sorry this is probably as smooth as i can get it

Sheriff Knows Best

Stiles/Derek, G, 2K words, Sheriff POV, Coffeeshop AU, matchmaker!Sheriff

(Credit for the title to @cobrilee!)

This is an expansion of the following idea, written by the lovely @artemis69:

the coffee!AU, where John goes to the same coffee shop every day, and there is this very grumpy, quiet barista that always makes him amazing coffee and keep the best pastries for him. And one day the Sheriff learns that Derek is the one to bake them all, so he decides: this will be my son in law, I need a reason to have this man in my family for at least forty to fifty years. Then he matchmakes with no subtility whatsoever, basically offering his only son on a silver plate, Stiles spluttering all the way (but he takes Derek’s number anyway because the guy is just amazingly cute)

John’s on his regular morning stroll when he stops in his tracks and takes in the brand-new coffee shop, complete with a banner advertising their opening day. The little corner space has been boarded up for over a year, and John had no idea it was opening today.

Any new businesses are a boon for Beacon Hills, especially family-run ones like this one is rumored to be, so John ducks inside. It’s warm and homey, and there’s a pair of young dark-haired people behind the counter, close enough in features that they’re probably siblings. The quiet bickering points that direction, too.

They stop, though, when they see the Sheriff—the uniform tends to have that effect—and he pastes on his public servant smile. “Hi there. I saw this place was open and wanted to come on in and introduce myself. Sheriff John Stilinski.”

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” the woman says, holding out her hand for a shake. A nice strong grip—John likes this girl already. “I’m Laura Hale, and I own this place with my brother Derek, our resident grumpy barista-slash-baker.”

Derek rolls his eyes at Laura, but his smile to John is genuine, if small. “Hi, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, son,” he says, perusing the case full of tempting sugary treats. “You made these?”

He nods. “Can I get you anything?”

John hums. “A medium coffee, and…any one of these delicious-looking goodies. You pick. Just don’t tell my son,” he adds, and Derek looks up at him.

“Your son?”

“I have slightly elevated cholesterol,” he says, stressing the word. “Nothing to worry about, honestly. But he polices my diet. I don’t think he knows about this place yet, though, so this is great.”

Derek hums. His tongs hover over a muffin—lemon poppyseed, it looks like—before moving to another one. Raspberry-almond, according to the sign, and well, John isn’t picky. Derek drops it into a little bag and hands it over.

“Happy to help,” he says.

John thanks him and opens the bag. Laura’s still pouring his coffee, but it smells so damn good that he can’t resist.

“Wow,” he says, his mouth full. “This is delicious.”

Derek looks quietly proud, and Laura claps him on the shoulder as she reaches over to hand John his coffee. “On the house, today, Sheriff,” she says. “Thanks for stopping by.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he promises.


“Thanks, Nina,” John says dryly, leaning back so she can put his plate in front of him.

“You’re welcome, Sheriff,” she says with a friendly smile, ignoring his stink eye.

Stiles just grins at both of them and digs into his French toast. He insists on having their weekly father-son breakfast at Paulie’s Diner because no matter what John orders, Nina will only bring him an egg-white omelet with a dry English muffin. Stiles must have some serious blackmail or be paying her off somehow, and John is, he has to admit, grudgingly impressed.

“Don’t look so bummed out, Pops,” Stiles says, around a mouthful of what’s surely syrup-drenched deliciousness. “At least I let you have turkey bacon.”

“It’s not the same,” he says grumpily, poking at it. “But at least I’m getting a steady stream of baked goods now.”

Stiles glares at him. “Are you serious? From where? I thought I had paid everyone off.”

He knew it. “I’m not telling you,” he says, a little displeased with how childish he sounds.

“Fine,” Stiles says, sniffing. “I’ll figure it out, you know I will.”

He will, John knows. Goddamn, he loves his kid, even if his life goal seems to be depriving John from any and all delicious food. “And speaking of, I met someone the other day,” he starts, and Stiles gasps theatrically, his hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“Is this you crapping all over my dream of having Melissa as my stepmom?”

John sighs at the reminder. Melissa is…well, she seems happy with that Argent guy. Whatever. He’s not bitter.

“Not for me, Jesus,” he says, shaking his head. “For you.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles says, slumping back in the booth. “Eye roll” is too mild, John thinks. It’s more of a whole head roll. “Seriously, Dad, I’m only 25. You don’t have to marry me off quite yet. You’ll get your grandchildren someday, I promise. Stop trying to set me up with people.”

“I’m just trying to be helpful!” John protests. “He seems nice.”

And makes really good treats, he adds in his head. That’ll be a good trait for a son-in-law.

“And who exactly is he?”

John pauses. “I met him at the aforementioned undisclosed location.” 

Stiles snorts. “Find out if he actually likes dudes, then get back to me.”

“Okay,” he says seriously, and Stiles grimaces.

“No, Dad, don’t actually—”

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Humans are Weird: Seasons

I was thinking about how Earth is probably one of the rare planets with seasonal climates, due to its wonky tilted axis. So Earth has a crazy variety of climates and weather patterns, and humans have just learned how to deal, much to the confusion of everybody else. 

This was turning into a headcanon about how humans are bizarrely prepared for anything, and then I had a thought- Space Cruises

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→ all that is gold (m)

Originally posted by chimtae


Sub!BTS collab

pairing → Taehyung x Reader

genre → roommate!au + sugar baby!au, smut, angst

warnings sub!taehyung, skype sex, masturbation, orgasm denial, possessiveness, slight breath play, oral sex, dirty talk, thigh riding, tae ends up sort of a switch? idk

☆ word count → 11.2k

☆ summary → As a college student struggling to make ends meet, Taehyung resorts to a less than ethical method to satisfy his appetite for expensive treats. The last thing he wants is for you to find out how he acquires the Gucci in his closet… however this proves to be difficult when you are his roommate.

or : Taehyung is a sugar baby and somehow thinks he can keep this a secret


☆ a/n → ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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anonymous asked:

Could you possibly do a hc where Dan is at a friends house and Phil (his friends older brother) happens to be home with them since their parents aren't home. Dans friend has to go to the store and get something and Phil decides to have fun with his little brothers friend. You can make them any age you'd like.

