so badly done but i love you so... it counts right

how to stick your plans

by a horrible procrastinator

scheduling:

  • keep things realistic. you may think you can read 200 pages of jane eyre in one night, and honestly, you could…but you won’t unless that essay that’s 30% of your grade is due, you know, tomorrow.
    • you know your habits better than anyone. try to work around what you know you’re going to do. can you read about 25 pages without getting totally bored/sidetracked? well, make yourself do that. it’s only 25 pages, right?
  • try to accomplish one thing every day. don’t ever let your day slip away from you without doing anything. even if that “one accomplishment” is making a stupid text post on tumblr or revising your notes or washing your sheets…just be productive!
    • this is especially important for those of you with mental illness! having a “zero day” can really plummet your mood or set you in an unproductive rut.
    • if you really feel like you need a day to just chill out, napping can count as your accomplishment
  • don’t push studying off! you’ve probably heard this one a million times, but seriously. don’t. you’re not going to retain 10 weeks worth of information with one study session…okay, maybe you can, but do you really want to?
    • the best, low-effort way of remembering information is to, at first, review it often. right after you learn the material, review it a couple times during the week. maybe re-write your notes that weekend. then, the next week, visit one or two times, just glazing over parts you don’t really remember well. then, maybe once every two weeks, etc…by the time you get to finals, you’ll be familiar with all the information! trust me, it works.
  • organize your to-do’s. personally, i make a huge to-do list for the entire week. then, i delegate different ‘levels’ of urgency to it (see below.) you can do this however you want, but i do it this way to help me visualize how lazy i can be and not pay for it…
    • i tend to organize it by these ‘categories’ / ‘urgent levels’
      • is there a quiz on the material due soon
      • how likely is there to be a pop quiz
      • what’s my grade in the class like / how badly do i need that ‘a’
      • does the homework/assignment need to be turned in
      • etc

actually doing it:

  • studyspo helps. okay, i know this is kind of obvious considering i’m a studyblr, but… you see that notebook you just bought? isn’t it fucking adorable? don’t you want to make some sweet, sweet note-love to it? you know you do.
    • don’t spend too much time setting up your work space or browsing tumblr. seriously. you know when you’re overstepping.
  • have some nice playlists. preferably with music you already know! if you don’t know the song already, chances are it’s just going to become a distraction.
    • 8tracks is a great site for this! you can make your own mixes or take a listen to one of the many, many study / chill playlists available. again, take a listen to the track on your way to class or whatever before actually trying to study with it on.
    • instrumentals + classical + video game music are the standard
  • get organized. messy = stressy. seriously. organize your desk, organize your notes. even if it’s not really your style, at least try to keep things ‘in your personal order.’ try to pretend you have your shit together. you will be so much more productive & confident if you feel in control of your situation.
    • if you’re a perfectionist, you may want to disregard this. really. you don’t want to put ‘tidiness’ above productivity.
    • taking pictures of your awesome, super-nice work space is awesome motivation. give that illusion of productivity. become tumblr famous.
    • if you can afford it, matching stationary and cute shit like that is super awesome feeling. it makes studying aesthetically satisfying.
  • take care of yourself. brush your teeth, put on that nice-smelling lotion, drink water. eating healthy foods, getting some exercise, all that good shit people tell you to do…it really is important. it’s kind of hard to focus or remain motivated if you’re miserably bloated & haven’t showered in 3 days.
    • especially for my neurod or mentally ill followers!

i fucked up

  • repeat after me: IT’S OKAY. IT’S OKAY. we all fuck up. you’re allowed to fuck up. sometimes assignments don’t get done, sometimes we don’t do as well on tests as we’d like. it’s okay. you’re okay.
  • recovery. alright, so, now that we’ve accepted that we’re human beans who sometimes grow upside-down…
    • cuddle in a blanket, and write down what you think you did wrong. did you not study enough? do you need to go to your professors office hours? write down your ideas.
    • let your failure motivate you! you hit your lowest point, alright? now you can focus on doing better, even if it’s just a few points difference.
    • you can do some things wrong. you don’t need to get an A every single time. did you understand 50% of the material? well, that’s halfway there!
    • you’re not going to be perfect at everything. we all have growing pains.

well, that’s all i have to say. keep growing towards the sun, kids.

The Guest House

Description: Yoongi the hostel owner slowly develops a rapport with a girl and her friends that keep visiting.  Maybe a bit of a flirtatious one.  Maybe even a little crush.  One night he gets protective on a date gone bad and it leads to smut.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Smut (M)

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: So, basically, this is based off an experience I had last week. Not the smut part (ughhhhh), but the whole hostel owner coming to save the day when this dude just wouldn’t get the hint and leave. I relayed the experience to @ellieljade , because I needed her to die with me, and we both decided it should be used for smut fuel. Like grown adults. 

Keep reading

Mr. Min - Chapter 06

Description:  Your CEO caught your attention the first day you started your new job and it seems the attraction is mutual.  Too bad he’s only interested in a relationship that benefits him.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: Angst and Smut

Word Count: 26,321 

A/N: I’m so sorry.  I don’t think I’m capable of doing short chapters anymore.  Feel free to read this on AO3 instead if your app messes up.  

And a huge round of applause to the always lovely, @avveh, for beta-ing this behemoth.  I’m so sorry to put you through that lol.

Playlist - Prologue - Ch 01 - Ch 02 - Ch 03 - Ch 04 - Ch 05 - Ch 06

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Expectant - Request

Requested by anon:  could you do a Reader x Sherlock where she finds out she’s expecting and Sherlock has no idea how to react for awhile? Thank you :-)
Also, another anon requested for a fluffy one with Sherlock so…

Summary: (Y/N) is acting strange, and Sherlock notices. She ends up confessing the truth and… He struggles to find the words.

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Warnings: Bit of angst (not really) because of Sherlock’s reaction. Also, fluffy.

Word count: 2,807

A/N: My Sherlock feels are rising like the fenix rises from the ashes, THANKS! This is fluffy and cheesy and I love it, hope you do too. Remember feedback is highly appreciated.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by xthismeanswar

London had never been quieter. Not a single criminal dared to show up in the past week – or at least not one Sherlock cared about.

With his fiddle in hand and a melody on his head, Sherlock played for hours and hours throughout the morning. His feet with move along the music as he followed his girlfriend around the flat, making sure to keep his eyes on her at every moment.

(Y/N) was tiding it up a little since neither Sherlock nor John would do it.

“You know you don’t have to do that.” Sherlock spoke as he waltzed his way closer to her.

“I know, I just… Need to kill time, I guess.” Sherlock tilted his head.

“Anxiety?” She shook her head.

“Maybe I’m just bored.” Sherlock smiled warmly at her.

“I knew I wasn’t the only one getting bored here.” He said.

“Bored? You?” (Y/N) let out a fake laugh, “As far as I can tell you’re having a blast with your instrument.”

Sherlock didn’t reply with words but rather changing the tune to a faster one.

“Show off.” She hissed jokingly and moved to his room, where she picked up the dirty clothes and dusted the furniture.

Sherlock couldn’t help but to notice something strange in her. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it because it was such a slight change in her – and a good kind of change – that deducing it would take him hours. And that’s why he was following her.

She was resplendent yet she looked tired. “Why are you tired?”

(Y/N) looked up at him; she had been dragged out of her thoughts. “Sorry?”

“Why are you tired?” Sherlock repeated, “Last night we did… We did sleep late but we always do.”

“Maybe it’s all this cleaning.” (Y/N) suggested.

“You’ve followed me on cases that could get anyone tired after five minutes without even flinching, it’s not the cleaning.” Sherlock observed. He stopped playing and stood still, following her every move.

“Maybe I’m getting old.” Sherlock lifted an eyebrow.

“Impossible.” He stated, “If you were getting old I would be too and I’m feeling great.”

“We are getting old.” She emphasized, “With each second that passes.”

Sherlock sighed heavily and continued to play. (Y/N) excused herself and left to the bathroom. It was the fifth time she went and it wasn’t even close to mid-day.

Sherlock stopped playing once again and walked back to the living room where John was sitting and reading a newspaper.

“There’s something off about her.” Sherlock whispered without even looking at his friend but rather keeping his ice blue eyes glued to the bathroom door.

Watson, who knew exactly what was going on, shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and changed the page. He had been pretending to read the whole morning, for he knew it would be impossible for him not to react.

“You’ve read this newspaper three times already.” Sherlock observed.

“I like to re-read… Make sure everything sticks to my mind.” John replied.

“Guess that’s a method that works for common minds.” John couldn’t help but to roll his eyes, “But honestly, John, can’t you see? There’s something off about her.”

“She’s your girlfriend, Sherlock, not mine.” John beamed.

“She’s your friend, and you’re a doctor.” John sighed and scratched the corner of his eyes.

“She’s not sick.”

“How can you tell?” John inquired, “Did you check her body temperature? Her blood pressure? Her…”

“She’s fine!” John assured. Sherlock, of course, didn’t buy it and waited patiently for her to get out.

Keep reading

Suga Daddy: Part 9

Suga Daddy: Part 9 (m)

Word count: 8.2k

Genre/Warnings: angst, smut, dom!Yoongi, dirty talk, role-play (I’m sorry Yugyeom)

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Summary: It’s finally time for your showcase but Yoongi is nowhere to be found.

