she makes me uncomfortable at least

Broken Heart

Originally posted by jeffatkinsimagines

The music was blaring loudly from the large speakers in the gym, lights flickering back and forth between different colors of the spectrum, the smell of punch lingered in the air mixed with alcohol that some students had managed to sneak in.

(Y/N) sat on the bleachers with her head down, looking at her short and shiny black heels that were beginning to make her feet ache. Reaching down, she took them off and wiggled her toes for a moment before sighed and leaning back against the bleacher behind her.

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Ten Years (Part 8)

Summary: AU. When a major account is on the line at work, reader is forced to revisit some old connections at her ten year high school reunion for a chance at success. Will she let the past consume her, or will she see the future in her grasp?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3,475 (minus the flashback) (yes I need to stop)

Warnings: language, sarcasm, fluff, mentions of past cheating, drinking, potentially anxious situations, confrontation, crying (every chapter has the same warnings because I’m melodramatic)

A/N: Tags are closed. I rewrote this whole damn thing again, and I’m an angsty bag of trash today, so it’s completely reflected here. I kept asking myself out loud, “Why are you like this?”

Part: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 -

Originally posted by sebjpeg

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Tell me about the one who loved him (part two) - A Sirius Black Imagine

Originally posted by one-cold-day


Part two of Tell me about the one who loved him


Many days had passed and Harry was sitting into Sirius’ room, along with Ron and Hermione. He hated being into the Blacks house, especially because he felt so guilty about facing Sirius everyday and not telling him the secret he knew about him. It put so much pressure on him that he did everything to avoid his godfather during the Christmas holidays, which made him sad and anxious. He needed his presence more than anything but he couldn’t handle looking at him in the eyes with what he now knew. The first day when he came to Grimmauld place, he thought about telling at once Sirius. But the man didn’t seem to be in a good mood; in fact, he looked more depressed than he looked back when he got out of Azkaban. One night, as Harry came downstairs to get a glass of water after a nightmare, he surprised a conversation between Lupin and Sirius, as they were drinking into the drawing room together.

‘I tried to look for her, but it’s like she vanished into thin air’ he heard his godfather whisper.

There was a pause.

‘Come on Sirius, don’t get yourself into trouble just for her.’

Just for her? Do you know how much time I spent thinking she believes I am guilty?’

‘Why does it matter? You said it yourself, it’s been ages.’

Harry heard Sirius swallowing heavily his liquor.

‘What about me?’ he asked.

‘You are safe here. Don’t you think about going out of here ever again before it’s okay for you to do so’ replied Remus with a cold voice.

‘It’s like you don’t want me to see her. Is it? Are you hiding something from me? Is she okay?’ said Sirius, sounding nervous and angry.

‘Are you thinking straight, Pads?’

There was another pause.

‘The girl has moved on, don’t go trouble Y/N with your excuses and explications!’

‘What’s the matter with you, since when did you lose any empathy for your old friend? I just want to see her again, just one time, for Merlin’s beard-‘

‘She’s married Sirius! There, I said it. She has a life of her own now, she moved on, don’t go trouble her with the past! What are you thinking, that she was going to wait for you? It’s been almost fourteen years.’

Harry felt the tension in the room. For a few minutes, he wondered what was happening as he heard nobody talk anymore. As time passed and nobody move or spoke, Harry walked silently back into his room. He felt so sorry for Sirius he couldn’t breathe anymore, his chest hurt. How he wished Sirius knew that he had a daughter with Y/N, that he had a future of his own, that he hadn’t lost everything. He heard somebody opening the door. Hermione was standing in the doorway, looking at him curiously.

‘I thought I heard noise in here’ she whispered.

‘Couldn’t sleep’ replied Harry, trying to chase away his thoughts.

She looked at Ron who seemed to be lost into a deep sleep.

‘That makes at least two of us’ she smiled. ‘Mind if I come in?’

Harry shook his head and Hermione sat beside him on the bed.

‘Are you having visions again?’ she enquired.

‘No, that’s not it’ said Harry, feeling uncomfortable with what he just heard.

Hermione put her hand on Harry’s and looked at him with sincere eyes.

‘You know, you can tell me anything.’

Harry smiled back to her and they sat in silence, staring at the flames crackling in the fireplace.

‘Hermione?’ said Harry, breaking the silence.

She looked up at her friend.

‘What would you do if you knew a secret, a big one, that would change one’s perception on life and future?’

She frowned her eyebrows.

‘Who would it concerns?’ she asked.

Harry sighed.

‘I know something – something very important – but I’m not confident about telling the person it concerns, because I’m not sure how that person would react.’

‘Harry, you’re worrying me… Why don’t you just tell me what it’s about and I’ll try to help?’

Maybe he could tell Hermione. He looked at Ron, fast asleep.

‘Are you familiar with the other students? Other houses, other years?’

Hermione raised her shoulders.

‘I don’t know everybody, but I have a good memory.’

‘There’s this girl, maybe you know her. Second grade’ he continued.

‘Mmm…’

‘Well, I came to know recently, something about her. Something huge.’

‘I didn’t know you were interested in gossip, Harry’ mumbled Hermione, not sure where her friend was going with this.

Harry sighed heavily.

‘You know Y/D/N Y/L/N?’

Hermione raised her shoulders again.

‘Long black hair, silver eyes. She’s pretty too. She’s in Slytherin.’

‘The name does ring a bell. But I’d have to see what she looks like, to be honest… Where’re you going with that Harry?’

Harry felt his hands becoming sweaty and his blood pumping loudly in his veins.

‘You wouldn’t have to get out of this house to see what she looks like…’ he whispered.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and waited for the denouement. Harry felt nervous, he wished she’d have put the puzzle pieces together by now.

Don’t make me say it, don’t make me say it’ he thought.

‘Wait a minute…’ he heard Hermione say.

She got up and started pacing in the room.

‘I think I know who you’re talking about. She has those shiny long black hair does she? I remember her cause the first time I noticed her, she was in the library and something about her felt very familiar when I glanced at her!’

Harry waited patiently for Hermione to figure it out.

‘The eyes, yes, the eyes. These silver eyes, well, her whole face expression, the smirk…’

There was a long pause. Her eyes widened and she put her hand in front of her now opened mouth, her expression shocked.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked, nervously.

‘Without a doubt.’

‘Does he know?’

Harry shook his head and felt his eyes burn. 

‘I surprised a conversation and I asked questions to Lupin afterwards and pretty figured the rest myself.’

‘Then maybe you’re wrong’ suggested Hermione, not sure she really wanted to believe what she was just told.

‘No. Lupin confirmed it. He asked me to tell no one, but how could I keep this to myself?’

‘You need to tell him, Harry!’ said Hermione, hurrying to her friend, taking him by the shoulders.

‘How can I be the one telling him? How can I tell Sirius that he has a daughter he doesn’t know about?’

Harry heard the floor crack outside the room. Both he and Hermione jumped with fear. He stood up and looked into the door crack that Hermione didn’t close entirely. There, two pairs of bright silver eyes were shining into the dark, reflecting the dancing flames of the fireplace behind Harry’s weak body, surrounded by black fur all around. The big dog seemed to look blankly at Harry. Surely, Sirius had heard them say they weren’t able to sleep and decided to make them laugh by transforming into Padfoot, like he did some nights before. He started to walk slowly in reverse.

‘Sirius, I-‘ Harry tried to mumble.

But the dog had disappeared.

‘SIRIUS!’ he shouted again, waking up Ron and the entire household.

They heard a door being shut down loudly downstairs. 

Zach x Reader: “Say You Won’t Let Go” (Part II)

I knew I loved you then

But you’d never know

‘Cause I played it cool when I was scared of letting go

You turned your back as the rowdy basketball varsity passed the hallway, with Zach at the middle, eyes following you silently. It has been a week since that night and Zach was actually amazed that you genuinely didn’t tell a soul about what happened, especially when he was so used to girls using his name to be the talk of the hour.

You kept it a secret, and Zach doesn’t know if he should be thankful or disappointed. Somehow, he wanted everyone to know but was really happy because he also wanted that moment to be untainted; he wanted it to remain just your moment.

A moment he can go back to when the weight of the world becomes too much.

Zach was surrounded by his teammates, noisy and boisterous, his perfect atmosphere to drown out his guilt but as he stared at you outside, sitting in your usual table with earphones plugged in your ears and a distant stare in your eyes, he knew he just found a perfect alternative.

Half of the cafeteria literally stopped on its track when his 6’2 figure suddenly stood up, accidentally pushing the metallic chair away as it screeched in protest. He took his backpack and marched towards the door, unbothered by the pair of eyes watching his every move as he continued his journey towards you.

Hands in his pocket and mind full of hope.

This scene was way too familiar and he hoped the ending would be a little different.

“Hey,” he said the moment he was close enough, as if you didn’t see him (who the hell would miss him); you just didn’t expect him to actually approach you. Zach watched as you studied him, once again, eyes so unsure.

Please let this be different.

“Got some space for me?” You dumbly looked at the blank seats around you before looking back at him.

Are you sure?, you wanted to ask, raising an eyebrow at Zach but you saw the silent pleading in his eyes and smiled.

“It’s a tight squeeze but sure, help yourself, big guy.”

Zach almost laughed.

Yeah, this was going to be a whole different story.

He’ll make very sure of it.

“I’m Zach, Zachary Shan-Yung Dempsey.” He offered his hands to you and the two of you knew it was more than just an introduction. It was a key to a whole new door that will blast open the moment you two decide to say fuck you to the fates and decide to make one for your own.

You’ve always hated cliché’s anyway; pissing the fates off will be one way to be different.

“I’m (Y/N),” you gladly took his hand with a smile. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).



I know I needed you

But I never showed

But I wanna stay with you until we’re grey and old

That day in the canteen started turning into a tradition, it became a rule. No one was allowed to sit in that table but you and Zach. That was your place and the whole school knew it. They were confused how a nobody like you got Zach’s attention but they knew better than to question it. If they didn’t want to deal with Zach’s fist then they should learn to mind their own business.

“Hey stranger,” you greeted Zach as he slumped down at the metal table in front of you. “Well, aren’t you cheerful.”

Zach peeked at you from his arms and chuckled. “If you see coach looking for me, let’s agree my name is Carlos and I don’t speak English.”

“ You don’t pay me enough to lie for you, Z.” You shot back earning a glare.

“Why are you so mean to me?” he whined, placing his head on your lap, as you placed your dainty little hand that Zach grew to love over his eyes knowing how much it helped him relax even if you have to be the subject of ‘is it normal that your hands are this small’ Aw is my lil’ Zachy mad?”

“Hey! I am not little!”

“I am not talking about your height, darling.”

Zach’s mouth dropped open and he actually removed your hand and gave you another glare “Excuse you, young lady, but you can ask every girl who had the honour and they will tell you I’m everything but little.”

“I don’t have the time to ask half the girls of this school, Zac—Stop! Zach, stop!” You squealed when Zach decided to place you on his lap and tickle the life out of you to teach you a lesson.

“Okay, okay, I’m done.” He said as he tried to make you stop moving around, holding your hips down.

“You’re such a little shit.”

“Oh please, you love me.”

“Debatable.”

“You –“

Your moment in your safe haven was stopped by someone clearing your throat. You saw a curly haired beauty in front of you with a kind smile on her face. Jessica. As if almost on cue, you saw Zach straighten up, his stone cold face made it look like he was ready for war. He was nervous and uncomfortable, on cue; your protective nature woke up from your slumber as you prepared for the worst.

“Hey (Y/N),” you were actually shocked when she knew your name. “Can Zach and I talk for a sec?”

“She’s not going anywhere.” Zach’s jaw line locked and you knew he was mad now.

“Trust me, Zach.” Jessica shot back, staring at him with cold dead eyes. “She needs to go.”

They seemed to have a silent disagreement as they stared at each other almost murderously.

