so i could pull a dexter if you know what i mean

The Dragon Angus Theory

I don’t know how many people know about this particular TAZ Theory but I discovered it last night in the TAZ Subreddit. There are thread discussions about this here and here. There could be more but these were the two I found.

In summary, the theory in general pertains to the fact that Angus might not be all that he seems, and that he might be a dragon in disguise. Specifically a Silver Dragon. Under the cut because this came out really long! (Don’t worry there’s a tldr at the bottom)

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Play Me // A Dylan O’Brien Smut

Relationship: Dylan O’Brien x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Daddy Kink, Oral (both), Spanking, Teasing, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Unprotected Sex, and Swearing.

Word Count: 4,915

Song: Despacito by Luis Fonsi Ft. Daddy Yankee and Justin Bieber

A/N: This is 100% because of the video that came out. The second I saw him playing the drums again, my mind immediately went to sin. I MEAN FUUUCK LOOK AT THIS GIF PEOPLE, HOW CAN IT NOT? Also, thanks to @stilinski-jpeg for keeping me sane throughout the writing process of this fic. Love you so much! 💖

In case you haven’t seen the video or you want to watch it again on loop if you’re like me. 

Fuck, I moaned internally as I watched him lick his plump lips in pure concentration, an immediate ache already rushing to my core just at the sight of Dylan’s sinful tongue.

His fingers were curled around the drumsticks and his muscles were flexed against his biceps with each movement he made as he played the drums in front of me. It took every piece of discipline I had in me to continue playing my saxophone and not toss it on the ground just to throw myself at him. Dylan had such an effect on me that I was constantly turned on whenever I was around him — and he doesn’t even have to do much to get me worked up. Just the way he is can get me easily horny alone.

It all started the night we first created this blues band. He was the drummer we recruited along with his friends Thomas and Dexter for strings and vocals. The three were undoubtedly talented and the perfect additions to our band, but Dylan… he was the perfect addition to my body. That first night the entire band partied to celebrate the arrivals and drinks were the main theme. One thing led to the other and, the next thing I knew, I was rushed into the nearest bathroom and being pushed up against the closed door. Dylan’s calloused hands gripping my leg and hitching it across his waist as he pounds into me mercilessly, fucking me so hard that I couldn’t walk the next day.

His eyes looked up at me for the slightest second and I could see the small smirk dangling from the corner of his lips, my breath hitching in my throat and disrupting my saxophone playing. Dylan noticed the way his smirk made me feel the need to press my thighs together and decided to play even dirtier by winking. I immediately moaned which came out as a strangled note from my instrument. The entire band looked at me with judgemental eyes at my horrid playing, but I was too busy focusing on Dylan chuckling lowly to himself.

“Alright!” I frustratedly shouted, surprising everyone in the studio. “Can we just please take a break from jamming right now? We’ve been at this for hours!”

Our vocalist shrugged carelessly and looked to his fellow bandmates, all shrugging as well before Tommy spoke up. “I guess we should. Maybe we can get something to eat?”

“Yes!” Dexter sat up from his stool, smacking his hands together. “Let’s go to that restaurant we had dinner at yesterday! They had the fucking best chicken fried rice.”

Everyone else agreed, each sharing the food they desperately wanted to eat there again. Well, all except for Dylan and I who were too busy staring at one another, lust burning our pupils to the point of no return. His eyes dipped for the slightest second to rake all over my body, gazing at the low-cut in my crop top before his eyes returned to mine with a cocky grin now invading his pink lips.

“You know, I think we should play our song one more time.” Dylan spoke up, his eyes never leaving me. My own narrowed, immediately understanding how much he still wanted to tease me. “To get it perfect before we officially record it.”

Again, everyone shrugged and agreed with his suggestion. Usually, I love how open they all are for anything but not today, not when I desperately want to feel Dylan’s dick twitching inside of me again as it quickly rubs against my tight walls.

“No, I think we should eat.” I counterparted, pulling the strap of the saxophone off my neck and placing the instrument in its case. “We need the break.”

“Maybe you need the break, kitten.” He raised an eyebrow tauntingly. “I mean, you do seem tense. What’s gotten you all worked up?”

The glare I gave him was nothing short of intense and full of raging fire. He and I both knew what he was doing, especially since he used that damn nickname that did inexplicable things to me. The entire band’s eyes were fixed on me and Dylan used the opportunity to run his fingers over his scruff as he winked yet again, fully aware of his power against me.

Fine then, two can play at this game.

“Having to constantly blow.” I retorted and it was my turn to smirk when his eyes widened. “The instrument, I mean.”

“Well I think you blow just perfectly.”

I was certainly glad that everyone else in the room was terrible at picking up on our innuendos and the incredibly strong sexual tension between Dylan and I. We haven’t exactly told anyone about us yet — mainly because we don’t even know if there is an us. We’ve been hooking up whenever it was convenient but with Dylan’s crazy schedule, it’s been pretty hard to maintain a physical relationship let alone possibly start an emotional one.

“Just one more?” Dylan teased and my mind immediately went to all of the times I begged him to quit pleasuring me when I was already so overstimulated, but he just kept going at it. “And then, I’ll- we’ll stop.”

“Just. One. More.” I stated through clenched teeth.

Picking up my instrument again, Dylan’s eyes were hooked on me as I licked my lips and wrapped them around the tip of my saxophone. The rest of the band members prepared themselves again and Dylan tapped his drumsticks three times to indicate the starting tempo. As soon as he was finished, we were all off and the song started playing beautifully. Despite not missing and mistaking a single note, Dylan and I focused on each other instead of our instruments. The walls of the studio were shaking at how loudly he was playing, each bang vibrating through the floor and into my body. It only made the aching in my core grow even more uncomfortable as it vibrated my cunt, forcing me to hold back any moan I wanted to release.

I watched as his head nodded along with the rhythm he created, his knees bouncing up and down as his feet continuously slammed on the bass pedal to carry the entire beat of the song. I hated to admit it, but our music would be nothing without Dylan’s talented drum skills. He was undoubtedly enjoying himself, the melody completing taking over his body… except for the eyes boring into mine that is.

Fuck, it should be illegal to look that fucking good playing the drums.

I thanked the Lord when the song was finally over and I managed to play every single note without letting Dylan distract me, despite almost falling prey to him many times. He put the drumsticks down on the floor and picked up the green bottle of beer from it instead, his lips pouting as he took a long sip. I was practically drooling at the sight of his adam’s apple moving up and down as he swallowed the bitter liquid. Everyone else, including me, put their instruments away for the time being.

“Time for grub!” Dexter celebrated and the entire room boomed with laughter at his excitement for food. Normally, I would be right there with him but at this moment all I could truly focus on were the way Dylan’s eyes were calling me.

“You guys go ahead.” Dylan stated, standing up. “I think I’d rather eat Chipotle.”

“You sure?” Tommy asked, everybody already at the door. “You should come eat with us so you’re not alone.”

“He won’t be alone. I’ll go with him.” I spoke up, clearing my throat. “Gotta have those delicious chicken cutlets.”

“Suit yourselves.” He shrugged, guiding everyone out of the studio and closing its door behind them.

It was as if the second that door sealed shut, every bit of sexual tension we were trying to keep to ourselves was released out into the air. Just the thought of what was undeniably about to happen next made my pulse accelerate, my heart pounding against my chest. I wasn’t the only one effected as I watched Dylan take slow steps towards me as if I were a magnet pulling him in closer and closer. He was practically undressing me with his eyes and usually I would blush at such a forward act, but now right now. Right now, all I want him to do is give into the lustful things his eyes are telling me.

“So,” I broke the silence, my breath unstable as he finally reached me and placed his hand on the small of my back. His lips brushing against my neck, making goosebumps cover my skin. “How about we go eat take out?”

“No, kitten.” He whispered, my body shivering at the feeling of his lips touching my ear. “I’d rather eat you out, instead.”

Dylan’s mouth immediately moved to mine and he crashed his lips against my own. I couldn’t help but moan into our sudden kiss, throwing my arms around his neck. His skillful lips meshed with mine in such a fiery and passionate pace, he almost made me lose my balance. My hands didn’t just remain on his neck as he successfully seduces me, but ventured over his back and explored the amazing feeling of his flexed muscles pressed against my palm. Our breaths mingled before Dylan licked my bottom lip with his tongue and I instinctively opened it for his tongue to have its very welcome entrance. I could taste the alcohol in his mouth along with the mint from his toothpaste and all of my senses were heightened, begging for more of him.

I broke the kiss, but he chose to continue teasing me as his lips moved to my jaw then my neck. Not even bothering to hide the fact that he was currently creating a purple bruise on my skin with his smooth assaults. My fingers gripped onto his back, my nails digging into our band’s t-shirt. He chuckled on my neck and I instantly whimpered at the resonance.

“Please, I have been unbelievably horny since the moment you walked through that door today.” I moaned. “Just fucking do something already.”

“Patience, kitten.” Dylan retorted, his fingers moving to the hem of my high-waisted skirt just to tease me. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Not when their friends will be back soon.” I mewled.

“Honestly, they could walk in on us fucking and I wouldn’t even stop.” Dylan nibbled on my ear. “Now, kitten, tell me all of the things you want my mouth to do to you. Teach me your favorite places.”

“You already know my favorite places, Dylan.” I responded and definitely didn’t miss the cocky grin he played on my skin.