I know some of you have been reading this since the beginning and that’s crazy to me. Thank you so much for the constant support. I love you guys and Yoongi so yeah, onto the next chapter :) 

 Parts: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

This week had been nonstop practice for you. You spent so much time at school or in your dance studio. The dance showcase was getting closer and closer but you were damn well ready. Plus like you had said, Yoongi was now at your place, at night like nothing had happened. He would come to your home, spend wonderful passionate nights with you, play with the dog and be gone before you woke up the next morning.

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Professor Turned Call Boy | Taeyong Smut

Can I have a call boy smut with Taeyong? He’s your professor in Uni and you’re stressed so you want someone to help with that 😏 You call and ask for the one under the name “Taeyong” not thinking it would be him despite the same name? You’re both surprised, but he found you a sexy student so he does so anyways (really rough, and daddy kink?) Please and thank you 😊😊


Character: Taeyong (NCT) / gender neutral reader (*ignore the fem in the gif, I swear this is gn*)
Word Count: 2989

Warning: well, smut of course. bad language, slight name calling, no condom, creampie, rough daddy kink, teacher/student kink, call boy?? can’t think of anything else :) enjoy!

Keep reading

After Party | NSFW

Summary: After Tom’s win at the award show, you decide to surprise him with some fun in the hotel room.

Characters: Reader x Tom Holland

Warnings: Smut, cursing, NSFW

Word Count: 1,544

A/N: NSFW! Only read if you’re 18+! This is my first time writing something like this, so be nice. I’m also not experienced at all, so please no hard critics or anything. I am terrified to post this in the first place. Just no negative words, please.


You were excited for your boyfriend, Tom, who just won the BAFTA Rising Star award. You recalled the long days of just sitting at a computer for a few hours to vote for him over and over. He wanted this award so badly. You couldn’t help but smile as he accepted his award on stage. You looked over to your right and saw his mom beaming with joy as she admired her son from afar.

You knew that at the end of the night there was going to be a lot of press interviews and the after party. However, after parties weren’t your thing and you knew that Tom’s mom and Harrison would be there to watch out for him as he would drink the night away. When Tom was done with the press interviews, he returned to his seat next to you with his award. You immediately kissed him on his lips and congratulated him on his win. He passed the award to you and you looked at it with his name freshly engraved at the bottom.

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Teasing, Showers, & Man Buns

A/N: Any of my friends on here that know me and see me IRL, please just keep scrolling. Don’t @ me… This is my first time writing smut, so I apologize in advance for whatever the hell this is. I’d like to thank The Litty Titty Committee™ for pushing me to bring this little idea to life. Hope you enjoy.

Harry’s been back home from tour for three days now, and he’s been nothing but a tease. It’s been over six months since he’s touched you. You would’ve thought he’d have jumped you as soon as he got off the plane, but no, his smug ass thinks it’s a great idea to just taunt you until you cave first.

Keep reading

Deadly Sins- Lust & Desperation

Relationship: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary:Peter takes the Reader in the shower after a training session ;)

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault from Lust & Wrath.. I know people handle sexual assault differently so just know this is how the Reader handled it and she’s just one tough bitch not gonna let no man destroy her life when she has an awesome man AKA PETER. Swearing cause Tom swears IRL and I do too, SEX BABYYY LETS GET HOT AND… STEAMYYYY

Word Count: 3,000+

A/N: I WILL BE ADDING EMOTIONS TO THESE FICS. THESE EMOTIONS/FEELINGS ARE WHAT THE READERS OR CHARACTERS EXPERIENCE. JUST WANT TO THROW THAT OUT THERE :,) Pls don’t get mad at me /.\ Ps. go check out my friend’s blog @daddytom2013 give her some love for me (,:

P.S: I DON’T WRITE SMUT ABOUT 15 Y/O PETER. LEMME CLARIFY: HE WAS GRADUATING HIGHSCHOOL WHEN ENVY WAS PUT OUT. I WANT TO CLARIFY BECAUSE I WILL NEVER WRITE ABOUT A 15 Y/O HAVING SEX IN MY SMUTS. IT’S NOT RIGHT. IN MY OPINION. JUST KNOW IN MY UNIVERSE HE IS IN HIS 20′S AT THIS POINT. THANK YOU, THAT IS ALL :,)

Deadly Sins- Envy & Wrath , Deadly Sins-Lust & Wrath

[Peter’s POV]

Peter you have training with Steve and Sam in ten minutes, you need to hurry to the training room” Karen’s voice fills the air of your bedroom. Crap I’m running late, I just got back from our spot with fresh flowers for the kitchen table. I picked a rose especially for my girl.

“I will be there shortly Karen, thank you” I reply fixing my black joggers on my waist. Pulling my shirt on followed by my hat putting it on backwards. I wore hats that way to keep my curls out of my face while I worked out. Looking over at our bed my girl laid there like she has for the past three months. Crying herself to sleep, having night terrors and crying during the day. The only time she would get up to move was to shower,eat or work in her lab. Then whenever she was done she would go right back to bed without a word.

“Angel, I won’t be back for a few hours then I’ll come back after, are you going to be okay?” I ask kneeling near the bed. I rub her cheek with my thumb. A tear falls down her cheek making my hand wet. Quickly I wipe away the others that fall giving her forehead a quick kiss. She sniffles causing a pain to happen in my chest. I hate seeing her like this for so long. No one can tell her what to do because they didn’t experience what she did that awful night.

“You don’t have to pity me Peter, it’s been three months since that night” she whispers pulling the blankets closer to her chest. Shock plastered on my facial features. This was the first time she spoke to me since then. Her voice sounded like music to my ears.

“Pity you? You’re my girlfriend, the love of my life.. you got assaulted and I saw it with my own eyes..” my voice rising a bit. How could she think you pity her? You love her more than life itself. She is what I think about when I wake up and before I go to bed.

“I haven’t let you sleep with me since then.. you’re probably tired of me now, I’m used” her voice breaks as she turns her back to you. A sob comes from her shaking covered body. Wanting so badly to pull her into your chest but she doesn’t let me do that much anymore without getting stiff or flinching. It’s been so hard when she distanced herself from me.

“You’re everything to me Angel.. I wish you would let me show how much of a rare gem you are, even if not I would wait as long as I needed to” Placing one more kiss to the back of her head I place a rose on the nightstand beside our bed. Heading out of the room I tell Karen to play some Halsey for her while I’m away. Karen wishes me luck with training before playing the playlist.

-

“Peter”

“Peter focus!” my eyes snap to the voice seeing Steve and Sam looking at me. Steve looked concerned and Sam was waving his hands around. Thankfully Tony wasn’t here or he would make the training hell.

“I-I’m okay guys sorry, what’s next?” I ask re wrapping my hands,the wrap was starting to get loose. Steve and Sam look at each other almost having a silent conversation but with their eyes.Sam walks over placing a hand on my shoulder pausing before he speaks.

“I know this is still a tough subject but I want you to punch this bag as many times you can.. Imagine it was that man” I grit my teeth nodding at his request. He pats my back urging me to start. I charge at the bag jabbing it hard imagining the man’s face. Minutes go by as I continue to hit the punching bag. My breathing getting heavy as I kept going. The only thing that kept me going was my girl, my sweet sweet angel.

“C’mon Peter harder c’mon man you got this” Sam cheers next to Steve. You could feel Steve’s stare boring into your skin only making you push harder. Fists slamming into the bag at a faster pace,feeling every muscle engaging to it’s full capacity. Grunts falling past my lips feeling the pain spread through my arms.

Letting out a scream I punch it so hard it snaps off the chain flying towards the wall. Colliding into the wall it hits the floor with a thud. My chest heaving up and down as I collapse to the ground. A feeling grows in my chest, it was regret. If only I had stayed with her maybe she wouldn’t of have been targeted. If only I was quicker maybe I could have stopped him from raping her. All the what ifs filled my mind as I tried controlling my breathing.

“Let me get another bag, I’ll be back” Steve says heading to the spare room. Sam walks over sitting down next to me. Him and Bucky normally picked on you but there were moments where he felt like an older brother. Tony could barely talk to you because he was still upset the situation happened over the men wanting supplies from his corporation. He feels more to blame than how I feel of not getting there in time.

“Peter, man you know I didn’t mean to make you upset… we just need you working to your fullest potential. This is a hard time for you,Tony and your angel.. how’s she doing ?” He asks rubbing my back a sympathetic look on his face.

“Not good.. She told me today she thought I’m tired of her just because we haven’t had sex since the incident.. She feels used because of that fucking bastard.. Today was the first time she talked to me since then” my hands running through my hair. I hated to cry but it felt so good as the tears fell. Sam patted my back as the tears fell onto the matted flooring.

“You are her world Peter, it’s natural for a woman to feel like that.. She’s yours and she felt like someone took that part of her away and that you probably don’t want a woman who was taken that way.. You just need to show her that even after the months of silence you’re still her one and only.” He gives me a smile lifting his goggles to his forehead. Helping me up from the ground I pull him into a hug.

“T-thank you Sam” I whisper as he squeezes me tightly before letting go. Steve comes back in carrying two punching bags. Letting them down with a thud he preps a new chain for the new bag.

