rich snobs

TO DATE THE SLYTHERIN PRINCE [DRACO MALFOY]

summary: in which no matter what, you refuse to love anyone else other than draco malfoy.

a/n: this has been in my drafts for ages and only now do i finally have the guts to post it! hope you enjoy it :-)

Masterlist + Request here!

When the whole school learned that the two of you were dating, saying that they were surprised by the news was an understatement. Well, who would expect that someone like him would fall for someone like you? Him, who was practically considered as the Slytherin Prince, while you, who was a fierce yet sweet Y/H.

Yep, you were a Y/H. Not to mention that you were a half-blood too.

Honestly, some people would still look at the two of you like you were aliens. They gawked and weren’t even hiding the fact that they did — it sometimes drove you nuts. Draco, on the other hand, would smile smugly and place an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side while his eyes lingered on those boys who would look at you differently.

Some first years who had crushes on your boyfriend would either sigh or squel whenever you walked passed them with Draco beside you, his hands holding your books for you even though you already told him not to. The said students would wish that they were in your position, while some rooted for the two of you.

You see, you and Draco had a lot of differences. One of them was the obvious; having two different houses. He was considered as the bad boy, you were considered as the good girl; he came from a rich and well known family, you came from muggles who weren’t rich nor poor; he had these gray eyes, you had y/e/c; and he was mostly hated, you were mostly loved.

That’s why when the news spread, Hermione had to make you repeat your sentence over and over again just to be sure she was hearing it right.

“Wait, so you’re dating the Draco Malfoy?” she exclaimed with wide eyes.

You simply nodded and carried on eating. It wasn’t a big deal anyway, right? What was wrong about dating him? You, out of all the people, of course did know what they thought of Draco Malfoy — the rich snob, the bully, the jerk, the son of Lucius Malfoy who was once a follower of Voldemort, and the Slytherin who hated Harry Potter.

You weren’t oblivious to those facts, but the people didn’t know how loving and caring Draco was. You fell in love with him because one time when you were running late to class and accidentally knocked him down, he was the one who apologized and picked up your books. When he saw you crying one time alone at the top of the cliff, he offered his ears to you and listened as you poured your heart out. And when he saw you inside the library, studying a lesson that you couldn’t understand, Draco sat by your side, teaching you even though you didn’t ask for help.

So when he suddenly asked you if you wanted to come with him at Hogsmeade the next weekend, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. He was more than pleased by your answer, of course, and even said that: “You won’t regret it, Y/N.”, in which you replied with a roll of your eyes.

But what entertained most of the student body about your relationship is that you are both players for your houses’ Quidditch team. Draco Malfoy was the Slytherin Seeker, while you were one of the Y/N Chasers. They found it entertaining whenever you were already on the field and Draco purposely annoys you by suddenly flying past your way in incredible speed. Sometimes you would get revenge by throwing the Quaffle in his direction when a teammate was behind him.

Your teammates were more than annoyed whenever Y/H was going up against Slytherin because of this.

“Y/L/N!” the captain of your team would yell in a high pitched voice as you crossed the three hoops. “Focus, will you? And stop messing with Malfoy!”

But you would just laugh and fly away from him, in deep pursuit for the quaffle once again.

Though just like any other relationships, you and Draco had your downfalls. The thing you two most fought about is how he always insults muggles and muggleborn students, calling them mudblood or calling the pure bloods who liked the said students blood traitors. You would always hit him in the stomach or arm whenever he sneers at Harry Potter or throw an unpleasant remark towards Hermione and Ron. Draco would just look at you then, rolling his eyes and muttering several curses under his breath that drove you to be even angrier than before.

“You know, if I didn’t know better, I would have thought that you preferred to be with Potter than your boyfriend!” he once yelled in an argument, his tone full of jealousy.

With that line, you just closed your eyes and sighed.

You always knew Draco had some deep insecurities about Harry Potter, and if you say something that might sound like you do prefer him over Draco, you knew you would regret it afterwards.

So to cause no more drama, you would suddenly pull him in a tight hug, in which he would always bury his head on your shoulder, stroking his blonde hair as you both murmur a bunch of “sorry’s” to each other.

And that’s why you loved each other dearly. No matter how much of a jerk Draco Malfoy might be, if you could have any person to love over and over again, you would definitely, no doubt in your mind, pick him.

The Assistant Part 1

Hello lovies! So first off I’d like to start off by saying this isn’t the usual kind of assistant imagine; in this one, Harry is the assistant! Also, I’m giving the girl a name in this one just because it’s a longer one and it makes sense to have a name to refer to! You can change the name if you’d like, or not. All up to you! Also, this is going to be split into 2 parts because there’s… a lot. There will be smut in both parts!

Warnings: Smut & Language & alcohol(?)

Word Count: 4,610

“Sorry is not enough, Amy. Do you understand what you may have just done? I have overlooked your silly, incompetent mistakes for months now because they could easily be fixed, but this, my dear, is messing with my company’s revenue. The money we make to keep everyone here, including you, employed,” her voice was laced with fury as she spoke slowly, the quietness of her voice only making her seem more intimidating as she leaned over Amy’s desk, placing her hands on either side of the unopened laptop in front of Amy.

As per usual, Harry’s gaze wandered over the curve of her ass and he couldn’t help but wonder how firm it would feel under his hands, but the thought of his large hand splayed over it caused him to clear his throat and focus on the pug mug Amy had settled on her desk to clear his mind of any improper thoughts. She was his boss, for crying out loud, but he couldn’t deny that over the past 6 months he’d been working for Whimsy, he had tugged one out to the thought of her an embarrassing amount of times. He figured tonight would be another one of those nights, because the sight of her bent over a desk, angry, was something that never failed to work him up.

 By the time Harry had snapped back to attention, Amy was almost crying and Whimsy was, as expected, fuming, which was Harry’s cue to step in.

OR Whimsy’s new assistant Harry is a wonderful addition to both the company, and Whimsy’s life.


Whimsy’s eyes fell upon the tall and well-built boy who was sat in the waiting room of her works building, just waiting for him to be called into her office. Her eyebrows immediately shot up as she continued to scan him as he relaxed back in his chair, his large hand currently swallowing up the small phone in it. While he was going to be her new assistant, this was her first time seeing him; her former assistant, Huntlea, had interviewed him and had the final decision on who she felt fit the company best. Huntlea had gotten pregnant with her 2nd child, and her husband and her both agreed they would rather raise their children outside of the city, causing them to move 4 hours away from Whimsy’s office in New York City, therefore creating the need for a new assistant.

“Harry Styles?” She announced, her voice strong as she stood tall at the entryway, her black stilettos causing her to stand at a good 5’10, her usual height being around 5’5.

Whimsy was young, and she was a spit fire who ran her business with an iron fist but who also sympathized with her employees when it was necessary. At the young age of 20, she was thrust into the position of CEO of Smith’s Marketing Company after her grandmother had died, leaving the business to her. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that the business was going to be left to her, but it was a surprise at how soon it had happened, but she accepted it with grace and poise. She was now 22, and the business was doing better than anyone had ever expected under her new ownership.

Harry stood up from his seat quickly and his eyes landed on her and he instantly did a double take, his heart rate picking up as he scanned her over. She was gorgeous, and the tight black pencil skirt that was currently hugging her ass perfectly was making it hard not to ogle at the young woman standing before him as he approached her, his hand outstretched.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss. Smith,” his handshake was firm, as was hers, both letting it linger longer than a normal handshake would before pulling away.

“And you as well, Mr. Styles. Please follow me into my office,” she promptly turned on her heels and began leading the way to her office that was at the end of the hall, Harry’s eyes shamelessly watching the way her hips moved in her skirt as he trailed behind her.

They entered the large office and Whimsy made her way behind the deck, taking a seat in her cozy chair as she gestured for Harry to sit on the couch that was placed in front of her.

“First we’ll start by discussing salary, which I’m sure Huntlea touched on just a bit but there have been a few changes,” she grabbed a packet of paper and flipped through it, quickly reaching the salary pay and sliding it across the desk with a pen, “Due to your qualifications, I’ve decided to up your salary a bit, so instead of the 40k a year Huntlea and you discussed, you’ve been jumped to 55k. Every six months you will be rewarded a salary raise based on your performance. We never cut salaries here; if you aren’t doing a satisfactory job, you get fired.” Harry nodded as she spoke, his eyes scanning over the paper before quickly signing it and sliding it her way.

“Thank you, Mrs. Smith. For the salary raise, and for the opportunity to be your assistant,” he sent her a calm smile as he sat up straight on the couch, his eyes watching her lips quirked up on a soft smile.

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Styles. Now, as for the job, don’t expect it to be like normal assistants. I don’t expect you to fetch my lunch or my coffee or any of that; the second you accepted this job, you became as important to this company as I am. You’ll be helping me talk to big clients, making big deals, and in general keeping me organized. Do not be afraid to speak up; I want your opinions, and I want to know if you think something I’m doing isn’t a good idea, I won’t be offended,” Harry nodded along as she spoke, his green eyes staying on hers, holding confidence, and what was soon turning into fondness as she continued to speak.

“Now,” she continued, sitting up straighter in her chair as she placed her hands on her desk intertwining his fingers, “I’m young, Mr. Styles. I’m sure you know this. In fact, you’re a year older than me, but that does not mean I am a push over. I am not just some rich snob who was handed everything; yes, my grandmother gave me her business, but she had two other grandchildren to choose from, and she chose me, the youngest, for a reason. Do not cross me. Do not try and betray me; I’ve already had one assistant try that, and now there is no company in New York City who will hire her. Do not try to take advantage of my age, because you will not like the outcome; do you understand?” Harry’s eyes were wide as she spoke, his palms beginning to sweat; he had no intention of do anything but his job, but hearing her speak with such confidence was intriguing.

“I understand. Wouldn’t dream of doing anything other than my job,” he replied back, and Whimsy only nodded in response.

“Huntlea chose you for a reason, so I do hope you live up to both of our expectations.”


Harry had exceeded everyone’s expectations.

After being at the company for only six months, it had become clear that not only was he what was best for the company, he was also what was best at keeping Whimsy sane. Harry was nothing short of the model employee; getting his work done, helping Whimsy with hers, and remaining professional, unless, of course, Whimsy and him were alone. Harry quickly learned that both got along well not only as coworkers, but as friends, and when it was just the two of them, Whimsy had no problem with them acting like it. In fact, Harry was the only person in the office who was ever allowed to use her first name, but of course when no one else was around. To everyone in the office, she was Miss. Smith the CEO, and he was Mr. Styles the assistant, but between them they were quickly becoming best friends.

Whimsy’s eyes were slanted into a hard glare as she looked at the screen of her laptop, the email she was currently reading causing her blood to boil as she went over every word; one of her employees had made an amateur mistake, but it was an amateur mistake that if not fixed immediately, would cost them 100k.

“V’ got the coffee, love…” Harry stormed into Whimsy’s office, kicking the door shut behind him but quickly stopping in his tracks as he saw the look on Whimsy’s face; she was pissed, to say the least. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, but he was worried for the person who was about to be on the receiving end of her wrath. In the six months he’d been working with her, he had seen her lose it on two employees (who were promptly fired) and he had felt like crying when she was done with them each time, even though he had been sat on the other side of the room each time.

Whimsy lifted her gaze from the laptop screen up to Harry, her eyes softening as she saw him standing in the middle of her office with coffee in his hand and an unsure smile on his face.
“Told you for the past six months you don’t have to grab my coffee, but thank you,” she said, sending him a tight smile as he approached her and handed her the coffee.

“Go to get myself coffee, pet. Would feel like a proper dick if I showed up without anything for you,” he walked up behind her, his hands landing on her tense shoulders as he looked over her head, reading the email that was the cause for her deathly glare as he had walked in.

The feeling of Harry’s hands on her shoulders instantly caused the tension running throughout Whimsy to dissipate as she relaxed back into his touch, her eyes closing as she focused on her deep breathing.