“Just because of that impeccable response I’ll give you want you want, babygirl.” He whispered huskily before moving his hands to the back of my knees and lifting me up.

This time I was the one who started the desperate kiss as he walked forwards, my back suddenly hitting the wall behind me. I lost my rhythm with his lips and failed to remain the dominant one when his hands massaged the back of my thighs, sparking more desire throughout my entire body. Just as I was about to try and get my power back, Dylan unexpectedly broke our kiss. Our panting breaths hitting each other’s faces before he started to push me up. I looked at him with wide eyes, but allowed him to do whatever it is he’s planning to do. The next thing I know, I’m so high up that he wraps my legs around his neck.

With my legs dangling over his shoulders, Dylan moved one of his hands to my inner thigh and purposely drummed his fingers on my skin before reached the area closest to my core. I bucked my hips for him to do more and, to my surprise, he actually did. Dylan suddenly ripped apart the thong I wore and felt no remorse towards ruining something I owned, and, honestly, neither did I. I was so glad there finally wasn’t anything keeping him from touching me anymore that I didn’t even bother to think about the consequences.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding about how horny you are.” Dylan chuckled, certainly staring at the arousal covering my cunt. My hips twitched the second his finger swiped through my slick folds and a shameless moan fell from my lips when he licked his wet finger with his tempting tongue. “God, kitten, you always taste so damn good.”

“P-Please.” I begged.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Dylan smirked, nibbling my outer lips. “I know that I’m a drummer and I’m good with my hands, but damn kitten.”

“And I’m a saxophone player, I’m very good with my mouth.” I retorted, raking my fingers through his dark strands. “Which I’ll gladly use on you if you just give me what I want.”

“Well, you certainly have a way with words, babygirl.” He stated before finally doing what I wanted him to by swiping his tongue up my core, my vocal chords releasing the most animalistic moan the second the tip of his tongue touched my clitoris. “Damn, you sing the second I touch you.” He chuckled. “Kinda like playing the piano.”

“Then, play me.”

The last thing I saw was Dylan’s pupils dilate just before he dipped his head under the fabric of my skirt along with his hand and began his mind-boggling pleasure on my core. His tongue created fast and steady circles on my sensitive nub, immediate pleasure striking through my veins. However, my body buzzed intensely the moment he pushed a finger into my soaking heat and pumped it repeatedly. My eyes instantly shut tight and chose to only focus on the feelings he was creating inside of me.

I squirmed and my hips bucked involuntarily, my own fingers clutching onto his hair. He grunted at the harsh feeling and my lungs immediately gasped when the vibration of his voice rippled through my core and initiated the build up now invading me. I could feel my nipples hardening against the cheap fabric of my bra and I desperately wanted to pinch them in between my fingers — which is exactly what I did after I let go of him to rip apart my blouse along with my laced bra. Dylan couldn’t exactly see what I had just done, but he definitely put two and two together at the sound of the tearing fabric and didn’t hold back his moan. Letting what remained of my shirt and bra fall to the ground and playing with my nipples in my fingers, I felt as Dylan added another one of his in me. He increased the pressure and the pace, giving more power to my build up.

“F-Fuck, baby.” I moaned audaciously. “Just like that.”

He followed my request and continued moving his two fingers in my tight cunt rapidly, but his lips however wrapped around my clit. His tongue still licked and played with it as well, but now he had added his sinful mouth to the mix. My sensitive nub enjoyed the attention it was getting from Dylan, flashing pure thrill and bliss straight to my build up.

Carefully hearing out how responsive I was being, Dylan decided to do more when he knew I was ready for it. He scissored his two fingers inside of me and I screamed, my body already shaking with its arriving orgasm. Dylan’s addictive movements in my cunt only stopped right when he knew I was going to cum and curled the tips of his fingers against my walls instead, the perfect amount of pressure I needed to fall into my release.

I didn’t expect Dylan to stop as I came, but I certainly did expect him to when I finished. However, he did not halt his actions at all. In fact, Dylan only increased them. His hand removed itself from my core and returned its post on my thigh along with the other one. He pulled back from the wall and my own hands immediately flew to his hair for stability, but I didn’t make it in time. Although his grip on my thighs were incredibly strong enough and wouldn’t let me completely fall, I couldn’t help but squeal when the top half of my body dropped down, by back now resting on his legs.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get more intense, Dylan slipped his tongue into my cunt and I urgently wrapped my arms around the back of his knees. The new position enhanced everything he was doing to me, expanding my pleasure by one-hundred percent. I whimpered and mewled at Dylan’s invasive touch, considering how overstimulated I was. But, he didn’t stop his attempt at giving me more than one consecutive orgasm.

His tongue was deep in me, constantly brushing my g-spot, and he licked around my walls, definitely enjoying my taste by the way he moaned continuously along with me. My back arched and my legs shook again at the feeling of his tongue literally fucking me just as Dylan’s thumb applied unbelievable pressure on my incredibly swollen clitoris. Not only making me reach my orgasm and cum, but literally fucking gush. My immense arousal squirted out of my cunt, certainly soaking his entire face.

This time Dylan did stop, but only when he deemed ready. My core was throbbing intensely as he walked us over to his drumming bench and asked me to place my hands on them for him to pull my legs off of his shoulders and carefully settle them on the floor without the risk of hurting me nor letting me fall. Once he laid my legs on the ground, my butt involuntarily sitting down too, I watched with hooded eyes as he pulled his shirt off his body and used it wipe his face clean.

“Take your skirt off, kitten.” He commanded, unbuttoning his khakis and letting them drop to the floor.

“Yes, daddy.” I bit down on my lip, enjoying the view of him momentarily losing his shit at the nickname just as he stepped out of his pants pooling at his feet.

“Daddy, huh? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier…” He smirked, taking taunting steps towards me. “Now, why don’t you kneel here in front of daddy?”

I didn’t say anything, I just changed my position to settle on my hands and knees and slowly crawled in his direction. The feeling of my skin scraping against the rug burned, but I chose to ignore it. I could see the huge bulge in his grey boxer-briefs create a wet stain with his increasing precum at how the sight turned him on beyond compare and it boosted me to sway my hips more, my confidence growing. Dylan’s hand moved down to his crotch and he slowly palmed himself over the fabric before becoming impatient and pulling down his boxers just enough to start touching himself. Immediate heat and lust rushed back to my core at the way he pumped his own dick, my mouth drooling at his actions.

Once I reached him, I placed my hands on his bare thighs to steady myself as I settled just on my knees, the rug digging into my skin. Our eyes were locked together, my mouth inching closer to his shaft. He didn’t stop masterbating even when I took his tip into my mouth and sucked profusely, his throat making its own strangled noises. My tongue licked the precum off of his slit and Dylan’s hips bucked, involuntarily​ pushing a little more of him inside my mouth. I swatted his hand away and he let both of his hands run through my hair as I took in as much of his cock as I could. Dylan gathered my hair together in a temporary ponytail and whilst my mouth bobbed his dick rapidly, my tongue would constantly graze against his prominent vein on the underside of his member.

“Shit, kitten.” Dylan moaned, bucking his hips faster. “Your talented lips feel so fucking good around my cock. Thank God you’re so invested in playing the saxophone.”

I moaned around his staff and he immediately growled at the intense vibration, his hand gripping tighter in my hair. Impatient with letting me be in control, Dylan pulled my hair back roughly, my head going along with it. Then he, suddenly, pushed my head right back to take him in again deeply — so deeply that his swollen tip lodged in the back of my throat. Dylan created this new pace where he would pull my hair to guide his dick in and out along with his thrusts. The stinging pain on my scalp from his harsh pulling did not overpower the lust inside of me and I willingly allowed Dylan to use my mouth as a damn fucktoy.

“Fuck me, babygirl.” He grunted before unexpectedly pulling me back and not letting me take him in my mouth anymore.

Suddenly, Dylan tore my grip away from his thighs and let my hair go. He took a step back, my palms immediately landing flat out on the floor to keep from falling. The strands of my hair swayed to the front of my face as he stepped out of his boxers and walked behind me. I heard him fall to his own knees and, without any warning, a loud sound of Dylan’s palm slapping against my skin echoed in the room along with the sound of my scream at the stinging pain of just getting spanked.

“God, I fucking love your ass.” Dylan confessed, sinking his teeth into my cheeks and letting go right after another scream escaped my lips.

“Jesus Christ, Dylan.” I grunted, already out of breath. “Just stop teasing and shove your dick inside of me already.”

“Did you just call me Dylan?” He tisked and I could picture him shaking his head. “You know that’s not what I want, babygirl. Which means I won’t give you want you want.”

“N-No, I’m sorry!” I whined. “Daddy, please.”

Dylan surprised me when he pushed just his tip inside of me, my core pulsing around him. However, he stopped teasingly and it drove me absolutely crazy. I tried bucking my hips back, but Dylan just grabbed my waist roughly and halted my attempts.

“Come on, daddy.” I whimpered at the feeling of his dick throbbing. “Just fuck me.”

“Like this?” Dylan asked, slowly pushing in until he was buried to the hilt before pulling back out at the same agonizing pace. He did this a few times and my body begged for more, not able to withstand the slow rate.

“Faster.” I begged impatiently. “You know how I like it rough.”

Dylan moaned at my commands, but continued his vehement torture anyway and I wasn’t having anymore of it. Bringing my hands back, I ripped Dylan’s off my waist and he almost lost his balance at my sudden movement. Pulling his dick out of me, I pushed him to lie down on the rug and threw my legs over his hips to straddle him. Both of my knees settled on the rug and Dylan’s eyes widened at me before they narrowed with a growing smirk.