~ this is shit but! it’s something! ~
~ dan is 16 and phil is 17, almost 18 ~
~ phil’s brother is named jordan bc idk ~


Dan knocked on the door, frowning and biting his lip. It was a bad habit he had developed, especially when he was nervous or particularity anxious.

This was his third time going to his friend Jordan’s house, and he wasn’t any less nervous. Jordan was nice enough, he sat by Dan at lunch when no one else had and talked to him about Pokémon. Dan was just scared he was going to do something wrong. He always did. He didn’t want to lose another friend.

Dan heard the lock click and the door swung open; his eyes widened.

A boy answered the door, a boy he hadn’t seen before. He had messy black hair, sex hair basically, and his blue eyes sparkled when they landed on Dan. A cocky smirk seemed to be plastered to his face.

“Hey,” he said, leaning on the door frame and looking Dan over. Dan crossed his arms; it felt oddly sexual. “You’re Dan, right? You’re cute. Jordan didn’t tell me you were so cute.”

“Phil!” Came a shrill voice from behind him, and Jordan pushed him to the side, offering Dan an apologetic look. “Sorry about that, that’s my stupid brother. Come on in.”

Dan nodded, pressing his lips together and letting Jordan pull him inside, avoiding Phil’s predatory gaze as he passed.

Jordan led him to the kitchen, leaning against the counter and smiling at him.

“My parents aren’t home, they left me with Phil.” He rolled his eyes. “They needed some ‘time alone’, they said…”

“They’re probably fucking!” Phil shouted from the other room.

“I was just making food…” he mumbled, ignoring him, a bit of ginger hair falling in his eyes, and he brushed it away. “But I think we’re out of ramen.”

“I ate it!” Came Phil’s voice from the other room, along with a laugh. Jordan cursed under his breath.

“But I’m really hungry and he ate all the rest of the food too…” he continued, glaring at the door. “So I think I need to go to the store. Wanna come?” He raised his eyebrows hopefully. Dan was highly aware of Phil who had just entered, leaning against the door frame.

“Yeah Dan,” he started, smirking, his eyes scoping Dan out. “Wanna come?”

Jordan glanced at him nervously, chuckling awkwardly. Dan’s eyes widened.

“Er, I think I’ll stay here, I brought some homework and stuff so I should be fine.” Dan flashed him a smile, biting his lip. Jordan shrugged.

“Alright then,” he mumbled, moving to grab his jacket from a hook on the kitchen wall. “I’ll be right back. Phil,” he turned to his brother, who raised his eyebrows. “Don’t sexually harass my friend.”

The door slammed, and he was gone.

Dan wasn’t going to lie, the sexual tension was unbearable with Phil watching him like he wanted to eat him. Dan bit his lip, glancing at his feet.

“Your name’s Dan, right?” He asked, stepping a bit closer.

“Yeah,” Dan mumbled.

“Well my name’s Phil,” he said, stepping forward again. He checked his wrist, frowning at his watch. “The name you’ll be screaming in about… I’d say about two minutes.”

Dan’s eyes widened as Phil chuckled, drawing his finger up Dan’s jaw. He leaned down, kissing just below Dan’s ear, as if to just test his reaction. He smirked when Dan moaned softly, tilting his head back.

“Yeah,” Phil breathed. “I’m gonna cover that pretty neck of yours in marks.”

“B-But,” Dan’s voice broke, and he backed away a little. “You’re Jordan’s brother… I don’t think he’d-”

“Why does he matter?” Phil muttered, brushing some hair away from Dan’s face and frowning.

“Because… I don’t think he’d like it if I-”

“Babe,” Phil laughed, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. I want you, he doesn’t control me. I fuck who I want.”

Dan tensed up as he spoke, Phil was leaning closer until their noses were practically touching. Dan’s breath caught. Phil slid his hands down Dan’s side, admiring his shape and kneading his ass in both of his hands.

“Dan…” he started slowly, offering him a smile. “If I kiss you, you have to promise you won’t run away.”

Dan thought about it. He had an attractive guy practically feeling him up, asking to kiss him, in his friends kitchen. An attractive guy practically two years older than him, Jordan had said his brother was almost eighteen. Dan felt himself nod slowly.

Phil smirked, pulling Dan forward roughly by the hips, kissing him on the mouth.

Dan whimpered into the kiss, somewhat surprised by the force in Phil’s movements, but soon he melted into Phil’s lips and his hands gliding over Dan’s curves.

Phil was good at kissing, better than good. His mouth slid easily against Dan’s, and he took dominance immediately. He reached up with one hand to touch Dan’s face, the other still squeezing his ass.

Dan jumped forward when Phil slipped his hand down the back of his jeans, so now the front of their bodies were pressed together. Phil chuckled, kneading Dan’s flesh, and Dan buried his face in Phil’s neck. He was incredibly hard, and he was positive Phil could feel it.

“Fuck you’re pretty,” Phil breathed, kissing down Dan’s jaw to his throat messily.

“Promise?” Dan giggled. Phil shook his head, in awe.

“Yes, baby boy.”

Phil picked Dan up in one smooth movement, making Dan gasp and wrap his limbs around him, grasping at his shirt. Phil walked them backwards, slamming Dan against the wall.