“Hey (Y/N),” Zach’s eyes immediately softened when he looked at you. “Can you get us some food? I’m kinda hungry.”

You stared at Zach, a bit hurt but you knew this secret was theirs to keep, and if he wanted to let you know he’d tell you when you’re ready.

You nodded and gave him a comforting smile. “I’ll be back.” You quickly stepped out of his lap and gave Jessica a once over. You didn’t care who the fuck she was, he better not fuck with your Zach anymore than her little group has.

“Nice to meet you Jessica.”

“You can call me Jess, my friends call me Jess.”

“I know, Jessica.” Jessica’s eyes shot at you and she could almost see Hannah in you: the snarky smile and the witty comebacks were too familiar. It made her heart hurt a bit more than it already has.

She made sure you were inside the cafeteria before she looked at Zach who was also staring at you.

“Are you gonna tell her?”

“She doesn’t need to know.” Zach crushed whatever idea she had in her mind. Since that night he decided he will not let anyone destroy the one beautiful thing in his life.

“She’s your girlfriend, I think she would –“

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Zach shot at her but was immediately dissuaded by Jessica’s sceptical stare. “.. yet.”

“Zach, look,” Jessica was careful not to touch him when she walked near. “I can see it, hell the whole fucking town can.” Jessica waited for Zach to look her in the eyes. “You love her. And no matter what the fuck happened between us you are still my best friend Zach and I … I just want you to be happy again and I know she can do that.”

Zach smiled sadly, taking Jessica’s hands in his. “Thank you, Jess.”

“But if you plan to take this any further,” Jessica added, gripping Zach’s hand. “You need to tell her.”

“Are you sure?” Zach asked, knowing she was also part of the problem too.

“It’s your move to make.” Jessica whispered as she eyed you about to go out from the cafeteria with a few snack on your arms. “You deserve a peace of mind.” Jessica patted his hand with her free one. “At least one of us can be happy again.”

With that she gave him one last smile and walked away.

“Hey,” Zach watched as you cautiously sat next to him, his hands automatically pulling you close. “Are you okay?” You looked up at him.

Zach stared at you, making you a bit uncomfortable, making you feel bad for all the times you unconsciously studied him “Jess was just slapping some sense in me.”

You laughed. “Well, that makes the two of us.” Zach poked your waist making you flinch and giggle. “What’d she say?”

And just like that a switch turned on inside of Zach as he suddenly turned serious, his eyes only looking in yours. The world seemed to turn deaf in both your ears.

“About how I should probably ask you to become my girlfriend.”

You were dumbfounded and Zach was scared shitless. Zach almost closed his eyes but preferred to look into yours as different emotions passed in it. He probably ruined everything in that moment but if you didn’t agree to it then he was willing to beg on his knees for you to forget everything he just said.

“(Y/N)?” You were dragged back down to Earth by his nervous features; you decided to take him out of his misery and managed to place the smallest of kiss on his lips that he wasn’t even sure it happened.

“Take me out on a few dates and I’ll think about it.”


EEEEEEEEEY HERE’S PART 2 (there will be at least 2 more parts for this series)

Sherlolly Appreciation Week, Day 6- First “I Love You”

Ok so for this one, let’s kind of pretend that s4 never happened. Yeah, I know, that’s hard to do! But honestly, I feel like any first ILY can’t really be believable if s4 happened and it’s set after that. Thank goodness for the non-canon category for this week’s themes lol! And I believe both @elennemigo and @fangirlhani were in favor of me writing the first ILY theme. Hope you guys (and everyone) enjoy what I came up with! Oh and thanks to @artbylexie for not only beta reading but also helping me come up with the setup of this plot. Fun times lol!;))


On Again, Off Again

Molly Hooper stomped up the stairs to 221B. Really stomped. The anger that coursed through her body was intense enough that it felt good to at the very least slam her feet on the steps as she climbed them.

She’d rarely been this angry.

“Sherlock!”

Molly stormed into his flat with fire in her eyes. There he stood, his safety glasses covered eyes looking a bit confused as he stood at his kitchen table holding a beaker with some unidentified fluid in it.

“Molly?” He looked her up and down in an obvious attempt at deduction as she marched in the room and tossed her bag and coat aside in preparation for battle.

“Sherlock, of all the deceitful, unfeeling, and insulting things to do…” she began, pacing back and forth with clenched fists. “How could you think to treat a friend this way?!”

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Wash the Sea [4x21 coda]

Rated G/T (non-sexy nakedness)
Mentions of AIDA/Fritz, all the grossness in canon
Thanks to @agentcalliope for beta-ing and making me finish writing it


He must have known Jemma was behind him because he didn’t flinch upon her reaching his hand around his front and ghosting her fingers over the buttons of his shirt.

“This is inconvenient,” she tried to joke.

Fitz said nothing.  He couldn’t.  What was there to say?  He stared ahead at the steam from the shower.  He had turned it on, hadn’t he?  She had told him to go take a shower and he had tried.  He could not stop himself from tensing when she pressed her face into his back.

“You’re safe now, Fitz.  She can’t hurt you anymore.”

He bit his lip, but it only muffled the sob that broke through him.  Still, he didn’t move.  She slipped her other hand around to hold him closer.

“I’m safe,” she whispered, kissing his shoulder as he bowed his head.  “Let me help you.”

Slowly, still standing behind him, she began unbuttoning his shirt.

“I know what it feels like,” she said softly.  “Not what you’re going through, not what you’re thinking.  But I know what it feels like to wish all the feeling would just stop.”

He let out a choked sob.  “How do you do it?”

“Oh, Fitz.”  She finished his shirt and pulled it off before moving to his undershirt.  “May I?”  When he nodded, she slowly began untucking his undershirt.  “I try and convince myself that you would hurt just as much in a world without me as I would hurt in a world without you.”  She helped him pull the undershirt over his head and rest her fingers on his belt buckle.  “I’m always here, Fitz, in whatever capacity you need me.”

He moved his hand to cover hers, interlocking their fingers and clumsily guiding her through undoing his belt.  Together, they finished undressing him and he turned in her arms.  He ran his fingers down her sides, catching in the tie of her robe.

“Always prepared,” he said, wrapping his arms loosely around her, as though unsure if he was permitted to touch her or not.

She took a step closer to him, burying her face in his neck and curling her hands in his hair so he would do the same.  “Is this okay?”

Something in him seemed to break and he tighten his hold around her.

“I smell like the ocean,” he said.  He let out a sob and Jemma held him as tightly as she could, supporting his weight completely.

“I know,” she said.  She could feel his tears dripping down her neck.  “But you’re still here.”  She turned her head so she could kiss his jaw.  “And so am I.  And I’m not going anywhere.  Never again.  You’re stuck with me.”  She pressed her forehead to his.  “You’ll feel better if you shower.”

He shook his head and wrapped his fingers around the tie of her robe.  “Jemma…”

“You never have to ask me.”

Slowly, he undid the tie and let her robe fall to the floor along with his clothes.  She led him into the shower, allowing him to stand in the corner, outside of the spray of water.  She took the washcloth, wetted it, and began to rub it slowly over his body as he shut his eyes.  She turned to open his body wash, but he grabbed her wrist.

“The other,” he said.  “Yours.”

She laughed.  “You want to use my soap?”

“It smells like you.”

Without a word, Jemma poured a generous amount of her body wash onto the cloth and returned to cleaning Fitz, slowly and delicately.

“Things won’t be better tomorrow,” she told him.  “Not the next day either.  But one day, they will be.”

“I don’t think I deserve it.”

She sighed and stepped closer to him.  “Then we’ll have to agree to disagree.  For now at least.  I’ll fight you a little more tomorrow.”  

His mouth twitched as he tried to smile.

“Fitz,” she said softly.  “Don’t I deserve to be happy?”

“Of course you do!”

“Well, I’m happiest with you.  So when you’re ready to hold me and to be held by me, I will be held by you and I will hold you.  And when you’re ready to kiss me, I will be there to kiss you.  When you’re ready to flirt in public just to make Daisy uncomfortable, I will flirt right back at you.  And–” she took a deep breath and ran the washcloth over his left hand– “when you’re ready to marry me, I’ll marry you.”

Fitz looked at her with wide eyes, his mouth slightly agape.  Jemma squeezed his hand.

“Not everyone who gets to say their android doppleganger spoiled their proposal.”

Fitz smiled at that but shook his head.  “I’m sorry if…if it got your hopes…I don’t know…”

“Fitz.”

He stopped and looked at her.

“Fitz, I’m not asking you to marry me.  I’m just telling you that it doesn’t matter what happened there.  I mean it does, it matters a lot and it matters that she– it did that to you.  But not for that.  Not for us.  So we’re going to keep working and keep fighting and one day, whether it’s in six months or six years, we are going to be happy.  Because we deserve happiness.  You deserve happiness.”

Fitz shut his eye but squeezed her hand tighter.  “And if…” he whispered, trailing off.  He pulled at her, causing her to step closer.  “Jemma, I’m scared.”

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed a soft kiss over his heart.  “That’s okay,” she said.  “Just remember that, every single day, I am proud to be loved by you.”

He nodded against her, tears mixing with water on her shoulder.  But he held her close, willing to rely on her, as always, to wash the sea away.

Wasn’t It You And Me Against The World?

Word Count: 1510

    A/N: here was some requested angst! i tried to make the ending kind of open ended so you could make up your own decision. Hope you enjoy! Much love

Originally posted by lightwoodxalec


Originally posted by tbhlodge

MasterList

    “Y/N?” Veronica called, closing the front door behind her. She wandered around the girls’ house and made her way to her bedroom, slowly opening the door. She found her sleeping peacefully in her bed, her (Y/H/C) hair sprawled out across her pillow and her face buried in her comforter. Veronica smiled softly at the sight, she looked so happy and she felt bad that she was about to ruin it. She didn’t want to do it, but Y/N deserved to know, she had been lied to long enough.

    “Y/N?” Veronica whispered, and the girl stirred in her sleep.

    “Hmmm?”

     "You need to wake up, I have to tell you something.“ Veronica said, and Y/N slowly sat up, stretching and yawning.

    "What’s so important it couldn’t have waited until I had woken up on my own?” she asked, slightly annoyed. Veronica gave a small laugh, and sat on the edge of her bed.

    “Its about Jughead.” She said softly, and Y/Ns face fell, worry taking over.

    “Oh my god, is he okay?” Veronica took Y/Ns hand in hers and sighed, nodding her head. “Then what’s going on?”

    “Sweetie, I know that you and Jughead have been dating for a very long while…” Veronica started, and Y/N nodded her head.

    “Yeah, we have. We love each other very much. I’m in love with him.” she replied, smiling softly to herself, and Veronicas face fell.

    “Y/N, I hate that I have to be the one to give you this news… the only one who knows that I’m doing this is Kevin, who said he wanted to be here for you but this morning his dad dragged him to the station for some extra hands on deck. Everyone else wanted to keep this a secret, they said because it was done and over with there was no need for you to know and get hurt.” Veronica said, rubbing circles on the Y/Ns hand, and she looked confused at the raven-haired girl in front of her.

    “Veronica, whats going on?” she asked.

    “Y/N, sweetie, Jughead-” Just then Y/Ns phone started to ring, and she picked it up off the bed and looked at the caller ID.

    “Its Jughead.” She said, and Veronica looked worriedly at the girl. “I’m going to answer it.”

    “Put it on speaker please.” Veronica asked, and Y/N agreed.

    “Hey Juggie.” She said, placing the phone on the bed in between her and Veronica.

    “Is Veronica with you?”

    “Well Good Morning to you too. And yes, she is.”

    “What are you two doing?” he asked, and Y/N and Veronica could tell he was worried.

    “We’re about to have a very important talk, so if you could get off the phone Jughead, that would be great.” Veronica called out, and Y/N shot her another confused look.

    “Veronica, please don’t do this. At least lets talk about this before we make a decision we might regret.” He pleaded and Veronica rolled her eyes.