“Do ya wan’ me to take care o’ this, love?” The pet names rolled off his tongue easily when it came to her, and he often found himself struggling to keep them in when others were around. The first time he had referred to her as “love,” they had been working late in the office one night, surrounded by Chinese takeout as Whimsy was about to have a full-on breakdown. He wasn’t thinking about it as it rolled out of his mouth as he pushed the Chinese away from her and tried to calm her down, but she didn’t snap at him or scold him for it being unprofessional, so he kept saying it. Soon, he could notice a small twinkle in her eyes whenever he used one of the many pet names he had for her, so he decided to keep using them.

“No,” she shook her head, letting out an exasperated sigh, “This isn’t the first time she’s messed up, but it’s the first time it might affect our revenue. Need to get her to fix it, and I need it to be fixed now,” she shrugged his hands off her shoulder and he took that as his cue to step back, knowing she would be standing up soon, ready to confront the coworker in question.

She was always wearing those god damn tight skirts, which was the first thing he noticed as she pushed back from her chair and stood, tossing her long, wavy ponytail over her shoulder and straitening said skirt out.


The entire floor went quiet the second Whimsy and Harry stepped out of the elevator, everyone’s eyes watching Whimsy as she made her way across the room. It wasn’t hard for the office to gauge when Whimsy was angry; instead of stepping onto the floor with a smile on her face and greeting every employee she made eye contact with, she was dead silent and walked with a purpose. Her stilettos echoed through the silence as she approached Amy’s desk, Harry trailing behind her with his hands shoved into his suit pant pockets.  

“Amy,” Whimsy’s voice was calm as she spoke, but if eyes could reflect fire, hers would currently be up in flames.

Amy caught Harry’s gaze first before she flickered her eyes over to Whimsy; she knew exactly what she had done, she had gotten an email the second she sat down in her office chair.

“I’m so sorry, Miss. Smith; I got the email this morning and I am doing my best to try and fix it,” Amy rushed, her eyes pleading with Harry as she spoke; the office knew Harry was the only one who could calm Whimsy down, but Harry only raised an eyebrow at Amy as he leaned against the wall near her desk, crossing his arms as he slowly chewed on the mint gum in his mouth, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he waited for Whimsy to speak. Costing the company money was serious, and he wasn’t planning on intervening.

“Sorry is not enough, Amy. Do you understand what you may have just done? I have overlooked your silly, incompetent mistakes for months now because they could easily be fixed, but this, my dear, is messing with my company’s revenue. The money we make to keep everyone here, including you, employed,” her voice was laced with fury as she spoke slowly, the quietness of her voice only making her seem more intimidating as she leaned over Amy’s desk, placing her hands on either side of the unopened laptop in front of Amy.

As per usual, Harry’s gaze wandered over the curve of her ass and he couldn’t help but wonder how firm it would feel under his hands, but the thought of his large hand splayed over it caused him to clear his throat and focus on the pug mug Amy had settled on her desk to clear his mind of any improper thoughts. She was his boss, for crying out loud, but he couldn’t deny that over the past 6 months he’d been working for Whimsy, he had tugged one out to the thought of her an embarrassing amount of times. He figured tonight would be another one of those nights, because the sight of her bent over a desk, angry, was something that never failed to work him up.

By the time Harry had snapped back to attention, Amy was almost crying and Whimsy was, as expected, fuming, which was Harry’s cue to step in.

“Miss. Smith,” he spoke, his voice causing Whimsy to push herself off of Amy’s desk and look over at him as he approached her, his hand landing on her shoulder softly, “Why don’ ya’ go back to ya’ office and start contacting the businesses involved, I’ll help Amy try and fix this,” he squeezed her shoulder lightly as she pursed her lips, thinking over his proposition before eventually nodding her head.

“Fine, but if this isn’t fixed by the end of the day, you’re fired,” her stare was back on Amy as she spoke before she sent Harry a final nod and began to walk back to the elevator. The office was quiet the entire time, just waiting for the elevator doors to close before they all let out the breaths they were holding in.

“Thank you,” Amy breathed, blinking her eyelashes up at Harry as he looked down at her, a tight line adorning his lips.

“Only did it so she wouldn’t get more stressed than she is, had nothing to do with you. V’been fixin’ your mistakes since I got here, m’ not fixin’ this one.”


The problem was not fixed by the end of the day, meaning it was now midnight and Whimsy was about to rip her hair out. Her heels had been chucked across her office long ago and her long hair let down from the tight ponytail it had been in all day. She was sure her head was going to explode anytime soon, and all she wanted to do was relax with a bottle of wine and go to sleep.

A knock on her office door brought her out of the daze she was in, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she had thought she was the only one in the office.

“Come in,” she called, her voice hoarse from the lack of use it had endeared the past few hours, not including the few screaming matches she had with her laptop. The second the door opened and she saw Harry standing on the other side of it, she could feel her entire body relax, a small smile gracing her lips as she spotted a bottle of wine in each of his hands.

“Figured you’d still be here cause ya’ weren’t answerin’ ya’ bloody phone,” he made his way across the office, and Whimsy noted that he was now wearing a pair of skintight black skinny jeans and a large, comfy tan knit sweater, “Started to worry me, pet,” he sent her a pointed look and all she could do was sheepishly smile, “But then I just called ya’ loft and they informed me you still hadn’t come in fo’ the night, so I knew you were here. Figured you could use some wine right about now.”

“I’m sorry I worried you, but also I’m not because it got me wine,” she stood up and walked over to him, her hands grabbing onto the fabric of his soft sweater and tugging it softly, “Looks comfy, I’m jealous,” she pouted, and Harry looked down at her with an amused expression as she sighed; it was always funny to him how short and small she truly was when her heels were off, but he loved it.

“Let’s get some wine in ya’, and you’ll start feeling cozy too, hopefully,” he placed both bottles on her desk and quickly opened one up (he had brought his own wine cork, because the last time he showed up to her office with wine, neither of them had a wine cork and it was a disaster trying to get the damned thing open), grabbing a glass from her desk and filling it up, handing it off to her before filling his own up.

For the next few hours they both sat on the floor of her office, papers and her laptop in front of them as they worked until they physically felt like they both were going to explode.

“Fucking finally,” she breathed as they had eventually resolved the issue, setting everything back to where it needed to be. She threw herself back onto the floor, sending Harry a large, wine drunk smile as she looked up at him, which he quickly reciprocated, leaning down next to her on his side and propping himself up on his elbow to look down at her.

“Told ya’ we’d be able to fix it, pet,” both were tipsy, but not enough to hamper their judgement or cause them to not remember anything tomorrow.

“I like when you call me pet,” Whimsy spoke softly, one of her hands reaching up so she could trail her finger along his cheekbone, “Like when you call me anything actually, except for Miss. Smith,” her nose scrunched up, causing Harry to laugh as he caught her wandering hand in his own, holding onto it, “Makes me feel like I’m old. Like I’m my grandma, not that there’s anything wrong with her, she was a lovely woman but I’m young,” she rambled on, her cheeks heating up from the warmth that was spreading throughout the hand that Harry was holding.

“Mmhm,” he agreed, his eyes trailing along her body, lingering at the waistband of her skirt longer than they should, which Whimsy was quick to notice, but she didn’t see the intention behind the lingering stare.

“It’s uncomfortable,” she whined, referring to the skirt which took Harry a moment to catch onto before he was sending her a smirk.

“Take it off then, love,” his voice was deep and slow as he spoke, the alcohol running through his veins clearly catching up with his mouth. He expected her to swat at him and tell him to screw off, something he was used to when he would flirt with her, but instead she jumped up and began unzipping the back of the skirt, causing his eyes to widen, “Shit, love.. I was kidding,” he spoke frantically as he sat up, but he wasn’t sure if his heart was racing because his boss was about to take her skirt off in front of him or… well, that was truly the only reason.

“I knoooow,” she huffed, struggling with the zipper before her eyes lit up in victory as she yanked it down, “But it was a good suggestion. So, I’m listening, because this stupid thing has been annoying me all day,” she was now tugging it down her thighs, and Harry couldn’t help the audible groan he let out as her red lace panties came into clear view, and he knew if she turned around he would finally have a perfect view of her ass. Soon the skirt was pooling around her ankles and the tight fitting white button up she had tucked into it was falling loosely around her hips.

In that moment, Harry was thanking god the only light in the room was coming from her laptop and the city lights that were streaming in through the wall in her office, which was just glass, or she would be able to see the clear bulge that was now straining against his pants. He let out a huff and stood up slowly, realizing he really had to get them both home, their own homes, or he was going to lose it. Except when he turned to face her again and saw her leaning against her desk, he knew he was fucked.

“Thank you for helping me tonight,” she spoke, breaking the silence as she watched him, her hands resting on her desk as he walked up to her, his hand coming up as he captured his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, tugging on it lightly.

“We should probably get home, kitten,” if Harry had been paying attention, he would’ve noticed the way Whimsy clenched her thighs together as the pet name kitten rolled off his tongue; it was the first time he had ever used it on her, and she wanted to hear it again.

“Kitten, hm? That’s a new one,” she reached out for his sweater, as she had done when he first got there, but this time she was tugging him towards her, causing him to stumble over his feet and his hands to catch onto her desk on either side of her hips, “Think I like it the most.”

“Is that so?” His lips were now dangerously close to hers, both of their breaths mingling; Harry wanted to kiss her in that very moment, but he knew the second they kissed things would change. Both of them could feel the tension in the room, and it was clear by the way Whimsy was currently wrapping her bare legs around his hips and pushing him in-between her legs that she didn’t want to ignore it.

Without thinking it over, his lips attached themselves to her jaw, slowly making their way down her neck until he heard her take in a sharp breath as he came across her soft spot. His lips quickly puckered around the skin, sucking it into his mouth as his hands moved to grip onto her hips, pressing his bulge into her now wet core. She let out a quiet whimper as he grinded against her clothed center, her hands slipping under his sweatshirt and trailing over his defined chest, causing him to bite down on the skin harshly before he traced his tongue over it to sooth the sting. Harry wasn’t sure exactly where any of this was going, but the second she moaned out his name, he couldn’t stop his hand from slipping into her panties and quickly flicking over her clit before tracing down her slick walls.

“Harry…” she whimpered, causing him to release the skin of her neck, his eyes now moving to where his hand was working against her center, watching as her hips grinded into his hand. He pulled away for a moment, his eyes watching hers as he rolled the sleeves of his sweatshirt up before moving his hand back to her and slowly slipping a finger inside of her tight cunt, his eyes squeezing shut as he felt how tight she was around his finger before he slowly slipped another inside of her. She was absolutely drenched, making it easy for him to quickly move his fingers in and out of her at a pace that had her back falling against her desk as her breathing picked up, not so quiet whimpers leaving her mouth as he skillfully applied pressure onto her clit with his thumb.

“Ya so fuckin’ wet, kitten,” he groaned, watching his fingers move in and out of her core, each time coming out even slicker than before; he could feel her clit throbbing under the pressure of his thumb, and the sight of her withering underneath his hands as she chased her orgasm against his fingers made him wonder what she would look like as his mouth was on her. Both of his fingers curled inside of her, dragging along her walls slowly before applying continued pressure onto that one spongy spot inside of her, causing her back to arch off her desk as she called out his name.

“Fuck, Harry… fuck m’ so close,” she was an absolute mess underneath him, but Harry wasn’t done with her, not yet. The second he saw her legs start to shake he quickly removed his fingers from inside of her, causing her to let out a distressed cry, her eyes flying open and quickly widening as she saw him slipping the fingers that had been inside of her into his mouth, his tongue lapping up her slickness.

“Do ya mind if I properly taste ya?” His hands were already curling around the edges of her panties, just waiting for her to give him permission. She nodded her head quickly, a chorus of “yes’s” leaving her mouth, causing Harry to smirk as he dragged her panties down her legs and got down on his knees, leaving him eye level with her dripping core.

He slowly dragged a finger over her sensitive clit causing her to take in a sharp breath, but nothing prepared her for the feeling of his lips sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth. His hands were on either side of her thighs, pushing them apart as he traced his tongue across her entrance, quickly dipping inside of her cunt causing him to moan against her. Whimsy’s hands flew to the hair on top of his head, quickly grabbing onto the strands and yanking on them softly as he dragged his lips back over her clit, sucking on it until she was seeing stars. His fingers quickly found a home inside of her cunt once again, his mouth never once letting up on her swollen nub. She couldn’t do much but whimper Harry’s name and tug on his hair, but that seemed to be enough to spur him on. He had never seen a more beautiful sight, and he was sure in this moment he could spend forever between her thighs, watching her wither and struggle to catch her breath. The combination of him sucking on her clit and pounding his fingers into her wet cunt mercilessly was enough to send Whimsy over the edge, her mouth opening against a silent cry as her legs began to tremble as she released around his fingers, struggling to blink the white spots in front of her eyes away as she caught her breath.

