.

She feels desolated with the look her mother gives her. Normally she’d thrive of pissing her mother off but knowing her mother hates her, hates who she is, it kills her. She waits for the screaming to begin, for the lectures as her anxiety builds up with the silence.

Her mother shakes her head with a frown. “Put on a shirt and head downstairs while I get your father.”

Her stomach drops, this isn’t going to end well.


 A/N:

Translation:

1. qué ésta haciendo esa muchacha en tu cama? - what is that girl doing in your bed

2. Mamá, lo puedo explicar! - mom, i can explain

3. Y porqué está hecho un desastre tu cuarto? - and why is your room a mess

4. Y tu cuello, quiero un explicacion ahorita! - and your neck, i want an explanation right now