    “Don’t you think you’ve already made one of those? Its time to man up and admit your wrong doings Jughead, she deserves to know.” She snapped.

    “Someone better tell me what the hell is going on, right now!” Y/N yelled, and the two raven-haired kids fell silent, both waiting for the other one to speak. They sat there not speaking for a minute, awkwardly and uncomfortably.

    “Veronica please don-”

    “Jughead cheated on you, Y/N.” Veronica quickly spat out, and Y/N felt as her heart sank to her stomach. She looked to Veronica, and her eyes started to spill with tears but no sound came out.

    “Y/N, it was just once and it was a mistake. I am so sorry.” He said from the other side of the phone, and anybody listening could obviously tell he was crying.

    “With Betty. They got together one night after you and Jughead had a fight and things…escalated.” Veronica added, and Y/Ns face fell into her hands.

    “Y/N please say something. Anything?” he sobbed.

    “Juggie, it’s going to be okay…” Bettys voice came from the other side of the phone, barely a whisper and it set Y/N off.

    “Oh, so she’s with you right now too?” she asked angrily, and Veronica grabbed hold of Y/Ns hand, but she quickly ripped it away.

    “She’s here because Archie called us saying that Veronica was on her way to tell you. Archie is here too.” He sniffled.“Y/N, please listen to me, it was a mistake, a one-time thing that I regret whole heartedly. You must know that I love you, so very much and that you’re the best thing to happen to me. If I were to lose you, I don’t know what I would do with myself. You are the only thing in this world keeping me sane and I- I can’t lose that. We were in love, remember. You and me against the world?”  he said, and Y/N broke out in an audible sob. “You and me against the world? You promised.”

    “And you promised me that you loved me.” Y/N spat out angrily, her words slightly slurred by her crying.

    “I do love you, I always will.” It was his turn to let out an audible cry, and Y/N shook her head.

    “I don’t think you do. You went out and cheated on me with- with Betty. I am in love with you Jughead, madly in love, and you go and do me like this? We had plans together, we had dreams together, we were going to get engaged right after high school, remember? We were going to move far away from this god forsaken town and we were going to start over, you and me against the world! But now all of that’s ruined!” she cried, and Veronica moved over on the bed to hold the crying girl. “And you didn’t even love me enough to tell me yourself, not even enough to tell me in person. And Betty, we were so close and- and I can’t trust either of you anymore!” she buried her head in Veronicas shirt, holding onto the girl who Y/N felt was the only true friend she had, and Veronica smoothed her hair.

    “It doesn’t have to be ruined, I still want those things more than anything, I still want to be with you. Please, I am so so sorry. Just, give me on more chance, that’s all I need. One more to make it right, we can do it right this time.” He pleaded, and Y/N shook in Veronicas arms.

    “I think its time I hang up the phone now, Jughead. Give it some time, let her think.” Veronica said, reaching for the end call button.

    “Veronica please don’t hang up, I need to know her and I are okay, I need to know if I still have my princess by my side. I can’t lose-”  His voice fell silent, and Veronica threw the phone onto the desk chair, far away from her and the crying girl.

    “Shh, I know. You’re going to be okay at the end of this, I promise. You’re so strong.” Veronica soothed. She sat there an hour with the girl, running her hands through her hair and trying to calm her down, ignoring the tens of calls coming in. After her sobs had quieted down, Y/N sat up slowly, running her hand through her hair, and wiping tears from her face. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, until Y/N finally spoke up.

    “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I love him so damn much, but I hurt so bad.” She said, sniffling, a tear falling down her face again.

    “He loves you too, it’s obvious, but what he did is hard to forgive. I can’t tell you what to do on this one, this is something for you to decide.” Veronica whispered and Y/N nodded her head sadly. “But, who says you need to decide now? I brought ice cream over when I came, and I placed it in the freezer, so it should be cold. How about we watch some movies?” Veronica asked.

    “Sounds good, thank you Veronica. I really appreciate you.” She said, and Veronica pulled her into a hug.

    “I appreciate you too. And I will always be here, okay?” she asked, and Y/N nodded. “Okay, now lets go watch some movies.” Veronica said, jumping off the bed and making her way out of the room. Y/N stood from her bed and walked over to the desk chair, picking up her phone and looking at the many missed phone calls and texts from Jughead. She opened up her messages with him and typed out a text, throwing it back on the chair and making her way out of the room to Veronica.

To Juggie <3 :) – We need to talk, face to face. I’ve made my decision.

Tag List:

@do-not-call-me-sunshine@gelattoes@xbobaaa@katshrev@farmfreshcoldsprouts@sgarrett49@always-chocolate@nadya0128@spooky-brendons-butt @rainbows-and-glitter-bitch@lost-in-wonderland-x@aezthetically @mrs-jughead-jones @nafa1604

anonymous asked:

I noticed you mentioned that you're invested in Klance because it has the best opportunity to be steered towards canon. But what are the thoughts on Kallura? That has some better development in terms of character growth and developing a bond between. So could that necessarily be canon?

Warning! If you really like Kallura, you may not want to read what I’m about to say. I don’t have an actual problem with the ship itself, and I would never dream of hating on anyone who ships it, but I’ve been asked a question and I will answer it honestly. 

If I’m answering this objectively, I see far less development in Kallura than Klance. Klance fights, yes, but they have history and emotional involvement. Kallura has a bit of that, but it happened very suddenly and then was resolved very quickly. If a romance was to be formed between Keith and Allura, their conflict should have been stretched out to cause drama (like the continuing Klance conflict), but they resolved their differences very neatly (too neatly, in my opinion). Which tells me that Kallura was not the main aim, not romantically. The Keith-is-Galra conflict seemed like an excuse to develop Keith and Allura’s relationship in general (as well as Allura’s character, mainly), but it wasn’t a romantic lead-in, not with how it was structured. Also, it was… fairly awkward all around. And when Allura was captured that one time, Keith was actively, like, “let’s maybe not rescue her.” Like, even if they have a working friendship because of their situation, they don’t have much chemistry. A romance between them would seem forced, at least as it stands now. 

Now, my views on Kallura personally (which are a bit more bitter and ranty, so get ready).  

Kallura actively makes me uncomfortable, if I’m being totally honest. It doesn’t have anything to do with the characters themselves, really, but the implications behind the ship. Keith is the hotheaded hero and Allura is the princess. While she is perfectly capable of handling herself, this relationship is so entirely reductive and overdone that the thought of seeing something as diverse and interesting as Voltron plagued by such a relationship actually makes me upset. It’s so stereotypical–especially if Keith becomes leader (which I also hope doesn’t happen). It’s part of the reason why Shallura seems so plausible–because it’s the same potential “leader character falls for princess, etc, etc, etc.” Like, I don’t mind Shallura because it seemed like an obvious option from the beginning due to this same/similar trope (which meant I accepted it from the beginning), but, like I’ve said before, I won’t be butthurt if it doesn’t happen–I’m not emotionally invested because it’s so predictable. And I view Kallura the same way, because–to be frank–if the writers are going the way of Kallura, they’re probably going the way of Keith being the leader too and that’s a story that’s been told so many times before. Kallura is a romance that’s been played out over and over and over and over again. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of the bad boy and the princess. To the point where it nauseates me thinking about it. 

It’s not a matter of developement between them–I hope they do develop a better relationship–but as is, development could justify any romantic relationship in the show because every relationship between all the characters are so underdeveloped. But Kallura is the easy way because it’s a story that’s been told time and time again. Keith is the bad boy with the sketchy genes that make him somehow inferior, while Allura is the pure, morally correct princess type that initially disapproves of him. 

I do not want to see this romance again. Honestly, if it goes the way of Kallura, I’ll likely stop watching. I’ve seen it too many times. And I think it would be a royal waste of the potential this story has. They have such a diverse cast and such dynamic characters. I want to see something new and fresh. Yes, I am invested in Klance because I want to see these boys who hate one another become friends and realize they have feelings for one another, because it’s a story we see in fic, but that is never followed through within mainstream media. Kallura does nothing progressive and, in my opinion, is more hurtful to a narrative that is trying to bring in diversity than it is helpful. Keith and Lance have chemistry–be it antagonistic or not–and I want to see that followed through on for once. I don’t want to suffer the same disappointment I did in, say, the new Star Trek movies where the perfect relationship–Kirk and Spock–was set aside for some heteronormative trash that hurt both the characters involved (mostly Uhura). It is canon–as said by the original creator–that Kirk and Spock share a relationship strong enough to be physical, if that was the “style” of the time, yet that chemistry and potential was completely ignored. 

I’m tired of this. I’m tired of these heteronormative relationships with no chemistry cropping up into spaces that are perfectly viable for other relationships. I’m tired of writers being unable to see the potential because of some stupid societal expectation that everything needs to be cis and straight. 

I don’t care if Kallura was a thing in the original show or not, VLD is new and totally different and like they took a chance in making Pidge a girl/struggling with her gender identity, I want to see that trend continue. I want to see this diverse cast become even more diverse. I want it to be a thing that the lions chose these different, faulted people and that all of them represent different ideas and they can still be heroes and role models

If Keith does become leader, can you imagine how progressive him being gay would be? A gay, none-white leader and main character? Like, yes please!

The narrative doesn’t have room for Kallura without overshadowing other potential LGBT romances. So I don’t want it. I don’t want to watch another show fall into a boring, been there, done that love story when I could get a love story–albeit in the background–that is something progressive and fresh, at least to mainstream media.  

Kallura would ruin the show for me in so, so many ways and the idea of it happening literally pains me. I’d rather have no canon relationships than Kallura. 

And if you ship it, that’s fine. I’m happy you can enjoy it. But I really, really can’t no matter how I try. I’ve been trying to love every ship in Voltron, but I just… can’t with this one. 

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

Richonne(A dark skin reflection)

If you follow me, or have seen my posts, you know I am super Richonne affiliated. Why? I just love them. Not only do I love the characters, but the actors who portray the ship, Andrew Lincoln and Danai Gurira, do so perfectly.

But why do I just love them? It’s more than the trope of, “I am a dark skinned woman, thus I love this pairing because of that.” I love this pairing because of it’s bravery. Even in this modern world, others still can’t get over the fact that the most popular love interest for a white male lead CAN BE a dark skinned woman. It is not a crime. We need some loving too. Diversity, Inclusion, Representation: I’m all here for it.

Now this actress, Danai Gurira, is intelligent. Highly intelligent. How she handles criticism of this role, and let’s face it, the extreme hate she receives because of it, astounds me(I have never even seen a single retort back to the hate). She is nothing but a class act. I respect her because she understands how important it is to see a WOMAN who is beautiful, strong, complex, but knows she does not fit the standard acceptance of beauty.(She is super beautiful though. I would kill for her body, uggggggh).This makes her highly targeted, and often the only one singled out. Often times, when people down this ship, I’ll look at their profile and see countless photos of Norman Reedus, Andrew Lincoln, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, and Tom Payne, but never much Michonne (Oh okay, Michonne is your favorite character, but I ain’t seen her ass in any picture or gifset I done flicked by on your dash. But I digress).

We are talking about the most watched show in television history. This coupling is seen over the entire world. What blows my mind even more is that the lead star, you know Andrew Lincoln, has actively campaigned for the pairing to be realized on the television screen. Now, this man has not seen one episode of his own show, but is aware of the magnitude that the Rick and Michonne pairing would have on the world.

He has constantly said that this relationship would be inevitable, and now that it has come to fruition, I start seeing mini Merle’s come out the wood works. (What I’m seeing when I read hot button words like “cringe,” “uncomfortable,” “I just don’t understand,” “no chemistry,” “Rick’s not good enough for Michonne,” makes me upset.) Y'all really want to say, “That’ll be the day I see a nigga kissing Rick.”(At least Rick let Merle know what day it was). Ain’t no white meat or dark meat homeslice, lol.