“Now that we have you where we want you, let’s do more boxing then take it into combat practice mode, cool?” He grins in your direction.

“If I get to kick your ass then hell yeah” Laughing as I punch my right hand into my left palm.

“There’s the Parker I know” Steve smiles making Sam chuckle.

-

[Reader’s POV]

“Babe I’m back” you hear Peter’s voice fill your apartment. You were currently looking at yourself in the mirror. The redness in your cheeks from crying, you looked like a damn mess. Holding your rose that Peter gave you earlier in your shaking hands.

You couldn’t even respond like you used to. Your body felt numb and your voice non existent.

“Angel.. Please look at me” his voice begs as his finger tilts your chin in his direction.Opening your eyes you looked at Peter whose eyes looked pained. His normally happy self seemed so melancholy.

“Babygirl, please say something.. It felt so good to hear the sound of your voice today.. I love the sound of it and you talking to me..” His arms slowly wrapping around your body. They pulled you close to him,feeling his warmth engulfing you. You’ve missed this. Yet you felt better by yourself the past three months.

“I-I’m sorry Peter.. You’ve been trying to talk to me and I hate that I couldn’t talk to you I just feel like my whole body is numb.. I’ve m-missed you so much and I loved all the flowers you gave me everyday” my voice feeling like it was jumbled as tears started forming. His lips pressed against your head. The feeling so comforting and soothing. It was hard the few months you distanced yourself from him.

“I missed you more Angel, I can’t believe you thought I would leave you after that… you aren’t used cause you’re my girl no matter what happens.” He places his hands on your cheeks. The warmth of his hands making you close your eyes. Tilting your head into his palms sighing, you felt safe.

“Promise me you’ll never leave me” I whisper holding onto him tighter. I could feel his muscles through his shirt. The definition of his muscles was clear as your hands slid down his back.

“I will never leave you,like I said you’re everything to me” Lips press against yours, the feeling hitting you like a bag of bricks. You needed him more than you thought. The intense feeling waking up your whole body. Pulling his shirt as he deepens the kiss. It wasn’t forceful but it was full of love. The kiss reminding you that Peter is there for you through thick and thin. Even after these months went by he never changed.

“God you need a shower” you laugh as your nose scrunches up. You trying to pull away only to be pulled back to his body.

“Well after you hugging me now you do too, c’mon let’s save water” He winks pulling you towards the master bathroom. It felt so good to have his hand in mine. Following behind him he heads to the touch screen next to the shower.

 Peter touches the buttons to get the temperature and water pressure right. Lifting his shirt off slowly he throws it to the floor. My eyes looking at the muscles move when he made movements. The way his joggers hung dangerously low on his hips. Looking at the V muscle showing making me want to kiss my way down. The sight made me want to do so many things. He is like a sexual piece of art that you can look at.

“C’mon angel let’s get you undressed” his hands find your waist lifting his shirt you had on. Peter tossed your shirt into a pile. You weren’t wearing a bra so your breasts were exposed. Feeling his lips ghost over your skin. Placing kisses slowly down your body.  He unties the string on your shorts slipping them down along with your panties. Kisses placed on your hips before he slowly stood back up.

“Peter, p-please” I gasp out at the feeling of his lips kissing up to the shell of your ear. You were desperate with need. Your arms snaked around his neck,hands getting lost in his curls. He pulled down his joggers stepping out of them. His lips still sucking and biting the skin of your neck.

“I’ve missed you so much” Peter’s voice sounded so pained,you hated that you caused him pain.He swiftly lifts you up heading towards the walk in shower. Music still playing in the background as he carried you in. Your eyes were taking in his features, you haven’t looked at him like this in what seemed like forever. The intimate eye contact made your heart flutter.

“I-I’m sorry P-”

“You have nothing to be sorry about Angel..” Your back is pressed against the tile wall. He sets you down so you’re standing in front of him.  Peter’s lips left a trail of hot kisses from your neck down between your breasts. Your hand going to his curls trying to hold onto something else besides the wall. The look in his eyes as he made his way down made your heart pound harder. How he was kissing your skin seemed like he was trying to kiss away all the pain you had for that span of time.

His fingers ghosting their way down from your breasts. Fingertips sliding down your skin to your hips. The pads of his thumbs rubbed soothing circles on your hips making you twitch under his touch. Lifting your left leg he places it over his shoulder. Light kisses being placed from the top of your inner thigh slowly going down.

His teeth nip at your skin causing a moan to come out. You loved it when he was like this but it was also torture waiting in anticipation. His hands gripped your thigh tighter as he got closer to your core. Peter’s right hand kept your hips still so you wouldn’t move. Your legs felt wobbly but he kept you standing. His tongue licks your core slowly while still looking up at you. A whimper comes out as he flicks his tongue on your clit.

Hands tighten in his hair as he keeps eye contact with you. The steam in the shower making it slightly harder to breathe. Your hips moving as you grinded against his tongue. He slowly inserts a finger in pumping slowly in and out of you. Another followed shortly after making you moan his name out repeatedly. His fingers curling inside sent a wave of pleasure washing over you. Peter hit-s your g-spot making your fingers grip his curls more.

“P-lease… make love to me Peter. I c-can’t wait anymore” you gasp out with tears in your eyes. He gives one last kiss to your clit withdrawing his fingers from you. Standing he looks down at you eyes dark with arousal.

The water hitting Peter made his curls drip with water. Watching as droplets slide down his fit body made you bite your lip.He lets your left leg down. Your right leg held now in the crook of his left arm. He takes his cock rubbing it up and down your slit slowly. The action making you pant even more in the heated shower.

Looking down you watch as his cock slides into you. A groan slips out of Peter’s lips as he enters you. Your right hand gripping his shoulder from the pleasure that sparked inside you. His right hand cups your cheek gently as his thrusts go deep and slow.

“Fuck.. K-keep your eyes on me Angel..” your eyes fluttered open, his gaze trapping yours. Moans slip out as your back hits the wall a bit the pain and pleasure starting to mix together.

“Pe-Peter” I whimper as his thrusts start getting faster. Grunts escaped his lips as his pelvis smacked against yours. The feeling of him pumping in and out of you felt so good after so long of not having anything.

“God you feel so good,you’re my girl,my one and only” he whispers resting his right forearm against the wall. My hand slides down from his hair and goes down to stay at his chest.  I could feel his heartbeat against my palm.

“Please know I will never abandon you, I’m here for you through thick and thin.. Whatever comes our way we can get through it together” Peter presses kisses on your jaw heading down to your bruised neck.

“I-I love you Peter” I gasp out when I feel his thumb rubbing fast circles against my clit. Your thighs start to shake as pleasure fills your entire body. Puffs of air escaped you as you could feel the edge coming quickly.

“I love you more Angel, m-more than you can imagine” he groans as his thrusts start become sloppier.His hands grasp your hips pulling you against him the same time he thrusts causing himself to go deeper. The sound of both of your moans filled the bathroom air echoing off the tile walls. Looking to the side the whole master bathroom was filled with steam from the hot water that pelted against both of your bodies.

“I’m gonna c-cum” I moan tilting my head back. His lips attached onto the base of my neck. The feeling of him sucking, and biting left you breathless. Reaching down I start rubbing my clit earning a moan from Peter. The pleasure taking over my body as I came hard. Holding onto Peter for dear life as he came after my release. His lips press onto mine in a desperate kiss pulling my body flush against his.

“I can’t feel my legs” I breathe out holding onto Peter.

“Peter, Mr. Stark tried shutting down your Do Not Disturb Protocol because he needs to- uh oh he broke into the apartment” Karen’s voice sounds scared.

“He broke in?!” I shout trying to stand only to slip and fall hard on the floor.

“Fuck this isn’t good” Peter scrambles rushing towards the screen turning off the shower. This situation could only get worse from here.

“Peter we have to talk this instant , what the hell is this Do Not Disturb Protocol abo-” The door slams open causing me to yelp out in fear at the sound of the door banging against the wall.

“Mr. Stark you have to get out!” Peter covers himself as I glared up at him trying to hide but there was no point.

“You’re sleeping with my daughter and keeping record in Karen’s system?! Wha-” Tony’s voice raises but he stops at what he’s about to say next.

DAUGHTER?” I ask in disbelief looking between the two of them. 

Peter still covering himself as he grabs our towels. Snatching the towel I cover myself up. Tony had his eyes covered  while the two of you put your towels on. You could barely stand from what you just went through but the adrenaline of the situation helped.

“Angel, I-” Peter grasps your wrist trying to pull you to him.

“What the hell Peter” ripping my hand out of his,I walk past Tony embarrassed as hell.

Grabbing a pair of clothes I go to our front door. It had a blasted hole into it near the handle. Changing in the extra bathroom I get inside Peter’s hoodie. Running out of the apartment and down the hall. Hearing snickers I saw Sam and Bucky in the hallway with grins. I give them a eat shit and die look before getting the elevator.

-

[Peter’s POV]

“What the hell Tony! Is that seriously the way you wanted to tell her that she’s your daughter” I spat at him earning a quick slap to the face.

“No it wasn’t , it slipped out..” He groans walking out of the bathroom.

