stare at it longer to appreciate

Kisses {Harry Styles Smut}

WORD COUNT: 10k y’all!!!

this is my longest one shot, it took up like 20 pages on microsoft word lmfao !! anyways it took me a bit longer than usual bc i went through a slight block (rip) but it is finished and i’m quite proud of it!! feedback is much appreciated, it rly motivates me!! ok that’s it i hope u enjoy :-)


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Dean’s not a teenager anymore. He can’t go all night like he used to, and he can no longer contort his body into whatever shape might heighten all the sensations. Sex has become more traditional.

And you fucking love it.

Because Dean’s not in a hurry to just get to the ‘good stuff’ now. He lingers, tongue dipping into every hollow, fingernails tickling over every curve, raising goosebumps and making your blood heat up in your veins.

Dean studies you, stares and appreciates, drags those full lips over everything, then flips you over and does it again. This is the part he enjoys now, and there’s plenty of time for him to taste and tease. It gets you sweaty and breathless, clawing at the sheets, wondering how he knows that you’re sensitive in exactly that spot, where he learned to recognize which of your moans means “keep going” and which means “right there, do it again”.

Tonight, he settles in for good, old fashioned missionary style, but there’s nothing boring about it. He goes slow, thrusting deep enough to make you shake beneath him, and his mouth is still everywhere, wet and smacking against your skin in the sweetest, can’t stop touching you way.

It’s not kinky and it’s not a marathon.

But damn if you don’t come as hard as you ever have.

And he’s got his fingers laced through yours the whole time.

Better Books. [Beast! Prince Adam Oneshot].

I’M SUCH TRASH. I’m pairing this with another one of my imagines: Where Adam Tells you his name.

Originally posted by braedens

Title: Better Books.
Pairing: Implied! Beast!Prince Adam x Reader.
Words: 1,522.
Rating: K.

After scanning the shelves for what seemed like hours, you had finally found the book you were looking for. Laughing softly in victory, you figured that Adam must have hidden it from you to assure that you didn’t read it again. You could hear his voice inside of your mind, ‘There are better things to read than that.’

You held the book in your hands close to your chest. Rubbing the spine gently, you felt somewhat conscious of the blue eyes lingering on you longingly from across the spacious room. Whether out of nerves or slight curiosity, you let one of your feet dangle from the ladder in the library, swinging around slightly so you could look back at Adam with a tender gaze. He was perched in a chair, sitting in what little sunlight was leaking into the castle from the overcast sky outside. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the sort of warm sunlight that soaked into your skin and made you feel a little more happy and optimistic. It was a dreary sort of sunlight that would bounce off you and create somewhat negative vibes. Fortunately though, you strode around with your own positivity the darkness that seemed to mindlessly drape around the entire residency.

By the time you looked back at him, he tried his best to seem completely invested in the book instead of the back of your head, but you knew better. It was something new between the two of you and has become more and more frequent. The stolen glances, as if it were forbidden to actually look at one another and allow yourself to be caught doing so. You had only stumbled upon the castle a month ago, and between then and now, he has actually warmed up to you surprisingly well. After all, it had only been a week or so since he felt comfortable telling you his name so you didn’t have to stumble around what to call him exactly.

Stepping off the ladder with a small ‘thud’ as you jumped onto the marble floor, you studied the book in your hand and made your way to the seat across from him. Adam noticed of course, watching you from his peripherals as you sauntered your way towards him and sat down.

Adam cleared his throat, setting his book down in his lap. “What’ve you got there?” He inquired, using his head to gesture to the gently worn out book in your hands. If he moved just right in his spot, the dim sunlight coming in through the large windows shined off his horns, somewhat reminding you of how water shimmered in the light.

You seemed a bit shameful when you answered quietly, “Romeo And Juliet.”

“Uhck.” He murmured softly, scrunching his face in mind disgust, “Have you not read that enough? It’s such a tragic story. The romance, the pining, the unforgiving end. That book will be in three pieces by the time you’re done with it. There’s so many books here, why choose the same one over and over?” Adam’s curiosity was legitimate. He never saw the wonder in romance like you seemed to. To him, they all seemed the same and never seemed to have the absolutely ideal ending.

You laughed quietly, “It may be. At least it’s a book that you don’t seem to care about. I’m sure I could set it on fire and you’d probably be very happy that I did.” Shrugging your shoulders, you rubbed the spine once again and answered simply, “It’s a bittersweet tale. I like that it’s not perfect. That’s what makes it enjoyable. Anyway, why does it matter what I read? It’s not like you’re the one reading it.”

He nodded his head in agreement. Thankfully, he wasn’t the one reading it, but he still argued, a bit more innocent and playful this time, “Perhaps, I can show you another story that’s just as good.”