So, what gets me is that I constantly hear “Michonne is great we love her. She is a bad ass. She is my favorite character. But, and l want you to listen to this big ass but, I don’t like her with Rick, our white male hero. She can take care of his kids and kill for him, put her life on the line for him, but not love him. That’s too much. That’s crossing the line.” I’ll proceed to ask why and get responses like. “I don’t like two strong characters together.”(Oh, so you like strong ass Daryl and strong ass Caryl together? Or a strong Maggie/strong Glenn? Or, strong Daryl with a strong Jesus?). OK, gotcha. Or, “I never saw this coming.” (I never saw Trump becoming president, shit happens). Roll with it.

I’ve recently read, “I can’t wait for her to die.”(Thanks for waiting, she won’t). Or, “why are you always attacking us for an opinion”(why you all up in the Richonne tag lurking and getting angry cause we getting spoiler after spoiler and just dancing and drinking our wine, eating our popcorn and preparing our caskets for 7b).

Guess what, I’m not fond of a lot of things. I don’t like watching water polo( I don’t actively care if others know that fact or not). That’s like me going on every social media account and screaming to everyone “I like all water sports, swimming, diving, you name it, but I don’t know, water polo makes me uncomfortable. I want to barf when I see water polo. That’ll be the day I see water polo being played.” (See, that sounds silly as hell). This is how y'all sound with your dehydrated selves.

Richonners, y'all are lovely people. I’ve never liked a fandom so much. Nothing but positivity comes from us. I even support many other ships ( Caryl, desus, gleggie, tara/ denise, aaron/eric. I even low key ship carol/Morgan, carol/Ezekiel). So just stop it haters. Stop lying to yourselves.

That dark skin has some mighty power, if it gets your panties in a bunch like that. Here’s some Gatorade for that salt y'all be losing in the tag.

Originally posted by gatorade

Strings Attached

Summary:  Marinette could see the red strings of fate holding people together, but no one was allowed to know that.  That fact didn’t stop her from using her knowledge to nudge soulmates together.  Of course, this led to her getting a reputation as the class matchmaker, which isn’t an issue until her soulmate, Adrien Agreste, asks her to set him up with another girl.  

Red Strings of Fate/Soulmate AU!

AO3 | 1 | 2 |

Chapter 2: Matchmaker, Make Me a Match

“Pound it,” the two masked heroes of Paris said after the latest Akuma had been purified. The fight wasn’t difficult. Neither of them had to use their abilities, though they both wished hawkmoth would’ve kept his Akumatizing for before midnight. The Akuma, “Road Rage,” was more of a nuisance than a threat. All he did was making annoying honking noises. Hawkmoth seemed to be running out of ideas.

Since neither had used their abilities, Ladybug and Chat Noir were in no rush to part after the attack, despite the fact that it was late night. Marinette always liked these moments the best, but she would never admit that to Chat.

“Purrfect as always, My Lady,” he smiled.

Ladybug ruffled hair, deciding to ignore the cringe worthy pun, “You didn’t do so bad yourself, Kitty. Besides, I think that was our easiest fight yet.”

“Well, we do seem to fight well together,” he leaned into her hand, “but that’s just because we’re made fur each other.”

She scoffed, but continued scratching behind his ear, “I don’t know about that…” but she truly didn’t. She could never really know who his soulmate was while he’s transformed.

“But, don’t you believe in soulmates, My Lady?” He pulled away, so he could look into her eyes.

Keep reading

Eye Candy - Chapter One

Ship: marliza (Maria Reynolds x Eliza Schuyler)

AU/Time Period: modern time, au where the whole world is black and white until you touch your soulmate

Warnings: Light swearing, threatening behavior, harsh words

Word Count: 2,568

a/n: @puns-and-fics hello this is roadblock anon speaking and i have finally revealed my identity. you told me to tag you in my fanfic, so here i am. i hope y’all enjoy my work :) (also, my computer would not let me as a “READ MORE” button so i SINCERELY apologize for the long post)


Eliza had a bad habit of holding her breath in crowds. It had gotten to the point where she couldn’t control it- she’d just be walking through a big, people-littered area and just forget to breathe. It had started when she was little and her older sister, Angelica, had told her to be careful in crowds, because if you somehow walked past your soulmate and brushed hands, you would see color- but not know who your soulmate was. So, Eliza found herself walking without breathing, her arms always tucked close to her body. She didn’t want to risk it.

Keep reading

Concern

So here is another Bughead fic. This is one is canon compliant. @riverdalehighvixens thank you so much for your help, checking over my work. :)


It doesn’t take long for Jughead to figure out that something’s on Betty’s mind.

Betty had been acting weird ever since Dilton Doiley came in with the information of seeing Miss Grundy’s car in the woods.

Not ‘I know Archie is sleeping with Miss Grundy’ weird, Jughead would have been able to pick up on that. No, this is different.

But from the way she spends her time staring off into space, hand holding a pen over her notebook ready to write if she has to, Jughead can tell that she doesn’t want him to notice anything is amiss.

He decides to test his theory.

“Betty?” He calls out casually.

Betty doesn’t respond.

“Betty?” He asks, a bit louder, but still keeping his voice soft.

Betty looks over at him quickly, pressing her pen down to the notebook ever so slightly. “Yes, Juggy?”

“I’m going to get something from the vending machine, you want anything?”

“No, thank you.” She smiles gratefully at him before looking back at her notepad, which doesn’t have a lot written in it.

Jughead turns around and heads to the vending machine, his theory proven correct, doubling his concern.

It isn’t until the next day when he’s sitting with Archie, Betty, Veronica and Kevin that he notices something else. While Betty’s doing a good job of listening and joining the conversation when it comes to Kevin and Archie, Betty’s not looking or talking as much with Veronica.

He’s off to his own, just sitting there in all his 'brooding mystery’ as Veronica calls it, and tries to pinpoint other areas of tension. But other than Betty not looking at Veronica, and Veronica shooting well hidden concerned glances every once in a while, everything else is fine.

Archie is excitedly telling them about his new sound proof music room and how he’s going to invite them over as soon as he’s not grounded anymore. His excitement is enough to distract Jughead as Archie looks at each of his friends one at a time. That’s the magic of Archie, he makes you feel special.

Kevin is too into Archie’s story that he’s not as observant as usual. If Jughead can give him credit for anything, it’s always catching the smallest shift in Betty since she’s his best friend. But now he’s exchanging ideas with Archie, who’s responding back with the same enthusiasm.

It seems today was a good day to have this conversation. Otherwise, both Kevin and Archie would have picked up on Betty and Veronica’s behavior.

Veronica excuses herself to go to the restroom, asking Betty to watch her purse. Betty tells her yes, and Veronica gets up after looking at Betty, but Betty is resolute in not looking at her.

Jughead gives it a minute before announcing he’s going to get something from the vending machine. Archie and Kevin make their demands pulling money from their wallets.

“You want anything, Betty?” Archie asks, “I’ll pay.”

“Yeah, you’re a little quiet today. I think you’re in need of a sugar boost.” Kevin adds in.

Betty chuckles nervously. “I’m not quiet. You guys have reason to be extra chatty today. It’s really cool that your Dad is doing this for you, Archie.” Betty smiles.

Archie smiles in return. “Yeah, he’s the best. Is there anything you want?”

“Just a water, thank you. I’m just thirsty.”

Jughead takes their money, making note of everything they wanted, and he’s just in time to run into Veronica in the hallway.

“Going to the vending machine, want anything?”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Okay.”

Well that makes everything easier.

“You’re quiet today.” Jughead points out, thinking this is a safe place to start.

“Archiekins has better news than anything I could say.” Veronica states, and Jughead knows she’s playing conversation chess, because that was said so Jughead wouldn’t try to ask more questions.

Jughead almost admires her, but he’s got an objective. “You’ve had a bad couple of days. I can understand that.”

“Can you?” Veronica shoots him an easy smirk.

“Not personally, but if Betty is any indication, then yes, I understand.” There, he set the bait.

Veronica doesn’t let anything past her impassive face, but when she glances at him the worry there, in her eyes. “Is she okay?”

She’s not, but Jughead doesn’t know what’s wrong, and if Veronica doesn’t know either then he doesn’t have any leads anymore.

“She’s been extra quiet ever since the Clayton incident.”

Veronica isn’t confused like he thought she would be, and Jughead realizes that she does know something. Maybe not the whole thing, but she knows something.

“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?” Veronica doesn’t answer right away.

“I don’t know anything if that’s what you’re after.” She finally states.

“But something happened.” Jughead says.

“You’re her friend, right? She trusts you?” Veronica asks instead.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Then ask her. You’re not one to beat around the bush, just ask her.”

“You can’t tell me anything?” Jughead asks, because he knows if he’s going to have to ask Betty, he won’t be able to help her like he hoped he would.

“It’s not my place to tell, Jughead.” Veronica starts walking down the hall to the vending machine and Jughead doesn’t try not to worry this time, because Veronica confirmed that something was bothering Betty.

When they return, Betty is the first one to look over. It doesn’t take a genius to know that when she sees Veronica and Jughead together, Betty figured that they talked about her. It was in the way she didn’t look at him once even though he was sitting right across from her on Archie’s left.

After school, when they’re in the Blue and Gold offices, Betty stares at her notepad, writing every once in a while, but Jughead knows she’s waiting for him to say something. There’s a visible tension in her shoulders.

Jughead wants to ask, he wants to help, but if he knows something about Betty it’s that she has to be the one to take the first step. Anything else would be too much like how her Mother demands things of her.

“Betty?”

Betty relaxes her shoulder before she looks up at him, expression casual, but her lips closed tight and that tells Jughead everything. She won’t talk.

“You want to get out of here? We can work at Pop’s today. I’m in the mood for a burger. I’ll buy you anything.”

“I thought it was always on me?” Betty asks after a moment’s pause as she searched his face, a small smile starts forming in her lips, and Jughead knows he’s doing something right.

“I’m breaking the golden rule of asking you to leave before my article is at least rough drafted. It’s on me today.” He gives her a pointed look. “Just today. My demand still stands.”

Betty shakes her head chuckling and that knot of worry twists uncomfortably in his chest, because he wants her to always be smiling and easy going and happy. She shouldn’t loose her happiness by being bogged down by whatever had happened.

“Okay.” She stretches before grabbing her things and Jughead shoots her a half smile.

He makes easy conversation with her, keeping the subject on the article and how even though he broke the rule, he gets bonus points for knowing what he’s going to type up. So it’s like he did the whole article.

Betty does seem more relaxed after that, and Jughead makes sure to keep on safe topics.

“I’m really happy Archie’s Dad soundproofed the garage for him.”

“It should be fun hearing his new songs.” Jughead acknowledges. “We should go together.”

They both pause, processing his words. That had to be the second time Jughead asked Betty to do something with him.

Betty slowly smiles at him. “You know, if you want to ask me out, all you need to do is ask.” She’s teasing him and Jughead has to fight off a grin.

“Duly noted.” Jughead replies, opting to keep his answer vague, but even then a soft blush blooms in her cheeks and she can’t stop smiling as she continues to eat her fries.

Jughead watches her silently, with a fond smile of his own.

happy-bub  asked:

hey it's me!!!! i'm sorry i've been away but school has been SUPER hard plus i have swim practice every day. i had an idea for a fic? i think i saw one similar but id like to see your take on it. just super angst you saeran in love with mc but she doesn't return his feelings BC she loves saeyoung. pls no saeran x mc x saeyoung BC it makes me super uncomfortable

Thank you for your request sweetie  *v* i hope you like it!