“Harry,” she whined as he continued to work her through her orgasm, her hands trying to push him away from her oversensitive clit, causing him to smirk against her. With one final kiss to the sensitive nub, he pulled away, the sight of his chin now covered in her release absolutely sinful as he repeated his actions from earlier and placed his fingers inside of his mouth, licking them clean.

“Reckon I should call ya kitten more,” he commented as he wiped his chin off on the back of his hand, causing her to let out a breathless laugh. He was quick to gather her panties off the floor and slide them back up her legs, helping her sit up so he could slide them over her ass.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly, stepping down from her desk on wobbly legs and Harry was quick to place his hands on her hips to steady her, sending her a smirk that had her melting once again.

“My pleasure, kitten.”

What the hell had they just done?

A Home

Prompt: Batmom meets Jason Todd.
A/N: Next up is Tim Drake!

Living in Crime Alley was practically a death sentence. The strongest of adults couldn’t even survive there, so you doubted a kid could.

But that was before you met Jason Todd.

Usually, when Bruce went out on patrol, you stayed back in the batcave with a book and a hot cup of tea.

Ever since Dick left Gotham after a huge argument with your husband, the atmosphere of the whole manor was dimmer. With your baby boy all grown up, it made you miss being a parent. You missed raising someone, and you especially missed being called ‘mom’.

So when Bruce came home with a boy not much older than twelve, you had to blink to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

By the amount of dirt on his clothes and the ribs practically poking out of his skin, you knew immediately that he couldn’t have come from a home. Or rather, a good one anyways. 

“Who’s this?” You asked softly, noticing how visibly weary the boy was due to being in an unknown environment. 

“You’re-you’re that rich lady my ma used to talk about!” The boy blurted out, not giving Bruce the chance to answer. He glanced unsurely up at the Dark Knight, slowly putting the pieces together. 

Bruce sighed and removed his cowl. If it was even possible, the boy’s eyes grew even wider, much to your amusement. 

“Welcome back, Master Bruce.” Alfred greeted, entering the batcave only to halt at the sight of the preteen. He raised an eyebrow. “And who may this be?” 

You stood up and treaded closer to the pair, carefully examining the boy’s expression.

You may have been brought up in a good neighborhood, but you knew all-too well about the people who weren’t as lucky. If they felt the least bit threatened, they would act on it. It was what they were used to do. 

“This is -” 

“My name’s Jason Todd!” Jason cuts in, glaring at Bruce. You smirked, admiring his boldness. Just a few seconds ago he was tense and anxious, but now that he was certain none of you were going to harm him, he was more at ease, though it was obvious that he was still cautious. “I don’t need anyone talking for me, Bats”

“Bruce,” You said, advising him to use your husband’s real name. His eyes flickered to you, and you smiled warmly, “It’s nice to meet you, Jason.”

Jason went blank for a moment before he slowly nodded, “Now I understand why my ma was so jealous of you.” 

Was. The smile on your lips disappeared. The thought of any kid losing a parent before they were old enough to fully take care of themselves hurt your heart. And by the anger hiding deep within his blue eyes, you knew that Jason was far from being like both Dick and Bruce. 

Jason had experienced things neither had ever had to experience. He had to do things to survive while Bruce and Dick were fortunate enough to have come from a good and stable family. 

“He’ll be staying with us from now on,” Bruce informed you and Alfred. 

“Until he’s legal, I’m sure.” Alfred said dryly, though you could tell that he was happy to have Jason here.

“That’s the plan.” Bruce nodded, cracking a smile. After joining his side, he took your hand and gave you a quick kiss. He asked, “Have you eaten yet?” 

“Of course I have.” You replied, glancing down at Jason who was observing everything around him. “Are you hungry, Jason?”

Jason’s eyes immediately lit up. “Do you have any chili dogs?”

You laughed and Jason found himself grinning along with you. He couldn’t remember the last time he smiled, but there was something about you that made him…made him almost feel like a normal kid.

Since you and Bruce always seemed to make headlines, he’d read and seen you on the news a lot. He was never really curious about the two of you, only thinking that you were like every other rich snob in town, but now that he finally met you, he could tell that the Waynes were far from being like your normal billionaires.

“Chili dogs?” Alfred said, sounding quite offended by the boy’s choice of food. 

“How about we go get you cleaned up while Alfred prepares it for you.” You suggested, holding out your hand for Jason to take. 

Jason stared at it. If I’m gonna live here now, I’ll have to make an effort, he thought to himself.

He took in a deep breath and hesitantly slipped his hand into yours. The two of you locked eyes and you gave him an assuring squeeze.

“You better get cleaned up too, Wayne.” You told your husband sternly before leading Jason up to his new room in his new home. 

He finally had a home

Damian and Dating

So Damian is incredibly socially awkward, right? And the only real tutelage on relationships probably came from his mom and grandpa, who are basically royalty and obsessed with bloodlines and heirs. Arranged marriages is probably a /thing/ for them. So Damian doesn’t really understand the concept of dating. So when he decides he wants to pursue Jon, he’s just like, whelp I guess I’m gonna propose to him now. And he buys a giant sparkling ring cuz he’s a rich snob and proposes to him. And Jon is just so sweet and innocent and loving that when Damian asks him to be his husband, he’s just like “…Oh. Okay, yeah, that sounds nice.”

So Damian brings Jon back to the manor to make their announcement. Dick is there. Damian tells him about their engagement and Dick is all like “Damian you’re 15 years old. That’s not how this works. That’s not how ANY of this works.” At this point Jason and Tim walk in and Dami is mid-argument with Dick, saying, “Well what do you expect of me? To be a harlot like you, sleeping around until I’m twenty five?” (And Jason and Tim are just like “ooooohhhh buuuuurn” in the background like they’re middle school kids) and Dami says “I’ve found the one I wish to spend my life with, and I have taken him for my own.” And poor sweet Jon is just watching this like Oh My Fuck what did I just get myself into??? Then Bruce comes home and he and Damian start arguing over courtship practices and when to schedule the wedding and Jason and Tim are dying of laughter in the background while Jon slowly backs away and out of the manor.

Disposable pt 15

Being friends with benefits with Min Yoongi can be complicated (at best) by itself. But when you accidentally tell your family (and his boss) that the two of you are dating, things get messy. It only complicates things more when you blackmail Yoongi into pretending to date you, and neither of you can quite keep your feelings separate, no matter how much you try.

Angst, fluff, slight smut at times.

Yoongi x Reader

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14


Once you got a grip of yourself, you made your way back outside to the party. You avoided Yoongi for the rest of the night, busying yourself talking to anyone but him. Part of you wanted to demand to know why he always had to hurt you, and what you had ever done to deserve it. Another part of you wanted to crawl under the covers of your bed and cry while eating ice cream. Neither were options at the moment, so you settled for evasion. Not that Yoongi was making that very easy, he kept trying to talk to you. He would catch your elbow and ask if he could have a minute, and you would blow him off every time.

“I’m busy.” You said for what had to be the tenth time that night.

“You’re really not, this time. Please, can you just tell me what’s going on with you?” Yoongi pleaded. His eyes looked genuine, and you realized that all the smiles and laughter from the previous day must have been all a show—maybe so it would all hurt that much more when it was over. You guessed you should have known, from the day you first met Namjoon for lunch you had seen that Yoongi was a good actor. In the back of your mind, a little voice was saying that it was your fault for blackmailing him in the first place, because who wouldn’t want revenge in some way after that?

“Nothing is ‘going on’ with me. Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”

Yoongi’s eyes flashed with hurt, and he dropped the hand that was holding your arm. “I don’t get it, what did I do?”

You let out a sigh of frustration. “I said we would talk later.”

You could see the beginnings of annoyance on Yoongi’s face, which just furthered your own. He was the one who was always going out of his way to hurt you, but you don’t want to talk to him for once and he gets his feelings hurt? It wasn’t fair, none of it was, and you realized you didn’t even have anyone to talk to about it. The only person who knew your whole situation with Yoongi was Jackson, and he had left abruptly several hours earlier. He said something about getting an urgent phone call and ran off before you ever got a chance to talk to him.

Taehyung was waving to you, and you walked over to where he sat slightly reluctantly. He was holding his cat, the one he twisted his ankle rescuing, kissing its head before looking back at you. “What’d he do?” He asked. You weren’t particularly happy with Taehyung at the moment either, as long as he had known you (and your mother) you felt like he should have known better than to repeat what Yoongi said to your mother, but you knew that it must have been an accident. Your mother was good at getting exactly whatever information she wanted out of someone, and if Taehyung hadn’t given it to her, someone else would have eventually.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said tersely. Taehyung rolled his eyes at you, scratching behind the cat’s ears.

“You look like you want to punch Yoongi every time you look at him.”

“You know what, Taehyung? Our relationship really isn’t any of your business. In fact, it isn’t any of anyone’s business, so I don’t know why everyone has to know everything about it all of the time.”

“You’re mad at Yoongi, not me, remember?” Taehyung raised his eyebrows.

“No, I’m mad at everyone who seems to think they have some right to know everything about my life. I shouldn’t have to justify everything I do to everyone I know.” Maybe some of your anger was misplaced, but you couldn’t be bothered to care at the moment. You turned on your heals and walked away from where a completely bewildered Taehyung sat. You didn’t bother to talk to anyone you passed by, ignoring their attempts to gain your attention. You passed Jungkook walking up the stairs to go inside, and he caught your eye for a moment.

“Are you okay?”

“I wish people would stop fucking asking me that.” You snapped as you walked passed him.


The bedroom door clicked behind Yoongi, but he didn’t move further into the room. The party had finally ended, and you still weren’t talking to him. He had decided that maybe he should just let you have your space, but you still had to share a room.

You were on your phone when he walked in, and looked up briefly to scoff and roll your eyes before turning your eyes back to the screen.

“Look, if I did something, you have to talk to me. Just being angry isn’t going to fix anything.” He said, trying to contain his own annoyance. You were being a child, and he really didn’t have the patience for it right then.

“Right, like that would do any good. You just want to hear how miserable I am. You’re a fucking sadist.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

It sounds super angsty, but if you haven't already written it, maybe an unrequited, one-sided love thing between the RFA guys and MC?

I’ve been really busy lately, sorry :C 

Warning: Angst/Heartbreak

–R.I.


Yoosung

He was so welcoming, warmly including you in everything

He would text you all the time, venting his frustrations about LOLOL—he trusted you out of all the RFA, after all

Soon, it turned into calls, where he happily chatted away to you as he gamed

“Pffft hahaha, you’re so funny, MC!! You always make my gaming nights better…” his enthusiastic response made your heart race. “I love talking to you, MC.”

You took pride in that.

He became more and more special to you, and it warmed your heart every time you talked to him. You wanted to learn more about him.

He always took interest in what you said, and listened attentively even to your pointless, frustrated rants. He sincerely responded to your concerns, and often brought up inside jokes in the chat room, forming a barrier between the two of you and everyone else.

A special little world that nobody else could enter.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he shyly told you. It was finally the day before the RFA party. Your heart beat quickly, warm fuzziness bubbling in your chest.

“Yoosung… I have something to tell you tomorrow,” you decided, blushing as you told him. He was the one who made you feel happy…the one who cracked jokes and made you laugh on your gloomiest days… the one who listened to all your troubles. He hummed softly, murmuring, “Okay. There’s something I’ve also been meaning to tell you, too. I’m worried if I’ll be rejected but… I can’t hold back anymore.”

That night, you couldn’t sleep from pure anticipating of the next day. You woke up early to make yourself look as pretty as possible for Yoosung. First impressions were important, after all.

Upon arriving at the party hall, you immediately recognized him—you were in love with him, after all. You called out to him happily, and he rushed over with a big smile on his face, but it almost immediately turned into a frown as he reached you.