He kissed him again, more messy and desperate this time, and Dan moaned against his mouth.

“Can we go to your room or something?” Dan gasped, gaining back his confidence. “I don’t really fancy Jordan finding us out here…”

“Yeah,” Phil agreed, breathing heavily. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He set Dan down, tugging him after him by the sleeve to the hallway. They didn’t get ten steps before Phil was shoving him against the wall again, attacking his neck and jaw and mouth. Dan moaned loudly, grasping desperately at his shoulders.

“In here,” Phil mumbled, pushing Dan through a door and pulling him forward by his hips. Dan looked around as Phil nipped at his throat, frowning.

“Isn’t this… Jordan’s room?” Dan asked, pausing to mutter a ‘fuck’ under his breath. Phil smirked.

“Yeah, but i figure we’re doing him a favor. This is probably the only time anything remotely like this happens in here…” Phil laughed, pushing his hands under Dan’s shirt. “Plus I couldn’t wait,” he added huskily.

Dan let Phil push him back on the bed, because honestly, he couldn’t wait either.

Phil tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, before crawling over Dan. He pushed Dan’s legs open, leaning over him so their crotches were rubbing together, slowly grinding down on him and drawing a moan out of Dan’s mouth.

Phil grinned, kissing him deeply and pulling at his shirt. Dan lifted him arms, letting him take it off. Phil sat up.

“I’ll be right back,” he said quickly, practically falling off the bed. Dan giggled. “Take those jeans off.”

Dan did as he said, discarding his jeans somewhere besides the bed. He felt a pang of guilt about doing this in Jordan’s bed, but it vanished when Phil got back, reduced down to his own boxers and holding a condom and a bottle of lube.

He kissed up Dan’s inner thigh as he crawled up the bed again, making Dan shudder and grip the sheets.

“Baby boy,” Phil breathed, his words brushing Dan’s neck. “Are you sure you want this?”

The fact that Phil was asking shot affection through Dan’s body, and he nodded.

“Yes,” he muttered, tugging Phil’s boxers down slightly. “Yes, god, yes Phil.”

“Good,” Phil said, grinning and helping Dan take his boxers off. “Good.”

Dan’s own boxers were off in seconds, and Phil was brushing his thumb over his entrance.

Phil leaned forward, kissing him deeply, all lips and tongue and heat, as he pushed a finger into him. Dan shuddered and arched his back, a strangled whine falling from his mouth.

“Shh,” Phil whispered, peppering light kisses all over Dan’s face and watching him carefully. “Shh, baby, it’s okay, you’re doing such a good job.”

He kneaded Dan’s thigh gently, adding another finger and grinning as Dan started grinding back on him.

“Such a good boy,” he muttered, pumping his fingers, curling every now and then and making Dan fall apart beneath him.

Soon enough he was pulling them out, rolling on the condom and lubing himself up. Dan watched through heavy lidded eyes, letting out little hums and whines of pleads.

“Baby,” Phil mumbled, pressing his tip to his entrance. “Don’t hold back, alright? Want you to moan for me, want you to scream my name like a slut.”

Dan could hardly nod before Phil was slamming into him, bottoming out with one thrust. Dan gasped, a loud strangled moan ripping from his throat. He grabbed at Phil’s form, desperate for something to hold on to.

Phil groaned, long and steady, as he began to push in and out, biting down on Dan’s shoulder.

“Fuck, Dan, you’re so tight…” he gasped, his stomach tensing up and heaving from his heavy breathing. Dan whined, throwing his head back.

“Harder,” he breathed.

“Are you sure?”

“Please, yes!”

Phil nodded, watching Dan’s face as he snapped his hips roughly, and Dan screamed.

“Philphilphil FUCK!”

Phil moaned, sucking on his neck and fucking into him harder. “That’s it, princess, scream my name. That’s it baby.”

Dan’s head was going foggy, all he could comprehend was YES, yes, god he felt so good. Phil’s hips hitting his, burying his cock so deep into him… fuck, it was heaven.

“Dan,” Phil said, his voice strained. “Fuck fuck fuck, Dan, so good, I’m gonna cum.” He took Dan’s cock in his hand, jerking him off, incredibly fueled by Dan’s noises and the way he was arching his back and throwing his head on the pillow.

“Ah-” Dan gasped, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m c-close, I’m close Phil, shit-”

“That’s it baby, meet my thrusts. Such a good boy, meet daddy’s thrusts… just like that.”

Phil froze when he heard the door open, the creaking of the bedsprings and Dan’s moans slightly messing with what he could hear, so maybe he was imagining it. But-

“Phil?” Jordan’s voice called. “Dan? Guys?”

Phil slapped a hand over Dan’s mouth, not stilling his moments completely, but slowing down. He knew he should stop, try to get them presentable, but he was so close… He grinded his cock into the boy beneath him thoroughly, trying to get him there through going deep instead of hard and fast. Dan’s noises were still clear, although muffled.

Phil replaced his hand with his mouth, kissing Dan to keep him quiet, groaning as he felt Dan moan against his mouth.

“Phil? Why are your jeans in the hallway…?”

Dan whined, cum streaking his stomach and his back arching, and Phil kissed him harder, letting go into the condom.

Phil pulled out quickly, discarding of it in a wastebasket and pulling Dan up. He dressed him as fast as he could, getting Dan to help slightly, but not much. He pulled on his own shirt, grabbing a pair of Jordan’s jeans and pulling them on, even though they were clearly too tight.

“Phil…?” Jordan pushed open the door, frowning at them suspiciously. “What are you doing in my room?”

Phil smiled at him. “Oh, just messing with your shit. Dan really wanted to see your drawer of sex toys.”