He saw her first

It’s just painful. Painful to see the very first person you ever loved in your whole life in another man’s arm, especially if this man is your brother.
Saeran just wants to hold you in his arms for at least one time and know that you’re his, but you know that this is not going to happen. Of course, he feels bad for loving his brother’s wife, but he just can’t help it, and he doesn’t want to tell that to anyone, he never opens up, imagine in this situation.
Even being cured, even being here with his family, with new friends, and with a life, he can’t help it, he still feels a big hole in his heart, he needs love, a true love, you would be perfect.
He thanks himself for having this grumpy face, nobody even thinks he must be jealous or sad, only grumpy, hating seeing you and Saeyoung being all lovey dovey together.
He wonders if one day you’ll change your mind and see him in from of you…But this another wild dream in his head, oh yes, this all that he can do: Dream.
He always dreams, what would be like if you were his, all those kisses were meant for you, not for Saeyoung, he would do all that you wanted him to do, he thinks a smile would be always in his face…But he’s alone.
He wants to forget you, he really does, but every time you smile at him for anything, or if he listens to you laugh, or look at your eyes...Or even think about you, he has no choice, he can’t help but love you.
He needs help, he can’t do this alone, he wants to pray, Saeyoung always said that helps, but every time he closes his eyes he remembers you.
You’re in control of him.
Your story with Saeran has no ending since it hasn’t even a beginning.
The heaven that is being with you is not meant for him, he accepts that.
His whole life will be like that, he can’t stand on his feet, what is he becoming now?
He cries about this, almost every night, he wipes his tears with his sleeve of his sweater.
This time, he has almost a hundred percent of sure nobody will save him, even one day with you would be the best thing in his life if he could only spend all day with you…If he could only hold tight, but he accepts the defeat.
He wants to let you know all this, this hurts so much, he’s trying to let you go. He’s so grumpy, mad about everything, cold, but with you, it’s not like that at all.
Inside this mask, inside his walls, it has a Saeran that loves you so much.
His life is not going to get brighter.
You’re in his brother’s arms and he has to see this every day…Time is his only ally, only he might take you out of his mind.
He always tries to not kiss you, or even hug you, or he doesn’t let you go. He could even try to confess, but he knows he would get an“I don’t love you.” and it would ruin everybody’s life.
He’s so sick, so tired of all these feelings, he’s crying so much because of that, he took you like his new drug, he lost his mind again.
He fell in love and fell apart.
And every time Luciel asks him if he’s alright Saeran lies and say “Of course i’m fine, idiot brother.”
Saeran just hopes you’ll be happy.
But he’s too tired of listening to the sound of his tears.

Needy

Genre: Smut/bit of fluff

Pairing: You x Chanyeol

Word Count: 4,966

Summary: Everything was going fine at the hotel you were staying at… Until the people in the room next door start making a bit too much noise. You decide to get out of your room, only to find yourself falling into a similar situation.

A/N: This is pretty long and repetitive at times but I had fun writing it. Sorry for any typos!

Not only could I hear the headboard banging against the drywall, but I could feel my own bed shaking as a result. I tried not to be bothered, but the sounds coming from next door penetrated through the thin walls and filled my room. I glared at my phone, seeing that it was a little after midnight. I let out a disgusted sigh. They had been at it for almost an hour. I angrily rolled on my stomach, squishing my face into the pillow.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I yelled into the cushion, hoping that the literal fuckers next door would hear me. As one could guess, they didn’t. I yanked the blankets off of my body and sat up, brushing my staticy hair out of my face. I was usually a patient person, but how did the people next door not realize how loud they were? Or was that all part of the fun? Disturbing the peace? Seeing who could pull the loudest reaction? I didn’t really know anything about hotel sex, considering the fact that I’d never done it, but I knew that the noises coming from the room next door were making me uncomfortable.

I shook my head, trying to think of something to do to distract myself. I could listen to music, but my bed would still be rattling underneath me. I could tell them to stop, but I wasn’t one for confrontation and I’m sure they’d be much too busy to listen anyways. I guess I’d just have to leave my room for a bit and hope they’d be done when I got back. It was pretty late though, and there weren’t many places for me to go in the hotel. The pool closed at eleven and I didn’t have money for the bar/lounge area. I sighed, throwing my hair into a messy bun. I picked up my hoodie from the floor and tossed it over my head, letting the material engulf my body. I guess I’d just have to find a different place.

I stepped out of my room, being sure to grab my phone and my key card. The moans coming from the room next door were much louder in the hallway. I rolled my eyes, hearing the girl’s strangled sounds echoing off the walls. As much as I was annoyed and uncomfortable, I felt a bit envious knowing this girl was getting it good. At least, it sure sounded like she was.

I knew if I stood by their door any longer I’d look like a complete pervert, so I immediately turned the opposite direction and headed down the hallway. I adjusted my shorts, making sure they were at least somewhat visible under my oversized hoodie as I walked. Although I had no idea as to where I was going, the empty, dimly lit corridor gave me a sense of peace and comfort.

As I neared the end of the hallway, I decided to go down a level, remembering that there was an ice machine on the floor below. I stomped down the stairs, reaching the tiny off-chute that held the icebox, a vending machine, a small bench nestled in the corner, and a green house plant. I looked up, noticing how the room was only illuminated by a single lightbulb, giving the space a hazy golden glow.

I curled up on the backless bench, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my head against the wall to my left. This room was slightly colder than the hallway, but it was peaceful and there was soft music playing from the speaker system that was hooked up somewhere within the walls. I eyed the vending machine curiously, wondering if there was anything of worth in there. I saw some chips and candy bars, feeling a familiar rumble stirring in my stomach. I rummaged through the front pocket of my hoodie, remembering I had stuffed some change into it earlier. I stood up to get a better look at the snacks in the vending machine, counting the change I had in my pocket.

“Great,” I sighed quietly, realizing I only had 75 cents. The cheapest thing in the vending machine was $1.25. I lightly smacked the machine, not really sure of what to do with myself now. I stared at the vending machine for a couple seconds before I heard the sound of footsteps in the room. I turned around just as someone entered. He was looking down at his phone, but he slowly lifted his head once he sensed my presence, his eyes locking with mine. I adverted my gaze, the sight of his messy bed hair and ruffled clothes now etched in my mind.

“Oh, sorry-” he stammered as he locked his phone and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I didn’t realize someone else was here.” His deep voice took precedence over the soft music humming in the background and his presence captured my attention.

“No, no it’s okay. I don’t own this room,” I laughed awkwardly. I wasn’t used to talking to guys that looked like he did. I wasn’t used to talking to guys in general.

“It’s just-” he scratched the back of his neck, as if he was looking for the right words to say. I noticed the way his bare arms flexed with his movements.

“It’s just that, it’s pretty noisy on my floor,” he said with a lazy smile and slight eye roll, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats. I eagerly nodded back, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Yeah, it’s noisy on my floor too. More specifically, the room next to mine,” I laughed humorlessly, leaning against the glass front of the vending machine. The boy threw his head back and sighed, looking at me with a sympathetic smile.

“I’m so sorry they’re in the room next to you,” he said sincerely. Before I could reply, he pointed at the vending machine with a confused expression.

“Am I interrupting you? Were you going to buy something?”

“Oh, no. I- I was thinking about it, but I’m a bit short,” I said, holding up my three quarters. The boy leaned against the wall, his hands again in his pockets as if he were looking for something. I could hear the jingling of loose change. He pulled out a couple quarters and stepped closer to me.

“I can cover for you,” he said politely, cocking his head to the side.

“No, it’s totally okay,” I retorted politely, holding my hands up in defense.

“Are you sure?” He asked, extending his arm and offering me the change. I simply nodded and returned back to the bench, sitting on the side away from the corner.

“I’m positive, but thank you so much for the offer.” The boy simply smiled at me and inserted the coins he was holding.

“Suit yourself,” he stated, looking at the options in the vending machine. He let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

“Hmm, I seem to be having trouble choosing,” he began, turning slightly to face me, “What would you recommend I buy?” I laughed at his adamant efforts, nervously fixing my hair.

“I don’t want you to buy me anything, honestly,” I laughed.

“But, what do you think tastes the best?” He asked, somehow keeping a straight face. I looked down at the floor and playfully shook my head.

“If you really want to know, I guess I’d buy the chocolate covered pretzels, but please don’t buy them because of m-” before I could finish my sentence he had already bought the pretzels. He shuffled over to where I was sitting, his long legs making his journey easy.

“Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asked, his voice dripping like honey.

“No, not at all,” I responded, a bit too quickly, not knowing how to handle myself around him. He sat next to me, where I had previously been sitting in the corner, but he wasn’t so close as to make me uncomfortable. He leaned his back against the wall and opened the bag of pretzels, instantly offering me the some. I took one from the bag and placed my three quarters on his lap. He laughed, brushing the coins off his legs.

“You don’t have to pay me for pretzels.” He placed the change in my lap and I shoved it back into my hoodie pocket. There was no winning with this guy. This guy. Maybe I should get his name.

“Thank you, -?”

“Chanyeol,” he stated as he took a pretzel from the bag. He looked at me as if waiting for a response.

“Y/N,” I replied quietly. He repeated after me, my name easily rolling off his tongue. God, who was I? I had just met this guy. I had to relax. I analyzed our conversation in my head, suddenly remembering that there was a question I wanted to ask him earlier.

“I don’t mean to pry,” I began, my gaze fixed on the floor, “but earlier you said you were sorry about the people in the room next door to mine, as if you were apologizing for their actions. Do you know them?” Chanyeol slowly nodded as he finished chewing his pretzel. I glanced up at him, his eyes now focused on mine.

“I know one of them,” he stated, flashing me a weak grin. I didn’t want to force conversation, but I was curious.

“Can I ask who?”

“My friend- well, bandmate, Baekhyun, is in that room,”

“And his girlfriend…?” Chanyeol looked down at his feet, shaking his head in response.

“Baek doesn’t have a girlfriend,” Chanyeol said, clearing his throat shortly afterwards.

“Oh,” I responded awkwardly, realizing that what was going on in that room wasn’t anything more than a sloppy hookup. I should have figured. Now I just looked stupid. I decided to change the subject before I dug myself an even deeper hole.

“So you two are in a band?” I asked with a smile. Chanyeol slightly nodded, clicking his tongue as if looking for the correct response.

“We’re in a group with a couple of other guys,” he began, “you see, we didn’t put on a good performance tonight,”

“I’m sure you weren’t that bad,” I responded.

“Maybe not,” he began slowly,  “…but Baek thought he screwed everything up.” I suddenly understood what he was saying, letting out a sound of realization.

“What he and that girl are doing… that’s what happens after a bad show?” Chanyeol simply nodded. He probably thought I was a bit of an idiot, but my mind was too busy wondering about other things. If that’s how they took out their frustration after a bad show, I wonder how they celebrated a good show? I clenched my legs at the thought. Chanyeol seemed to notice my shift in demeanor.

“We don’t have to talk about this anymore,” he said as he discarded the empty pretzel bag. I really looked at him, taking in the way the dim lighting bounced off his silky skin and perfectly outlined his tone muscles. His hair was just the right amount of messy and his eyes were a bit droopy due to his tiredness. His tank top hung off of his body and his sweatpants sat just right on his hips, just low enough…

“Why aren’t you with someone tonight?” I whispered, unable to believe that I dared to ask him such a question. Who was I? Chanyeol let out a low chuckle.

“I don’t really know how to answer that,” he began, his gaze flickering down my body, landing on my exposed thighs. “I guess… I am a bit lonely tonight.” I felt my breath hitch at the back of my throat. I shifted my eyes and looked at Chanyeol, knowing that this was a chance I couldn’t let go to waste. But before I could make a move, Chanyeol’s lips had already crashed onto mine, pulling an involuntary moan from me. Chanyeol took this opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, working it against mine. He cradled my head in his large hands, running his thumbs over my jaw and pulling me closer to him. I decided that that wasn’t good enough. I lifted myself from the bench and slowly straddled him, placing a knee on either side of his lap. Chanyeol let out a small moan at the feeling of warmth against his crotch, his hands gripping at the backs of my bare thighs. His lips were once again on mine, the intense kissing bringing a sting to my flesh.