“You’re Yoosung, right?! I’m MC!” you exclaimed, beaming happily.

“I see. You look… different than I thought you would,” he murmured, a distant look in his eyes as he avoided your gaze. “I thought you’d maybe have like, blonde hair and green eyes, or something.”

Your heart caught in your throat as soon as the words left his mouth. Rika. He’d expected you to look like Rika. Biting back tears, you forced a giggle, as if he’d just said something funny.

“So, what did you want to tell me?” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t really have time to talk, so can you make it quick?”

Yoosung seemed so annoyed and irritated by your mere presence, guiltlessly expressing it in his words, tone and body language. It was a complete turnaround from the sweet boy you had known for the last few weeks. Correction: the sweet boy you thought you had known.

“Nothing important,” you muttered, clenching your fists as tears spilled from your eyes. “I was in love with you. I am in love with you. And I guess I know now that you’ll never feel the same.”

He stared back expressionlessly at you. “Love? I’m sorry, but it’s impossible for me to ever like you back. You’re really far off from my type,” he laughed as if it was a joke.

You couldn’t figure out what the hell was so funny. He was laughing at the way you had felt for him for months. He was laughing at the feelings you had cherished. He was laughing at you.

And it only smashed what remained of your heart to smithereens.

He was never in love with you.

Zen

From the moment you first met him, he’d been flirty and welcoming to you. He was always protective of you in the chatrooms, and he called you often to check up on you, asking things like:

“MC, have you eaten today? I hope you’re taking care of yourself properly, I’ll get worried, you know…”

“Hey… Can you see the moon from where you are? When you look at the moon at night, I want you to think of me… watching over you like your very own guardian angel. If you ever need anything, you know that I’m here right?”

“Do I need to beat up Jumin for you?! He was being way too insensitive just now!”

Naturally, you felt gravitated to Zen. He made you feel so… secure. He was always offering to help you, talking with you late at night, comforting you when you were sad… He made you feel so damn special. He sure didn’t treat Jaehee like this, and you took quiet, guilty pride in that.

A week after you realized that you had fallen in love with him—his caring personality, his deep thoughts, his laugh, his passion for acting… his everything—he asked you out on a date.

You almost screamed into your pillow from excitement. Did he like you back?! Could Zen possibly return your feelings?

You waited for him in the cafe, your eyes anxiously searching for his figure. You had taken 3 hours to braid your own hair (with great difficulty), and chose the perfect outfit to meet with him for the date. You waited 2 hours for him, sitting all alone. But he never came.

You dialled his phone number, wondering if he was stuck in traffic or late from rehearsals. He picked up on the second tone, drunkenly answering, “Mmn… hello, who’s this?”

“Um, Zen? It’s me, MC… did something happen? I’m still waiting…”

He howled in laughter, sounding like he was really enjoying himself. “You’re still waiting?! What the fuck, woman, what makes you think you’re anything special to me? I was only betting with my friend that I could make you fall for me. I can’t believe you fell for it so easily.”

He continued to laugh, finding it absolutely hilarious that you believed his nice guy act. He had purposely stood you up. Rather, he never intended to come in the first place.

His words were like a slap to your face. It was obvious now.

Zen didn’t care about you at all.

You stayed quiet, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were actually crying right now.

You had wasted so much time on him. All because you liked him, and because you thought he could even possibly like you back.

“Helloooo? Are you still there?” he hiccupped.

You couldn’t answer, holding back your sobs.

“Oh right, anyway, thanks for helping me win the bet. Haha, byeee!”

“Yeah. No problem. Anything for you, Zen,” you weakly replied, sarcasm hidden in your undertone.

But it was true. You would have done anything for him. He’d just never do the same for you.

Jumin

From the start, you’d been attracted to his unique sense of humour, awkward personality, and passion for cats. Not to mention, he was pretty fucking rich.

Although you weren’t after him for the money, you had to admit, it was part of what interested you at first. Emphasis on “at first.”

After spending evenings at fancy dinners with him, long nights drinking in bars after work hours, and occasionally messaging each other every day possible… you realized how much more there was to Jumin than you’d originally thought.

Although he seemed carefree and pushed all the tasks to Jaehee, he actually drowned himself in work for hours as well. When you spent time together, he would always be jotting down notes and reading printed documents as he conversed with you—he was probably used to it from discussing business deals all the time.

Not to mention, he was very attached to his cat because he didn’t have the time nor opportunity to interact with anyone that wasn’t trying to conduct business with him. You could feel your own heart hurt for him, realizing how lonely he must be.

Not to mention the fact that there were many young men (such as Zen,) who thought of Jumin as a rich snob, and was against the idea of being friendly. You could only imagine how rejected Jumin must feel, despite acting nonchalant every time.

Your heart and mind was consumed with thoughts of Jumin, of how he felt, of how he was suffering… You yearned to know him better, and you found yourself being more eager than ever in your conversations and nights out together.

One night, you finally brought up the courage to bring up the topic of himself. Excited to share your opinion, you said, “You know, I completely understand that you must feel lonely and all, even though you never mention it! It must suck that nobody understands you… You’re always working so hard, and nobody ever acknowledges it, but I know that-“

He paused mid-sip from his wine, then slowly put the glass down. “MC.” His voice was cold, stern and almost tired. “Why are you saying this?”

You blushed. “Well… I mean… I guess I’ve fallen in love with you,” you whispered, looking shyly into your lap. “I’ve learned so much about you over all this time, and-“

He scoffs, eyes hardening into a glare. “MC… Do you really believe that you know me?” he asks, shaking his head in disbelief. “Everything that you just said… is it not simply your idea of me? You’re not in love with me, MC. You’re in love with the ideal version of me that you’ve created in your own head. Could you be any more delusional and hypocritical when you say that no one understands me? You don’t know me either, MC. Don’t fool yourself otherwise.”

You return his glare with a pleading gaze. “That’s not it, Jumin! I really do understand! I’m not assuming, but it’s just what I’ve realized after spending so much time with you-“

Again, he cut you off. He seemed to be doing that a lot today.

“I only spent time with you to ensure that you would remain subservient to the RFA. Our meetings were like business to me, MC.”

He stood up, turning to leave you alone at the table. A lone $100 bill was all that sat with you.

Seven

This kid was absolutely hilarious! He took on such a cheerful persona in the chatrooms, cracking jokes at random and spamming memes everywhere. But he really did make you laugh.

On days when you felt gloomy, tired of every little thing that was happening in your life, and overall upset, Seven managed to cheer you up, sending you cute texts. They ranged from, “Your Defender of Justice, SEVEN OH SEVEN, will protect your happiness!!” to pictures of his own cosplay, where he attempted (attempted.) to look seductive.

He quickly gained a special place in your heart. Not everyone managed to cheer you up just like that.

One day after the RFA party, Seven invited everyone to the zoo. During the trip, you kept trying to get closer to him, standing near him as you pretended to be awed by the penguins… ‘accidentally’ bumping into him… lying that you didn’t have money to buy a drink and asking to share…

(Although, FYI, that last one didn’t work. Why? Well, the trust fund kid was there, duh.)

Seven drove you and Yoosung home, considering Zen took his motorcycle, and Jaehee tagged along with Jumin to return to the office. After Yoosung left, you were nervous to be alone with the man that you’d grown feelings for.

Almost as if reading your mind, Seven broke the silence, “MC. I’m not suggesting that this is possible, but if you think that you have any sort of feelings for me, please forget it. I… will never fall in love.”

You stared at him quietly, unsure what to say. You hadn’t been TOO obvious in expressing your feelings… you’d really as subtle as subtle could get!

Instead, you opted for, “I don’t get what you’re talking about?”

He glanced at you from the side before turning his eyes back to the road. “You can ignore what I’m saying if you haven’t had any weird thoughts about us being anything more than friends. But otherwise, just be aware that I’ll never fall in love with anyone okay? This isn’t some crappy fairytale. It’s real life, and you’re not going to waltz into my life and change it.”

You nodded slowly, avoiding looking in his direction. “Uhm, yeah…” you awkwardly responded, voice barely above a whisper.

What the hell were you supposed to say? You’d been rejected before you even had the chance to confess. Haha. Ahaha.

The tears welled up in your eyes before you knew it. But you couldn’t let him see. At the very least, you wouldn’t let him know how his words had affected you. You wouldn’t let him know that you actually had fallen in love with him, that his warning came too late.

You wouldn’t allow yourself to ruin the friendship between you two. Seven was too important to you.

You dashed out of his car as soon as he pulled over on your street, not even daring to say goodbye.

Love, Hate Relationship. - Stiles Stilinski Smut

Originally posted by itsagirlthingbae

Warnings: NSFW SMUT!!!!

Word Count: 1.2k

Disclaimer: Kind of want to make this into a series. ILY 

Stiles Stilinski was a world class asshole. He knew how to push just about every single one of your buttons and make you practically pull out your hair. The reason you and him didn’t get along was because you two were both super stubborn and always thinking your right even if you’re wrong. So today was no exception, as you sat at the lunch table with the pack, you and Stiles started bickering about nothing really. Scott was used to it but everybody else found it a little annoying but there was really no way of stop the two of you. Besides that, the pack was planning on how to find out what Theo was doing with his pack of chimeras. The plan was to follow them out to the Beacon Hills look out and investigate on what they were doing. But there was a catch. “Well the thing is, the Chimeras are very good at sensing other supernatural beings but, with humans it’s not as easy to track the smell.” Scott said as he looked at you and Stiles. “No way, I’m not going with Y/n, absolutely no way!” He said. “Yeah I can go by myself I don’t need Stiles to go with me, plus he’s really no help anyways.” You smiled at Scott; Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes. Malia growled “Shut up the both of you, you guys are going, Scott even said so. So just get along for one freaking night that’s all we’re asking.” Everyone in the pack looked impressed but you and Stiles. You really had no way out of this so you both growled a unison ‘okay’. And the rest of the plan was made.

Hopping into the blue jeep with a sigh kicking your feet up on the dash. Your outfit was semi black and so was Stiles’. You needed to blend in, and it was approaching night so black was your best bet. Stiles talked with Scott for just a second longer then hopped into the jeep with a slight growl. “Off.” He said as he started his jeep. “Nah, I’m good.” You replied. He looked at you and for the first time in forever, you didn’t hate him as much as you usually do. His golden eyes glinted in the moon light and his hair was qiffed in the perfect manner. You found him really irresistible but you would never tell him that. As he looked at you he almost looked hungry. “Let’s get this show on the road.” You said while still looking deep into his eyes.  His eyes left you and you almost felt sad.

The drive to the lookout was awkward. The heat between your legs was starting to get worse and worse.  You squeezed your legs together to get some king of friction there. “How do we know they’re going to be there?” You questions picking at your nails. “We don’t, Scott seems to think they are going to be so we go and wait.” He replied. Pulling over onto the shoulder of the lookout making sure you were completely hidden, you and Stiles just sat and waited. With the most awkward silence, you just stared into the black trees waiting for any sign of Theo or one of the Chimeras for about 30 minutes. Getting tired of the silence you commented something that was in your mind the whole night. “What a great way to spend a Friday night.” You laughed and so did he. “What would you even be doing?” He scoffed. “Well as a matter of fact Stilinski I would be having a very hot date with Netflix.” He looked at you again, “Well I would be having an actual date with an actual girl. Not that you know anything about that.” “You know what, why do you have to put me down legit all the time?” “Because If I don’t do it, nobody else will.” When that came out of his mouth it hurt. The fact that he actually does it because nobody else will really pisses you off. “You know what Stilinski fuck off.” You grabbed the door handle and ripped the door open then slamming it shut while walking into the pitch black trees. Stiles got out of the jeep but not immediately, showing you that it wasn’t really a problem of his that you were mad.  “You know you’re going to get lost.” He says trailing behind you. The only thing lighting up the blackness was the moonlight and you tiny flashlight on your phone screen. “Rather get lost than sit another minute in that jeep with you.”  You yelled. Coming across a lake house with the lights lit up, you sat on the bench off onto the distance of it. It must have been a party thrown by some rich snob. It wasn’t as nice as Lydia’s lake house but it was still pretty nice. Stiles surprisingly came up behind you and sat next to you. “Good thing we didn’t get lost.” You just starred at the party going on. The events that happened next just pissed you off even more than you had already been. Stiles hand planted itself on your upper thigh and started moving its way up your skirt. You looked at him with a warning look but you didn’t stop him.