“Well I’m going to change and if you care to JOIN me, you can explain everything so my girlfriend doesn’t HATE me.” I say pulling clothes out of the drawer.Throwing on my clothes quickly I mentally slap myself for the situation.

“Do I HAVE to.. ?” Tony says digging his shoe into the carpet.

“Tony, you’re GOING!” I snap pulling his sweater knowing exactly where she took off to.

Y/N‘s teased Harry all night, and he wants her to pay for it (she secretly wants it too, really badly).

i.

Y/N felt like a proper, scandalous tease tonight.

The sweetest smile was rested on her lips as she talked to their friends, she wasn’t paying half a mind to the conversation if she’s honest, she was too giddy and distracted. Under the dining table, her fingertips were brushing back and forth on Harry’s crotch, lightly tracing the outline of his cock through his floral print trousers. He hadn’t payed much mind to it at first, other than a flinch of his eyebrows in surprise, and a questioning look pointed her way. As the evening led on, however, the light traces and dances of her fingertips against his thigh had quickly escalated to something much more. Her palm was planted right on top of him, squeezing and palming his noticeably enlarged length now.

His efforts to warn her through panicked glances when she got him almost right on the edge— nearly too far to be able to gulp down his moans with his water but not quite on the brink for him to come in his pants— went past her with just a simple shrug and a smug perk of her lips.

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the blood is love ❦ roman godfrey

prompt: roman godfrey x fem!reader smut? with a little blood kink added in there? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

requested by: @richies-spaghetti

warning(s): this imagine contains sexual themes, explicit language, and mentions of blood.

word count: 780

The room smelled overwhelmingly of blood and stale cigarette smoke. You had to hold your breath when you stepped inside, broken shards of glass crunching beneath your boots as you did. The source of the glass—a shattered coffee table—sat overturned nearby, the body of some poor soul lying lifeless beside it. You didn’t dare take another step—until you saw him. Roman.

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→ RED, 1

red, 1: confession

» pairing: min yoongi x reader

» genre: angst (most genres will be touched upon as the drabbles continue)

» request: myg + dealing with cheating 

» word count: 1,529

» note: I decided to do this request as a drabble series as opposed to a one-shot or actual series bc I feel that taking broken glimpses at the relationship will be much more effective than a straight forward linear telling. Also most of them will be longer than this one, but it’s more of just an introduction to the story!

“I slept with someone.”

The four words that were said to you all of those months ago, wrapped in the static of cellphone towers that were trying to connect the two of you from across oceans. You remembered choking out a broken and fragmented, “W-what did you say?” Because for some reason you couldn’t stop yourself from needing to hear the words again even though you registered them perfectly the first time. Every single syllable had already embedded itself inside of your mind, and that sentiment still rang true even now, almost two months later.

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Request: Sharp Objects

Request: HI I love your fics!! could you do a deanxreader where dean broke his right hand on a hunt and can’t shave himself so the reader, with hidden feelings for dean, does it for him with lots of fluff please

Word Count: 1,270

Thank you<3

“Ouch! Jesus Christ, that’s a bitch.” The muffled cursing comes from behind the bathroom door, then followed by the clinking sound of something falling into the ceramic sink, and finally a, “Son of a bitch!”

Despite the laundry pile you’re carrying, you swerve across towards the door and knock a couple of times with your free hand, “Dean? Everything alright in there?”

There’s a moment of silence, and then a short reply, “Fine.”

He’s obviously frustrated – a tone you’ve quickly become accustomed to hearing after dragging him home from the hospital a few days ago. He’d landed badly after being catapulted across the room by an overzealous ghost and broken a hand, whereas Sam had gotten off with a concussion and you’d somehow managed to slip away injury-free – which had inevitably resulted in you skivvying around to cater to their every whim.

While Sam had managed to get over himself somewhat and take it easy while the hellish egg on his head goes down, Dean has been trying to do everything as normal. He hates being laid up like this, and trying to get everything done for himself has just resulted in more hurt and hindrance than help.

You still linger outside the door for a few moments, “Can I help at all?”

He hesitates, and for a long moment you wonder if he’s actually going to accept, “I could use a clean towel.”

“Got one here. Mind opening the door?” You ask, after trying to get in and finding the door locked. Again, a hesitation, but then the door opens, Dean fumbling with his good hand for a few moments to get it undone.

You pride yourself on being able to keep a poker face. Sometimes giving the enemy no indication of your emotions could mean the difference between life and death – sometimes it’s imperative that a victim doesn’t know what you’re thinking. But this time, when it’s important that you don’t make a sound so Dean doesn’t slam the door in your face, you just can’t seem to freaking manage it.

“I know, alright?” He huffs as you sidle into the bathroom and begin draping the towels from the pile over the towel rack, trying desperately not to laugh. It’s not your fault – he’s covered in shaving cream – it’s smudged over his nose and there are even splatters in his eyebrows. It’s all white, apart from a trail of crimson blood slipping down the side of his face.

“You can’t shave left-handed?” You guess, taking note of the razor left in the sink and the cast immobilising his right hand. He sighs wearily, and then nods.

“Nope. I’ve never had to try before, and I was starting to look even more homeless than Sam.” He complains, taking a towel from you when you offer one to him.

“Dean, for crying out loud, you shattered your hand. I think you’re allowed to look homeless for a little while.” You reassure him, balancing the rest of the laundry – mostly jeans and a handful of flannels – on the countertop, “If you really want it sorted, I’ll do it for you.”

As soon as the offer has left your mouth, you regret it – the very idea of managing to get so close to him without blushing like a five year old, or completely losing your breath… impossible. And yet, he nods, smiling ruefully.

“Would you mind? I just… can’t.” He shrugs, and you smile back, nodding and shooing him off towards the closed toilet seat.

“Go on then, sit down.” You instruct, picking up the razor and running the warm tap to clear it off. You let the tap run for a little while, filling the basin, and then approach Dean carefully, “You have to promise to stay still. Usually when I’m so close to someone with something this sharp it doesn’t end very well for them.”

He laughs, leaning back with the force of it, “That’s not encouraging, Y/N.”

“I said I’d do it. I never said I’d do it well.” You remind him with a smile – humour: humour is how you get through this without making a complete idiot of yourself.

“Much appreciated, beautiful.” He winks, and it’s all you can do to force out a snort and place your fingers beneath his chin to tilt his head up a little.

“Mm, whatever you say,” Sometimes it’s difficult not to take his words too seriously, and you have to remind yourself that Dean Winchester can and will flirt with anything that moves – you’re not special to him beyond being good friends and hunting buddies.

“Well, the closer you get, the more I’m thinking it.” He mumbles, remaining still as stone as you skin the razor over his skin smoothly – you’re painstakingly careful, starting on the opposite side to the cut on his lower cheek. He chuckles when you lean back to dunk the razor in the sink, then move back over to him.

“I’ll stay well back, then.” You wink in response, but contradict your own statement by leaning close enough to him that his breath ghosts over your face. His eyes remain trained on your face, watching every movement as you press your lips together, squinting in concentration. You try your best to ignore it, being as careful and steady as your humanly can manage while you get to work.

His eyes don’t leave you until you’re finished, patting down his face with a towel and then handing it to him – only then does he force himself to look away, watching as you clear up and set everything back in its place.

When he finally manages to open his mouth, he’s expecting the words that come out to be ‘thanks, Y/N’ – instead, they’re, “When you’re concentrating, your nose does this funny little thing.”

You turn slowly, quirking an eyebrow in a manner he can only describe as adorable, “Excuse me?”

“It kinda… wrinkles. But just at the tip. Right here.” He taps his own nose, a small smile playing on his lips, “And you blink a lot. I just… never noticed before.” Dean confesses, giving a nonchalant shrug and trying to ask as if he isn’t mortified by the words.

Rather than make a comment, you give a smile, wiping your hands off and stepping back, “I suppose I’m not the kind of person people pay a whole lot of attention to.” It’s not meant to be self-deprecating, but Dean takes it that way nonetheless.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He rolls his eyes, standing up and poking at the cast as if his hand would be magically healed, “Y/N, you turn heads everywhere you go.”

“Yeah, right, of course.”

“Hey, look at me,” He takes your wrist in his hand, turning you to face him properly, “You’re beautiful. Really, truly beautiful. And smart, and kind, and funny. And people notice that. I notice that.”

That’s when your heart really does skip a beat – his eyes are on yours, emeralds glinting in the harsh white light of the bunker’s main bathroom.

“Dean, I-“

“You don’t need to reply to that. Didn’t mean to back you into a corner. Sorry.” Dean smiles sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck with his good hand – but you shake your head, stepping forward with all of the boldness you can muster.

“I want to.” You assure him, taking his good hand and squeezing it gently, “I don’t care about anyone else noticing. Just you.”

He hesitates, then glances sideways, at the door, “Can I kiss you?” He blurts, flushing red like an embarrassed teenager.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”  

“Don’t Be Mad, Daddy.” (Mature - REQUEST)

Could you do some more mature imagines?

Can you do another daddy image? :’)

iMessage

Attachment: 1 image

Daddy needs you, be ready for me upstairs, princess x

A burning sensation stirred in my core as my eyes scanned over the photo Justin had sent me. Clearly preoccupied, the slightly blurred and quickly shot image displayed his hardened crotch. Judging by the time, he was still in a meeting; only making my temperature rise, the idea of him getting caught turning me on, slightly.