“Damn-” He began to speak, but my finger flew to his lips and stopped him from continuing his sentence. His eyebrows quirked in curiosity and I simply gave him the most smug grin I could put together.

“I’m in charge now.”

Dylan’s dick twitched in between my thighs at my new confidence and his hands flew to my hips, allowing me to do whatever I damn pleased. I grabbed his shaft before positioning it at my entrance and sitting down on him until I felt his balls on my ass. His head instantly fell back to the ground, his eyes shutting tight. Thanks to how fucking wet I was from just having two orgasms (and counting), it wasn’t hard to glide him in and out of me. Both of our throats erupting into uncontrollable moans and neither one of us had the intention to stop.

My hands were splattered out on his chest, my nails raking down his skin and digging into it as his own fingers gripped my hips tightly to help guide me. I bounced up and down on his cock, the wet sound of skin meeting every time my cheeks came into contact with his balls. Dylan growled lowly whenever my nails created stinging shapes in his flesh. My build up returned stronger than ever, already licking at my veins. Dylan could sense how close I was from how I tightened around his shaft and his eyes opened, a sense of mischief pooling in them.

One of his hands made its way to our repeatedly connecting bodies and everything inside of me jerked the moment his fingers applied rough pleasure on my clit. A flash of heat spread through my body as I screamed, not able to hide how much I loved his addictive advances. However, it was when Dylan sat up and not only changed the angle but pushed me back a little so he could attach his mouth onto my breast that the build up won. My arms wrapped around his neck to keep some sort of balance as my body violently shook with its intense orgasm. I continued to bounce on his dick and Dylan grunted loudly when I clenched around it. His teeth bit my nipple harshly and I screamed, all of my senses dancing on the surface of my skin.

Even as my body fell limp and stopped moving, Dylan didn’t. His hand on my hips wrapped around my waist and elevated my body slightly before thrusting up into me. At this point, I couldn’t even control the overwhelming amount of screams falling from my lips along with his name.

“That’s right, kitten.” He managed to say through moans. “Scream my name and forget every other name that exists. I’m the only one that can fuck you like this.”

I felt that same flash of heat again, followed by another and another as he continued to thrust up into my g-spot, his cock rubbing so fucking deliciously against my tight walls that it made me want to cry. No crashing waves and no build up, this time a violent pleasure tore through me. A whiplash of ecstasy snapping at my clit and spreading everywhere. Dense streams of cum slithered down my legs and I noticed as it soaked him, dripping down his cock, covering his balls and pooling over his thighs.

His fingers changed its pace on my overly sensitive nub and I crashed again, falling deep into the abyss of euphoria. Each climax was unique and when the final one was drawn out of me, I actually cried — like literally. My tears rolled down my flushed cheeks. My lungs hurt at the lack of air. My throat was dry from screaming too much. My lips were raw from the insane amount of kissing and biting down on them. And every joint in my body ached.

When he noticed I couldn’t handle anymore, Dylan pulled himself out and laid me down on the floor. I was completely out of breath and unable to move my body, but I still watched with hooded eyes as he crawled over me. Each of his knees settling beside my shoulders, his hands moving down to my head and grabbing my hair.

“Do you wanna taste daddy’s cum, kitten?” He teased and I immediately nodded. “I’m gonna need you to say it.”

“Yes, daddy.” I spoke up, my hands holding onto the back of his knees. “Fuck my mouth.”

That’s all the incentive he needed to shove his dick into my mouth and I gladly welcomed it back. Dylan used his hand on my head in synch with his thrusts to control how deep he wants to go. Because he was already so close to his edge from constantly feeling my cunt tighten around him, Dylan was already falling off of it in a matter of seconds. It only took a few thrusts and my mouth hollowing out as my tongue constantly licked his sensitive tip. Dylan’s hot release immediately shot out of his slit and landed on my palate, the delicious salty taste of his cum making me moan.

“God, no one can give a blowjob like you, babygirl.” Dylan whispered huskily, laying back down on the floor beside me.

The sexual tension in the air eased down and was replaced with pure bliss, both of our chests rising and falling with heavy breaths. All of a sudden, Dylan turned around and nudged his face amongst my shoulders. Goosebumps making its ways on my skin at the feeling of his hot breath against my neck as he wrapped a lazy arm around my waist.

“What'cha doing there, Dyl?” I asked curiously.

“Breathing in your neck because you always smell so good.” He shrugged.

“Well, I’m just gonna pretend that’s not a weird thing to say.” I chuckled and he laughed with me.

“Sorry.” He smiled, placing a chaste kiss on my skin. “Would you rather I whisper things into your ear so you remember them when you’re not with me?”

“Hmm, that would be nice.” I smiled before it turned into a grin. “But, I’d rather go eat that take out.”

Nursemaid

(Jimin’s crush comes over to his house to help him out after he suffers an injury that leaves him with limited use of both hands.)

Warnings: 6000+ words of smut, Jimin POV, I’ll let you guess what kind of smut takes place


“I can’t believe you managed to injure both of your hands on the same day.” Hoseok’s girlfriend, Sophie, stifled a laugh while she said it. “I can’t tell if you are dumb or just unlucky.”

 Jimin sighed.  He had been stupid and drunk when he and Jungkook went out into the street to play with fireworks.  One went off too close to his hand, burning his right palm requiring a trip to the emergency room where his injury was cleaned and bandaged.  The doctor gave him a lecture about drunk people and explosives and how fortunate he was not to have blasted off his fingers.            

While exiting the hospital, Jimin immediately tripped over the curb and landed with his full weight onto his left hand resulting in a small fracture and return trip to the emergency room to get a splint to immobilize his other hand.   Now, every time Jimin saw someone, he had to suffer the embarrassment of explaining what happened. People had a hard time not laughing when they heard how he managed to get hurt twice in one day.

 “Does it hurt much?” you asked him.

“Not really. As long as I don’t bump into anything or use my fingers too much, it’s okay.” At least you seemed to be genuinely concerned about his well-being. That’s one of the reasons Jimin liked you, you always seemed caring and sincere.  The other main reason he liked you was because he thought you were incredibly hot.  There were plenty of nights Jimin stayed up fantasizing about what it would feel like to be with you.  He wanted to ask you out, but had been waiting until there was some indication that you were even the slightest bit interested in him.  He was starting to think that maybe he had a chance with you, but he felt neutered with his injuries, unable to do things like casually touch you and see how you would respond to his advances.  Jimin resolved to make a move as soon as he had full use of his hands again.

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MOON SIGNS

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A lot has been written on Moon signs.

These perspectives come from a Scorpio moon (in the Third House)

The understanding of each astral body deepens as you factor in what each works with or opposes. This is where it is crucial to see what else is creating discord or harmony with your moon. You are attempting to perceive the universe as a whole rather than isolating each individual part. Your sun and rising sign especially help to define what exactly your Moon is to your conscious mind. How you feel is not always what you present to others –something most people would agree on. The drives of the moon are not always easily understood by the intellect.

These are my experiences with each individual moon sign. I don’t have an equal amount of experience with each and so I apologise if some signs have longer write-ups than others.


ARIES MOON

Bold, yet child-like, yet anxious. Dramatic, explosive, quick and then bored. There is a wonderful sincerity and silliness about the Aries moon. They are the first to get up and boogie. I find many of the pains Aries moons carry very visible to me and I respect that vulnerability. I think it is part of what makes them direct. They play by fighting you. Imaginative and raw. I think of the archetypal anime protagonist gleaming a toothy grin and then fist-pumping in the air as we embark on a quest up Candy Mountain. They are social-spiritual pioneers. Sometimes, they don’t stand up to the people they should and take their anger out on those who don’t deserve it (ala ‘kick the cat’ syndrome). Sexually open and willing though the roles are traditional, primal. They can get quite down when their flame flickers out and the warmth fades. Their competitiveness can get the better of them and it can be hard for them to detach from their identity into a larger unified picture. However they are equipped with fantastic gusto and enough of it to make it up those mountains. They may see themselves as that youthful inner child however that image can become the justification for roaring anger – to protect the child.

TAURUS MOON

Oh, man.
I have an intense level of respect and also, to be frank, fear of the Taurus moon. I fear getting too close, and I think they do too (maybe that’s why I feel it) (hold on maybe they’re afraid of me?)

So yes of course they progress slowly, steadily, stubbornly, charmingly… With a silent and deep appreciation for the small pleasures in life. They are beautiful and frustrating. Wise and sometimes closed minded. Forgiving but not forgetful. I think the patterns and routines Taurus moon carves deeply can lead them to believing that people are limited or ‘they are who they are.’ It may seem like a safe thing to do but it inevitably leads to buried feelings that manifest as irritation. This is why they feel that magnetic attraction to their opposite, Scorpio, as buried feelings is what Scorpio specialises in. They need to be released!
If they do have transformative experiences with people, however, there is not much in the world they cannot accomplish. You don’t want the limits of your perception to become the balcony you lean over to judge others. Taurus moons are, regardless, unendingly kind, caring, generous and full of good humour with those they love truly. They do not seek outright praise, preferring the smilingly cheer you on from behind the scenes. They step into a nurturing authoritative role with ease because it is easier for them to do that than be on the receiving end. They do want both sides though. They understand boundaries instinctively.