Chanyeol slowly ran his hands under my hoodie and tank top, brushing his calloused fingers against my burning skin. I moaned into the kiss, getting a rise out of every touch he was giving me.

“You’re so responsive,” he panted, his breath fanning over my neck as his lips worked at the soft spot behind my ear. I rested my head in the crook of his neck, tangling my fingers in his hair, tugging at the soft strands,

“Is this okay?” He asked as he trailed down my neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. I could feel his lips curling into a deviant smirk.

“Yes,” I breathed, taking my fingers out of his hair and desperately latching onto his shoulders. Chanyeol ran his tongue over the developing bruises he had given me, soothing the irritated skin. He took the hem of my hoodie in his hands, eyeing me as if asking for permission. I eagerly nodded, too caught up in the moment to think about anything but his hands on my body. Chanyeol removed my hoodie and gingerly brushed my hair out of my face. His lips worked at my newly exposed skin, starting with the soft flesh of my collar bones.

“Chanyeol,” I breathed, my hands wrapping around the back of his neck.

“Hmmm?” He hummed against my skin.

“I’m lonely tonight too,” I stated quietly.

“Yeah?” Chanyeol cooed between kisses as he trailed his lips down to the tops of my breasts that my tank top left exposed. He slowly ran a rough finger up my arm, tugging down the straps of my bra and shirt. Even though Chanyeol was a complete stranger, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see how much I craved him. The heat pooling between my legs was evident to people miles away, and the pressure of Chanyeol’s growing erection against my clothed core was already enough to send me over the edge.

“Chanyeol,” I cried out desperately, “I want you… so badly.” I’m sure that was music to his ears, but he reached out a hand and held my shoulder to still my movements.

“Not here,” he stated, his gaze meeting mine. Obviously I didn’t want to do it here, next to the vending machine where anyone could walk by. I mean, that could be fun, but I just nodded my head, biting my lip to stifle the eager sounds I wanted to make. Chanyeol lifted me from his lap and took my hand in his, leading me up the stairs and down the hall to his room. To my surprise, it was directly across the hall from mine. Chanyeol wasted no time fumbling with the door key like I would’ve, and we were immediately in his room, his foot closing the door behind him.

Without wasting a second, Chanyeol worked his mouth against mine. His lips were undeniably soft and I could feel how swollen they were as my tongue brushed over them. I tugged slightly at Chanyeol’s bottom lip with my teeth, earning a throaty groan from him. He skimmed his fingers down my sides and peeled off my tank top, leaving me in my bra and shorts. I felt his hands run down the back of my thighs as he told me to jump. I did as I was told, my legs straddling Chanyeol’s waist and my back banging against his door. Chanyeol’s lips attacked my neck as he unclasped my bra, letting it fall to the floor. I took this moment to look around at his room. It was far from organized, but it wasn’t terrible. Things from his suitcase were scattered randomly throughout the room. I noticed that he seemed to have fancy things and brand name clothing. Maybe his band was more successful than I had thought? I looked around some more, noticing a pile of what appeared to be gifts by the coffee table. There was a variety of things like stuffed animals, bouquets of flowers, and a literal ton of cards and notes.

My attention was pulled back once Chanyeol’s lips made contact with my nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub. I gasped at the contact, tugging desperately at Chanyeol’s hair, signaling him to continue. He smirked against my skin as he massaged my other breast, his thumb flicking at the hardened bud. I threw my head back against the door, a soft moan falling from my lips. My panties were literally drenched at this point and I moved my hips against Chanyeol’s waist as a desperate attempt to relieve some tension.

“Easy,” he chuckled against my chest as he held my hips still. Chanyeol removed his lips from my breast and walked us over to his bed, gently setting me down on his ruffled white sheets. He hovered over me and I wasted no time, feverishly tugging at the hem of his loose tank top.

“Someone’s eager,” he teased as he grabbed at the collar of his shirt, slowly pulling it over his head. He brought his body closer to mine, allowing me to run my fingers down his firm torso, his hot muscles contracting under my cool touch. Chanyeol teased the waistband of my shorts, brushing his fingers over the skin of my lower stomach.

“Can I take these off?” He asked softly. I could only nod, my body so ready for his touch I was barely able to form words. Chanyeol slowly removed my shorts, his rough fingers grazing over my legs as he did so. He cocked his head and clicked his tongue upon noticing the wetness that had collected in my panties.

“Y/N,” he said as he slowly massaged my thighs, “you’re so wet and I haven’t even touched you properly.” Chanyeol’s words were like velvet, his voice reaching something in me his body couldn’t. As he spoke, he ran his finger down my clothed core, pressing lightly against my clit.

“Chanyeol,” I mewled, spreading my legs further for him as soft moans fell from my lips. Chanyeol slipped his finger under the hem of my underwear, tugging them down my legs and tossing them on the floor. The cool air made contact with my wetness, causing a low groan to escape me. I’d never felt like this before; this fucking needy. My body was literally shaking with anticipation. Chanyeol’s fingers were so long and rough and I knew they would work wonders inside of me. I pulled his fingers closer to me, running them along my soaking slit. Before I could do it for him, Chanyeol inserted two fingers inside of me.

“Shit,” I moaned at the sudden intrusion. After allowing me to adjust, he pumped his fingers into me at a quick pace, curling them perfectly to hit my g-spot. I threw my head back against the pillows, allowing my nails to dig into his forearm.

“More,” I begged, not caring about how disgustingly desperate I sounded. Chanyeol inserted a third finger, deliciously stretching out my walls. I could feel the familiar knot forming in my stomach as Chanyeol’s thumb worked at my clit. I shut my eyes, my lips parting as harsh pants fell from my mouth.

“I can tell you’re close, babe,” Chanyeol stated as he quickened his pace, relentlessly driving his thick fingers into my core. I nodded with a stifled moan, rocking my hips against his skilled fingers, nearing dangerously close to the edge. Chanyeol applied even more pressure on my clit, running his thumb in quick circles. That was all it took. I cried out his name as I came around his fingers, a wave of pleasure washing over my entire body. Chanyeol kept pumping until I was totally spent. He pulled his fingers out of me and brought them to my lips, allowing me to taste myself.

“Good girl,” Chanyeol hummed. He wasted no time in undressing himself, removing his sweatpants and boxers in one fell swoop, his erection slapping against his stomach. Chanyeol was certainly well endowed and if his fingers caused my walls to sting, I knew his dick would fucking destroy me. He gathered the precum that had collected and swirled it around the head of his cock, lubricating himself with his own arousal. He reached into the bedside table and grabbed a condom, opening the package with his teeth and discarding the wrapper. He pulled the condom down his length, hissing as the rubber snapped against his skin.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked as he hovered over me, his large hands gently gripping my hips.

“Do you even have to ask?” I laughed breathlessly, knowing that this was the most I had ever wanted someone. Chanyeol smirked at me as he ran the tip of his cock down my slit, ogling over my wetness. His head brushed over my clit several times, each time pulling an involuntary groan from the back of my throat. Chanyeol bit his lip as he slowly entered me, my wills still sensitive from my last orgasm.

“Fuck, Chanyeol,” I cried out as I looked down at his length buried inside my drenched core. Chanyeol dropped his head into the crook of my neck, his breath fanning over my sweat dampened skin.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted. I gripped onto his shoulder, signalling him to continue, but he refused to move.

“Chanyeol,” I groaned.

“What baby?” He asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. How could he have so much control over himself?

“Please…” I whined.

“Please what?”

“Please, do something,” I cried desperately, bringing my fingers down to my clit to help myself. Chanyeol slapped my hand away and scolded me, a lazy smirk plastered to his face.

“Babe, just tell me what you want me to do.” I was far beyond the point of being embarrassed. I was absolute putty in Chanyeol’s hands and I was fucking desperate for him.

“Please, just fuck me already,” I begged. Just like that, Chanyeol pulled out and rocked his length back into me, his grip on my hips tightening.

“Fuck,” I panted. Chanyeol continued thrusting into me at an even pace, his dick filling my walls just right. I took this time to admire him, the way his hair had fallen in his face and how the sweat had stuck to his skin. I needed more of him.

“Faster,” I barely managed to say. Chanyeol began barreling into me, his hair falling against my neck as he leaned down to suck on my collar bone. His fingertips dug into my hip bones, surely bruising the soft skin. I raked my nails down his back, feeling his muscles twitch under the harsh contact. Chanyeol hissed against my skin, the pain only egging him on. He somehow managed to quicken his pace, his headboard now banging against the wall, my body being pounded into his mattress. The stinging between my legs was excruciating, but for some reason, I fucking loved it. I bit down on my lip, the slight taste of blood mixing with my saliva.   

“Chan-yeol,” I cried, practically able to feel his thrusts hit the back of my throat.

“Hmm,” he grunted against my neck.

“I’m close,” I breathed. Right when he was about to say something, there was a sudden knock at the door. My eyes widened as I felt my body jump out of my skin. I tried to push Chanyeol off of me, but he only slowed inside of me, his hand quickly clamping over my mouth and holding me in place.

“Shhh,” he said, seemingly unphased, “don’t worry, the door’s locked.”

“Chanyeol?” Someone called from the other side, “It’s Sehun, can I come in?”

“I’m about to hop in the shower,” Chanyeol called out as he continued to slowly thrust into me. I moaned into his hand, tasting the sweat that had accumulated on his skin.

“Oh alright, text me if you want to do something later,” the voice responded as I heard footsteps shuffling away. Chanyeol took his hand off of my mouth and pushed my hair out of my face, grinning down at me. He began quickening his pace as if picking up where we had left off before the interruption. His thrusts were painfully deep and he managed to hit my sweet spot every fucking time. I threw my head back, my eyes screwing shut. Chanyeol had turned me into a moaning mess, rendering me totally incoherent.

“I’m- going to-”

“Oh no, not yet baby,” Chanyeol grunted as he sucked harshly at the soft spot behind my ear.

“Just, fuck!” I screamed as I gripped the blanket, tears threatening to spill from my eyes as I struggled to catch my breath. I threaded my fingers through Chanyeol’s hair and harshly tugged at the strands. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my heels into base of his spine, pulling him deeper inside me.

“Fuck,” Chanyeol breathed as he filled me completely, totally bottoming me out. He let out a low, strangled moan, his voice rumbling through my body as he began pounding into me, somehow reaching deeper than before.

“Shit,” I cried out. It hurt. It hurt so fucking good, his thrusts sending electric pulses throughout my body. My entire being was buzzing with the Godly sensation of pain mixing with pleasure.

“Fuck,” I breathed. Chanyeol brought his finger to his mouth, sucking on the tip and running the slick digit over my swollen bundle of nerves. I completely lost it, finally hitting my second high. My walls clenched around Chanyeol as I orgasmed, pulling him over the edge. His thrusts grew sloppy as his breathing became erratic, a string of curses falling from his bruised lips. I felt him twitch inside me, releasing into the condom. He continued thrusting into me a few more times to ride out his high.  

I just laid there, brushing my hair out of my face and attempting to catch my breath. Chanyeol slowly pulled out of me with a low moan. I watched as he pulled the condom off his sensitive cock, hissing at the painful feeling. I looked up at his face, taking in his flushed cheeks and wonderfully swollen lips. My eyes trailed down his body, admiring the way the sweat had accumulated on his skin. Chanyeol reached out towards me and brushed a couple strands of hair out of my face, tucking them behind my ear.

“What are you staring at?” He asked with a devious smirk. I shook my head, feeling embarrassed that he had caught me admiring him. Oh well. Chanyeol pulled on his boxers and handed me the box of tissues from the night stand.

“Thanks,” I said as I went to sit up. I quietly winced at the sudden pain between my legs, deciding to wipe myself off while laying down. I tried to be quiet, not wanting Chanyeol to see me in the state I was in. I immediately discarded the used tissues and tried to stay still. Chanyeol sat next to me, reaching down and running his finger across the bruises he had left on my neck, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Was I too rough with you?” He asked sincerely as he placed his sheets over my body.