Standing from the couch, I exhaled loudly and made my way to the bedroom, knowing there would be consequences if I didn’t comply with his request. As my bare feet padded towards my drawer tailored specifically for these moments, I chewed on my bottom lip whilst deciding on which set would be appropriate.

Settling on my burgundy babydoll and thong, I headed for the bathroom so that I could see myself in the mirror. I had fifteen minutes until Justin was scheduled to be home, fifteen minutes to prepare myself for what was to come.

Deciding against tying my hair up, I let my curled locks frame my face; Justin preferred it when he had something to pull on.

Three minutes on the clock.

I grinned to myself and chose to disobey Justin’s orders, I found myself walking back down the stairs. Leaning against the doorframe of the living room, I waited patiently and anxiously for my boyfriend’s arrival. I’d never really gone against what he’d said before, who knows what he’d come up with.

The door clicked and my heart jumped. Justin’s took three steps before noticing my presence, eyes widening for a split second.

“Hey baby,” I smirked.

“Didn’t I tell you to wait for me upstairs?”

His voice was raspy and deep, something that came naturally to him yet I’m positive it was emphasised when he was aroused. I loved it.

“Don’t be mad, daddy,” I pouted.

“You disobeyed me, (Y/N),” He spoke, hands now on the small of my back, “That’s extremely naughty of you. Now, what should I do with you first?”

I tried to suppress my grin, continuing to look up innocently at him, I knew it was something that got to him.

“Fuck,” He whispered, looking away for a moment; composing himself.

I continued to stare up at him, his features mesmerising. I watched as his jaw clenched, he was awaiting a response that I wasn’t going to give, “Well?”  

Silence.

His brow raised, “Should I fuck you, first? Hm? Should I make you suck my cock for being so disobedient? Or should I put you over my knee and spank you for not listening to me?”

I whimpered, he noticed. With every word he spoke, he pulled me closer so that I was now flush against his chest.

Justin’s lips met with my neck once, before he picked me up and carried me up the stairs, I squealed as I was locked in his grasp; uncertain of what was about to happen.

Kicking the door open with his foot, he sat down on the bed and held me so that I was laid over his lap.

“You know, I should spank you for an hour for disrespecting my wishes. But, you’ve been a good girl and got yourself dressed for me, so for that, I will only give you ten.”

Pulling my thong down, I gasped quietly as the air hit my core. “Count,”

His hand came down on my ass and I jumped, “One,”

“Properly.”

Again, he spanked me, “Two, daddy.”

“That’s a good girl, only eight more.”

With each slap, I could feel the handprint burning on my ass cheek; causing me to tug on my bottom lip, hard. “Ten, daddy.”

A satisfied hum left Justin’s lips as his hand slid over my ass and down to my centre, running his fingers up and down my slit, “Look at you, soaking for me. Does daddy spanking you turn you on?”

“Mmm,” I moaned, feeling him circle my clit.

“Answer me, properly, (Y/N).”

“Yes, daddy.”

This time, he patted my ass gently, signalling for me to stand. I complied, and I stood, my legs shaking slightly. Justin’s fingers felt like feathers against my skin as his traced my shoulders, pulling down the straps of my babydoll. As it fell to the ground, I felt my nipples perk as they came into contact with the air, “Beautiful,”

Justin turned me around in his arms and guided me onto the bed, my hands and knees against the plush comforter.

“Spread your legs for daddy,”

A groan left his lips as I done as I was told, the sudden dip in the mattress indicating to me that he was, too, on the bed. His fingers spread my wetness along my folds, my pussy throbbing for him.

Pushing back against his long fingers, another slap was placed on my ass for being impatient, “Don’t,”

His digits left my centre, and I whimpered in protest. I needed him. Soon, I heard the zipper on his work pants and I grew warm in anticipation. A tight lipped moan came from me as I felt his tip running along me, collecting my arousal.

Again, I pushed back against Justin in hopes of getting fucked sooner, but he pulled away. “Don’t, (Y/N). I want you absolutely aching for me.”

“I am,” I moaned, “Daddy, please. Fuck me.”

A small chuckle left his lips, “You think it’s that easy, princess? Look at you, dripping for me. Desperate for my cock. Tell me how badly you want me.” With every sentence he spoke, he teased me by only pushing the tip in, and pulling out again.

“So bad… I n-need you, Justin, please.”

“I can’t hear you,”

I heard his shirt drop to the floor and I bit my lip, imagining how he looked right now; toned, face stern, slightly flustered, cock ready for me.

“Daddy, please…” I moaned, this time louder; but not to the point where I would be spanked again for raising my voice.

“That’s a good girl,” He spoke, before finally giving in and thrusting once, filling me up completely.

My body jolted forward at the unexpected movement, and I gripped the bedsheets as Justin began to fuck me to the point of oblivion, there was no going slow with him, “Fuck,

Sweat laced our bodies as we connected as one, the sound of skin-on-skin and moans filled the room. Thrusting into me at what felt like every half-second, my legs shook and I felt myself involuntarily squeeze them shut.

“No, keep them open for me, baby.” He groaned, gripping my hips tighter.

Falling forwards, my cheek against the bedsheets, I moaned as his fingers toyed with my already swollen clit.

A tug on my hair forced me back up, and I whimpered as Justin’s body fell forward so that he was close to me. Peppering kisses on my neck, he moaned into my ear, “You’ve been such a good girl for daddy tonight, haven’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“I won’t hold your disobedience against you, but that won’t ever happen again, will it?”

My eyes screwed shut and I couldn’t bring myself to answer him. My fingers gripped the comforter tightly as I felt myself edging closer to my climax. I yelped as Justin’s slapped my ass hard, “Answer me, (Y/N), or I’ll stop. I won’t let you cum.”

“N-no… It won’t happen again, I promise.” I breathed, struggling to form a coherent sentence.

“Good girl, are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes, I’m so close,”

The warmth of his body being so close to mine disappeared as he sat upright again and rocked his hips faster, hands pulling me back against him. His soft pants spurred me on and I fucked back, eyes rolling to the back of my head as he hit deeper than before.

“Fuck, baby… I’m cumming,” I cried, head falling forwards.

“Cum for me, baby… that’s it, fuck,”

As my body shook, I could feel Justin’s thrusts becoming irregular and quick, causing me to clench around him, “Oh baby, do that again.”

In seconds I heard him groan and spill inside of me, the feeling sending another set of shockwaves through my body. Collapsing entirely on the bed, I breathed heavily. Justin came to lay beside me and he pulled me close, bending one leg to wrap around his own.

My eyes fluttered shut as I felt him place a single kiss on my clammy forehead, fingers running through my hair, “I love you so much, angel.”

I smiled to myself and nuzzled into his chest, “I love you more.”

Suga Daddy: Part Two

Suga Daddy: Part 2

Word count: 6.9k

Genre: smut

Okay, I’m glad that some people liked this because I want to turn this into a series. This is pretty dirty so be warned. Anyway, on to the next part :)

part one


You were over at Taehyung’s, on the couch with him and Jimin watching a movie. Sadly, you weren’t paying too much attention to it because tomorrow you were trying out for a seniors dance showcase. It was a big deal for seniors, it was what they worked for all four years. This would be what they would perform for tons of people and entertainment scouters. Your school was known for helping dancers get jobs after this showcase at the end of the year.

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Punk (Chap. 8)

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 4284…oops

Warnings: Same as always

A/N: Okay here it is chapter 8.  Let me know if the flow of this chapter is okay, if it makes sense.  I’d like to get a better feel of how I construct scenes so I can improve for the future.  I LOVE feedback, you have no idea.  So don’t be afraid to lemme know how you feel!

Also, there is a line in here with an asterisk (*) after it.  It is a paraphrase from Criminal Minds season 3 episode 8 said by Penelope Garcia to Derek Morgan and it is something that has always stuck with me and I just thought it was so perfect for this chapter.



Perhaps watching Investigation Discovery’s documentary on the world’s most notorious serial killers at one o’clock in the morning while finishing off the leftover apple pie in an essentially deserted tower wasn’t the smartest move.  Every sound was suddenly more sinister and every shadow could be hiding a deranged murderer who wanted nothing more than to chop off your head and keep it in the freezer, which had startled you so badly when it spit out ice cubes into its inner bin that you spilled an entire glass of water on Ferdinand who ran shrieking from the room and knocked over what was probably a very expensive vase. Fuck.

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anonymous asked:

You guys MUST give us more details about the proposal(s) - How Stiles proposed and how Derek was planning to propose. Please and thank you <3

“Son, you need to calm down.”

Stiles paused in his pacing to spin on his heel, arms flailing, and fixed his father with a wide-eyed stare.

“Calm down?” His voice hitched, “Calm down? You told me he’s going to propose, dad. That’s- that’s huge.”

John raised one hand in a sort of placating gesture, “Now, I never said-”

“You implied it,” Stiles was vaguely aware that his hands were shaking as he dialled Derek’s number, for the third time in the span of a minute. A frustrated noise died in his throat when it went straight to voicemail, again.

“Stiles, I don’t get why you’re making such a big deal out of this,” John stabbed another piece of lettuce with his plastic fork, and pulled a face as if it had personally offended him. “This tastes like nothing.”