GEMINI MOON

I wish I knew more Gemini moons!! I do not feel that qualified to comment as I have not gotten terribly close with one. I can only think of a few people I know with Gemini moons who will have to serve as my inspiration.
I am still grasping mutability (or not, you changeable bastards) and I imagine Gemini moons to have fervent mental chatter, a whole cast of different characters their radioheads tune into. 

The wittiness is always a go-go and I also do wonder if the 'identity crisis’ many astrologers report with Gemini could be more to do with conditioned language patterns Gemini is highly attuned to. Seeing as being overly identified with words and labels can trap you, Gemini dances between contradictions and in the in- between, wonders who the heck they are. But crises can purge and the truth is always what’s left behind.
There is a lot of restless energy here. Gemini’s curiosity is something they must accept in its entirety if they wish to wield it to its utmost potential. If only we were inside a simulation game, these guys would be the game masters for sure. Gemini moons may feel like keeping the dialogue internalised but actually they should share it. It is the way they will attain the peace and relaxation they crave. By communicating with meaning and truth –these are the lessons they must embody and bring to us all.

CANCER MOON

Ah yes the intuitive understanding of Cancer moon. Sensitive, headstrong and goofy they can swim in the natural affection they feel all around, breaking the ice and helping us all accept the sweetness of the moon, forever watching us at night. Their sacrifices (farts) are a blessing. Like Gemini moon, I have yet to get really deep with a Cancer moon but I know it would be powerful.
They have a contagious excitability and sincerity that will forever be taken advantage of if they do not learn to love and value the magicians they are. 

They must never slip into a Madonna/Whore complex or let purity be defined for them by others. Lucky that their intuition is always so on point. Expressing their anger in healthy ways that don’t perpetuate victim-centred scenarios is something they are learning. It is easy for Cancer moon to suck in aaaaall the bad vibes as water signs do. Don’t ignore your feelings and don’t be compliant, especially if you know you’ll regret it or backtrack it! Cancer moon’s energy is precious and magical. They do not always see the doors they open for people because they can get distracted by shitty thoughts or past emotional residue. Love you guys

LEO MOON 

Leo moons are insanely loveable, proud, gleeful, naughty, fun, dramatic, loyal… They are like a non-submissive Pokemon who wants to kick as much ass as possible with you. They are less forthcoming with their emotional issues, preferring to be a proud lion. Pride is a lonely cage though and isolation, especially for Leo moons, can lead to very depressed slumps. Ultimately though, all their lows help them appreciate comraraderie all the more. They dislike being ignored.

Leo moons are inventive and creative practically, they will really do it, not just say it. Their impulsiveness can get them into all kinds of trouble and even then they are so friendly and groovy that they can get away with it. Their hearts are powerful and when all is aligned they exude warmth followed by big headed claims and roaring laughter. 

They really are the party Kings and Queens of the zodiac because no one else will get so wrecked and hold it down so well and also still look like they had the best time ever. Their things are their treasures. A mere scarf becomes a robe, a daisy chain a crown. 

VIRGO MOON

There is a quiet (and somewhat bitter) determination to Virgo moons. They are aware of the bullshit in this world and make sure you know it too. Their kindness is not loud or showy but a quieter, understated recognition of all the work we do to help this Ferris wheel of a life be better for all. They are secure when they are in their homes or a place where they are understood for the dexterous work they do, whatever it may be. It has been said before but I will say it again: you Virgo moons are too hard on yourselves. Yes you must be brave, Virgo moon, and share your legitimate concerns when they arise. Once you feel accepted for your thoughtfulness, even if it’s a bit sharp, the pressure will be released. Don’t hold it all in, or you will suffer from nervous tension that can fester. They need to be wary of the preconceptions they bring into conversations that may have people thinking they are more closed minded than they really are. 
Virgo moons are a lot cooler than they give themselves credit for so let them know (though they will laugh it off). They need to be not stuck in their own heads. Analysing is fine but only if you already have material, a project or a relevant issue to use those powers on. Otherwise you are putting the needle right into your soul and it is destructive. Facing your fears and mistakes instead of hiding will open you up and others will finally get to see the very real and down to earth being that you are. I am very grateful for Virgo energy. Their conservativeness may polarise and they may get stressed but they are never ones to ignore good common sense or injustice. Their shyness and dirtiness reflect the contrary mutability they possess. Someone you can underestimate but will surprise you when they pull out  the perfectly sharp edge of the knife.  

LIBRA MOON

Libra moons are playful and intelligent; they quickly slide in golden nuggets of advice during a conversation, like their words are the lubricant to help everybody get along… And they do. A libra moon (or sun) who believes in love and in people can open up the mind of the most hardened  of cynics. It is essential that they make room however to have quality alone time. That way they will feel far more centred and their own person when interacting with others, instead of getting lost in a room of mirrors. They can be so nice and compliant that they can slowly lose their true sense of who they are and what they believe in as they care a lot about the wellbeing of everyone.  Only when they are unbalanced do they get defensively self righteous. Or block everything out. That said a Libra moon won’t go to bed after an argument – they really can’t tolerate the tension and would rather apologise and seek a peaceful resolution.

There is a very natural understanding here that the state of being people are in greatly affects the environment. Ideally though (see what I did there) they are cool, calm, collected, filled with balanced thoughts for us all and ever graceful. And pretty.
Conflicts and issues in relationships can shake them up so much that they may deny and avoid them for a long time. It can result in a lot of heaviness – and this sign wants to be light! Comfort, like with the also-Venus-ruled Taurus moon, can become the enemy if they are not doing work they truly believe in or are not supported by real friends who care for them. Most Libra moons wisen up to the limits of superficiality, as beautiful and interesting as some people/places may seem. They don’t want to waste beauty.
Libra moons are also awesomely progressive and they should share their great ideas with people who can help them manifest it all, or at least push them to. They can’t cope with being on one side of a fight unless there is extremely good reasoning behind their choice, the possibility of being bigoted really screws with their principles, which are essential to them. Bitching about people hurts them a lot because they want to be liked and for everyone to co exist peacefully. It may take a while to get close with them and they can flake out when it comes to routines and schedules but if you are patient they prove to be the most loyal of friends.

SCORPIO MOON

Aaaaaahhhhh!!!!!!! Why do we try to fix things by controlling them MORE??!?!?!?!? Scorpio moons need to learn, on as many different levels and in many different ways, to relax. For real. Surrender, as much as you can, to whatever the situation is, and let yourself relax. Whenever a Scorpio moon transforms though, everything changes. People are gob smacked by how low to how high a Scorpio moon can go. They think we must be utterly mad ;-) It is extremely difficult but extremely necessary for Scorpio moons to transmute and transform their emotions. Only then can we unleash our gifts. Otherwise, yes, we will become the villain in any given scenario (unless cap moon is on a rampage) 

okay so yes sex and death deeply changes the vibe in the room but is that all we want to be known for?? Not at all. Not at all. Scorpio moons must not numb themselves because then they are building and building and building up all the pain and gearing up for another destructive bender. It is far better to cry and scream and simply let yourself feel the pain. All the answers are in that pain. Don’t you forget it.
As always and with all signs, Scorpio moons are their own worst enemy. By not showing our emotions we create and perpetuate a MASSIVE LIE about WHO WE REALLY ARE. This is what I believe to be at the root of the notorious intolerance Scorpios have for lies. It is intolerable precisely because we are already experiencing lies on a soul level, lies that do not allow people to see our depth of feeling and understanding. Vicious cycles of lies that lead Scorpio moons to believe that by closing more people out or building taller walls, will be better for us. Note how close Scorpio is to Libra and the theme of relationships. Sometimes people need to see those flowers that bloom in the dark, when they’ve lost all hope.

 The sooner we can relax and reveal more of who we are the better– not only will people have a better idea of how to respond to us but ultimately those who matter don’t mind and those who mind don’t matter!
The more a Scorpio moon argues the more everyone in the room feels that painful non-acceptance of reality building tension. Such is our force. We are equipped to do incredible things and incredible never means easy.
Sex is not the sole route to intimacy and life does make that lesson torturous and clear. Scorpio moons can get very lonely and will push themselves to extremes when they are not accepting reality. The struggle to express our feelings, fear of vulnerability and other peoples wariness of us all plays into us thinking we are some long-living Gollum creatures. We are not. Believe that you are sexy. You don’t have to prove it to anybody but you. Power is knowing you already know. Yes the know-it-all controlling nature destroys all our relationships. It’s only because we are overdoing it. Pull back and let people impress you back! Take note of people’s discomfort and make changes in the moment to show you do feel it too. You do have a lot to share, don’t hide behind your pride. (And yes we do know when we are being lied to or if you are having sexual thoughts)

SAGITTARIUS MOON

My best friend since childhood has a Sagittarius moon. Intelligent, at times too cool for school, wild and loud and self-conscious- where do I begin? Sagittarius moons are righteous and don’t hold back on delivering the truth to your face. Their friends will think it’s the most hilarious thing ever and you will feel dumbbb. They are damn good at that, however if they are having internal struggles they will stir the pot just to stand up righteously, or wait for you to fuck up.
It’s understandable that many fall for Sagittarius moons – they’ve been there and done that and their sense of humour demonstrates that well. You want to impress them! Their open minds are a turn on, and I have found it to be true that they have a lot stories to tell surrounding cults, religions, specific groups and cultures of people… I can always see myself skydiving with a Sagittarius moon. They don’t do well with clingy people, but accepting that emotional attachment is a naturally occurring phenomena would help them.  