“No,” I answered, holding the material over my chest. Chanyeol cocked an eyebrow at me, looking down at my legs.

“Then sit up.” I did as I was told, but the pain between my legs was obvious and it turned simple movements into a fucking hassle.

“I’m just sore,” I admitted as I shrugged my shoulders. I knew he wanted to be sorry, but I could tell he felt accomplished knowing he fucked me so hard I couldn’t even walk right.

“So,” he began quietly, “we’re really not supposed to have girls in our rooms.” Too late. In all honesty, I could take the hint. He wanted me to leave. I didn’t know him at all, and we both got what we wanted, so it didn’t really matter to me.

“Okay, I can go-”

“I don’t want you to leave, though. Plus, it’d be really fucking douchey of me kick you out,” he stated as he handed me one of his t-shirts, a plain black one that would definitely be large on me. He flashed me a smile as he combed his fingers through his hair.

“Are you sure?” I asked. Chanyeol took the shirt he gave me and pulled it over my head.

“I’m positive,” he said with a sweet grin. He laid down next to me and beckoned me to join him. I smiled as I rested my head against his chest, his arm wrapping around my shoulder and his fingers delicately running through my hair. Chanyeol pulled the covers over us, the warmth from his body and the blankets totally engulfing me. I pulled out one of my arms and pointed at the gifts gathered by the coffee table.

“You must have a lot of fans. Just how famous is your band?” Chanyeol took my hand in his and brought it to his lips, softly kissing the back of it. He replied in a sleepy voice,

“We’ll just have to save that story for tomorrow morning.”

So this is from a customer view but the other day I was in a galaxy coffee shop located in another store and I was waiting patiently for the batista to finish something in the back but this lady comes up to the counter all huffy and my mom asks her what’s up. The woman went into a spiel about how she’s all upset that the girl put her drink on the counter but didn’t scream out her name (she had called it out but the woman didn’t listen). The girl came out to ask me what I wanted and the woman’s husband came over “what’s your name ect…” and she was really confused for a minute and politely asked why because she had just come back out from the backroom, unaware of an issue. The man, he’s at least in his 50’s, whips out his phone and pulls out the camera and sticks it in the girls face. Understandably, she moves to the back room, uncomfortable and kinda freaked. My mom encouraged them, and the girls Coworker ran to get a manager. After all this, even over my mom’s uninvited intrusion into blaming this girl, I let her know that i understood why she left and that i would feel the same way and I gave her an extra tip.

It really makes me think on when people say millennials are rude because… the older people tend to be impatient and angry over every little thing?

Paired up - Yoongi (suga)

Originally posted by holdmettightbts

Group: BTS
Member: Suga
Type: Smut
warnings: sexual content!

A/N: so i had this dirty dream about yoongi and i feel so blessed omg i decided to share it with you guys!! 


Group assignments are a pain in the ass. Everybody knows that and everybody hates them. However, you thought it would get a little more bearable now you’ve been paired up with the hot, mint haired guy in your class. You didn’t really know what he was like though, he never really said much and was mostly napping during class so you didn’t get the chance to get to know him very well. You thought he didn’t talk alot because he was shy and didn’t like to be in the spotlight, but boy were you wrong.

Keep reading

Reaching Out

Member: Ten // NCT U

Genre: Fluff

Words: 1.7k

Summary: She’d daydreamed about reaching out and touching him, but she never thought she’d actually do it. 

A/N: Thank you so much @jacksons-smile (aka my bESTIE) for making the moodboard for me! Ilysm for real :D 


She wanted to touch him.

Not like how most people would think: she just wanted to know what he felt like.

He always sat at the desk in front of her, and every day she daydreamed about reaching out and brushing him with her fingertips. She just wanted to slip her arms around his shoulders, and stroke his cheeks with her palms, and feel him. She knew, though, she would never actually do it.

Well, until that day.

It had been raining for the past week, and today was no different. Dim, gray light spilled through the window panes, and droplets tapped against the glass as if seeking shelter.

She had always loved the rain, but today she hardly paid any mind to the weather.

His hair was messy, like he’d run a hand through it one too many times, and it was slightly damp from the rain.

Oh, how she wanted to touch it. She wondered how soft it was, or how it felt when you ran your fingers through it. He was leaning back in his seat so far that all she had to do was raise her hand and -

Suddenly, she felt the sensation that she’d been imagining for countless weeks: her hands, touching him.

Her body had taken a mind of its own, and she didn’t even realize what she was doing until -

“Excuse me… Um - what are you doing?”

The voice belonged to someone she never thought would talk to her; someone she never dreamed would have a reason to.

Him.

His gaze, a blend of curiosity and confusion, was trained on her.

Her eyes widened in horror, and she tore her hand away from his hair with a flushed face.

“I- I- I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to touch your - I never meant to -” Her stammering was cut short by an easy smile curving up his lips.

“You can calm down. I don’t bite, you know.”

Ordinarily, she might’ve responded with a sarcastic jab, but this was Ten. She had harbored a secret crush on Ten for two years, ever since he walked into her school as a shy transfer student from Thailand, and he rendered her almost speechless.

“I- Well, you know… I just…”

He let out a chuckle, twisting in his seat a bit more. “You just wanted to know how soft my luscious hair really is?”

Yes.

“No,”

“You’ll have to excuse it, though.” he ignored her response. “It’s still wet from the rain, so it isn’t at its full softness potential.”

Glance downwards. “I… I really didn’t want to - um - touch it,”

“So why did you?” he rested his chin on his palm, cocking his head curiously.

Her face flushed at his straightforward question. “I wasn’t thinking… My hands just kind of - um - acted on their own,” she rubbed her neck self-consciously, avoiding his gaze.

“You know what they say about that,” Ten started, and she glanced up.

“No..?”

“That when your body acts on its own accord, it’s showing your true desires.”

“They… they say that?”

“Well, I say that.”

“Since… when?”

“Fine, you’re right. I admit: I don’t say that. But - how would you know?”

She’d been observing him from afar for ages, but it wasn’t like she could say that. Instead, she just lowered her head.

“What’s your name again?” he inquired. “You’re so quiet, I forgot someone sat behind me.

Was that a compliment or an insult? From what she knew about him, it probably wasn’t either.

So, she offered him a quick smile and shook her head. “It’s nothing,”

“Nice to meet you, Nothing. My name’s Ten,”

A small smile appeared on her face at this comment, and she was suddenly reminded of why she had a crush on him in the first place.

She had always been a quiet girl, sitting in back corners, talking to nobody. Romance wasn’t on her radar, either. She didn’t see the point in liking someone; it was only a distraction.

This had been her mindset until two years ago, when Ten had walked through the doorway and introduced himself as a new student. He was the cutest boy she’d ever seen with her own two eyes, and something in her stomach fluttered.

She had pushed it away for as long as she could, but after a couple months, it was a lost cause.

“So… your real name?” His voice dragged her out of her daze.

“Excuse me,” The teacher’s voice interrupted the two of them, and Ten turned swiftly.

“Yessir?”

“Do you believe your conversation more important than this lesson?”

There was a beat of hesitation before: “There’s a chance,”

The teacher bit his lip as giggles rippled through the room. “It’s a good thing I like you, Ten. You’d be getting a week of detention if I didn’t,”

Ten snickered, cracking a cheeky smile. “Thank you, Sir.”

The girl behind him let out an inaudible breath of relief and sunk a little further down in her chair.


She was one of those types. The types that loved wandering through libraries, winding in and out of the impossibly tall shelves, fingering the pages of countless books.

The people she found obnoxious never came in the library. On good days it was only her, all alone.

She loved the peace and muffled quiet. She could roam for hours, and not run into a single person, save for the sweet, elderly librarian.

“Found you,” A voice pierced the silence, out of place in her sanctuary.

She jumped, caught off-guard. “Ten,”

He grinned, stepping out from around the corner. “It is I, the savior of worlds.”

“What- what are you doing here?” She questioned. “You never come into the- the library,”

“I thought I’d make a little visit. I heard somewhere that the air in a library can raise your IQ a few points.” He offered a smile. “Don’t mind me. Continue on,”

Blinking uncertainly, she swallowed and looked back down at her book.

Though, with him standing so close by, casting glances in her direction every so often, it was virtually impossible to concentrate.

A minute or so of uncomfortable silence (for her, at least) passed, and he spoke again.

“I know your name,”

Her head shot up.

An amused look crossed his face at her expression. “Ah, um - Doyoung,” he explained.

She sighed. “Of course,”

“What are you reading?”

“Nothing,”

“Just like your name, right?”

Her eye twitched, and he shot her a cute grin.

“Do you not like me or something?”

“No, that’s not -”

“Or is it that you do like me?”

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“I’m kidding.” he laughed. “It was a joke. Calm down,”

She eyed him warily, before losing herself in her book again. When she looked up, he was nowhere in sight, and so she wandered further along the shelf.

At the far end of the row, she was distracted from her book once more.

Psst,”

She glanced up to see Ten, mere inches from her face.

She leaped backward, dropping the book and crashing into the bookshelf behind her. “What- what-”

He pursed his lips to keep from laughing and rounded the corner again, taking a few steps closer. “What?”

She sunk to the ground, eyes wide. “Why did you- Why did you do that?”

“You didn’t like it?” he cocked an eyebrow, squatting down in front of her. “You couldn’t have hated it that much,”

“What…? Why?”

“I mean, usually people like it when their crush gets that close.”

Her face instantly turned bright red. “I don’t kn-know what you mean,”

“I mean,” he said. “I know you like me.”

“I don’t like you,”

“Well, Doyoung says otherwise.”

“Doyoung… Doyoung was lying. He- he does that.”

“I don’t think he was lying,” Ten’s mouth curved up at the edges. “He swore at himself for a good five minutes afterward,”

She swallowed, pressing herself up against the shelf in an attempt to make herself smaller. “I don’t like you,”

“You’re lying,”

“I’m not,”

“You are,”

“I’m not,”

“I bet you’ve daydreamed about kissing me,”

Just as quickly as she’d lost her blush, it re-appeared. “I have not ever done that,”

“You have, haven’t you?” he smirked, resting his chin in his palm. “Cute.”

“I haven’t,” she mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

“I bet you wanna do it for real,”

“I really don’t!”

He plopped down in front of her. “Well, I really do,”

“Wait, what?”

He blinked as if he’d just stated the weather (which, of course, was rainy). “What?”

“You want to- you want to what?”

He scooted a little closer. “I said, I want to kiss you.”

“What… Why? You don’t even-”

“It’s been two years, for God’s sake. Just let me kiss you already,”

“What do you mean by ‘it’s been two years’? Did Doyoung tell you that’s how long I’ve liked you?”

“No,” he shook his head, eyes on hers. “That’s how long I’ve liked you.”

Her mouth fell open, and she was left stunned; speechless.

“So, please,” he started. “Can I kiss you now?”

She responded with a small nod of the head, her face burning, and her mind racing.

Trying not to laugh at her almost scared expression, he shifted onto his knees and reached out a hand. Wrapping it around the back of her neck, he pulled her up against him.

“You’re really red, you know that?” he murmured, smiling.

She blinked, embarrassed. “I can’t help it,”

“I know. I’m just that handsome, aren’t I?”

She let out a small huff, attempting to wriggle out of his grip, but he didn’t let her go. Instead, he pressed his lips to hers. She went still.

His hand slipped down to her cheek, and he smiled into the kiss whenever he felt the heat on her cheeks.

She didn’t have to try and hope she was doing it right, or think about how this was her first kiss. The only thing that she could think of was that she was kissing Ten, and he liked it.

Well, so did she.


The sun had been shining for the past week, and today was no different. Bright, golden light spilled through the window panes, filling the room with a warm glow.