“Eat your goddamn salad,” Stiles muttered, eyes fixed on his screen as he typed out a string of texts. Badly punctuated, slightly hysterical texts.

“Not until you sit down and tell me what the issue is, here,” John tilted his head meaningfully towards the chair across from him, “I don’t want you having a panic attack.”

Stiles slumped into the seat, reluctant, and bit at his thumb. He narrowed his eyes at his left knee, which kept bobbing up and down as his leg twitched.

“What’s the problem, Stiles?”

I was the one who was supposed to propose first, okay?” the words left his mouth faster than he could think of them, a little louder than he’d intended. At his father’s questioning look, he took a deep breath and continued, “In theory. I mean, I didn’t see it happening for another year or two.”

“So you think it’s too soon.”

“Not necessarily, no- it’s just…” Stiles exhaled heavily, ran unsteady fingers through his hair, “maybe. Maybe it is. That’s the problem- I’m not sure. Do you really think we’re ready for this?”

“I know that you and Derek love each other,” the Sheriff’s brow was furrowed, “There isn’t any doubt there, right?”

“None at all,” Stiles said- immediately, reflexively. “It’s just that…God, I don’t know.” he groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

“Didn’t you have any doubts before you proposed to mom?” he asked quietly, through his fingers.

“Of course I did,” his dad’s response was soft, “How could I not? She was an amazing woman and I still wasn’t entirely convinced I deserved her. But…” Stiles lifted his head in time to see his dad shrug. “It’s normal to have doubts, son.”

The sound that escaped Stiles was helpless: “Derek’s not perfect, but neither am I. I’m kind of obnoxious and I talk too much and–  and at the end of the day, I’m just kinda an anxious mess, dad. I still have the nightmares, like, weekly. Should anyone really have to put up with that?

“And- and Derek has his own issues, but at the end of the day I’ve actually seen that he’s the sweetest goofball of a man and I love him so much and he’s probably got some huge romantic gesture planned that I could never top but, goddammit, I really wanted to propose to him first-”

“I’m going to stop you there,” his dad levelled him with a look, “Just tell him, Stiles.”

“What- tell him what?” Stiles muttered to his knees.

“Everything you just told me.”

“But I-”

“Go to him, tell him these things, and- goddammit, Stiles- just propose to him, if you want to propose.”

“I. I don’t have a ring, though-”

Go.” His father jabbed a finger towards the door.

Stiles shot up from his chair and was out of the office within the minute.

John dumped his salad in the trash.


The front porch of the Hale house made one hell of a noise when you walked on it- Stiles knew this, because he was physically incapable of walking around quietly (unlike certain werewolves that he knew). Currently, it was kicking up one hell of a protest as he stomped towards the front door, floorboards whining under his sneakers; not that he cared, not that he really registered the sound over the rushing in his ears. His heart was in his throat and his mind was running a mile a minute and he needed to remind himself to breathe.

Stiles took a shuddery breath and flung the door open. It hit the inside wall with a bang.

I was going to propose first, asshole!”

Okay, maybe not the best way he could have phrased that. He’d have to try again.

Derek, who seemed to be in the middle of assembling some kind of furniture, fumbled and dropped the screwdriver in his hands (goddammit, Derek never fumbled, what the hell). He turned to face Stiles; his ridiculous puppy eyes were wide and his eyebrows were doing the thing.

“Stiles, what-”

“You know what.” Stiles stalked across the room, gripped the front of Derek’s henley with his fists. “You were going to propose tomorrow, weren’t you?”

“I-” Derek looked crestfallen, suddenly, eyes shifting to the side as he said, “I’m sorry? I-”

“No, shut up and listen to me,” Stiles’ voice was low, intense, as he leaned closer and made Derek look him in the eye.

“I love you so much, Derek. So freaking much it scares me.” He loosened his grip a fraction, smoothed down the wrinkles in Derek’s shirt with one hand, “I love how you have this sense of humour that you only really share with me. I love the little crinkles around your eyes when you smile. I actually kind of love when you’re grumpy, too.

“I like it when you don’t shave and you get stubble burn all over me. I like that you’re actually, like, friends with my dad,” Stiles laughed, “I. I still have no idea how that happened, actually.”

Derek grabbed onto the hand that Stiles kept running down his shirt, lacing their fingers together,“Stiles–”

“No, I’m not done. So, yeah, sometimes we have our differences, like when you argue that a bald cupcake most definitely is a muffin-”
“But it is-”

“Shut up, it’s not.” He pressed his fingers to Derek’s lips, and Derek’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m trying to tell you that I love our differences. I love that we can argue and it can still be fun.”

Derek’s lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile.

Stiles lowered his eyes and went on,  “And…and I love that you’ll wake me up from my nightmares, help me count my fingers and calm down- and I just. I–” he shook his head, “I’m being cheesy, now, or whatever, I know– but you probably had something three times as romantic as this planned, so.”

Derek stared at him for a minute, gaze soft. He pressed a kiss to Stiles’ fingers, and Stiles lowered his hand.

“May I speak now?” Derek murmured.

“Just,” Stiles threw his hands up, “Will you marry me or not, you dork?”

Derek swept him- literally swept him into his arms, his feet left the floor- into what could only be described as a bruising kiss. Stiles made a soft, desperate noise and clutched at Derek’s shoulders, raised one hand and slid it along Derek’s jaw. Derek bit at his lower lip, licked into his mouth, and Stiles groaned and arched into him, seeking the warmth, craving the intensity. Gradually, the kiss slowed- became something softer, sweeter. Stiles pulled back reluctantly to take a breath, and Derek mouthed at his jaw.

“That’s a yes, right?” Stiles asked, on an exhale.

Derek buried his face in Stiles’ neck and laughed.

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek’s lips moved against his throat- soft, familiar. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Stiles grinned so hard it hurt, and ran his fingers through Derek’s hair, “Good. Wanna put me down, now?”

“Nah,” Derek nipped at him playfully, “Think I wanna carry you upstairs.”

“Oh, good idea, yes. The best idea.” He hit at Derek’s shoulder, “Go, what are you waiting for.”

It didn’t take them very long to get to the bedroom.

((hope this was okay, anon <3))

The Aftermath: Bucky (ALiL Deleted Scene)

Summary: (College!AU): In which Bucky reacts to finding out how you feel about him.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,740

A/N: I couldn’t write the next part of this series without giving you at least one scene from Bucky’s perspective. I’ve been excited to write this since I posted the original “The Aftermath”. 

“A Lesson in Love” Masterlist + Soundtrack

@avengerstories - thank you for editing this on your phone, you’re the real hero today

Originally posted by kingsebastian

Forty Minutes Later

Bucky clutches his chest, trying to remove a dagger that isn’t really there. It feels like it is though. The look on your face before he left your apartment put it there.

It had to be done.

It had to be done.

No matter how many times he has repeated those words, his makeshift mantra, they don’t make him feel any better. How could they when he just did the one thing he never wanted to do? He broke your heart.

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13 Reasons Why (Tape 2)

Characters: sister!reader, Dean, Sam, Crowley, mention of John, readers mom

Warnings: blood, angst, death, swearing, blackmail

Word count: 4775

Summary: Dean listens to tape two and learns the truth about what happened to your mother. His suspicion grows as he finds out more about who is and who isn’t part of the reasons why.

A/N: sorry I’ve left you waiting for so long but part two is finally here!

Series: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

You ran inside your old house, it felt strange to be home. But that’s where this place was… Home. Your place with John was never a home, it was just a motel; a room with four walls. That’s not what a home meant to you, it was a person more than a place. That person to you was your mom and you needed her now more than ever.

When you opened up the door you had expected her to be on the couch watching a movie or something. The TV was on, however she wasn’t there. Your mom would never have left the TV on and gone to bed, so where the hell was she? You shut the door behind you and checked in the living room once more.

Heading up the stairs you heard the noise of the TV from her room. Why would the upstairs and downstairs TV be on?

“Mom?” You called out, but there was no answer. “Mom, it’s me, Y/N… I’m sorry, things didn’t work out with John.”

You walked into her room and saw her foot hanging off the end of the bed. You figured she must have fallen asleep while watching TV. You smiled as you thought of her peacefully laying there and not having to worry about anything. You wanted to cover her with a blanket but as soon as you walked in, you saw something you weren’t prepared for.

Everything stopped for a moment, you couldn’t move or breathe. Not a single sound came from your mouth, you just stood there and stared at her lifeless body covered in blood. “No.” The short word just about escaped your lips. Your throat was dry and you still couldn’t move. You weren’t sure if it was fear or shock doing this to you but it was as if you had been frozen on the outside yet your mind was screaming on the inside.

Then the smell hit you. That smell your brothers and father had told you was an instant alert of demons. Sulphur.

“Fuck. No, fuck fuck fuck,” you finally screamed now that your body finally let you move. “Mom?” You sobbed as you moved forward and held her body close to you. You didn’t care that you were getting blood all over your clothes, all you were desperate for was to bring your mother back. “Please wake up!”

You laid her back down on the bed and looked down at her. She looked so… Peaceful. That’s not how someone should look when they’re dead, should they? Before you could even begin to think of a way to fix this somehow, a voice spoke.