They need to work on staying humble in their hearts not just in words or in clothes or style– that is what led to the bountiful knowledge of the spirit in the first place. They can chase after the original high until they’ve burned down the path entirely. There is a cheeky, mysterious side to them that is sexy and their joy and gratitude is so vibrant it can reverberate right up your spine.

CAPRICORN MOON

I really love Capricorn moons, even though we likely roll our eyes at each other and really have no clue about the other at times. You can’t get away with everything, boss or not, and Saturn makes sure these people know that (eventually). They are industrious, ambitious with high expectations, professional, suave, aware of the 'audience’ and have great reserves of ancient knowledge stored in their laughter and often pained expressions. 

Capricorn moons, surprise surprise, are really hard on themselves, like Virgo but with far more whiplash. They keep it under wraps. They need to be careful they don’t get crushed by the weight of the burdens they carry…and maybe to remember too that those burdens may in fact be wings they have yet to unfold and fly with. Shrewd and covertly manipulative, they can bring out the criminal in people, yet at the same time their logically intuitive judgement is there, watching you make an ass of yourself. They don’t always share their shady observations, but should with confidence, not anger, because they make a lot of really great points the right people don’t get to hear. Their realistic feedback could serve to really improve a myriad of issues. 

Capricorn moons are great at working the system (that includes within a family system) but need to remember not to become slaves to that system and cold to everyone else. That system could be based on lies or agendas that don’t factor in their personal success at all. Luckily as soon as they know that they will dump anything that is holding them back. Their feelings are private and reserved only for them, and if you’re lucky and earned their trust consistently, you too. They know how to work you into a state of compromise.

AQUARIUS MOON

I go through periods of being intensely fascinated by Aquarius moons and then I dismiss them. This may be a mutual thing between us. They really are ahead of everybody though (and slow to admit they care!) and they do know what they’re talking about. Try not to always believe everything they say, as they need to be pushed to be the best messengers they can be. Otherwise it comes a predictable Gaslighting exercise, sorry to say it.

Their emotional detachment can get in the way of people engaging on a real level with them and of course their own ego. The gifts they do bring are life changing but hence the struggle. The pride of being an original, of giving no fucks, of going anywhere and everywhere, of laughing at the aliens in your mirror… This is the Aquarian. However as the moon is much more internal people may not realise how weird and zany those with an Aquarius moon are, and they may hold themselves back socially..and then erupt into a nutty character when they’re drunk. They work hard to maintain objectivity and a logical mind state, though the bellows of emotion from others can send them back into their rooms for a while. They may struggle to deal with one on one interactions for extended periods of time, preferring to thrive in a group where they can disperse their knowledge through vivid storytelling or in juicy snippets.
Aquarius moons far reaching perspective does make them a boss, but the fear of getting 'too close’ can really stop them reaching out. I know it’s crazy to say to them that not all emotions were manufactured by Disney but it’s true. It is the fear ITSELF that warps their visions, not experiencing intimacy. It would really help them express their natural eccentricities a lot more if they could dare to go there, don’t hide out in space! It is true that in some of my darkest times I have been inspired by an Aquarius moon, or they have simply pointed to all the space above us and smiled, because with so much space how you can get caught up in such pettiness?
Anyway they are lovely souls and friends, their intelligence is anchored in carefully thought out principles and they will still listen to you before disagreeing! Hahaha

PISCES MOON

With all water moons it is important that they stand up for themselves before they feel violated by too aggressive people. Such is true for the Pisces moon. They are natural space cadets, dreamy, creative, musical, impressionable and empathetic. They also give no fucks about current fads and trends that enslave people in time. They are not ones for tedious, high pressure work with no creative or tangible productive merit (and fair enough too). There is far beyond all of that and they know it.
What they aren’t always aware of though is how powerful their empathy is, how strongly people feel understood by them to the point where people will unleash their demons on them because they think it’s okay–Pisces moon will understand, right? Wrong, it’s never cool to abuse people like that and we should aim to get more on their level rather than pull them down to ours.
Pisces moon needs a consistently peaceful and chilled out environment where they feel they can creatively nourish themselves without getting dragged into any of the preceeding 11 moon signs’ drama. They are wise in that they know how closed off people can be whilst still having a heart.

Inspired by THIS POST about gay Disney Princesses. 


When the old beggar comes to the door, Addy knows better than to let her in. She doesn’t look at the rose or the woman too long; she shuts the door.

Some will call her arrogant or selfish, but what is she to do? No guards, parents in the capital (not, here, not here), and the knowledge that she is the damsel in all those fairy tales weighs heavily on her mind. Oh, little princess, far from home and alone, so alone.

The Enchantress (for they do not call her witch) makes sure that she stays that way.

Alone except for her wilting rose.

(She did not want it, would not take it, so she was bound to it. Such is the way of Princesses.)

———————————-

Addy used to have frightful bursts of temper. Her face would turn red, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, mouth screwed into an upside down kidney bean. Anything could set her off; a too tight corset, a walk ended too quickly, another toy sword taken away. She’d wail and scream, kick her feet and punch the air, tear and rend anything within arm’s reach.

The first time she has a fit in her new form, it’s after Mrs. Potts reads the King and Queen’s decision on her…condition. She’s to stay here, on the outskirts of their kingdom, until a Prince comes to release her from her spell. Alone until a different sort of bond is forced on her, until she is made to change from princess to beast to bride.

Addy know why they refuse to save her. It’s because she’s always been too big, too strong, too ill-tempered, too–

In her rage, Addy upends the tea tray, forgetting, forgetting, forgetting.

She is reminded when fine china falls to the hard ground, when it rattles, when it shatters, when it screams.

“No!” Addy falls to her knees next to her dishes– no, her friends and frantically rights them, apologies tumbling from her lips, eyes brimming with tears.

“Temper,” Mrs. Potts murmurs, more out of reflex than anything, looking obviously terrified. She hops from her side to her base, better able to control her new body than any other castle resident. Her lid is sitting askew and her eyes are wide (so wide) as they dart from one cup to another. “Daniel? Daniel!”

Addy cuts herself on broken porcelain and flinches. She–she’d killed him, she’d been so thoughtless, how could she? “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

“I’m okay,” a little voice says. “I’m okay, Mom!”

 Addy sobs as she locates him under the silver platter, on his side, trapped. She throws the platter too hard, lodging it in the wall, and takes Daniel in her paws.  

“It’s okay, Princess Addy,” Daniel chirps at her. He’s a little older than her, just a few years, and he’s always trying to be strong. His eyes are wide (too wide), but he offers her a tremulous smile. “I’m okay.”

“Thank goodness,” Mrs. Potts says and her china clinks as she hops forward. 

Addy’s eyes lock on the horrible, huge chip in his rim. 

I did that.

She’s across the room before being aware of setting Daniel down, of standing, of leaping away.

“Princess,” Mrs. Potts says from her low, low position on the floor. “What–”

“Don’t call me that,” Addy grits out. Her huge body leans heavily against the door, making it groan, as she desperately tries to wrap her paw around the handle. She can’t stop looking at the chip, the proof of harm, the proof that something much worse can happen so easily. “Don’t call me– I’m not–I’m not the Princess. I’m the Beast.”

The door crashes open and she disappears.

————————————————

It’s weeks before the servants realize that she’s never going to answer to her name again. She no longer sleeps in her princess bed or attempts to wear her princess clothes. She wears pants scavenged from the servants’ quarters, tunics from her father’s closet, ties her mane back with twine instead of ornaments.

“Addy!” they call. “Princess Addy!”

The Beast doesn’t even know who that is.

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dean/cas fic: nothing else matters (1.2k)

nothing else matters; 1.2k, coda for 13x01, dean is a sad bean

[AO3]

“We lost everything,” Dean snarls. His pulse is thundering underneath his jaw. “And now you’re gonna bring him back. You’re gonna bring back Cas, you’re gonna bring back Mom, you’re gonna bring ‘em all back – all of 'em. Even Crowley.

”'Cause after everything you’ve done… you owe us, you sonofabitch. So you get your ass down here, and you make this right. Right here. Right now.“

Dean sucks in a breath. He pauses for a second, but nothing happens – no thunderbolt, no flash of light, no voice in the distance. Swallowing hard, he glances at the sky, then turns and looks out across the lake. The water is pale blue and rippling softly. Dean sucks in another breath, and another. The stench from the restaurant’s dumpster crowds into his nose - rotting food and grease.

He slams his fist into the smiling pirate cut-out on the wall, again and again and again – until his knuckles split open and the wood splinters and snaps in half. He hurls the pieces over his shoulder and chokes down a thick, desperate noise. He wants – fuck. Fuck.

"Please.”

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Work From Home - Smut

Originally posted by fandcm-world

Author: @dumbass-stilinski
Rating: NSFW 18+
Pairing: Stuart Twombly/Reader
Words: 2,656
AN: A little birdie told me there’s going to be a couple of Stuart fics coming out in the next week….here’s one for ya. I love you guys, I hope you like!


Your boyfriend Stuart worked long hours a lot, and it could get pretty lonely. He loved his job, and you knew it he was good at it. He was incredibly smart, and he’d been chosen out of hundreds of applicants for the internship that got him started with Google, and you were so, so proud of him. You just missed him.