Jordan’s eyes widened and he glared at Phil. “I do not have a drawer of sex toys!”

Phil shrugged, standing up and punching his brother’s shoulder. “Whatever you say buddy.”

“Why were your jeans in the hallway?”

Phil shrugged, trying to seem casual. “Must have dropped them when I did the laundry. And…” he looked down at Jordan’s jeans he was wearing. “Mine must have shrunk…?”

Jordan frowned, but nodded slowly.

Dan stood, practically falling but Phil leaned forward and caught him at the last second. Dan laughed nervously.

“Feet fell asleep,” he mumbled. “Happens a lot.”

“Mhm,” Jordan said, staring at him suspiciously, but like he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “Alright then, well, Dan, Arianna invited us to lunch so…”

“Yeah! Uh, yeah, let’s… do that.”

Phil grabbed Dan’s butt as he walked by, and winked when Dan glared at him.

“You know, I like this kid. You should invite him around more often.”


~
TWO DAYS LATER
~

“PHIL?! WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A USED CONDOM IN MY BIN!”

Good Girls Go Bad

Set in the 40’s. Y/N was your stereotypical girl next door, growing up in the apartment right across the hall from James Buchanan Barnes. She had always been the shy, reserved girl; she was the complete opposite of the enigmatic ladies man. Despite their proximity, she was sure that he didn’t even know she existed. What happens when they run into one another during a night out on the town? Is just one night all it really takes? 

Word Count: 3,408

Warnings: swearing, smut


Originally posted by evanstansource


You sighed, adjusting your dress as you gazed into the mirror. Even though it was still rather conservative, you couldn’t help but notice that it was more revealing than you were used to. The neckline plunged rather low, the collar fastened with a bow that drew attention to your cleavage. The waist was cinched, showing off your figure. Paired with the red heels that your friends had chosen for you, you were looking like a regular bombshell. Your friends had insisted that you go out with them tonight. You had turned them down too many times. They said that now, of all days, you had to accompany them. The newest army recruits would be shipping out tomorrow, and it was sure to be a lively night.

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sad boy + justin foley

plot : after his mum’s new boyfriend kicks him out, Justin only has one thing to do

word count : 1403

notes : for two people who wanted Justin Foley but I forgot their accounts so I’m sorry for not tagging

+++

Running out of his house, bag slung over his shoulder, Justin wiped his wet eyes on the sleeve of his varsity jacket, only for the tears to be replaced with new ones. He didn’t stop until he couldn’t run anymore, legs aching, throat burning. He had no idea where he was, he couldn’t tell with his blurry vision. It was almost nightfall, not a person In sight. He fell to his knees, bag dropping with a loud thump, as a quiet sob passed his lips.

There was one thing Justin could think of doing. One person he wanted to talk to now, he needed to talk to right now. He reached into his pocket, hands trembling as he did so, retrieving his phone. He somehow found your contact, a picture of your beaming face on his screen, the image alone calming him down the tiniest bit. He shakily pressed the dial button, holding his breath while waiting for you to pick up. Begging you to answer.

One ring. Two ring.

More tears gathered in his eyes.

Three ring.

You were probably busy. You didn’t need him as a burden.

Four ring.

More and more tears fell as another sob racked his body.

“Hey”

The world stopped. Justin’s voice was caught in his throat, no words forming.

“Justin? You there?”

He couldn’t help the cry he let out of his mouth.

“Justin?! Are you okay?”

The sound of your panicked voice, filled Justin’s heart. You cared, you were the only one who cared.

“Y-Y/N”

It was only a whisper, something you shouldn’t have caught but you did.

“Justin? What happened? What’s wrong? What did they do?”

“I- I can’t. I-”

The words wouldn’t come out, as much as Justin tried.

“Where are you? I’m coming to pick you up” you stated.

Justin heard the jingling of keys through the phone.

“I- I don’t know. There’s houses and- and a-” he stuttered, trying to speak through the suffocation he was feeling.

“Justin. Stop. Breathe in. Breathe out. Now tell me, can you see a street sign anywhere?”

He did as you instructed, following your smooth, familiar voice.

“Risely Avenue” he said after a while.

“Stay where you are, I’m coming. And Justin?”

He blinked back more tears as he listened to you talk.

“Yeah?”

“Everything will be okay”

It was a mere 10 minutes before your familiar car drove up the street, headlights illuminating the otherwise dark road. Justin looked at the ground as he stood, ashamed to look at you in his current state. He heard the click of the car door opening, followed the by the clicking of your shoes on the gravel road. He managed to look up, eyes meeting with your warm ones. You stood right in front of him, inches away. You held your arms out and in less than a second, Justin fell into your arms.

“Hey”

He swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat.

“Hey” he replied, his voice a tiny squeak.

You pulled away, much to Justin’s dismay. You picked up his bag from the floor and he didn’t have the energy to protest, taking his hand in yours, you walked back to your car, settling them in. And then you drove.

“Y/N”

You turned to look at your boyfriend of more than a year for a second before fixing your eyes back on the road.

“I- uhm I-”

“You don’t have to explain Justin. Not now anyway”

You pressed your lips together, gently placing a hand on his knee while keeping the other on the steering wheel. He flinched at the sudden contact, but your hand stayed where it was.

“I’m sorry, I just I-”

He immediately started to apologise, even though you thought nothing of it and completely understood.

“Sh, Justin. Just relax, you’re with me now” you assured, running a thumb across his jean clad knee.

He nodded, swallowing thickly, shutting his eyes and focusing on your soft touch. You flicked your eyes to him, watching his long eyelashes fall on his cheekbones. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, dried tears on his cheeks.