You jumped and turned around to see a man in a black suit, an evil grin plastered on his face. “Hello, love,” he spoke in a British accent.

“What the hell are you doing here? Are you a demon?” You snapped as you stood away from your mom. “Did you do this to her? I swear I’ll-”

“Yes, I know. You swear you’ll kill me and bleed me out and blah blah blah blah,” he interrupted. “And I’m not just some demon, little Winchester. I am the king of hell.”

* * *

“Crowley. Welcome to your tape,” you revealed.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had no idea that Crowley was the demon that killed your mother. Now that Dean recalled it he realised that you never really gave details on who killed your mother. But why?

“Not only did you destroy my life by taking my mother away from me, but you also made sure I could never tell anyone it was you because you knew my secret. You held that secret over me to make sure that my family never came after you for hurting my mom… I kept you safe to keep myself safe,” you explained. Dean fidgeted in anger and anticipation. “But now I’m gone, I’m dead and I don’t have to keep my secret anymore… Now I can let it out on this tape that you are the one that murdered an innocent woman. But when people know your motive, well, that’s the real twist in this story.”

Dean had so many questions about this. He had mixed emotions: he was confused, angry and intrigued. Crowley being the one that murdered your mother wasn’t the twist of his story? What the hell could his motive have been? What could you or your mother had done to make him want to hurt you so badly? But if Dean needed answers, that’s what the tapes were for.

“So, Crowley,” you said in a sassy voice, a voice that Dean missed so much. “Let’s begin with my secret.”

* * *

“I know who you are, Y/N,” he smiled. “We just need to have a chat, my names Crowley.”

“I don’t fucking care who you are,” you spoke dangerously low through gritted teeth. Tears of anger and sadness slid down your cheek as you talked to him. “I wanna know what the hell you’re doing here, what happened to my mother?”

“All in good time, darling,” he smiled evilly. As much as you wanted to just jump forward and kill him, you needed answers. The fact that you had just lost your mom failed to sink in, the mixture of rage and sadness was more towards the fact that something bad happened and it was out of your control. Right now, talking to Crowley was the only way to take control of the situation.

“We shouldn’t talk here,” Crowley insisted. With a snap of his fingers you were gone from your mothers bedroom; you appeared in a humid room full of people with black eyes. Crowley simply raised his hand as a motion for them to leave and they did it right away, no questions asked.

So maybe this guy really was the King of Hell, he had such a power over everyone. He walked over to a large, black throne and took a seat where you stood a few feet away from him. It felt like he was your King and you were bowing down to him but there was no way you would ever bow down to this asshole.

“Why did you bring me here?” You demanded.

“We need to discuss things. There are reasons I killed your mother, and there are reasons you can never tell your brothers or your father. They would kill me,” he explained.

“That’s exactly what I want,” you spat through gritted teeth. “There’s nothing you can say that will stop me from telling my brothers that you are the one that killed my mom.”

Now, now,“ he spoke confidently. “There’s a little more to it than that, Y/N. I know things… Things you wouldn’t want your family to know about you.”

“And that is?” You questioned, you had no idea what it could have been but there were so many options. You had a lot of secrets and a lot of bad history. How would Crowley know about any of them?

“Do you remember-” he stood up from his throne, walked down the step and towards you, “-that night you were drunk, we spoke in the bar.”

Now you started to remember him. You were so drunk that night you didn’t even think about who you spoke to. He circled around you as he continued to explain the story. “Drunk girls really like to open up about their feelings, especially the feelings about their daddy’s that leave them.”

What the hell did you say about John? What was Crowley talking about?

“I remember you,” you said with a shaky voice. “But, I didn’t talk about John. You just helped me out of the bar and back to my motel room, then you left. That was it.”

“You really don’t remember, do you?” He asked with excitement in his voice.

You stayed still in your place as Crowley continued to walk around you in a circle, time and time again. “I do- I don’t- I don’t remember.”

“You really don’t remember the fact that you wanted to kill John Winchester?” He questioned and now it all hit you. You remembered the whole night. You remembered that you told Crowley about hunting, thankfully he already knew about it or you would have revealed it to someone who might then start telling everyone. You thought back to sitting in the bar and telling Crowley your whole life story; how you father left you; how your mother was all you had; the fact that you were bullied for questioning your sexuality all through school; the amount of times you had sex with countless people just because you wanted to feel something other that hurt. He knew everything.

* * *

“You knew everything about me, didn’t you? You made sure you did your research before hurting my family so that you could cover your back. When we met in that bar… I thought you were kind. I guess I always made judgements too quickly.”

Once again, Dean paused the tape. Instantly, Crowley was a dead man walking. There was no chance that Dean would let this dick get away with it. But then he remembered the message at the beginning of tape one, you said there is someone making sure they always listen to the whole thing. Maybe this person watching is also making sure Dean or whoever is listening can’t react by hurting the others.

Dean stepped out of his room. He left the tape in the player but put the rest back inside the box so he could find them easily for the time he listened to them.

John, Mary and Sam were all in the library and looking for a case. “Hey,” Sam said as he noticed Dean. “I think we found us a case.”

“It was Crowley?” Dean snapped, changing the subject of the conversation completely.

“You’re only on the second tape?” Mary demanded. “What’s taking you so long?”

“It’s hard to listen to,” Dean replied.

“I listened to it in one night the first time,” Mary revealed. The first time? She listened to it more than once?

“We need to have a life outside of these tapes, okay?” John intervened. “Look, Sam has found us a case and we haven’t been on a hunt in weeks. I say we go check it out.”

“Not all of us need to go,” Sam said as he held his laptop in his hands and looked at the case. “You two can just go, I can tell you’re eager for a hunt. I can find another one for me and Dean.”

“Sure, we’ll take this one,” Mary agreed. “I’ll go get some stuff for the road,” she told John before walking off.

Sam walked away with Mary and said it was to help her pack things but Dean was sure it was so they could talk about the tapes. He looked over at his dad who was slouched in the chair; he must have been drunk again.

“Why are you all so fine with these tapes?” Dean demanded. “Why have you all listened to them and never brought them up? Why aren’t they affecting you?!“

“Dean, they did affect us. And no one on these tapes could tell anyone anything, Y/N said it was part of her legacy to be the one to tell everyone how they ruined her life,” John explained as he stood from his chair. He pushed himself up by leaning his hands on the table. He was barely fit to drive, Dean had no idea how he was going to hunt.

“We’re family,” Dean snapped. “We’re supposed to tell each other everything!”

“We used to the first time around. But since your mother and I came back, things have been different.” John shook his head as he walked past Dean to go and find Mary.

Dean shouted before John could leave, “what about Sam?”

“He’s not even on the tapes!” John hissed. “He was the first one to listen to them and now he’s making sure all of us do too.”

Dean was taken aback by what John had revealed. Sam isn’t on the tapes. Sam is the one that you talked about on the tapes when you said the people listening are always being watched. But how did Sam know what to do? Did he know that you were going to kill yourself and not stop it?

Dean had too many questions running through his head. He wanted to ask John about it but if he tried to speak a jumble of words would just pour out like vomit. He waited to speak to Sam, he wanted answers right from the source rather that trying to get more out of John.

Once your dad and Mary had headed off for the hunt, the boys were left alone in the library which gave Dean the perfect opportunity to ask questions.

“Dad told me that you’re not even on the tapes,” Dean revealed.

Sam was shaken by what Dean said. He knew he would eventually find out, but never this early. He hated that he would have to explain this all. “I can explain.”

“Did you know?” Dean questioned which left Sam a little confused.

Sam stared at his brother with furrowed brows, “did I know what?”

Dean had to take a second to realise what he was accusing him of. Him and Sam had done some terrible things over the years, but suggesting that he knew you were going to kill yourself and letting it happen wasn’t something he would do. Never. His eyes darted to the floor, he was trying to think of what to say but it didn’t matter; Sam figured out what he was implying.

“No,” Sam shook his head. “No, you can’t accuse me of that, Dean. Of course I didn’t know she was going to kill herself, do you really think I wouldn’t have done everything I could go stop her?”

“I know,” Dean agreed. “But that doesn’t explain anything, Sammy. You’re not on the tapes, but you were the first person to listen to them.”

“Y/N left me the box with a note on the inside,” Sam began to explain.

* * *

The box was sealed and ready. You made sure Sam busy in the kitchen before hiding in the drawer in his room. He wouldn’t need to go in there until tomorrow when he changed his clothes which meant he wouldn’t find the tapes until you were already dead… He wouldn’t find them before it was too late.

It was hidden under a few of his shirts to be sure that if he did go in the drawer to put something away he wouldn’t be able to see it. When you left his room, you had a quick thought, something changed inside of you and you started to believe that maybe you could beat this.

You pushed past it. You couldn’t let that get in the way of everything.

* * *

“A few days after she… Took her life,” he stuttered as he looked down at his hands. He tapped them against the table nervously. “I found the tapes in my drawer. Inside was a note, she explained about the tapes and that I needed to listen to them and make sure everyone on the tapes heard them. She wanted me to make sure that no one could hurt each other until everyone on there had heard them. I have the note here if you wanna read it.”

Sam pulled out his wallet and dug out the note. He held it and looked at it for a few seconds before passing it to his brother.