He texted you whenever he had a free moment, asking you about your day, and making plans with you for dinner, telling you stories about his co-workers, or jokes that made you laugh. But sometimes you wished he could stay in bed with you all day, putting those fingers to better use on your body, instead of on his phone or computer.

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the gym | tom holland

some steamy stuff for @tbholland’s steamy saturday (which you should definitely check out and participate in because holy hell) :-0

(excuse any errors bc i’m not 100% sure there aren’t any)

prompt: tom feels sexiest after the gym; all the sweat and exertion puts a little more self confidence and.. eagerness into him. so, one day when he gets home after a particularly grueling workout, he’s very obviously feeling and acting as he usually does; sexy, sly, and driven.

words: 1900+

warnings: heavy implications toward sex, suggestive scenes- the title says it all i guess

Soft white sunlight blanketed the kitchen as you cleaned off the counters, wiping off the thin film of dust that had collected over the course of the day. Cleaning helped you pass the time whenever you were alone. Your boyfriend, Tom, was out at the gym yet again. With his lively presence missing while he was away, it was almost eerily quiet throughout the house. You had put on some music to compensate for such an emptiness and your playlist became the soundtrack to your little kitchen cleaning session. Tom’s shirt hung loosely off your shoulders and brushed against your thighs, just below your shorts, whenever your legs moved. A small smile spread across your face as the song changed over from “Hotter Than Hell” to “Puppeteer.”

Halfway into the song, the front door to your apartment creaked open. The loose floorboard in the foyer audibly whined in response to Tom’s weight who, obviously, had returned from another exercise session. He tried not to miss them even though he didn’t completely enjoy them; he was definitely fit enough that he had to push himself to see any improvement, but he didn’t need a lot of that at this point. The frequent work outs were mostly to maintain his physique. The way he felt afterwards, though.. that made up for all of it. Tom was relatively confident most of the time but after the gym he felt especially sexy. And his moods translated into his actions. Maybe it was the exertion, or the endorphins, or the sweating, but working out just did something for him. You appreciated it- very much so.

Tom’s slightly sweaty form appeared in the entryway of the kitchen. Already you could sense his confident mood from where you stood. His eyes were glazed over, expression heavy with something like eagerness that you couldn’t pinpoint from where he was- a little too far away from you.

“Hey, love,” you greeted him, letting go of the wash rag in your hand. Soon as you circled around the kitchen island, Tom’s eyebrows shot up in response. His hungry gaze fell to your body.

“Hello to you, too,” he responded, voice rich and husky. His tone sent an almost violent shiver down your spine.

You cleared your throat and rubbed the back of your neck. Tom stalked over to the fridge with the intention of getting a bottle of water, but his eyes drank you in and sized you up wth every step. Suddenly the sun wasn’t the only thing warming your skin.

Tom reached into the refrigerator for a water and his arms flexed just enough for you to notice when he opened it. You wondered if he did it on purpose; you didn’t mind it in the least if it was.

You allowed your body to lean up against the counter and your eyes travel up and down Tom’s figure; you enjoyed the view. “How was it?” You asked. “The gym, I mean.”

Tom shrugged, lifting the hem of his tank top to brush away the water that dripped from his lips onto his chin. The gesture compelled your eyes to eat up the view of his taut abdomen, and your own stomach came alive with butterflies as you glanced. Tom didn’t miss your stare and this time only one eyebrow was raised at you.

“Stealing glances, aren’t we?” Tom inquired, sending a crimson blush to the apples of your cheeks. A smirk crossed his face and a husky laugh fell from his lips. “Mm, don’t worry, love. I am too.”

His words left you a little dumbstruck and made goosebumps travel across your skin. You were now much more aware of Tom’s every movement— and your own. Your boyfriend bit his lower lip briefly before speaking, putting rather unholy thoughts into your mind.

“But the gym was fine.” Tom firmly set the water bottle he had on the kitchen counter behind him. “If I had known you would be looking like this, though… I might not have gone.”

You now saw the look in his eyes: lust of a sort. It sent a soft tremor through your body.

“Stop it, you,” you murmured breathily, but not really meaning it, considering you said it through a smile. Tom usually wasn’t so sexed up, even after the gym. That being said.. you happened to enjoy it.

Tom shrugged. “Whatever you say, darling.” Your phone emitting music from its speakers caught his eye. He pressed the home button to view the song playing.

“What have you been doing, darling? Dancing around?” He teased. You bit your lip and shook your head.

“Hardly. I’ve just been cleaning,” you told him. He sighed softly, almost groaning.

“Too bad. I like it when you dance.”

Tom turned to reach for his water again and you found yourself letting out a sharp breath, taking in all that he was saying. Doing. Thinking. Your heart was racing so fast and hard that you could feel it in your throat. How were you to respond, really? Perhaps it didn’t matter, because Tom could probably turn whatever you said into something suggestive because of the mood he was in. And that mood was.. it was something. Intriguing. Exciting. He meant it to be that way, you were sure.

When Tom whirled around again, he did it so that he could make his way over to you. Your breath hitched the same way it did when your relationship was new and, really, the same way it did whenever the sexual tension between you two was as thick as it was.

Tom offered you his water, standing just barely six inches away from you. “Thirsty?” He inquired. Your mouth was a little dry, but not in a way that water would have helped. You shook your head.

“N-no.”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows, giving you a curious look. But it seemed almost fake, as if he’d scripted what he was going to say and do to you before he even walked in the door.

“Nervous, love?”

You paused, taking a deep breath and shrugging your shoulders. Composing yourself. “I’m just sizing up your mood,” you said. The sudden firmness in your voice surprised you a little, and Tom, too, judging from the way his eyes widened. But he didn’t drop his suggestive demeanor.

“Mmm. What is it to you, then?” Suddenly his fingers were walking up the side of your thigh, traveling to the bottom of his shirt that you wore. Your tongue darted out to lick your lip; Tom’s eyes darkened in response to that. As much as he took the lead in the situation, you
had him wrapped around your little finger with every move you made. He wasn’t only high off of his endorphins, but drunk off of you, as well

“Seems like you want something.” You cocked an eyebrow at him and tilted your head to the side. Tom bit down on his bottom lip,
his eyelids lowered. A mischievous smirk adorned his features. Yes, that was definitely lust written across his face. A million scenarios and thoughts raced through your mind in that moment.

“I guess you could say that,” he said lowly.

Tom slid his hands up your shirt to touch the bare skin of your hips. His hands were warm and soft, dexterous and almost delicate in nature, but their intentions were anything but that. You placed your hands on his forearms and looked up; he was staring at you intensely, waiting for a response. Whether he wanted it to be verbal or not, you didn’t know.

You straightened up and kissed him softly, but barely long enough for him to kiss you back before you pulled away. Actions spoke louder than words, you supposed. And right now, what you were doing was making your mind scream in anticipation, your skin burning red hot as it pressed against Tom’s.

Something like a low growl resonated from his throat when your lips left his. He wasn’t keen on your affection disappearing; he craved it. You really did have him hooked on you, like some sort of crazy drug. Even with his mood from the gym playing with him, giving him control over the situation, his actions were still following yours. He pulled you ever so closer to him, your body close enough to his that you felt the heat radiating off of him. Having gained some confidence, you looked him dead in the eyes.

“I’m positive you do,” you whispered. Tom looked almost impatient at this point.

“It’s not kind to tease, love,” he stated, pulling your hips flush against his. Your cheeks burned as his hands moved further up your body, bringing his shirt with them.

You cleared your throat. “Well, I don’t think you’re playing very nice either.”

Tom chuckled and gave you a knowing look. His hands toyed with the idea of pulling the shirt off of you, as if teasing you back. “Playing nice isn’t my thing, princess.”

You didn’t even have a response to that; you were so tongue tied and dumbstruck. And as confident as Tom was acting, his teeth dug into his lip in a way that told you he was becoming impatient, too. The games were fun, but the reward was better.

A split second later, your lips crashed against his, capturing them eagerly and passionately. You were already breathing shallowly: such a kiss left you gasping when you took breaths. Tom’s hands fell just a little farther down to grab for your waist again and your arms encircled his neck.

“God, you’re sweaty,” you giggled breathlessly, feeling his hair briefly. Really, he wasn’t that sweaty, but you noticed it. Tom scoffed lightly back.

“Maybe you should shower,” you suggested.

“Why shower when I’m about to get dirty again?” He shrugged. The line was somewhat cliche but left you blushing even harder anyway.

Tom broke the kiss to leave a trail of kisses down your jawline, groaning softly against your skin. Your eyes shut and the heels of your feet left the ground. Tom gripped you underneath your thighs and wrapped your legs around him. Another soft laugh left your mouth.

“Eager?”

“Mhm.” A few seconds passed before Tom set you down on the kitchen counter, kissing down to the side of your neck. Only now did you notice the music still playing; “Hotel Confidential.”

“Planning on leaving the music playing? Or are we heading somewhere else?”

Tom’s chuckle reverberated against your throat, your skin buzzing softly. You let out a content moan.

“Unless you want to move..” he paused, mouth lingering at the space on your neck that always left you just a little shakier. You gasped softly.

“I didn’t plan on it,” he finished. Butterflies danced ever more intensely in the pit of your stomach. The kitchen counter provided much needed support because your legs were shaking so hard in anticipation that you would’ve probably fallen otherwise. Tom’s hand held the side of your neck, thumb tracing light circles into your skin. You placed your thumb underneath his chin and pushed his mouth up so you could kiss him again, but a little slower to allow you both to breathe.