Soon enough, you reached your house, parking the car in the driveway. Justin opened his eyes, blinking a few times. You silently hopped out, grabbing his bag from the backseat before opening the passenger door.

“You don’t have to do all this” Justin mumbled.

“Come on” you urged, ignoring his statement.

The two of you walked into your house, the warmth engulfing you both. You took his hand in yours, leading him to the spare bedroom.

“Have you eaten yet?” you questioned.

Justin shook his head, like you expected.

“Well, you know where the showers are, I’m going to heat up dinner okay?”

He nodded, looking at the floor. You could tell he was on the verge of another round of tears. You frowned, walking up to him and wearing your arms around his neck, placing a kiss on his cheek. You felt him smile, even if it was a small one.

You stepped away, smiling at him softly, before leaving the room. You walked to your kitchen, getting the leftovers from Robert out to heat them up. Nobody should be treated how Justin is. Justin didn’t call you about this, usually going to Bryce’s house or Alex’s but not yours. He never wanted to bother you with his problems, thinking he would be a burden to you. It took Justin almost a year before he even told you about his condition at home and that was only after Zach accidentally mentioned it.

You took the food out of the microwave, placing it on the dinner table while waiting for him to arrive. Your parents were big business people, meaning they were out of town a lot of the time, so they bought you your own little house to stay in which they occasionally visited.

Ten minutes later, the sound of water running stopped, meaning Justin was out of the shower. Another ten minutes later, Justin padded into the dining room, where you were waiting for him. His hair was dripping wet, droplets trailing down the back of his neck. His eyes were redder, even puffier while his bottom lip quivered. What you noticed now was the significant bruises that had formed around his neck and the sight of all of this made you shatter a little on the inside. He tugged at his sleeves, still looking at the floor. He had changed into a pair of sweats and a t shirt.

You went to him, pressing a slight kiss on his shaking lips. You gripped his jaw with a feather-like touch, tilting it upwards to expose the purple and blue skin of his neck. You gingerly touched the large bruises that were vaguely in the shape of fingerprints. He gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing under your thumb. You sighed and pulled away.

“Sit, Justin”

He listened to your words, taking a seat next to you. He picked up his fork, staring at his food with no intention of eating it.

“I’m not that hungry right now Y/N, I’m sorry for making you go to all this trouble-”

“It’s fine Justin, I understand. Want to go to bed?” you offered.

He nodded, standing up from the table with you following suit. You put his plate back in the fridge before taking his hand and walking back to bed. You got in first, opening your arms and inviting him to lay with you. He complied immediately, putting his head on your shoulder, intertwining your legs.

“You have to report them Justin. Those bruises… they look bad. It’s the worse it’s gotten so far” you gulped, your own heart becoming heavy with the thought.

“I can’t Y/N, I’ll be shipped off to some foster home with people I don’t even know and I might even have to move away. I’m not risking that”

You nodded, it was a hard decision for anyone.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine”

As the words left his mouth, you felt wetness on your shoulder.

“Oh Justin, you don’t need to act strong now. It’s okay to be human” you whispered into his ear.

And those were all it took before he broke down for the third time that evening. His body shook violently as you held him tight.

“It’ll all be okay Justin. I promise”

And in that moment, Justin realised that the only real place he felt safe was with you.
All It Takes

Bucky x Reader

Summary: Based off THIS post of mine, which surprisingly got 1.8k notes aha, and just bc I love imagining Bucky jerkin’ off with his metal arm.

Word Count: 800-ish  | Rating: R [NSFW]

Warnings: SMUT. Masturbation, one nsfw gif

A/N: I’m still on a break. I was just a wee bit horny

Oh look, it’s 12.54 am. That means its my favorite soldier’s birthday!!! Happy Birthday, Bucky Barnes. Congratulations on surviving on this planet for a whole damn century.

I love Bucky to death. ❤

P.S. sorry if there are any typos, i wrote this on my phone

Masterlist here 


*gifs are not mine!

It’s simply just the sexual tension between you and Bucky that gets him hard as rock in literally less than a minute. And he has to get himself off, before he loses control over his actions. Your images flash across his mind, immediately ceasing any activity he previously tried focusing on.

Just the thought of you, your body, the way you’d bite your bottom lip - purposely or not - is enough to turn him on.

That’s what makes it so difficult for him to be around you. He’d think of kissing you, leaving you breathless, take his time with you all night long, leave you on the edge every time, just to enjoy see you fall apart, make him do things to you in bed, you’d never forget.

But that’s all he could do, imagine. Because he’s far too much of a chicken to actually admit his damned feelings for you.

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Suga Daddy: Part 7

Suga Daddy: Part 7

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Words: 9.6k

Genre: Smut, angst, dirty talk, dom!Yoongi

There is another gif in the story that describes the moment I was portraying. Ignore Namjoon’s name on it, lol. Anyway, enjoy :) 

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

You had never been more excited to get out of dance practice. Yugyeom had been making fun of you the entire time because you were so out of it. You were trying to hide that from Jane because you were slightly messing up. “Shut up,” you pushed Yugyeom with a laugh, “Some of us are trying to focus.”

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You Deserve Punishment (M)

Description: You never wanted to see them again, you couldn’t bare facing them in the eyes. Not after what you witnessed. It would forever haunt you. Why? Because you discovered their dirty little secret; Park Jimin was the lover of Min Yoonji, who was actually a man.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader x Yoongi

Genre: Smut (M), angst, university!au

Word Count: 6,350

A/N: Extreme vulgar language use. Name calling, and heavy dom/sub undertones. There is also a lot of yaoi (boyxboy) action. Graphic descriptions of sex (oral, etc…) This is a mature read! You have been warned!