“I dare you to show me one that I’ll love more than this one.” You held the book up and sat it down on the table to your right. “You’ve read everything in here, so I’m sure you can find one.”

Adam stood up, completely towering over you before holding a paw out for you to take. You smiled at him, accepting the help and let him lift you from your seat. “I accept your challenge. I’ve got just the book.” The smile he gave you was the gentlest thing you had encountered and left your heart swimming in an unknown feeling. You wanted nothing more than to see that smile for the rest of your days. Adam hesitated, but eventually let go of your warm hand before striding to the left. You followed closely, biting down on your bottom lip.

What was the feeling in your chest? It was as if someone had lit a thousand candles and let them burn inside of you. You denied any previous thoughts of adoration for Adam, telling yourself that you couldn’t possibly feel anything more than forced friendship for someone who was keeping you here. But at this point, the sensation in your heart was making you question your own words. There was no doubt some sort of attraction between the two of you. The hidden gazes, the gentle strokes of your hand against his arm while you pass him books.

If he let you go, who’s to say you wouldn’t want to willingly stay here with him? You would stay. Even if he didn’t ask, you would stay. But, why?

“Here.” His voice boomed you back to reality. Swallowing softly, you looked up at him with reddened cheeks before letting your gaze drop to the book in his hand. Taking a shaky breath in, you took it from his hands and studied it carefully. It seemed a bit more worn than ‘Romeo and Juliet’, the spine exceedingly bent at the moment, stirring you to ask, “Have you read this a lot?”

“More than most books here. It’s one of the books my mother used to read to me when I was a child.” Adam admitted softly, letting his icy eyes admire your reaction to the book. “It’s the only romance I can actually bear to finish.” He said without thinking. “You see uh— I never finish them, usually. Romances, at least. I leave them off in the ideal place, almost….”

“Afraid of ruining it with the actual ending.” You finished his sentence for him. Adam seemed astonished that you had actually understood. Pressing it to your chest, you sighed and whispered to him, “You’re taking an opportunity away from yourself though. If you never read the ending, you’re not reading it in the way it was intended to be read. Some…” You clutched the book a bit harder, something he noticed as your knuckles were turning while, “Some stories have a happy ending that are so out of sight that you need to keep reading on. You can’t let one bad ending be the reason why you can’t enjoy other endings.”

There was no fighting your words because as Adam let them sink into his mind, he came to realize that you were completely right. He opened his mouth, ready to discourse but couldn’t find anything to say. He couldn’t. He was in such a position that you words were undoubtedly true. Before the curse, his ending was a bad one, though he prolonged it for as long as possible. It took a sharp turn and seemed even worse for a while before you came waltzing into his life, giving the slightest shimmer that perhaps even he could have a happy ending in a story otherwise full of despair, darkness and hate.

“Let me know what you think.” Adam said quietly, looking at the book in your hands. “I hope… you like it.”

Reaching up, you pressed your hand to the right side of his face and completely captivated his attention. The affection was sudden and seemed to leave Adam completely defenseless as you smiled sweetly at him. It was a tender stroke and reminded him of the last time that he had actually been touched so affectionately. It had been years. If it weren’t for the dramatic height difference, he could look at you eye to eye and if given permission, he would have kissed you. Just to see a response, to see that if getting his hopes up wasn’t just a waste now that there were only a few more petals left on the enchanted rose.

Adam was certain he could kiss you regardless, catching you off guard. The nagging voice inside of his head worried that you didn’t want it though, and so he refrained as best he could and tilted his head towards your hand.

You let your hand linger on him for much longer than needed, eventually bringing it from the side of his face to his wide shoulder before walking back to your spot in the small amount of sunlight. It was his time to follow you back. Sitting down, you stared up at him and gave a warm smile, “I’m sure I’ll love it.”

EYYYYY. Thanks for reading! Reblogs and likes are appreciated! :D 

Changes- 8th year

Hello all!

So I thought I’d share with you this little piece that I’ve put together, this is my first time writing something of this length so I apologise if it’s not that good. Also I’ve seen lots of pierced!Harry things circulating on Tumblr so credit to anyone else who has written something along these lines.  

Leading up to his return to Hogwarts for his eighth year, Draco had prepared himself. He’d been prepared for the endless taunts, for the bullying, for the physical assaults but what he hadn’t prepared himself for was the change Harry Potter had gone through. You’d assume that saving the Wizarding World would be enough fun for a lifetime right? Oh no. The Saviour returned with his messy hair tied into a bun, tattoos covering his arms, piercings and an incredibly fit body. Draco knew he was fucked. The tattoos seemed to tell a story whilst oozing confidence and the piercings, well to Draco they made his mind run in many places it shouldn’t. On anybody else these would be intolerable but on Harry Potter they were divine. Draco believed that the endless bullying was probably less of an impact than Potter.