“I’ll have to clean these counters all over again,” you teased, inserting a faux whine into your voice. It somehow made your boyfriend shiver nonetheless.

“Mm.. maybe I’ll help you out with that, too,” he suggested. Something between a laugh and a groan left your mouth.

As Tom peeled his t-shirt slowly up and of your torso and let his mouth latch onto your neck again, you thanked whatever god may have existed in that moment for the gym.

Heart on the Line (part 15)

Masterlist

You and Bucky had your differences in college, but now you need a place to stay and he needs a roommate, and in order to make ends meet, you two start a phone sex line together.  

“For a Good Time, Call…” AU


author: sugardaddytonystark (formerly buckysbackpackbuckle)
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
word count: 1217

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3. Wingman // Nurseydex

« {Part 3 of my Valentine’s collection.} »

a/n: sorry, this is two days late, but it’s also almost 3k, so…. hopefully that makes up for the tardiness? also! please note that this fic doesn’t have anything to do with ngozi’s short comic, wingman. your characters are safe. content warning for underage alcohol usage.

This is definitely not what Dex signed up for.

He’d expected Nursey Patrol to involve limiting Nursey’s shots and keeping him from dancing on tables, which, okay, would have sucked, but this is honestly not much better.

“Soooo, have you met Dex?” Nursey says for the third time this night, like imitating Neil Patrick Harris is still funny. He’s dragged Dex over to yet another group of female athletes that he’s going to have to do his best to avoid for the next three years of his college career. Nice.

“Hi,” Dex says awkwardly. “I’m Dex.”

“Pssh, I just said that,” Nursey says, slinging an arm over Dex’s shoulder and leaning on him only a little more heavily than he might have done sober. “He’s usually a lot brighter than this, ladies. He’s a CompSci major­—super smart with computers and shit. Plus all that typing means he’s good with his fingers, if you know what I mean. Just look at those hands—”

“Okay, that’s enough, Nurse. Sorry, you guys, um. Bye.”

He pulls Nursey away from the girls and—fuck, he’s pretty sure one of them is in his Stats class, dammit. Nursey stumbles behind him obediently, letting Dex drag him over to the kitchen. Dex fills Nursey a glass of water and Nursey drinks it dutifully, standing next to the fridge.

“Okay, so remind me why you’re trying to humiliate me in front of half of Samwell’s female population?” Dex demands when Nursey finishes the glass.

“‘M not humiliating you,” Nursey insists, then waggles his ridiculous eyebrows. “I’m trying to get you laid.”

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NurseyWeek Prompt #2 - Surprise


Bitty almost jumps out of his skin when the Haus’ front door bangs open, the loud slam of wood against wall echoing through the hallway and reaching Bitty where he had been sitting placidly at the kitchen table. He relaxes when he recognizes Nursey in the archway of the room, but something about the way he’s standing makes Bitty double take.

It looks like someone took Nursey and gave him a good shake, sloughing off all that hipster cool that he so carefully cultivates for his everyday persona. Nursey’s lost the regular slouch in his shoulders, the serene look on his face; now, he’s swaying slightly, legs and arms tucked tight into his body. It’s like he’s unconsciously trying to take up as small a space as he can, which, being a 6’2” college athlete, isn’t all that small. His curls are slightly mussed, and he has lines of exhaustion written across his face.

“Bits,” he says, a note of solemnity in his quiet voice, “I need your help.”

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Home Alone

Pairing: Negan x reader x another female

Summary: What can you say? You’re a creative genius, if your mind is not being mentally stimulated you can be pretty disruptive to the productivity of others. It’s a good thing that Negan and Sam don’t mind.

Words: 2145

Warnings: Sexual polyamourous relationship between professor and students, girl on girl action, ffm threesome, daddy kink, unprotected sex, use of toys, masturbation

Author’s Notes: Yes it’s a sequel, no you don’t have to read part one, but if you want to here’s the link. Sam is @grungedaddykinks . Feel free to message me if you have any writing ideas for me.


You never thought you would be involved in a polyamorous relationship but so far things were going pretty well. You weren’t really sure what your relationship status was with neither Sam or Negan but things were getting pretty serious. After the term ended, Negan moved you and Sam into his house. It was very well maintained and a huge upgrade from student housing. You couldn’t even fathom trying to sneak Negan and Sam into your old dorm room. The house was right in the centre of town but far enough away from the university that you didn’t risk running into anyone you knew when the three of you would go out and pick up groceries. Negan had even taken you and Sam on a couple of dates.

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I don’t need more than this...

this is my take on the evening after the wedding venue search…without interruptions… and maybe a bit more… (rated decidedly M) AO3


A few steps upon her deck is all it takes for Killian to feel grounded, the ancient wood beneath him welcoming him as it always has, no matter the realm. Fatigue from a seemingly endless day has him moving slowly, wishing he could go back to the start of it, to the first crack of dawn where he’d been nestled deep between Emma’s thighs as they’d made love in time with the morning birdsong. It had been more languid than the previous night, lover’s hands wrapped and probing as they kissed, nearly bringing each other to completion before he even slipped inside. He’d been unable to stop thinking about doing it all over again as he’d showered, quickly tossing on his clothes to seek her out in their kitchen downstairs. But then, life had intervened, in the form of Snow and his perfect morning had become just a tad less so.

Finding himself at the helm, he looks out onto the open water and lets his mind wander as he watches the moonlight dance atop the gentle tide. Marrying Emma here, while apparently impractical, is still what he would prefer. And Emma, the way she’d looked at him when he’d suggested it, he’d thought he’d seen agreement there in the sparkle of her eyes and felt it in the tightening of her hand around his waist. But then, life had intervened, again, and they’d been whisked all over town and found themselves making promises to wait, something he understands but doesn’t want with his whole heart.

For a man hell bent on revenge and misery for so long, he continuously amazes himself at his apparent capacity to chase happiness now, his course firmly set on a life with Emma no matter how long that life may be. Speaking of, the hairs on the back of his neck rise at the sound of her boots coming closer on the dock and he smiles into the wind, the damp chill ruffling his collar as he turns to welcome his love as she comes aboard.

“You didn’t have to come out here, love. I told you I’d meet you back at home if you called.”

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riverdalewritings  asked:

Number 44 with Jughead and reader!

FOOTBALL GAME? IS that the one where they hit the big, orange ball with the bat?” Your boyfriend is a mass of sharp angles and jutting bones atop your floral-patterned bedding. From the outsider’s vantage, one would say he emanates an air of discomfort—beanie still crowning his head, ragged leather jacket blanketing his shoulders, even his feet remain tucked inside his worn boots—but, to your knowledge, this is his highest state of relaxation. Iron rods have materialized from a decade and a half of misery, guarding his gelid heart, and shielding him from curious outsiders. He says there’s something special about you; you think that’s how you managed to slip through the gates.

“You’re funny.”

“You’re cute.” The reflection of a boy in your vanity mirror winks. Involuntarily do your lips ascend into a pillowy crescent. “But seriously, it’s not my scene.” And then aforementioned lips descend.

Steely optics seek out his tangible form, goading you into pivoting on the balls of your feet. “What does that mean?”

His brows graze his hairline in a terse, first meeting. “It’s not my scene? It’s not my thing? I don’t do school events?” The questionable lilt that punctuates every last statement plucks on your frangible nerves. Of course Jughead doesn’t like school events, one glimpse of him is all the confirmation necessary, but he does like you, and you like school events—a message you attempt to convey with your facial ticks.

He isn’t comprehending.

“O-kay? And I don’t do Nancy Drew and The Hardy Boys, but do I not sit with you at Pop’s every night, going through evidence I don’t give a damn about to help you write your novel?” Baby pink nails cut into a curling palm, and—

—Oh, he’s getting it now.

Jughead tucks pallid digits underneath his cap, massaging the skin usually hidden underneath. “That’s different, Y/N.”

“How so?” you persist.

“Uh, I dunno, ‘cause my shit actually has a purpose?”

It’s not raining, but the cold seeps into your uniform and laces through your bones.

“As opposed to cheerleading, right? That’s what you’re trying to say? The River Vixens’ only purpose is to raise tents in pants?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call that a purpose since it’s a considerably easy feat,” he murmurs through clenched teeth and stiffened jaw. Your spine straightens—an aftershock of, well, shock. You’d find it comedic how his gaze enlarges, his sardonic bite and exactly who was being subjected to it dawning on his cognition, if anger wasn’t coiling around the mass of your stomach. Jughead displays both palms in a bid of surrender. “That came out wrong.”

“There’s a right way for something like that to come out?”

“Y/N.”

Now, you lift a hand. Your boyfriend’s focal point snags on the half-moon indents that desecrate your palm. “No. No.” The wear and tear of six months spent with a boy who isn’t as immersed in your interests as you his finally laps over you. He can’t attend one game, not one for you. “I’m good at cheer. I’m really good.”

The raven-locked boy lopes long legs over the edge of the bed, sitting from his previous lackadaisical position. “I know that.”

“How could you? From mandatory pep rallies? You bring your laptop to those, Jughead.”

He doesn’t disregard this fact, opting to offer a soft “I stop typing when you perform.” He thinks it’s a compromise; you think it’s a cop out.

You swing (literally, swing) into action and your bedroom’s threshold is the end-goal. Jughead tosses himself off the mattress, thrusting himself in front of your mobile form and nearly skittering into the doorframe. Dexterous digits curl around your shoulders, though you think the gesture’s done more for his balance than to immobilize you.