Dean took the crumpled, folded piece of paper and held it in his hands. “I don’t know if I can. Not yet. Can I keep it for a while?”

“Sure,” Sam nodded. “As long as you need.”

“This note is instructions on what to do?” Dean asked.

“She said it’s her only legacy…” Sam replied. “She wanted me to pass it on for her.”

“Why are you?” Dean questioned. “Why not just kill everyone on the tapes?”

“Because there are people on there that I care about. And Y/N begged me to not do anything until everyone had heard the tapes… I owe it to her to make her mark,” Sam explained. He stopped tapping on the table and moved his hand to his mouth where he nervously bit his nails. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, he felt awkward and weird. He finally just folded his arms over his chest and stood still.

“People you care about are on there? What about Crowley?” Dean snapped.

“We can do something about Crowley when you finish the tapes. You’re the last one on there,” Sam told him.

“The last one? So everyone else on there has heard them?” Dean asked but he already knew the answer.

Sam nodded. He didn’t want to answer anymore questions because what you wanted was for people to know your story through the tapes.

“I just have one more question. Just one more,” Dean promised.

Sam looked up from the floor and back over at Dean; he noticed how serious his face was. Sam knew he wouldn’t be prepared for whatever question was going to follow, but he never knew those words would leave Dean’s mouth.

“Did I kill Y/N?” His hands shook as he asked the question. He knew he would have to listen to his tape, but he would have to wait through everyone else’s first.

“We all killed her,” Sam replied, avoiding the real answer.

“That’s not what I asked,” Dean spat. “Sammy,” he spoke in a sad voice, “after listening to these tapes, and knowing what you know now, answer me that. Did I kill our little sister?”

Sam paused as he stared at his older brother. Dean had never looked so broken or damaged. There was no point in lying because Sam was a terrible liar. Dean knew what the answer was.. But he just needed to hear it. “Sam..”

“Yes,” Sam finally said. “Yes… You did.”

Dean just nodded. He heard what he needed to hear, that one simple word summed it all up for him. He was at the end because he was the final reason.

“But Dean, it doesn’t mean you did it on purpose.” Sam tried to convince him that somehow this wasn’t his fault. “It was just what happened, there was nothing you did or could’ve done… It was just the final straw that drove her to the edge.”

“She’s dead because of me,” Dean concluded.

“Dean!” Sam shouted because his brother wasn’t listening to him. “I already told you. We all killed her.”

There was no reply. He just walked off and went back to his room to listen to the tapes. Dean knew it wasn’t just his fault, but the fact that he even had a part to play in this all was something he would never forgive himself for.

Back in his room, he picked up the tape player on his bed, put the headphones back on and played the tape again. It was like an endless cycle. He felt like all he was doing was listening, leaving his room, listening, leaving his room. Maybe after this tape he should go on a hunt… Even if it’s just a hunt for Crowley. Dean is the last guy on the tapes, Sam said so himself. So if Dean went after Crowley it wouldn’t stop your story from being passed on.

He held it in his hands and once again pressed play.

“So now you know, Crowley, that the people on these tapes will find out that I did want to kill my own father. Everyone knows my secret, now it’s time they knew yours. You do remember why you killed my mother, right?”

* * *

“Why did you do it?” You cried. “What did she do to you?”

“Your mother had a lot of secrets,” Crowley revealed as he stood still in front of you. “There were a lot of things about her that you didn’t know, love. It’s even one of the reasons she wanted you to go live with daddy.”

“No,” you shook your head. “She sent me to live with him because she wanted me to know my father. She always said that a girl should think well of her father.”

“Not that you ever did, considering you wanted to kill him,“ he replied sarcastically.

“You’re still not answering my question,” you hissed. “What the hell could my mother have done to make you do this?”

“Your mother,” he said with power in his voice, “was a hunter.”

“What?” You demanded. “No! She had no idea about hunting, she would never have sent me to live with John if-”

“She sent you to live with John because she wanted you to have knowledge of the life,” Crowley interrupted. “And the reason she couldn’t be the one to teach you was because she was going to do the trials.”

“The trials? You mean like- like the ones that Sam-” you stuttered. “Like when Sam was going to close the gates of hell?”

“Exactly,” he nodded before walking back to his throne and sitting down. “She was going to destroy this place, I couldn’t let my kingdom go down.”

“It wouldn’t go down it would just be closed meaning demons can’t get out! You hate earth anyway, why would you want to stay? You had no good reason to kill her!” You screamed as you stepped closer to to him. You swore that for a minute you put the fear of God in him. “You fucking asshole!”

“I did what I had to do!“ He shouted back. “Your mother became a hunter when John left you because she wanted to protect you from demons.”

“Exactly, she wanted to protect me!” You screeched through tears of anger. “She was a kind woman who wanted to help the world and you killed her so you could feel powerful… You did it so that everyone in hell didn’t know that you are weak, Crowley.”

He knew that everything you were saying was true, but he couldn’t put up with it. Not if he wanted to keep up his image as this big, scary King that ruled hell. He pushed his hand out and as if by magic you flew back into one of the pillars. When you stood up he was standing directly in front of you with a knife pressed against your face. It dug into your skin and cut along your cheek, causing you to whimper.

“If you speak a word of this to any of the Winchesters, and I mean any of them, I will feed them to my hell hounds and make sure you’re the last one and that you suffer. And even before that your secret will get out and they may even try to kill you themselves. It’s not like you ever fit in with them anyway,” he growled. “Do not try me, Y/N. I’ve already killed someone you love, you weren’t there to stop it. Don’t let it happen again.”

Crowley snapped his fingers and you were back in your mothers bedroom. The warm blood was dripping from your cheek and onto the floor. Your moms body was gone, the only thing to show that she was once there was the pool of blood on her sheet. He must have taken her to hell when he sent you back home.

Now you just felt numb. Nothing could happen to change your mood right now. Someone could literally come running at you with a knife and you would just let them. You didn’t care at all because at least you would be feeling something.

The only thing you had left now was going back to live with John. You didn’t want to; the only plus side was that you would get to live with your brothers again. You didn’t really know what to feel about Mary yet, you hadn’t known her long enough but you had a strong feeling that she didn’t like you.

You rummaged through your backpack and found your phone. You called the only person you thought you could trust right now. Sam.

You clicked on his name and waited. After three rings, he finally picked up. “Hey, Y/N. Look, I’m sorry about what dad did to you, I know that he regrets-”

“Sam,” you spoke. Your voice was at a low tone, the kind that if someone spoke in that way anyone would know something was up. “Sa- Sammy.”

“Y/N? What’s-”

“It’s my mom,” you sobbed. “She’s, she’s dead.”

“Y/N, where are you? Stay right where you are I’m coming to get you. Dean!” He shouted to his brother. You heard a door open, Sam must have stepped outside when you called. “Get the keys we need to go get Y/N.”

“Sam,” you cried. “I- I don’t know what happened. It smells like sulphur so it must have been a demon… But I don’t know who.”

“Did you see the demon?” Sam asked as you heard the Impala door shut and the engine roar. They were on their way. “What did it look like?”

“I don’t remember… It cut across my cheek with a knife but everything just happened too quickly,” you lied. “I just, I need you to come here and get me.”

Sam stayed on the phone to you until they arrived. Once they were there they broke the door down and ran upstairs to find you in your mothers room. “The demon took her,” you told them as they came in.

Dean held Ruby’s knife in his hand firmly as he moved around her room to see if anyone was still there. He then walked out of the bedroom and went to look around the rest of the house. You weren’t paying attention to what Sam was doing until you felt his body weigh down the bed next to you.

You both sat next to each other on your moms bed in silence. Anything he said wouldn’t have been enough, so he wrapped his arms around you from the side and held you close. That’s all he could do and the comfort was what you needed. Sam and Dean were the only people left that you considered as family.

It felt like all you could do was cry in the arms of you big brother and hope that his comfort would be enough to not only help you through losing your mother, but help you forget that you have to lie for the man that murdered her.

“This is all my fault,” you whispered.

“No, Y/N don’t say that,” Sam replied as he kept his arms around you. “This isn’t your fault. I promise you are going to get through this. We love you.”

You simply shook your head. “I don’t deserve to be loved.”

* * *

“You ruined my life Crowley,” you concluded. “Have you ever heard that saying, ‘keep your mouth shut and your eyes open’? Well, that’s what I did all those years. I thought my brothers would figure it out, because sometimes silence speaks more than words. But they never did… So now that I’m dead I don’t have to keep my mouth shut. And my eyes may not be open anymore but I’m glad that I can open everyone else’s to what you really are. I can open yours to what you really are. A monster and a coward.”

And that was it. That was the end of tape two. Dean knew what Crowley had done to hurt you and he had never been more angry. Rage took over his body as he thought about that accent in a black suit destroying your life and forcing you to lie to your family. Crowley didn’t just break your family, he broke your trust which meant you never felt safe with trusting someone ever again.

Those were issues that followed you until the day you died. You were hurt and alone and that was all the fault of Crowley. The worst thing Dean realised was that there were 11 tapes left of awful things that people had done to you.

He would have to sit through even more of these and know that people had hurt you and he didn’t do anything to stop it. He would have to listen to everyone else’s tapes.

But worst of all, at the end of it… He would have to listen to his.

Tags~

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