She’d never particularly like sunny periods, but today she hardly paid any mind to the weather.

His hair was messy, like he’d run a hand through it one too many times, and the sunlight made it appear invitingly soft.

Ten leaned back in his chair, resting his head on her desk and sending her an upside-down smile. “You want to touch it, don’t you?”

She bit her lip, trying not to smile. “A little,”

“Don’t lie,”

“Alright,” she sighed. “A lot,”

finnjediknight  asked:

I saw a finnrey fanar that I really liked but it also makes me uncomfortable because I realize even more than before just how much Star Wars as appropriated Asian, especially Japanese, culture. Like the films were heavily influenced by the films of Akira Kurosawa. Even the film techniques were inspired by them. And Rey was almost name Kira as a tribute to him. It makes me uncomfortable that these films use Asian culture without having almost any Asian people. (Cont.)

I wish Rey had been Japanese. It would have made it easier. Or at the very least why couldn’t Jessica Henwick have been Rey. I know she’s Singaporean and not Japanese, but she would have been just as good as Daisy Ridley. Is it wrong for a white person to be upset by this. I’m a big Star Wars fan, but I also like Kurosawa’s movies and I just don’t feel like it’s right to not have Asian people in Star Wars when there’s so much Asian appropriation.

I agree 100%. 

Star Wars is literally a white utopian fantasy, where white people wear Asian names, Asian clothing, Asian culture, Asian theology, and Asian martial arts and simultaneously claim it as their own “creative genius”. It is downright despicable.

The Jedi are so obviously inspired by Buddhist monks. The whole “no attachment” and “give yourself over to the Force” thing is so obvious. And don’t get me started on their clothing, which is basically samurai clothing. Even their Jedi fighting ‘katas’ are based on Asian martial arts. But have you EVER seen an Asian Jedi? Ever? There are more fucking aliens who are Jedis than a non-white, let alone Asian human. Chirrut Imwe (Donnie Yen) is the first Asian martial arts fighter I’ve ever seen in any Star Wars-affiliated film (the bar is so low, holy fuck) and he doesn’t even have the Force. Oh no, but some white girl with decent public speaking skills has the Force. Of course she does. 

Padme Amidala. Holy-fucking-shit. See, I can sort of give Lucas a pass for being appropriative in the 1970s, but the prequels have gone too far. Padme’s dresses, headwear, down to her facial makeup are all plagiarised from traditional Mongolian wear. If I never see another “Padme’s glorious Nabooan fashion uwu” photo/gifset again it will be too soon. And her name–Padme? A complete bastardization of the South Asian traditional name of Padma. They even have Sanskriti vocals during her funeral scene, as if it’s not enough of a blow. All of this, yet they won’t have a South Asian or a Mongolian actress play her: instead, they’ll have a white/white-passing woman parade around in yellow/brownface. I honestly don’t care if “she had to be white, Luke & Leia are white!!11!” because the black queen and white king in Cinderella had a Filipino son and Anakin is Force Jesus.

I’ve never heard of Akira Kurosawa before, and now I’ll definitely check him out! I’m glad they didn’t give another white girl an Asian name. Rey could have had so much potential. If Rey had been Japanese, Black, or South Asian or literally anything but white, I would’ve lauded TFA as the best film of all time. 

I love Star Wars despite my vehement criticism, but I feel like the only thing left for me in this fandom are all the men of colour. They won’t have a woman of colour anytime soon (I think I’ll probably die before they ever have a dark-skinned woc as lead) and they refuse to represent us while stealing from us. I’m glad you care, even as a white person. If more white people cared, then this wouldn’t happen.

anonymous asked:

Can you write about Sara way more in your fics? She's so fucking hot and like??? I need more???

So I actually wrote this for a prompt my girlfriend gave me months ago (whoopsadasie it took me so long to get to), and since I’m in a Sara mood (and apparently yall are too), here, have some SmoakingCanary.

This was not quite the way Felicity had anticipated her Chanukah going.

Stuck in the airport because her flight home to Vegas was delayed? That wasn’t the surprising part. That was the typical part.

No, the part that was surprising was that, sitting in the terminal next to her, legs spread wide, body apparently relaxed but eyes intensely alert, was Sara Lance.

“I’m sorry,” Felicity turned and told her for what Sara counted as the sixteenth time in the hour since the delay had been announced. And that wasn’t even accounting for all the times that Felicity had opened her mouth, caught Sara’s sidelong glance, and closed it again without saying anything.

“Ollie wanted to make sure you get on your plane safe,” Sara had explained with a small smirk for the first four times. “It’s not your fault it’s delayed.”

Now, Sara just looked at her, saw the genuine concern in her eyes as the announcement went up that the flight was delayed for yet another hour.

“Come on,” Sara determined as the would-be passengers around them started to groan and disperse angrily. She rose faster than Felicity could track, and she held her hand out to her, waggling her fingers.

Felicity accepted her hand with wide, tentative eyes and tried to ignore the way Sara’s touch made her pulse race. Sara didn’t make that any easier when she gave Felicity a lopsided grin and, in one fluid motion, hoisted Felicity’s carry on over her shoulder and took her rolling suitcase into her hand briefcase-style.

“Where are we going?”

“Only place to go this time of night in a small town airport like this: the bar.”


“Whatever’s on tap for me, and uh – for the lady?”

The bottom threatened to drop out of Felicity’s stomach at the way Sara turned to her, the way her lips quirked into a subtle grin, the way she took care to make sure neither of Felicity’s bags touched the ground, the way she lifted them with almost exaggerated ease. The way her eyes burned with chivalry and with mild, but deeply affectionate, suggestion.

The salmon ladder came unbidden to Felicity’s mind.

The gentleness of Sara’s utterly lethal hands on her bare skin when she stitched her up.

She wondered, not for the first time – and hated herself for wondering – how Sara learned to stitch flesh together.

She realized with a slight jolt that Sara’s sharp, soft eyes were on her, and so were the haggard-looking bartender’s.

“Oh. For me. To drink. Because you said the lady and I was looking around for a dame or a – you’re not interested in my – tequila. A shot of tequila.” She dared to glance at Sara’s kind but amused eyes.

“Double. A double shot. Of tequila. Not arrows or bullets or – “

“Felicity,” Sara interrupted softly, no trace of annoyance in her rich voice, but a hint of something that Felicity thought might be warning.

That the bartender might start to ask questions if she kept rambling like that.

That Sara might kiss her if she kept rambling like that.

She had no idea where that thought came from. None at all.

She kicked back the shot almost the moment the bartender set it in front of her.

“Where’s the fire?” Sara wondered aloud as she nodded at the bartender, gestured that he should keep the change, and sipped at her beer.

“I’m seeing my mother soon. Well, not soon, at the rate this flight’s getting delayed. But you know. Never can be too prepared.”

Sara watched her fiddle with her empty shot glass thoughtfully.

“Tough when parents don’t quite know how to love their kids.”

Felicity’s eyes flew wide and she reached out as though to touch Sara’s arm, but stopped frustratingly short.

“I’m sorry, Sara, I didn’t – I shouldn’t be whining to you of all people about family issues – “

Sara’s rueful chuckle cut her off. “Well, who else would you talk to? Oliver’s father tasked him with returning from hell to save his city, his mother and sister mean everything to him but don’t know who he is; John’s still so haunted by his brother’s death he can barely think about anything else. I’d say I’m as good a bet as you’ve got. So… not so easy with your mom?”

Felicity blinked, feeling mildly like she had when Oliver, Dig, and Sara had been standing around shirtless – why are you focusing on the shirtless part, don’t think about the shirtless part, who thinks about the shirtless part or how far down the contours of her abs go? – comparing battle scars.

You’re cute.

“It’s nothing worth complaining about.” Her stomach growled of its own accord and she straightened. “Hey. You know what I want?”

Sara’s lips twitched again and Felicity found herself wondering if Sara thought of her as a friend or as entertainment. The warmth in her eyes made a forceful argument for the former.

“You think any of the restaurants are open this late here?”

“No,” the bartender grunted before Sara got the chance. “You want more liquor, I’m your guy. You want food? Logic of the joint seems to be you should’ve thought about that earlier.”

Sara arched an eyebrow at him and set her unfinished beer back on the bar. “Come on,” she beckoned Felicity, something gleaming in her eyes that told her not to ask – not yet – where they were going.

She just gulped as Sara effortlessly gathered her bags again, laughing softly, more to herself than anything else, when Felicity reached to try and help.

Felicity blinked and opened and closed her mouth rapidly, helpless to do anything but follow Sara.

“So… where are we going?” she asked when she caught up, and she knew – because she knew Sara, she knew Oliver, and hell, she knew John – that Sara was casing the place.

Even more than she did everywhere she went, automatically.

Sara smirked and tilted her head toward Felicity but kept her eyes sweeping around the mostly empty airport. “You’re hungry.”

Felicity flushed. “I’m fine. I’m not a kid, I can wait – “

“Hunger isn’t childish. It hurts,” Sara said softly, and Felicity wondered, for the thousandth time, how in the hell this woman could still smile. Could still be soft. Could still stand. Could still breathe.

“Sara, I’m okay,” she tried again in a gentle voice, putting her hand softly on Sara’s forearm. They both looked down at the place their skin touched, and they both lost themselves for a moment in a universe of what ifs.

Sara found her way out first, that sparkle that so awed Felicity sparking back into her eyes.

“It’s not problem,” she told her, jerking her head toward the locked-up snack bar behind them.

Almost before Felicity could react, Sara was on her knees, making quick work of the lock with the penknife in her boot. Without hesitation and without breaking rhythm, she scoped out three of Felicity’s favorite protein bars and a couple of hummus-cracker packets she had such a weakness for.

She didn’t ask how Sara knew, because she knew how much Sara had been trained to observe, to retain. To store in her mind in case survival needed her to remember one day.

Suddenly, Sara straightened with a lightening speed that almost made Felicity gasp.

Almost.

Because suddenly, Sara’s soft lips were on hers.

She almost squeaked and she definitely swooned, but Sara’s hands – free, now, so she must have stashed the snacks somewhere – were firm and strong yet so, so small on Felicity’s back, in her hair. Felicity wasn’t sure what or why, but she was abundantly sure how Sara’s lips were making her feel, and she sighed into the kiss, opening her mouth for Sara’s gentle tongue, and Sara did something Felicity had never dreamed she could make someone as unshakeable as Sara do: Sara moaned softly and – unless Felicity was completely imagining things, which to be honest seemed fairly possible at the moment – nearly swooned.

But then Felicity was gasping for breath – gasping into empty, empty air, not Sara’s warm mouth – and her entire body keened with the loss.

It took her a few long moments to realize that Sara was speaking.

“I’m sorry, Felicity, I… that’s not how I normally like to kick things off with such a beautiful woman, but uh…” She jerked her head back toward an airport security guard who must have just passed behind them. “Ollie told me to take care of you, and getting caught and getting above the radar by stealing very valuable airport snacks wouldn’t have qualified… Kissing tends to be a good way to make people avert their eyes, or at least pay attention to different things… I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just wanted to protect you without having to get into an altercation. I am so sorry.”

Felicity blinked rapidly and fought not to adjust her glasses, not to grab Sara’s face and pull her back in for another round.

“Uncomf – un – no, why would you have made me – I’m single, you’re single, girls can be single together, or not single together, or in your case, not that you even liked it – “

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it, Felicity – “

“No, it’s okay, you were just doing your job. Not that I’m your job. Or that you were doing me. Just that you were – “

“Felicity.”

Sara’s eyes were warm and her eyes flickered down to Felicity’s lips slowly, adoringly, leaving her with no doubt that no. No, Sara hadn’t just been doing her job. Or at least, it hadn’t been an unpleasant part of doing her job.

But she might very well like to do Felicity, if she wanted.

“Yeah.” She was breathless and she was hopeful and she was suddenly very, very glad her flight had been postponed.

“You’re still cute.”