Day in and day out Draco found himself letting his gaze wonder back to the one and only Mr Potter. Draco wasn’t an idiot, he knew that Potter must have been aware that he’d been ogling him for the past week. But who wouldn’t? Harry practically had the whole Hogwarts population simply falling at his feet. Draco, however, refused to be another one of Potters “fans”. He was just simply appreciating him. That was bollocks and even Draco knew it, he would happily do anything Potter said if it meant he could stare at him for a second longer. Not that that was all Draco wanted to do mind you. Who was he kidding? He wanted Potter, he wanted to feel the icy metal of Potter’s lip ring in his mouth, he wanted to trace every inch of Potter’s tattoos. It was sinful, but after all Draco is no Saint. 

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When somebody asks me how life is going, I always have the same answers: It’s okay, it’s fine.

What I really want to say is that my mother’s growing old and I’m scared. The wrinkles that form her face when she frowns have gotten deeper and her finger nails that she used to keep colored a dark shade of red are bare.

My little sister is learning to become a number at school. She received her first report card with all straight 90’s, but the girl who sits behind her had all straight 95’s. She clearly didn’t try hard enough, she believes.

My brother just entered high school, but he’s already stressed about what he’s going to do after college.

My father’s footsteps sound heavier on the wooden stairs of our house when he comes home from work now and his body looks tired.

My friends go to bed feeling empty and twist and turn in their sheets before they fall asleep from complete exhaustion and wake up restless.

I operate like a robot and have absolutely no control over time. It seems to be slipping from my fingers like the wind and I can’t trail behind it.

That is the way it is for most people.
We live in a constant cycle that repeats every day and the color of our lives becomes duller as we grow.

One day we’ll wake up being seventy and think, “Where did my life go?”

It went a little like this:

When you were born, you were born with curiosity burning in your veins. The sound of it was heard loud and clear when you giggled as a toddler and it slowly became inaudible when you became a teenager. In fact, the fire nearly burned out completely when you reached adulthood.

But it’s not out yet.
It doesn’t blow out until your heart stops working.
As long as your lungs expand and deflate, stardust production continues in your blood.

You can’t change the past.
You can’t correct the errors you made or pretend they’ve never occurred.

You can never find true happiness if you are always looking for it.

Live now.
Live in this very minute.
Damn it, don’t think about what happens next. What happened before.
If somebody broke your heart, tell them.
Kiss the hell out of the one that makes you happy.
Call up that relative you swore you hated but haven’t heard from in a while and ask them how they are.
Take out that shirt from your closet that you bought because it was pretty and wear it, even if you think it doesn’t look great on you.
Drink more water in the day even if you don’t feel thirsty.
Put down your phone and step outside for a few minutes and just breathe.
Stare at the moon, the stars, the clouds as they drift onwards.
Watch the sunrise and the sunset by yourself and listen to soft music when you do it.
Take long showers and touch yourself gently.
Stop believing that a low grade defines your intelligence and learn to appreciate your hard work when you’ve put it in.
Make sure to give yourself a break when you need it.
Hug your friends for a minute longer and remind them that you love them.
Change your vocabulary from “I can’t” to “I can”.
Be open to pain and letting go of it.
Scream at the top of your lungs when the world is sitting on your shoulders.
Set fire to the dreams you couldn’t achieve and with the ashes form a new path.

Make your life one that is worth being proud of.
That you can feel satisfied with once you are taking your last breaths.

You have always been making choices on your own—It is up to you to make the best ones.

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard: The Sexuality Crisis

Magnus had never been attracted to boys before, only girls. He could appreciate the aesthetic of them, but never before had he wanted to date one. He was as straight as a rod-always had been, and always will be.

So it wasn’t gay of him to think Alex was cute. She was cute on both her female days and male days. It wasn’t gay at all.


Or: Magnus has a crisis over whether liking Alex is gay or not and everyone else is facepalming at him.

Read it on AO3 and FanFiction

Magnus was straight.

Sure, he had that period of time where he had questioned his sexuality after learning that heterosexuality wasn’t the only one, but everyone went through that. And by the time it was over, he had decided that he was nothing other than straight. The thought of being anything else never crossed his mind again.

But just because Magnus was straight didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the aesthetic of other guys from time to time. He wasn’t blind, he could tell whether people were attractive or not. And sometimes, those guys were pretty nice to look at for a moment or two longer than necessary. But he never once felt the desire to do anything romantic with them, because he wasn’t attracted to guys. It was as simple as that.