“What baby girl, don’t like to play a little dirty sometimes?” He whispered in your ear simultaneously riding his hand closer and closer to your core. Your breath hitched in your throat from the nickname. A boost of confidence surged through your blood, “Why what are you going to do… Daddy?” After that everything went haywire. Stiles roughly grabbed your neck and connected your lips obviously liking the nickname you gave him. Teeth clashing, tongues battling for dominance, his obviously won. Picking you up and setting you on top of the picnic table, he roughly unzipped your jacket and ripped open your button up. You yelped when he did this which just gave him even more confidence. “How do you want to play baby girl? Hmm? You want to go rough or go soft?” “I don’t know daddy. You’re in charge.” He took that as a yes and started UN buttoning his pants and sliding them down to his ankles then he did the same to yours.

Stiles wasn’t very patient at the moment so there wasn’t very much foreplay. “Sorry baby but I need you; I’ll take you home and take my time with you later.” You moaned in response and he rammed his hard dick right into you. The scream you gave could have made anyone worried if they cared enough but in Beacon Hills there was always someone screaming over something. Stiles was very experience and he hit just about ever spot perfectly every time. As his hand came down on to your back side that’s when you knew that this won’t be the only hook up of yours. The moan that came out of you and the growl that came out of his mouth was so sexy it almost made you cum. “Daddy, I’m close.” You choked out. “Me to baby girl, me too.” With that you both let go.

The getting dressed after wasn’t as awkward as you would think it actually was kind of nice. “Stiles.” He hummed an ‘Hmm’ in response. “Why do you hate me?” He looked back at you as he slid his shirt on and handed you his jacket because he ripped your shirt. “I only hated you because I couldn’t have you.” “Well you have me now.”

 Stiles Stilinski was an asshole but you saw a whole new side of him tonight that you haven’t seen before.

Mr. Barnes (Part 2 out of ?)

(A/N): I’m so glad everyone is liking this series so far!

Summary: Living in 1940′s Brooklyn as a crime lord is all fun and games until someone falls in love

Warnings: swearing, mentions of rape

Read Part 1:

(Tags at the end) 


Originally posted by livvy1800

 Bucky sat at his oak desk, a cigar hanging out of his mouth as he breathed in deeply. Ever since that run in with that…with that slum kid Bucky hadn’t been able to keep his mind off of them. Their rosy cheeks and bright eyes kept perforating his thoughts, making it impossible to think about much else. He had business deals to think off, he had other gangs to think about, he had to worry about some prick in England talking shit about him, he didn’t have time to focus on that low life nobody. With a sigh Bucky tossed his cigar into an ash tray, running his hands down his scruffy face. It was nearly half an hour later when A quiet knock on his study door is what finally broke him Out of his stupor. 

   "Yeah?“ Bucky’s voice was hoarse, much more than usual. The tall oak doors swung open to reveal Dot, Bucky’s saving grace, wearing nothing but a silk robe he had bought them for valentines day. "Hello there dot,” Bucky smirks as Dot waltz in, swaying her hips as she made her way to Bucky’s heavy desk. 

   "Hiya Mr. Barnes,“ she smirks as she stops before him, resting her hands on the arms of his chair. "I’ve been missin’ ya today,” Bucky hums as he leans forward, almost touching his lips against hers. 

    “Have you now?” Dot nods, her lips parting in a sultry fashion as she does. 

   "You’re favorite girl is feeling a bit neglected,“

    "Oh, we can’t have that,” Bucky smirks as he grabs Dot’s ass, bringing her down onto his lap. “Now can we?” Dot gasps at the contact, shifting a bit, rubbing herself against Bucky’s leg enticingly. 

   "Sit back and let Mr. Barnes take care of ya, eh?“


 (Y/N) bit their lip as they eyed all the couples dancing, trying so desperately to keep their mind off of their run in a few days prior. They had just run into one of the most dangerous thugs in all of America, the man had everyone in his pocket, he could get away with murder and no one would bat an eye and yet (Y/N) ran into him and here they were, able to tell the tale. 

   With a shaky sigh (Y/N) reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind their ear, even though it wasn’t necessary. Honestly (Y/N) was trying their best to keep busy, even the most mundane tasks would help focus (Y/N)’s mind on things other than the dark haired, mysterious thug. 

    "Hey sweetcheeks,” a rather harsh, almost smoker like voice drawls in (Y/N)’s ear, sending shivers down their spine. “I couldn’t help but notice you here all alone, how bout you get up and dance with me.” His words were poised as a question but his tone hinted otherwise. (Y/N) gulps, steeling themself against the strange man.

    “I’m sorry sir but I really don’t feel like-" 

    "It wasn’t a Question sweetheart,” he grips (Y/N)’s arm painfully tight, leaving them to whimper in pain. “Now get up or I’ll make you get up,” it was either go willingly or against their own will and (Y/N) most definitely wasn’t all too thrilled about the second idea. So with shaking legs and a trembling lip (Y/N) stood from their spot, following the sketchy looking man out to the dance floor. His strong hands settle on their waist as he yanks them close, their hips pushed flush against his. “What’s your name kid?” (Y/N) trembles on the spot as they reluctantly dance with the man, praying that someone would notice how uncomfortable they were and come out a stop to it. But no one did, they all kept their gazes elsewhere, completely ignoring (Y/N) and the man. “I asked you a question kid,” The man growls dangerously, gripping (Y/N)’s hips enough to leave bruises.

    “I-I’m (Y/N),” they stutter, fear getting the better of their voice. The man hums, a sick smile overtaking his features. 

   "Such a pretty name…you wanna know my name kid?“ 

    "N-no,” (Y/N) manages a bit of sass, almost proud of themself for being able to have such attitude towards such a man. “Not really,”

    “It’s Brock fucking Rumlow,” He leans in, biting down on their earlobe slightly, sending the poor kid shuddering in fear. 

   Brock Rumlow- one of the most notorious gangs in all of Brooklyn, perhaps in the entire state. 

   Two mobsters in the course of a week? It seemed nearly implausible and yet here (Y/N) was, still reeling from their run in with Bucky and now their contact with Brock. 

   “No sassy remarks anymore, eh?” 

   “Get off of me,” (Y/N) mutters, pushing at his chest weakly. Their lungs were still trying to recover from the harsh weather, leaving them feeling much weaker than the usually were. 

   “Aww, aren’t’chu you a cutie?” He purrs, his sickening smile never once leaving his lips. “I ought to wrap you up and take you home with me….” Brock growls as he licks his lips, his cold gaze running up and down (Y/N)’s form. “Oh sweetheart, the things I’d do to you,” 

   “I’m going to start screaming,” (Y/N) whispers, grunting against his hold. Their squirming comes to an abrupt stop when the feeling of something cool presses into their neck. 

   “Scream and I’ll slit your throat,” Brock sneers, his tone smug as he digs the point of his blade into their neck. (Y/N) whimpers softly, closing their eyes as something warm trickles down their neck, most likely leaving behind a trail of scarlet liquid. 

   “What do you want?” (Y/N) tries to sound stronger than they are but it was futile, Brock could see right through them. 

   “I just want a little fun dollface, take you back to my place, rough ya up a bit,” Brock purrs as he leans in once again, licking up the small rivulets of blood that had cascaded down (Y/N)’s neck. “Then I’m gonna send you back on your way and we’re gonna act like nothin’ happened, sound good?” (Y/N) whimpered, trying to shy away from Brock’s invading tongue to no avail, the blade kept them still, nipping at their skin in a way that had them wanting to puke. “Now, I’m gonna escort you out of here all nice and slow and you’re not gonna make a sound, got it? If you do,” Brock chuckles as she stashes his knife away. “I’m gonna make that much more painful for ya, sweetheart,” 


   Brock’s grips on (Y/N)’s arm was painfully tight, no doubt leaving finger shaped bruises in their skin. He dragged them down the streets of Brooklyn, towards the nicer area of town, to where all the rich snobs lived. No one here would care that (Y/N) was being manhandled by Brock, hell, no one in the slums even cared as they watched the tall, burly man guide the smaller human being along. Tears burned at (Y/N)’s eyes but they refused to let them fall, they had to keep some shred of dignity with this man and letting him see them cry would be the last straw. 

   “No tears huh?” Brock chuckled as he turned a corner, harshly jerking (Y/N) along with him, resulting in a few pops from their elbow. “Most of the time people are sobbing by now, begging me not to hurt them but you-” He chuckles again, shaking his head as he makes his way towards one of the nicer streets. “You’re different, maybe I really should keep ya, you seem like a firecracker,” 

   “Burn in hell,” (Y/N) growls, as they struggle a bit, pulling backwards as Brock moved forwards. Why the suddenly had fight in them now only god knows but it was there, a kindling flame of hatred and fear and dammit (Y/N) was going to use it. 

   “I suggest you stop struggling sweetheart,” Brock growls as he yanks them forward, nearly tripping them in the process. “I’m not opposed to slaughtering you right here and leaving your body to the dogs,” 

   “Let go of me!” (Y/N) yells, struggling to get away. They twisted and flailed, clawed and kicked, anything to get this man off of them but Brock was strong and he held on tightly, causing much discomfort on (Y/N)’s part. “Get off of me!” (Y/N) screamed helplessly, hoping that anyone would come to their rescue. Little did they know that just up the street there stood a man dressed to the nines, a Brazilian imported cigar hanging out of his mouth. 


   “Get off of me!’ a voice screamed down the street. Bucky looked up from his suit, a small smirk rising to his lips at their person’s frantic cry. Sounded like someone was going to get lucky tonight, maybe if he caught them in time he’d be able to join in too. Bucky chuckled as he huffed on his cigar, reveling in the high it gave him. His pristine shoes clicked down the street, creating a soft clacking against the somewhat nice pavement. It was the only other sound in the air other than the person’s screams and to be a bit morbid he was enjoying them. Call Bucky a sadist but god- that noise was like music to his ears. 

   “What the fuck did I tell you was gonna happen if you struggled, huh?” A voice growled as Bucky got closer. Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion;  that voice sounded so familiar, he could’ve sworn that he had only heard it a few days ago- Bucky comes to an abrupt stop before the source of noise, his eyes quickly taking in the rather shocking scene. It was the kid from a few days ago, the shabby, slum kid, struggling against the grasp of some tall, wide man…

   “Brock Rumlow,” Bucky growls, a small smirk rising to his lips. “How strange to see you here,” Brock stops fighting the kid immediately, his entire body going rigid at Bucky’s voice. 

   “Barnes,” Brock smiles sickeningly, that same smile that had been twisting (Y/N)’s stomach for the last half an hour. “Fancy seeing you here,” Bucky smirks as he flicks his cigar to the ground, allowing it to burn out and die slowly. 

   “Who’s the kid?” Bucky gestures to (Y/N) with a simple quirk of his head as he stuffs his hands in his pockets. 

   “Just a lil’ something I picked up earlier,” Bucky looks at (Y/N), his harsh gaze raking over their trembling form. He regarded them with a look of prejudice, sneering down at them with an upturned nose. He hoped his look was enough to convince Brock that he had no care for this (Y/N) creature when in reality the look of fear on their face had stirred something deep within him. 

   “How much do you want for ‘em?” Bucky asks coolly, as though he wasn’t bargaining this persons life right before them. 

   “Sorry Barnes but you’re out of luck, this one’s a keeper,” 

   “I don’t think you understood me,” Bucky chuckles darkly as he reaches in his suit, retrieving a small albeit dangerous handgun. “How much do you want for ‘em?” He points the end of the barrel at Brock’s stomach, inconspicuous enough that if anyone walked by they wouldn’t think anything of it. 

   “Fuck you Barnes,” Brock growls as he shoves (Y/N) towards the brunette. Bucky was quick to steady (Y/N), incidentally pulling them to his chest. “I’ll get them back,” Brock chuckles darkly as he saunters off, shaking his head as he does. “Just you wait and see,” Bucky keeps his ground as Brock saunters off, keeping (Y/N) against his chest protectively but as soon as the other mobster was out of sight Bucky broke, his facade crumbling to the ground. 