Originally posted by bellahasjams

Never in a million years, would you have expected to walk into a full 500 student lecture, only to easily spot the two people you never wanted to see again. There was a big lump held in your throat, as you quickly ducked your head down to find an empty seat. Unfortunately for you, the only empty seat you found was exactly a row behind these certain individuals. Trying to sit down as quietly as possible, you mentally screamed, You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Since when did they come here?!? How could I not have known?!?

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lavender hues (m)

fantasy au (reposted)

pairing: jimin | reader
genre: angst and fluff
word count: 13.094
warnings: sexual content 
author’s note: previously named ‘if these wings could fly’ in my old blog. I’m just reposting it with a new name. :)


Beauty. If someone asked you to define it, your mouth would probably go dry and your heart would flutter yearningly, freezing as the words turn heavy in your mind and dissolve in the tip of your tongue.

Beauty is short-lived but ubiquitous, a transparent but shimmering liquid running in rivulets through hidden alleyways and veiled landscapes that the eyes don’t notice unless they look twice. Beauty is found in the unexpected, in the withheld words of the timid poets, in longing stares and authentic, carefree laughs. Beauty is found in what the eyes can see, in what the ears can hear, in the deep reverie of the colorful minds and in the dreams held close to the heart.

Beauty is fleeting and you’re unable to grasp it. All your life you’ve chased it, extended your hands towards it, longed to touch it with your fingertips. But your steps are slow and your hands are ungifted, and you can only imagine what it would be like to create beauty, to have the hands of those that are able to reflect love and joy and pain in books and paintings.

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.... And your intelligence score is 15?

I’m currently one of the 6 DMs in a 36 player mega-campaign, following (loosely) the Tyranny of Dragons campaign world. The players have mostly split up into about four parties, which are each following their own trail to track down the cult. Three of them are off doing their own thing, but one of them is in the city of Elturel and has decided to split up in order to cover more ground. Thankfully, we have enough DMs to cover them.

Then, a Dwarf Wizard decides to wander off, and I, as the last DM without a group at the moment, am sent to cover him.

For brief context, our version of Elturel has a tower beneath the town’s massive orb of undead-killing light, a temple of Sune. Her symbol is a candle, it now looks like a giant candle, all good. So, the dwarf decides to go there. 

PC: I’m going to head to the tower, all the way to the top.

Me: Cool, well, you get most of the way up, but there’s no obvious access to the roof. 

He then snags a nearby cleric and begins to ask him about the orb of light.

PC: “So, what’s causing that light?

NPC: “The Holy Light of Sune, it is light born from her magic.”

PC: “Yes, but where is it coming from?”

NPC: “… Her magic.”

PC: “But what’s in the middle?”

NPC: “Nothing is in the middle.”

PC: “Can I go up and take a look?’

NPC: "No, you can not study, prod, or examine our holy site to sate your own curiosity, you damned irreverent mage.”

PC: “So, can you tell me what’s casting the light?”

To save quite a bit of headache, he eventually had it explained to him in dead simple terms that there was just a floating ball of light, there was no crystal or sun or whatever, it was much like the light spell he himself could cast. The cleric walked away very annoyed. Being a dwarf character, he then got interested in the stone of the tower.

PC: “What’s the stone?”

Me: It’s something you’ve never seen. Smooth, joinless, white, almost like wax or bone.

PC: “But I have stone-cunning, and-”

Me: Yes, I know. You don’t recognize this. It’s definitely not local stone, and it might be unnatural.

Eventually, he also managed to get that it was made by magic, when another cleric repeated the story of the tower he had been told earlier. Kelemvor and Sune made the place together, so the Candle was brought into being by Sune, and lit by the pair, creating a light that destroyed undead. I thought he would be satisfied by this answer. I was incorrect.

PC: I want to cast identify on the tower!

Me: Roll intelligence. *Rolls* That would probably piss them off, given they told you flat out not to fuck with this place. 

PC: “Right, I’m going to hide somewhere against a wall then cast Identify on it!”

Me: “Roll Perception to find a place and Stealth to hide there.”

PC: *Rolls* *Nat 20 and Un-natural 20 on Stealth*

Me: “… Alright, so, you hide under a table with a large tablecloth in part of the library. When you cast Identify, you are suddenly near-blinded by an incredible white glow coming from every direction. The outline of a winged, angelic figure is all you can make out, which speaks to you in a thunderous voice in a language you do not know. The gist is there, however. "Do a stop it.”

PC: I cast Detect Thoughts on it!

Me: … I’m sorry, what?

PC: What is it thinking?

To summarize: This clown, a third level wizard, proceeded to cast Detect Thoughts on an unprepared-for-that-level-of-dumbfuckery Solar. A CR: 21 Angel of a major god. Due to how the spell worked, there was nothing actually stopping him from hearing the thoughts. The end result was being dropped to 1 HP, at 5 Levels of Exhaustion, and he was Blinded, Deafened, Stunned and Unconcious for nearly 18 hours after. He was only awoken when a priest happened to make the perception check to stumble across him, after his party had come and gone looking for him. He comes to, surrounded by a lot of clerics and several paladins, all of whom look quite pissed. 

Paladin: “What in the goddess’s name are you doing under there?”

He looks around blearily, and decides to repeat the words the Solar said to him. There’s a pause, and then an old elf pushes his way to the front. 

NPC: “Where did you hear that?”

PC: “The god told me that after I cast identify on the tower.”

NPC: “… That means, in Celestial, "Meddle not in affairs beyond your Ken, upstart mortal.” I’m sorry, you were doing WHAT to our tower?“ 

He then proceeded to explain what he had been doing. 