“I’m shit with words,” he begins.

“No, you’re great with words.” Thin lips quirk, and you wish he wasn’t so damn cute. “You’re just a shit boyfriend.” You utilize the loosening of his grip to your advantage, shrugging his hands and his touch and him away from you. “Look, I don’t wanna look like a fool anymore than you do. So here’s your chance, Jug, tell me. Tell me you’re not interested in me anymore. Tell me the reason why I’m giving you my all and you’re giving me half is because you’re sick of me. Tell me, Jughead. Be honest with yourself, be honest with me!”

A beat of silence.

And then two.

“Not interested in you anymore?” he half-echoes, half-sputters. Incredulity paints his sharp features. From knitted brows above cerulean irises down to slightly agape pink pout, Jughead’s disbelief is like a grass stain on white shorts. Unbelievably stubborn and not going anywhere. “Y/N, I am so interested in you it’s sickening. Literally. You make my stomach hurt.” (You hate that a chuckle rumbles from your chest. Jughead grins.) “Honestly, I thought you were into the whole Jason Blossom mystery thing. You love Criminal Minds.”

“It’s not scary when it’s on TV.”

He visibly softens at this, back winding into its comfortable slouch. “No, it’s not. And I’m sorry I never asked you how you felt.”

So you’re not sick of me?

Your gaze follows the swing of his head. “I am the farthest thing from sick of you. You make me sick” —Jughead catches your hand before it could make playful contact with his shoulder “—but I’m not sick of you, no.” He swipes his thumb across the skin pulled taunt against your knuckles. “If anything, I’m a little in love with you.”

This confession, subtle but heavy, sinks its claws into your disposition, altering your expression sans consent. You aren’t aware you’re wearing your perturbation as well as you are your uniform until Jughead says:

“Gee, baby, I hope that’s your ‘I love you, too’ face.”

So he did say the l-word.

“No. No, of course, I just–I never thought you would say it first. Is that–? That’s the first time you’ve said I love you.”

“Yeah, and it doesn’t mean shit unless I start showing you. So from now on whatever you’re into, I’m into. You like cheer, I like cheer. You like watching bad Netflix movies at 2 in the morning, so do I. You like Reggie Mantle, I–well, I don’t have to like everything you like, do I?” The tip of his nose crinkles in jocular distaste. Your own laugh of euphoria rings in your ears.

“Juggie, you mushball.”

Let's Swayze This Mother

Summary:  You, Dean, Sam and Cas decide to search for Gabriel, it does NOT go as planned.

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, Castiel, Gabriel

Word Count: 1931

Warnings: language

A/N:  This is my submission for @ravengirl94 1.5K Challenge.  I had the prompt:  “I make bad decisions when I’m tired.  You’re always tired. Exactly.” which will be bolded in the fic.

Thanks to my MastaBeta @wheresthekillswitch for word checking and so much more!

This may be slightly spoilery if you haven’t seen the season 12 finale.  If you haven’t watched it, keep scrolling.

 

“I can’t believe that he’s been alive the whole time,” Dean says, walking into the bunker library.

You, Sam and Cas are sitting at the far table, books strewn about.  He hands you and Sam a fresh beer before sitting down next to you.

“And you really didn’t know?” Dean asks Cas.

“Didn’t know what?”

“That an angel blade can’t kill an arch angel,” Sam supplies.

“No I did not.”

Cas looks between Dean and Sam as they stare him down.

“So Gabriel’s just been alive and keeping to himself?”

“Well, I can’t say I blame him,” you blurt out.  The three men turn to you in surprise.  “What?  Gabe avoided some major drama.  He didn’t have to play middle man to Lucifer and Chuck or deal with Amara.  I think it was pretty smart.”

“Ok, Y/N’s acceptance of Gabriel’s behavior aside, we need to find him,” Sam says, giving you his signature Sam-face.

“He could definitely help us with the Lucifer, Nephilim, alternate dimension crap,” Dean continues.

“So, how do we find him?” you ask, looking to Cas.

“It will be difficult.  Gabriel is a master at staying hidden if he wants-” Cas starts.

Suddenly the four of you are standing in a dining hall.  Except Dean who’s sitting at the table nearest you, wearing a light pink dress.

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What if I liked it? // Thor x Reader

Pairing: Thor x POC!Reader
Warning: Language, Fluff ‘n’ Smut, Oral sex (m & f receiving) Accidental butt stuff 
Word Count: 1.7k+

Summary: Accidents happen…but what if you’re into it?

A/N: I know. I know. I know. I haven’t posted a fic in forever. I’m sorry. Writer’s block is an absolute cunt and I hate it. I couldn’t even create art without trashing it immediately. But I’m back now. PLUS I SAW THAT DAMN GIF OF THOR COVERED IN LIGHTNING AND I’M CURRENTLY ON THE VERGE OF COMBUSTION. So…let’s see how much you like this fic I cooked up for @emilyevanston CAH Challenge. [#1: Surprise finger in the Anus with Thor]

Originally posted by cheers-mrhiddleston

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Under Pressure - [Eggsy Unwin X Reader]

[ALRIGHT LOVES! HERE WE GO! Hope you enjoy this one, I of course always have fun writing Eggsy ;.; This one is kinda smutty/angsty but not really graphic? I’m still easing into my smut lmao <3

Pairing: Eggsy X Rader

Words: 2.4

Warnings: CURSING. Mild smut? 

About: You and Eggsy are in Kentucky trying to find out just why the hell you were there… One too many Kentucky Martini’s ends up opening a door that you’re not really sure you want closed in the first place. 

**NOTE: This is during K2 (sorta), but has no direct spoilers. It is literally just after what you can see in the trailers, and I name no things/people directly, etc aside from those you can see in the trailer and YOU of course :D**

Read on Ao3!]

Things had been a little awkward since the night before. Alright, more than a little awkward. But how could they not be after… that. It was easy to ignore your feelings when you thought they were unrequited, but how could you possibly ignore them anymore after last night? You may not have had the best track record for decision making, but this was definitely way up there in your list of what-the-hell-did-I-do’s.

You fucking kissed Eggsy— very ardently for the record, and as you recall he kissed you back. Like… a lot.

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Embers: three

Thanks to everyone who sent me messages and were so encouraging as I’ve struggled to continue my stories. The ideas are there but the time and emotional presence I need have eluded me as of late. Here’s the next chapter of Embers. Thanks to @takemeawaytocamelot for being beta for this story. Special thanks to @outlandishchridhe for double checking this piece for medical accuracy. 

A full compilation of my works can be found on my home page!


Beep… beep…

Claire could hear breathing echoing loudly inside her head. Labored, but there, along with the pulse of a quick but steady heartbeat. She followed the blood from her heart through her veins, vaguely surprised at the feeling of occupation as she made her way through the familiar inner workings of her body.

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Someone Like Me

Summary:  A bad date and a bad night for the reader take a turn for the better thanks to Sam.

Characters: Sam x Reader

Word Count:  1348

Warnings:  smut (fingering, unprotected sex), fluff

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble for my lovely friend @arryn-nyxx but Sam decided to take his time.  I love you Arryn!

This is unbeta’d all mistakes are mine alone.

Originally posted by findyourownhappyending

 

You slip into the bunker, hoping that Sam and Dean are otherwise occupied and you’ll be able to make it to your room unnoticed.  Unfortunately this night is determined to fuck you and Sam is sitting in the library, head buried in a book, when you walk in.

“Hey, Y/N.”  He looks up, dimples popping out as he smiles.  “How’d the date go?”

Stupid, handsome jerk, you think to yourself.  Why does he have to be so handsome and happy to see me?  He should only be this happy to see me if he thought of me as a woman and not a sister.  Ok, my mood is definitely in the bad territory, better get to my room before I say something I’ll regret.

“Fine,” you mumble, quickly continuing down the hall.

You’re praying he’ll go back to whatever he was reading, but his footsteps sound behind you as he calls for you.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up.”

“I’m really tired, Sam,” you say, keeping your head down.

He reaches you then, the scent of sandalwood and mint filling your nose.  You sigh inwardly, if only you could find someone like him, but there is no one like him.

He crooks his finger under your chin so you have to look at him and when your eyes meet his, his face falls.  His smile is gone, replaced by a furrowed brow, concern darkening his hazel eyes.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”  You try to look down, but his finger keeps your chin up.

“Red-rimmed eyes isn’t nothing, Y/N.  What happened?”

You spin, crossing the doorway to your room with Sam at your heels.  He closes the door behind him as you sink down onto your bed.

“Can we talk about this later?  I just want to curl up and go to sleep.”

“Did the date go that badly?  I thought you were thinking about breaking up with him?”

“I was.  But he broke up with me,” you sniff.

“Then…”  The bed sinks as he sits next to you.

“The rejection still hurts, Sam.  Even if I didn’t want to be with him.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Why can’t I just find someone already?  What’s wrong with me?  Either I like them and they don’t like me or they like me and I don’t like them.  I give up!”  You throw your hands up in exasperation; you’re nothing if not dramatic.  Why can’t I find someone like you?  And you really want to say it out loud.  You’d jump at the chance to be with him.  You know he doesn’t feel that way about you, but it doesn’t stop a little piece of you from hoping.

“Maybe you just need to look at people you haven’t thought about before.”

“What do you mean?  Like who?”

“Like me.”

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