   “You alright kid?” Bucky asks as he inspects (Y/N), checking them for any wounds of any sort. 

   “Why do you care?” (Y/N) grumbles as the bat his prying hands away, being mindful not to expose their bleeding neck to him. Bucky immediately retracts his hands, as though (Y/N)’s words had burned him. 

   “Really?” Bucky chuckles dryly, shaking his head in disbelief. “I just spared your fucking life kid and now you’re gonna give me sass? I could’ve let that bastard rape and kill ya but instead I saved ya and this is the thanks I get?” (Y/N) huffs as they brush their outfit off, as though trying to get rid of any remnant of Brock. 

   “I didn’t ask for help-” (Y/N)’s sentence cuts short when Bucky grips their chin, forcing them to look into his eyes. 

   “I own this town sweetheart, I own half the country, with a snap of my fingers I could have you beaten to a bloody pulp and left at my doorstep if I so desired,” (Y/N) glares up at Bucky indignantly, flaring their nostrils angrily. “So I suggest you stay on my good side, got it?” Bucky gave them a little cheeky grin as he stepped back, wiping some ‘dust’ off their chin before turning on his heels to saunter back home, his energy for the night gone. He knew (Y/N) was glaring at his back so he turned his head, giving them a little smirk as he pulled out a new cigar, placing it between his fingers as he spoke to them. “I’ll be seeing you real soon (Y/N),” And with that the mobster turned away, lighting his cigar as he walked back home, whistling a chirpy tune. 


@training-wolves, @joyfulinfluencermoon, @barnes-and-noble-girl, @marvel-love-marvel-life, @vanessa-monique, @skeletoresinthebasement, @logan8546, @bellejeunefillesansmerci, @almondbuttercup, @saradi1018, @softwhispers, @ficbucket, @bethabear12 (If I have forgotten to tag you please tell me so I can add you!) 

Just An Interview

Originally posted by sir-henry-cavill

Originally posted by benahffleck

Requested by @myteenwolf-world: 

“Hi lovely! Could you write an imagine where the reader is Bruce Wayne’s sister and she meets Clark Kent at a party? Clark asks her out but Bruce doesn’t approve. So they go out in secret but he finds out and gets all over protective over her? Thanks in advance!”

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Notes: Love this request!!


“At least try to look like you’re enjoying yourself.” 

“This is me trying.” You huffed back before pressing the champagne glass to your lips and taking a sip of the bubbly liquid.

“Well try harder then.” Your brother retorted making you roll your eyes as he walked away to go talk to some rich snob. “Well try harder then.” You mimicked under your breath before downing the rest of your champagne. 

You didn’t understand why your brother felt the need to drag you to every single event and party the two of you were invited to, but he did. Every time you complained about going he would say something about being a ‘Wayne’ and having a ‘reputation’ to uphold. 

In your opinion your ‘reputation’ could suck it. 

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Humans are weird.

Putting some of the things that humans do into words makes them sound weird. (made with @samlicker83 )

“Sometimes dirt gets trapped under our skin and shoots out like rockets after a couple of days.”

“We ride around in giant pieces of shaped metal and leather on wheels that we have to fill with decomposed liquidized dead things to keep it running.”

“Sometimes dust particles tickles these hairs in our nose and our nose becomes a snot canon.”

“We kill baby sheep to please the sky beings that keep our crops good”

“We cut out the genitalia of animals and others sometimes and require a lot of small pieces of green paper or invisible data points to do so.” “Why the fuck-” “For our own benefit and theirs.”

“Sometimes squishy flesh rocks form inside of us and slowly kill us.”

“Our young enjoy activities such as: climbing, playing, and fucking”

“We use plastic molds of other people’s genitals to please ourselves even though there is no advantage of doing so.”

“Some of them write stories about two humans of the same gender fucking and show it to many others to gather a following. They write the stories mainly for an audience who thinks the two people in the story should become mates for life.”

“We heat up sand and look out of it instead of going outside.”

“Sometimes we reproduce while others make a permanent record of it for others to see it. That’s a job for a lot of humans.”

“Having sex with the same gender is consider wrong until the words ‘no homo bro’ are said. Then everything is completely normal in societies eyes.”

“The females of our race bleed from their genitals annually and experience unsatiable hunger, rage, and stabbing pains in their bodies while that happens.”

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more autistic rachel thoughts because i did them late last night and forgot like all of my favorite points:

  • obviously rachel is literally psychic now, but there always had to be something specific about her that would make her an ideal candidate to host delphi.
  • she’s always been super intuitive, asking very insightful questions that freaked out the stuffy rich snobs she grew up around, and sitting very silently and just observing everything about the world around her.
  • a lot of autistic people who are very intuitive and even prophetic have suggested that it’s actually a kind of very advanced subconscious pattern recognition; many autistic people are super good at spotting patterns, and if you’re good enough at it, you can predict certain things because of the pattern of details signals something to you subconsciously.
  • this extends past predicting events, and can actually affect how you see people— “he looks like he’s about to do something illegal” and then the next day you see his mugshot on the news.
  • you can bet this didn’t go over all that great with her parents. they think she’s “weird” and “odd” and she says strange things and asks questions about topics that she has no business knowing about are always trying to make her more “normal”. it’s actually really sad because she was just a bright happy kid trying to share cool information and inquisitive and curious about the world but they just…don’t receive it well at all
  • her parents took her to all kinds of doctors to try and “fix” her, but once they threw out The A Word they got too frightened by the stigma and refused to accept the diagnosis, so fortunately rachel was spared from the more horrifying “treatments”
  • but she did have her fair share of horrible aids who forced her to stop stimming by grabbing her hands or yelling at her to make eye contact
  • her parents were always torn between wanting to control her and not wanting to look like bad parents who make their kid scream in public, so if she starts to get really upset and looks like she’s on the verge of a meltdown they back off and just grudgingly let her do whatever she wants so she’ll be quiet
  • she likes to wear the same thing every day and like you know her mother is mortified about this and she doesn’t want people to think she can’t dress her kid properly so they have a lot of fights about it, but eventually rachel ends up getting her way because her mom just gets so flustered and exasperated
  • when people snap at her for “saying weird things” as a child, she goes nonverbal and just retreats into herself
  • she has a series of unsuccessful therapists and eventually her parents just get so frustrated that they stick her in art therapy bc at this point they’ll try whatever works
  • rachel LOVES art therapy
  • it’s a great sensory experience for her, it allows herself to get her feelings out more successfully than she ever could with words, and she’s a very visual thinker (like many autistic people) so it just comes naturally. she can also express herself in more unconventional ways and call it “art” and that’s acceptable, even encouraged.
  • lol rachel is so like model artist like pretty much every great artist was either gay or non-neurotypical and rachel is both
  • she has a type of synesthesia where colors are linked to textures and emotions
  • she paints her dreams a lot, or she just paints her feelings. a lot of her first paintings like when she was a kid are just abstract paintings of colors
  • but once she starts really developing a passionate love for art her parents start to get Upset because like yeah at first she seemed a lot calmer and better behaved but like…it’s just therapy she’s not supposed to become an artist
  • which is why they start pushing clarion so hard bc they’re starting to be like “okay okay the therapy was fun but like srsly when r u gonna like…be normal”
  • as she gets older she stops feeling sad and empty and starts getting angry at how she’s been treated. so she stops trying to be “normal” and instead goes as far the other way as she possibly can.
  • she’s not a big fan of personal grooming and just does whatever’s manageable (hence the “i’m brushing my curly ass hair while it’s dry, i don’t care if it has gold paint in it i’m not washing it”)
  • she’s not so great at adhering to the status quo and just accepting “that’s just the way it is” sounds like a ludicrous explanation to her, so this is what pushes her to look critically at the world and become so radical at such a young age
  • i mentioned this before but she doesn’t really have a gender or strong connection to her gender. this is very common because 1. lots of autistic people think of themselves as their brains/thoughts and may feel a type of dissociation towards their bodies, not feeling fully connected or in control of them 2. gender is really just another kind of social norm, and many autistic people struggle to understand the purpose of social norms in general or just don’t particularly care about them 3. so as a result a lot of autistic people have a systematic sort of understanding of gender as a set of behaviors/actions/presentation and may be unable or strongly dislike performing these certain behaviors/actions/presentations, and thus they just conclude they don’t have a gender.
  • she doesn’t wear bras or shave (and god forbid makeup). it’s sensory hell and also contradicts her feminist principles. many birds with one stone.
  • she loves cats, adores cats, cats are her favorite companion forever.
  • all animals are her friends and she does not eat them (aside from loving animals she also just really can’t stand the texture of meat, so again, two birds one stone).
  • she has a rainbow keychain that she loves dangling the keys on and threading it through her fingers
  • rachel and her autistic gf reyna? incredible, amazing, best idea i’ve ever had
  • gah i really love that because their symptoms are so different but there’s also that underlying thread of Sameness that u feel when ur with another autistic person…luv that companionship
  • (i just have to mention this somewhere but rachel is a luna lovegood/lilo/mabel pines kind of autistic and reyna is a elphaba thropp/dipper pines kind of autistic. that will be all)
  • also rachel who says exactly what she means because she figures it’s the most direct and easy way to communicate, which sometimes makes her seem quite blunt but also has it’s merits (this is canon percy says “she let you know how she felt” and doesn’t try and play games in the beginning of tlo). she’s sick of miscommunication and people passing judgement on her for some unwritten social rule that she doesn’t understand so she just lays it all out there and figures people can take it or leave it.
  • um also rachel who introduces herself by her full name??? because That’s her name. all of it. if you say it in pieces it’s not her name anymore. word order is important you can’t just take the elizabeth out that’s what’s on her birth certificate that’s Her Name

cattymai  asked:

OMG!! Its oopeenn!! Thank you! I wanted to ask this last time. Uhmm.. RFA + V's reaction to finding out that MC was rich (like Jumin Han rich) after they started dating? Like she's a legit ojou-sama. ヽ(*≧ω≦)ノ Thank you!!

Author’s note:I wish I could play the piano ;;

Yoosung

  • It was a slowww day at the RFA building, so you and Yoosung decided to empty your wallets and compare the stuff in them
  • He nearly FELL out of his chair when you pulled out a wad of cash
  • “W-what? Is that all yours??”
  • Being the poor college student he is before his days as an amazing vet he had never seen that much money in one place

Zen

  • He would be SO surprised
  • Aren’t all rich people snobs???? But you’re so kind???
  • He really couldn’t believe that someone of your status could be so relatable to him
  • He still REFUSES to let you pay for a meal

Jaehee

  • It doesn’t really matter to her to be honest
  • but does this mean she can quit her job and watch Zen movies all day??

Jumin

  • “Interesting.”
  • That’s all he would say, but he would be SO happy that you were rich like him
  • Someone finally understands and won’t make fun of him !!!!
  • And now when he talks about the gifts from his father he won’t feel like he’s showing off !!!

707

  • He was gonna hack into your bank account as a joke but then hoLY SHIT
  • “MC, COME HERE!!!!!”
  • You ran through the door with panic in your eyes
  • “What is it Seven? Is something wrong?”
  • “Why didn’t you tell me you were loaded???? Do you realize how much honey Buddha chips we could’ve gotten with this money?”
  • “You already have boxes-”
  • “I NEED MORE!”
Knight in a Tux

“You know, I kinda dig the new ‘you’.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, focusing his attention to the tall mirror in front of him. It was his brother’s idea to wear a tie to the banquet. Every other day he would’ve only been caught wearing a tee-shirt and jeans. But no, tonight was oh so special for his brother so Cas had to put on dress pants, a white button down, and a blue tie.

“Actually-“ his best friend stood up from Cas’ bed and strode over to him, “-you need to under a couple buttons and let the tie hang loose a little.”

Cas followed Dean’s instructions and did appreciate the tips. But he still couldn’t manage a smile as he looked at his reflection. His appearance wasn’t the only thing bothering him about tonight. “My mother is going to be there.”

Frowning, Dean shrugged and clapped his best friend on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine.”