Long story short, he is now considered a Heretic and Defiler by the temple, was thrown out the front doors, and several of the game’s clerics are considering challenging him to duels of honor for his sheer ineptitude. Meanwhile, the rest of the party managed to accomplish the mission they were in town for.

What he had been doing had nothing in any way to do with their job.  

Zach asking you to sleep over at his house - Part 2

A/N: Sorry on such a long wait for this imagine. I hope that it was worth it though. Enjoy my lovelies:)


The final bell rings, signalling the end of class and also the end of the school day. You start packing up your things with shaky hands, your nerves getting the best of you. It’s Friday today. Which means it’s the beginning of the weekend. This also means that you will be going to Zach’s house, staying there for the next couple of days.

You have been able to stay calm and collected the next few days after he had asked you to sleep over at his house for the weekend, but right now you can’t help but start to feel really antsy. 

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→ Paper Doll (pt. 1)

Originally posted by sugutie

☆ pairing → Jungkook x Reader

☆ genre → idol+singer-songwriter!au, drama, slight angst

 warning sexual themes with smut in the next chapters, mentions of past unhealthy relationship 

☆ word count   → 2.1k

summary   → When the nation’s little sister, IU, gets into a huge scandal, your agency seizes the opportunity to thrust you into that now vacant spotlight. Your self-composed song Paper Doll becomes an overnight sensation, and soon people are itching to find out who was the one who broke your heart. All hell breaks loose once netizens discover that you used to date popular idol, Jeon Jungkook. Little do they know that it wasn’t him who left the relationship unscathed –  it was you.

alternatively: a story on the consequences of a hit break-up song

i | ii 


a/n  → so basically this is me being coerced into writing jjk smut 
edit: pt i is more of a prologue



[+11,435; -2,003] this really breaks my image of him… proves how you can’t judge someone from their personality on camera

[+9,386; -1,983] all this time he was pretending to be super innocent haha all those stupid fangirls throwing money at him blindly must be going crazy

[+5,903; -1,234] i mean everyone goes through break-ups, but he was cosplaying as an innocent guy who was scared of skinship with girls all these years.. lmao he’s super shamel–

The words on the screen in front of him all blurred and bled into one big stain. He quickly scrolled through the hundreds and hundreds of comments, each more condemning than the last. A steady pressure was building in his ears, until the only thing he could see or feel were the accusations of a faceless crowd, all jeering at him loudly, fingers pointed.

It was as if his entire life flashed in front of his eyes right then, and he could suddenly recall every inconsequential and significant thing that had shaped his life the past seven years – the hours and hours spent in front of the mirror rehearsing the same steps over and over again, the taste of soggy ramen Hoseok hyung had let overcook last week, the screams of fans, the sound of his alarm clock, the look on your face when you told him it was over. There was no chronology to the kaleidoscope of fleeting glimpses of his past.

“What,” he breathed, hands shaking, eyes wide and disbelieving as his phone fell with a clatter on the table. He desperately wanted to ignore reality, but the stares that were all focused on him kept him grounded to the present.

Of course his first scandal would be linked to you.

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worst behavior || nursey + jack

“Nursey.”

He doesn’t answer him, typing away at his keyboard in a way that’s visibly agitated, or at least irritable. What are normally soft, smooth clicks against the mac’s surface are now harsh, broken-sounding; each near-slam of his slim fingers makes a sharp clack in the quiet of the haus’ living room.

“Nursey,” Jack says again.

The continued silence makes it clear that he’s being ignored. Inwardly, he sighs.

“Twenty-eight, your captain is talking to you. Answer, now.”

At this, the typing stops. Nurse looks up at him, slowly, and his face is so uncomfortably nondescript and blank that Jack cringes a little inside of himself.

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First Impressions

AO3 

~2.5k

Castiel works as a teller at his local bank, and Dean is a new mystery customer that brings in a wad of cash and crumpled singles once a week to deposit into his account.

Working as a bank teller was definitely a unique and interesting experience - and one that Castiel generally enjoyed.

Of course, there were always the customers that raised hell when they walked through the door, complaining about incorrect overdraft fees or loan interests, but for the most part, the people were pleasant and Castiel didn’t mind plastering a smile onto his face for five or six hours at a time.

He and the other tellers had their favorite customers that they always talked about, whether for the entertainment factor, or because they genuinely liked them.

There was the nice old woman who always updated the teller on her grandson’s theater career; the middle aged man who generally arrived drunk and so sure that he was a millionaire even though he wasn’t; the college-aged girl who came in with a different hair color every time; and a younger man who kept trying to convince the teller that he was haunted.

Yes, Castiel was sure that he’d seen it all - and then one day, Dean Winchester came through his line.

The moment Castiel looked up as the new face approached the counter, he was thrown off. Sandy and deliberately coiffed hair framed a perfectly symmetrical face that he was sure he’d seen on a famous statue in some museum or another. Soft green eyes blinked at him with an even softer smile as he leaned forward against the counter and tilted his head.

“Hey,” the man said, his voice almost as smooth as the marble his arms were resting against.

“Hello.” Castiel cleared his throat and smiled, praying to God that it looked natural. “How can I help you today, sir?”

The man pulled out his ID and slid it across the counter.

Dean Winchester, it read.

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Dating Bruce Wayne Would Include

(Btw I am using the Batman v Superman Bruce Wayne, y’all)

  • Not being entirely sure as to how it all even happened
    • On the off-chance that you’re one of Gotham’s minimal elite, you probably met Bruce at a charity gala and, for some reason beyond your comprehension, he picked you out of the other well-dressed women
    • In the higher likelihood that you don’t come from an affluent family, there’s a multitude of possibilities as to where you met: Maybe you were at a gala working as part of the catering company and he accidentally spilled red wine on you. Maybe you worked as an intern or temp or had a desk job somewhere in the Wayne Enterprise building in Gotham. Or maybe he just saw some assholes giving you a rough time and he stepped in and then offered to walk you home.