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Nostalgia

Riverdale AU: Betty Cooper got all she wanted; she married Archie, has two beautiful redheads, does regular lunch dates with Veronica and works with her doting husband at Andrews’ Construction. Yet, the memory of her loner turned Southside Serpent boyfriend from high school lingered in her deepest, darkest memories… until he returns.

Pairing: Bughead, hints of Archie/Betty

Rated: M

Word Count: 2236

This is my first fanfic (posted on tumblr) so feedback is welcome! Also, if you would like to make any request, prefeably bughead related, I would be happy to oblige :)

—————————

Betty Andrews dropped off little AJ and Andrea at Riverdale Elementary School before driving her silver mom van down to the construction site. Archie had landed a big deal with Lodge Industries, it didn’t hurt Betty’s best friend was the CEO, on the land that the poisonous Thorn Hill once stood on. The land had been untouched since the fire almost twenty years ago. Lodge Industries and Andrews’ Construction was going turn the property into luxury condominiums and exercise the old demons planted in the soil. Not like Riverdale needed more rich snobs, Betty had thought.

But before any of that could happen, Betty needed to drive up the paved road that led to her work trailer and the bare bones of her husband’s project. The trailer was empty when she entered and Archie’s father’s old construction hat was no longer on the wall. Her red headed husband must have wanted to get the crew started early. It was late September in Riverdale, and the crew would need to work triple time to get the project where it needed to be before the ground froze.

The blonde unpacked her posh briefcase, a present from Veronica, before sitting down and beginning to go through payroll. She remembers around this time twenty years ago when Jason Blossom’s body was found on the chilled shores of Sweet Water River. It had sent her and her friends on an adventure that brought people together and tore them apart. Betty and her first real boyfriend, Jughead Jones III, were among the people torn apart. It was a perfect cocktail of darkness that had turn Jughead into his father, a Southside Serpent. She had not seen him nineteen years, two months, and twenty-one days. No one had seen him since then. He permanently rooted himself on the Southside and dared not cross. It was like he was a dog with a shock collar.

That’s why Betty Andrews almost pissed her designer skirt when Jughead Jones III swung open the trailer door. He had on heavy combat boots, his weathered old beanie and chains on his tattered Southside Serpent jacket that tinkled when he walked to her desk. She wondered idly if that was the same jacket he got that night the Serpents came to his house and interrupted them having sex. They didn’t completely cock block the two lovers— she believed him when he said he was a Serpent for protection and let him take her virginity. When he started making shady deals in back alleys and kept his lips tight about everything, she knew he really became a snake. He became his father.

He certainly filled out the jacket much better than he did when he was sixteen. His face was hardened, his shoulders broad and face scruffy. She knew he would grow up handsome like his father. But his beauty didn’t distract from the fact he dropped an old black duffle bag full of cash on her desk.

“Jughead?” Was all she could manage. This moment had played this moment so many times in her head, seeing him again. Betty would hug him and punch him and thank God he was safe. Instead she sat like a scarecrow. Her lips were numb and her arms were tingling. It’s like all of life’s answers were in front of her, she just had to ask the right questions, but couldn’t speak. As a matter of fact, Betty had several questions, like what the hell was he doing at Thorn Hill, why was he dropping money in front of her, and… was he seeing someone?

He nodded with that old lopsided grin that used to make Betty swoon. His face showed that he had expected her to act this way. Speechless and in awe. The way she used to act in the privacy of her pale pink bedroom, with his black hair and signature beanie between her white thighs.

“Every great villain makes a reappearance,” he smiled, his voice surprising Betty with how low and careful his words sounded. “The snake slithers back to Riverdale.”

He still spoke like a writer.

“You were never the villain, Jughead,” Betty shook her head, already done with the conversation. Her mind was already spinning with reasons for Jughead’s return and his money. Trying to buy out Archie? Bribe for shutting down the project on Thorn Hill?

“You made me feel like one,” Jughead’s straight face didn’t falter, but his voice sounded small like when they had their fights back in high school towards the end of it all.

Betty didn’t have a response for what he said. Because back then, she had believed he was a villain. He was running drugs she later found out. But with time comes understanding. The Serpents were his family. The only semi-functional family he had and he would do anything to help them. Just like she would do anything to protect AJ and Andrea. But this was no longer about her, or about her and Jughead.

“Is Archie available? I want to talk to him about a deal,” Jughead said.

“No, he’s not available. He’s on site. I’m part of the company, you can speak with me about the deal,” Betty smiled with a hint of the old warmth Jughead felt back in high school. When she touched him, that was he could say to describe how he felt. Warm. And Jughead was hardly speechless.

“Alright then. I gathered enough money to buy the old drive in. I already had a discussion with Veronica and she is accepting my offer. Now, I’ve come to Archie to hire him for the construction.”

Betty scoffed and stood on her nude heels. None of this seemed plausible. Veronica, her bestie, would have told her if her first love was back on this side of town and had enough money to buy such a valuable piece of land.

“Veronica would have told me,” Betty accused.

“I swore her to secrecy.”

“What do you plan to put there?”

“Rebuild the Twilight.”

Jughead was still the hopeless romantic, the nostalgic loser who just want to find a home. Betty sympathized with him. There were moments when she sits in the fancy restaurant where Pop’s once stood and craved the smell of grease wafting from the kitchen and the taste of classic vanilla slurping down her throat. She often revels in those memories of high school… the memories of Jughead. He understood on a level Archie was never able to. He had unwavering belief in her and accepted her emerging darkness. Betty reminded herself that it was unfair that she didn’t accept his.

“It took you twenty years to get the money?”

“I’m not The fucking Penguin from Batman, Betty. You think I’m some kingpin. I’m still Jug,” he shrugged. “I’ve always been him. The one you grew up with. The one you once loved.”

Betty finally came out from behind her desk. It was her layer of protection that she used to hopefully keep her from what she wanted to do since his rugged frame entered the trailer. But the doe eyed pleading of twenty years ago, the same eyes that begged her not to leave him, now begged her for something else. He wanted to rebuild the Twilight to make things go back to the way they were before.

And in that moment, with the chill outside of impending winter, with her husband outside those doors, with a Southside degenerate in front of her, she too wanted things to go back to the way they were before.

Jughead read it in her eyes. He read her like a book he wrote himself. He knew every word, but he was impressed how they took on a shape of their own.

“I’m sorry, Juggy,” Betty said, stepping ever so closer to him. He smelled like pine.

“You know when you use to call me Juggy it made me weak,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

Betty was even lower, “I know.”

Jughead’s callused hands gripped Betty’s face and pulled her pouty lips to his. As soon as they made contact, it was like they were in FP’s trailer again, that rainy night, full of love, lust, and teenage hormones. Betty stopped the kiss only for a moment to swipe credit card statements and timecards and Jughead’s money, all for her husband’s business; onto the floor so she could back up onto the cheap desk and pull the dark-haired man’s hips closer to her’s by hooking her hips around him.

The old lovers wasted no time in shedding Jughead’s jacket, ripping off his ripe beanie and shedding Betty’s beige blazer as their lips kissed each other swollen. With the blazer gone, Jughead had open access to Betty’s neck, which he fully took advantage of. His suctioned kisses left saliva along her neck and down her chest. She knew she would be purple and have some explaining to do, but at this moment, it was her and Jughead, trapped in the time machine of the trailer; back in high school with high stamina and insatiable desire for one another’s bodies.

Betty did the honors in raising Jughead’s arms and taking off his plain white tee. She paused to take in his chest. This was not the body of a boy—but the body of a man who has seen the darkness. Despite almost being forty, his chest was tight and black hairs splintered down his stomach and into his black jeans. She raked her fingers over his chest and he smiled like a Colgate commercial because he knew that she was impressed. Archie may have been hot in high school, but that was high school. Archie may have married the only woman Jughead had ever loved, but right now, the sight of his body alone was leaving his former best friend’s wife breathless.

He picked up where they left off and unbuttoned her slick polka dotted blouse to reveal a white lace bra. Her nipples were hard and begging for Jughead to release them. He noted how quickly he took her bra off compared to when they were teens, but her eyes went blurry when he took a pink nipple in between is lips and tugged on the other with his fingers. He looked up at her as he sucked on her breast, and that look of innocence he had in his eyes as he had a mouthful of her tit made Mrs. Andrews groan and slide off her skirt without warning. Her underwear went too; there wasn’t any more time for foreplay. It seemed like her life depended on Jug’s cock being inside her. Jughead wanted to savor this moment, he doubted there would ever be another in the history of Riverdale, but Betty’s dragged Jughead’s pants and boxers down without asking permission. She found herself on her knees in front of his member. It was longer than she remembered, thicker too, but she was ready for it. She gave a few appreciative licks to his bulbous head, making Jughead’s moans rumble throughout his body and down to his groin. Betty smiled at the effect she still had on him.

Betty resumed her position on her desk and laid there in only a pair of heels, lips swollen and parted, begging for Jughead. The little hairs around her scalp fell loose from her ponytail and curled, framing her face like a pair of hands. Jughead put his hands there instead and held her face as he entered her. It had been twenty years since he had found himself here, nestled inside the white-hot heat of Betty’s vagina, but it felt like he never left. They just stayed like that for a few minutes.

This is where she was supposed to be. This is where she imagined herself twenty years ago on a September day much like this. Jughead’s place is in between Betty’s legs, looking at her adoringly like he is now. He still loved her, and although she didn’t want to, she never loved Archie like she does Jughead. They couple could no longer take the heat of one another Jughead started to send lazy thrusts into Betty. It wasn’t lazy in the way of not caring, but lazy in how it was slow, how his entire length pulled out and dove back in at an excruciating pace so she felt every pulse and vein throughout his loving cock. Betty was seeing stars, those yellow cartoon ones, when he fucked her so expertly. She sat up so their bodies could be as close as possible. She pulled him closer and squeezed like she was trying to squish them together until they became one. Jughead gradually sped up until he was a piston firing into her twenty years of built of love, hate and loneliness. His right hand found her clit and rubbed forceful circle around the bundle of nerves as their mouths engaged in wet kiss and licks.

Betty let loose first, crying out Jughead’s name certainly and lovingly. Knowing that she needed this just as much as he did made his cock pour all of its love into her. Their bodies were sweaty and heaving, but the two didn’t move. Jughead pulled out from her but Betty wouldn’t let him go. She kissed the shell of his ear before she whispered, “I’m not making the same mistake twice, Jughead. I’m not letting you go again.”

What Do You Want?

Requested by an Anon:Can you please write an imagine about the reader being Hale’s sister and Donna’s friend. Can she also fancy Jax and him fancy her please? Possible relationship to come from it? Thanks x

“My brothers are making my crazy! Jacob wants to marry me off to some rich snob at the country club, and David wants to send  me as far away from Charming as he can get me!” I sipped on the beer that Donna handed me.

“And what do you want?” She asked me. 

I flopped down on the couch in unladylike manner on the couch. “I want to be loved, and I want to fall in love. I just want to be happy, and to make my own decisions for once in my life. I think they forget I’m a damn adult!”

She grinned at me. “Have anyone in mind? I mean to be loved by and to love, you know to be happy with.” She winked at me.

I rolled my eyes and let out a muffled groan. “Jax would never be interested in me, I’m a Hale.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“He hates my entire family, I’m guilty my association!”

“But you have feelings for him?”

“Yes! I like him, I would really like to pursue my feelings, but there’s really no point, I have no chance with him.” 

“Go after what you want. If you want Jax Teller, go after him.”

XXX

Jax reached into the fridge grabbing a couple of beers, he heard Donna and (Y/N) Hale talking from the other room. The mention of his name, stopped him from from going back to the garage.

He smiled at hearing her partial confession, it was replaced with  the shock that she thought he wouldn’t be interested in her because of her family. He stood frozen in place, continuing to eavesdrop.

She was nothing like her family, not even close. She was kind and treated everyone with respect; no matter who they were. This infuriated her family, they were always on her about the company she kept.

So much so, her father sent her away to boarding school in the middle of their sophomore year. He wanted to get her away from the undesirable people she was friends with. Meaning Donna, Opie, and himself. 

She still found away to keep in contact with Donna, and she passed messages to him and Opie. They lost contact while she went to college, when she came back to town three years ago; he was happy to see her.

 Standing there hearing her talking about it was pointless to even try, he put the beers down on the counter and walked into the living room. 



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Day 2: Nerd Girlfriends

Maggie and Alex did not exactly have schedules conducive to traditional dating. The schedule conflicts Maggie alone brought to the table had cost her more than one girlfriend in the past. Alex’s field time and lab hours added in created something that looked more like Netflix and Chill than anything serious.

They did what they could though. Sometimes that meant cooking lessons for Alex that ended in rescue by Jessy the Pizza Guy more often than not. Sometimes it was kids’ science experiments because if the neighbors were already used to hearing the fire alarm, why not? There were movie nights and sometimes, sometimes it was fantastic to just come home, turn down the lights, and sink into the arms of someone who cared.

Once a month they did something different though, moving heaven and earth to make sure they both had two days set aside for each other. They took turns surprising each other.

Last month, Maggie had somehow lined up a tour of the new Star Labs Biomedical Research Center, complete with NDAs and one-on-ones with the lead scientists. Maggie had followed along happily, occasionally asking for clarification since she liked science but “I’m just a dumb cop with an easy bake oven, Danvers.” She swore up and down she had fun watching Alex “get her nerd on” with other nerds.

Alex was determined to return the favor.

The botanical garden was out, because she’d played that card two months in. For that matter, she had no intention of reliving the nightmare that was couples’ cooking lessons either.

Alex had to dig deep for this one.

Deep enough to get her ass over to L Corp and bribe Jess to let her in because she needed to talk to Lena about something Kara related.

Lena seemed just as startled to see Agent Danvers as Alex was that a vague mention of her sister’s well-being was all it took to get in to see a busy CEO.

“Agent Danvers, is Kara alright?”

“She’s fine. I need a favor though.”

“A favor?” Lena’s eyebrow raised dramatically, “Are we favor friends now?”

“We could be,” Alex hedged. “Look there’s this new exhibit at the People’s History Museum, and it’s sold out for months. I was hoping you, as a major donor, had some tickets for this weekend lying around.”

“Even if I was a donor, Agent, no self-respecting pro-alien display is going to let the last of the Luthors attend such a crowded public event.”

“Please, you are not the problem. At least you come with added security.”

“Be that as it may, I’m sorry but I can’t help. I’m not even sure Supergirl could get tickets.”

Alex sighed. “Damn. Well, thanks for hearing me out, Ms. Luthor.”

“Lena.”

“Hmm?”

“If we’re going to be favor friends, you should call me Lena.”

“Then you should call me Alex. And let me know the next time you want to help save the world so I’m not panicking you’re turning on my sister.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Lena smiled.

****

Alex was still racking her brain for ideas two days later when Kara showed up near the end of her shift at the DEO, dressed as Supergirl and grinning like *NSYNC had just announced a reunion tour.

“So. Lena asked me to tell you she still can’t get tickets.”

“She sent you over here to tell me that?”

But, she can get you in a couple hours before the doors open, if you and Maggie want a day-date.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“She asked around. Apparently she went to school with one of the curators.” Kara’s smile dimmed into a pout. “She had to swear it was for law enforcement and that she wasn’t up to anything. Supergirl even had to come vouch for her.”

“It’s still really weird when you refer to yourself in the third person, Kara,” Alex said. “Why did she go through all that trouble? I was surprised she’d even let me in to ask.”

“Because you’re my sister, I guess.”

Alex decided to table that discussion for a later date. Much later. Preferably involving alcohol and gay-yoda-Maggie.

“Anyway, you guys can meet with Dr. Camdem around noon and roam the exhibit until 4 or so, when they’d have to kick you out to prep for the big event Saturday night.”

“I owe you both. Like, so big.”

****

Friday night, Maggie lost a game of pool.

Saturday, she had to ride koala on the way to their date.

She complained the entire way, but Alex loved the feel of Maggie, with her arms wrapped around her, leaning into turns. She loved Maggie’s hands tucked under her jacket, the muttered curses when Alex would accelerate faster than necessary.

Alex may have taken the longest, most winding route possible to the museum.

It was worth it to see the blinding grin on Maggie’s face as she removed her helmet. “You hate history, Danvers.”

“I don’t hate it, Sawyer, I just don’t need to study it when I can watch it repeat on the news.”

“Knowing it is half the battle to keep it from repeating.”

Alex shook her head and slung her arm over Maggie’s shoulders. “C’mon, I have a surprise waiting that I think we’ll both enjoy.”

“It’s a little early to break-in for after-hours sex, Danvers, and after seeing Winn I think that’s probably ruined for me forever.”

“We’re not- okay, first of all you can’t really break into a place that’s currently open for business,” Alex stuttered. “Wait, you’ve thought about-”

“C’mon, Danvers, you promised me a surprise, where’s my surprise?”

Alex rolled her eyes at her girlfriend and dropped a $20 into the donation box on their way in. She didn’t need to bother with the ticket office unless Maggie decided she wanted to come back to the exhibit in a few months when tickets were actually available. Alex tried very hard not to laugh as she had to drag Maggie past all of the displays that she knew for a fact Maggie had seen a thousand times before.

“Did you know National City was built on a native city, Danvers?”

Alex had to constantly redirect Maggie’s attention the entire way through to the back of the museum.

“Hey did you know the greatest gunslinger in National City history was actually an alien?”

Or her opinions on the LGBTQ exhibit, which Alex actually did want to check out. Later, after the surprise.

“Alex, wait, hold up this one’s important! I mean, it’s a little whitewashed, but so is everything else here and-”

“Maggie, I promise you we can check this one out in a little while, okay? But there’s kind of a time limit on your surprise.”

Maggie made a face, but let Alex lead her through to where a security guard stood at the entrance to the Aliens Among Us corridor. A quick flash of her badge, and he held aside the curtain for them.

Maggie’s eyes widened as they stepped through and she squeezed Alex’s arm excitedly.

They were greeted by the curator herself. “Agent Danvers, Detective Sawyer, thank you for coming. I’d love to discuss any of the differences or gaps in knowledge with you two later, if you have time?”

“That would be great, Dr. Camden. Thank you so much for letting us in here.”

“Anything for the girls in blue, and for fostering a better understanding of our refugee populations,” Dr. Camden smiled. “Now, I’ll leave you two to explore, if you don’t mind? There’s a lot to do tonight. Just let Ms. Luthor know when you’re free to discuss things later and we can set something up.”

“Perfect, thanks again, Dr. Camden.”

Maggie waited until Camden was out of sight to let out a quiet screech, “You got us into Aliens Among Us??”

“I mean I tried for tonight, but not even Supergirl can get tickets, apparently. Is this okay?”

“Is this okay? Is this okay? Of course you’d ask that. It’s amazing, Danvers.”

Alex sighed, “Oh thank god.”

“Did you think there was a chance I wouldn’t like it?”

“I mean, I wanted to do the fancy thing, I know you’ve seen most of this stuff before.”

“Danvers, trust me, we get to explore together, without wearing heels or dealing with rich snobs, this is perfect.”

Maggie didn’t know everything, but she knew enough to skip around the Kryptonian display, complete with wax figures of Astra and Non beside Supergirl. She didn’t ask when Alex’s gaze lingered on one over the others, but she did crack a joke.

“She was hot.”

“She had a thing for touching my face,” Alex muttered.

“Can’t blame her, you have a pretty nice face,” Maggie said, “C’mon, there’s a thing about Roltikkons.”

“Why does the tongue thing work in reverse?”

Maggie bumped her hip. “Hey, I don’t remember you complaining about the things my tongue could teach you.”

“Maggie!”

“After that we can check out the Infernian display and reminisce about how you stole my crime scene.”

“It was my crime scene, Sawyer.”

Alex was familiar with at least a vague idea of the history of the many species on display. It was Maggie’s excitement that brought them to life, hands waving as she ranted about inaccuracies or told wild stories about some of the aliens she’d met while working in National City. The movements got wilder as she got more excited.

It only got worse when they finished with the new exhibit and Alex allowed herself to be dragged off to the LGBTQ exhibit.

“So, there was this whole underground scene for non-white queers because we took a beating during raids in the 80s and-”

It was the most adorable thing Alex had ever scene, including the first time Kara ever saw a litter of puppies dressed up in costumes.

I Won't Let Go (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A/N: Hey guys! I hope, anon, that this is good enough for you 😂 turns out writing imagines around a song is more difficult than I thought but hopefully you like it!
Warnings: drinking, throwing up, Spencer being a fluff 😝
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Prompt: imagine based on the song ‘Say You Won’t Let Go’ by James Arthur
Request: ✅
Upcoming Imagine: Smutty sub!spencer Imagine…
-
Spencer was dragged to the bar along by his team, honestly just wanting to go home and curl up with a book but he was already there so why not try to enjoy it.
He didn’t drink, he doesn’t really enjoy it.
Derek even bought him one, but he refused it, making Derek give it to Emily, who downed it in seconds.
He tapped his fingers on the table, bored out of his mind.
He decided to start observing people.
Just by the walk of a man, he could tell he was a rich snob looking for trouble.
Spencer’s eyes wandered across many of causal faces, until one caught his eye.
You sat at the bar, twirling the straw of your drink in your hand with your head propped up by your elbow.
Derek caught him staring and nudged his shoulder a little harder than expected, making Spencer knock over a glass as shards scattered across the floor.
His cheeks flushed red as the noise brought attention to him.
He hesitantly looked back at you, who was now facing him.
He quickly tried gathering the pieces until he saw another pair of hands join him.
He didn’t dare look up to see who it was.
He recognized the same shiny bracelet as the one the stunning girl was wearing at the bar, and it was now inches away from his hand.
He started to feel as if he was being rude, ignoring the kind person helping him pick up the broken glass so he muttered a quiet thanks.
“No problem. Let me buy you another. I’m Y/N.” you said holding your hand out that didn’t have the glass in it.
He finally looked up and met your gaze.
He knew you were pretty, but up close, your were gorgeous.
“S-Spencer. I would like that.” He said taking your hand.
The table consisting of his friends lit up with cheers and whistles as you took his hand.
“What were you having?” You asked as you sat down.
“To be honest I don’t know. My friend bought it for me. I didn’t want it anyways.” He said.
“The… why did you agree I buy you another?” You asked slightly confused.
“Oh I-you don’t have to. I agreed because I… I wanted to talk to you.” He said sheepishly.
You smiled and ordered two gin and tonics.
Throughout the night you and Spencer got to know each other, downing drinks until you lost count.
You even drug him to the dance floor one time but after he insisted that he doesn’t dance you took him back to the bar.
He was taking a lot longer to drink his than you were, but he knew what you were doing so he kept sober.
You started to lean on his shoulder and fluttering your eyes as you grew tired.
Spencer asked for your keys and he took you out to your car, buckling you in before softly closing the door.
He thought where he was going to take you. According to earlier, you were in the bar because of a breakup and you had nowhere else to go, so he decided you should crash at his place.
“Hey I’m going to take you to my place okay? I’ll take you home tomorrow does that sound okay?” He asked.
You nodded and flailed an arm to his shoulder as you squeezed lightly.
“Thank you.” You slurred keeping your gaze on his handsome face for awhile as he drove.
You both arrived at his apartment and when you entered you rushed to the bathroom.
Luckily the door was open so you could tell where it was, or else that could have gone downhill.
You started throwing up immensely into the toilet and Spencer rushed to your side to hold your hair back.
He gently rubbed your back as you puked your guts out until you stopped with a throbbing headache.
“I’m so sorry.” You said humiliated as he still caressed your back.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you okay?” He said gently.
You turned around and smiled at him, sending butterflies to take flight in his stomach.
“Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll take the couch.” He said helping you up and leading you to his bedroom.
You were in too much pain to speak so you just nodded.
He laid you down and pulled the blankets up to your chest.
“Thank you.” You choked out as he stroked your forehead.
He made his way out to the couch and laid down thinking about you.
He knew he felt something for you.
Was it love?
He imagined a future with you.
No, he just met you.
But he imagines making you breakfast in bed, kids running around before he would take them to school because you haven’t gotten up yet.
He thought of kissing you and holding you and telling you he wouldn’t let go.

Originally posted by orbitluke