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“Carnations” (Part 1)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (College AU)

Summary: A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong?

many thanks to the effervescent @buckyywiththegoodhair for beta-reading! i love you, you colorful tropical fish with scales made of diamonds! x

“Carnations” (Masterlist)

“(Y/N), if you really don’t want to help, you can leave. It’s okay.”

You snap out of your involuntary trance, meeting the peeved eyes of the tall figure in front of you. Your eyelids rapidly close and open before you blankly mutter, “Huh?”

“Since we started setting up, you’ve sighed thirteen times, loudly scuffed your shoe against the floor seven times, and spaced out four times. It doesn’t take a genius to see that you don’t want to do this.”

It takes a lot to annoy actual angel Steve Rogers, but somehow you’ve accomplished just that in only five minutes. Sheepish guilt washes over you, and you quickly insist, “I’m so sorry. But I swear I want to help!”

“Are you sure? You look a little preoccupied, and I can also do this myself if something’s –“

“No, no, I want to help. I promise,” you firmly repeat. You furiously tape the banner to the table’s edges as if to show how determined you are to help. “I didn’t mean to be a drama queen and space out.” 

Steve tiredly rubs his palm against his face. “Is everything okay?” he asks. The concern in his voice makes the guilt expand in your lungs, compelling you to cast your eyes downwards.

When faced with a small deficit in the Student Government budget, Steve came up with the carnation sale. Students could order flowers –red for love, pink for friendship, and white for secret admiration– and cabinet members would deliver them to the recipients’ respective dorms.

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Teacher (M)

Plot: Maybe asking your Korean teacher for help wasn’t such a bad idea. Good grades weren’t the only thing you were going to achieve from that.

Pairing: Teacher! Jung Hoseok x Student! reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Oral (receiving), Moaning denial, just full-on hardcore Jung Hoseok the sexy beast

Note: This is probably the first time I’m actually posting smut. It took me quite a while to write, considering it was very long, and I need to be in a certain mood for it. Thank you to my friend for giving me this idea. Please forgive me if there are any errors, english isn’t my first language. 3657 Words

P.S. You are 19 in this, and Hoseok is 25. I do not support all that underage sex stuff. Everything here is legal (wrong – please don’t fuck your teacher no matter how hot he is – but legal).

Korean Literature was probably your least favorite subject. You hated just everything about it – well – excluding the teacher. He always greeted you with a smile, asked you if you wanted help. You were the only foreigner in the class, after all. He gave you so much special attention, and you wouldn’t mind it at all. Unfortunately, that didn’t change your view on the subject. No matter how hard you tried, you always got a low grade.

“Okay students, remember we have a test on the new poem this Friday,” His voice echoed through your ears, breaking you out of your trance.

There was a solemn look on your face, while you stared out the window. Your eyes stayed on the uniformed kids flooding out of the school gates, while your nail dug under the staple holding your latest spelling test together.

5 out of 10. It was better than the last one.

No matter how bad it got, you always had this urge to try. You always wanted to keep studying for a higher score, but you just never seemed to understand everything that was thrown at you. It was like everything registered into your brain, but it never stayed – it disappeared, unlike your determination to do well.

As your eyes flickered over to the teacher, a nervous feeling settled in your chest. You now stayed after school for that exact reason. A few days ago, Hoseok had offered to help tutor you for an hour everyday until the test. It had been at least a week since he started, and you could safely say that you were getting better.

“Are you ready to start?” 

“Yeah.”

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Make You Mine

I’ve kind of had a craving for angry, jealous Dean lately… 

Gator @salvachester - this one’s for you <3

You climb out of the back seat, tugging your skirt down self-consciously. Dean is staring at your legs, his jaw clenched, and even Sam swallows hard, then turns away.

“Does it look that bad?” you ask, worried for a moment that maybe you’re not dressed appropriately to be an FBI agent.

Sam clears his throat, and Dean growls out, “You look fine.”

You straighten your jacket, lift your chin, and get into the head space you need, a little condescending, a little no-nonsense, like you’re used to getting what you ask for. Dean gives you one more glance and, looking like he’d like to eat someone, leads the way into the police station.

You and Sam trail Dean to the front desk, standing a step behind and flashing your badges dutifully when the officer on duty asks if he can help you. “What can we do for the FBI?” he asks, just a touch of snark behind his words, and you can almost feel Dean’s thunderous frown. He’s been on edge for days, and this day seems to be a bad one. His temper has been unpredictable, his level of patience almost zero, and you cringe a little internally at what his reaction might be.

“Is your superior officer around? Maybe the big boys should talk,” he snaps, and the officer behind the desk stands up, all six feet and at least four inches of him, maybe even a little taller than Sam.

“Listen, Agent Hetfield. We don’t take kindly to feds coming in and throwing their weight around. If we can help, fine. But don’t go making demands like we owe you. We work for a living around here, too.”

You can almost feel Dean’s chest swelling, his temper ready to blow, and you step forward, one hand on his arm as you push your way in front of him. “Sorry, Officer – Thomas, is it? Please forgive my partner, this case has him a little wired.” You turn to look up at Dean, your lips tight as you speak to him in a pleasant voice, aware that he will hear the anger beneath. “Agent Hetfield, Agent Hammett, why don’t you go get that coffee we were talking about? I’ll get what we need here and meet you outside.” You narrow your eyes at him, the threat behind them clear.

“Yeah. Why don’t we just do that,” he grinds out, giving a curt nod to the officer and turning on his heel to stalk to the door, flinging it open without a pause. Sam smiles politely, then turns to follow him.

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