“See something ya like?”

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BTS Reacts - Meeting Someone Cute At A Fansign

Jimin: Jimin would be minding his own business, but he’ll quickly take notice of your face at the corner of his eyes. Jimin is usually shy around fans that adore him, but the sight of your body edging closer to his own starts to get his heart pumping. After countless fan meets, it is a rarity that someone would make him as feel restless as you do - some part of him couldn’t wait to introduce himself. He’d start to fidget in his seat, nervously pondering to himself as he observes your every little movement: how would I be able to make a lasting impression on you? He doesn’t want to be just another forgotten face to someone that appeals to him so. When the time comes, he would force himself just a tad out of his timid shell to ensure that someone as comely as you would remember him by. He would butt his head in front of Min Yoongi, in attempt to pull you away from him, sending you a wholesome smile as he interjects:

“Hey, it’s my turn already, don’t you want to talk to me?”

Seokjin: Jin would want you to stay at his own corner for as long as he can possibly keep you, just so he can admire you for a little longer. The problem is that he would be so taken by your appearance, that he would often forget to keep the conversation between you two going. As you speak to him, he would enjoy watching the little things surrounding the way you talked - your fiddling fingers, the curl in your lips whenever the both of you manage to catch each other’s stares, the rosy tinge in your cheeks as you smile at him. Seokjin would have preferred that you did most of the talking - after all, that meant that he could spend more of his energy focused on just appreciating your good looks. He listens to you intently as you speak about whatever comes to mind first, tossing you a loose smirk while he enjoys the view of you before him.

“You have a really nice voice, you know? Just keep talking; I’m listening.”

Namjoon: The leader of Bangtan would already be trying to think of ways that he could get closer to you, not as an idol, but a person you’d want to meet on any regular day. Namjoon would probably try to be as friendly as he could possibly seem, wanting you to feel at ease with him. He is a good conversationalist, so any exchange of words always seem to flow naturally. He would grin every so often, shamefully flashing off the dimples in the sides of his cheeks - he knows the fans go crazy over them, and he hopes that it’ll affect you just as well. He’ll look to the members every so often when he talks to you, not because he’s uninterested in your chat, but mostly to make sure that they weren’t aware of his attempts at wooing you. They do eventually poke fun at him when they find out, especially during your conversation - ‘Kim Namjoon makes a good husband, just for your information!’

“Ignore them, they’re just teasing us. What were we talking about?”

Yoongi: This member is particularly quiet during fan signings, saving his energy for later when he needs to address the crowd before him, or whenever he spontaneously decides to act silly. He’s always watching the fans silently, examining their faces from afar. Soon, his gaze falls on you, and he is instantly attracted by your looks, subconsciously giving you a favorable pout. He rarely takes a romantic interest in his fans because he’s so focused on his career, but he seems to be unable to shake the feelings of intrigue stirring within his chest. He can’t help but periodically look your way as you line up. When you finally reach Yoongi, his fingers would flick gingerly at one of his ears, trifling with the ring that hangs from it. As tempted as he would be to straightforwardly address your attractiveness just to get it out of the way, he would be the kind to play it cool, just so no one can call him out on his fascination.

“So.. is this your first fan-signing?”

Jungkook: Kook is passionate about finding and being in love. He wouldn’t let this chance to speak freely with a cute fan slip by him so easily. He would want to make sure that he is in the center of attention, for you in particular. He makes sure to put on an aloof act as you saunter in front of him, pretending not to be bothered by your appearance in the slightest, before gradually becoming more chummy with you, bringing forth his hidden charms. He would pick at your fingers on the table playfully, coyly brushing his against your own as he assumes a boyish, laid-back persona. There was a time when he would have had his face turn bright crimson from the thought of spending time with someone as delightful as you, but Jungkook is older now - he’s seasoned into a person that is aware of his own charisma. He notices Taehyung trying to whisk you away with his chipper attitude, which results in him getting shoved out of the way by the maknae himself.

“Yah, get out of my way and wait your turn! I’m not finished yet!”

Taehyung: Taehyung wouldn’t handle his act very well if he sees a pleasant-looking fan coming his way. He would want to be the member of Bangtan that will be remembered by you, as the one who can make your heart stop. His brain would go into overdrive as he wondered how to captivate you, which results in him striving to pull of a cute and seductive disposition in one go. Tae would probably go overboard with his hyperactivity, trying insanely hard to get your attention, even though you’re already standing before him and speaking to him. Your talk with each other would be fraught with impulsive facial expressions that snap back and forth between comical grins and sultry, mischievous looks. You can’t help but ask if he’s alright, as he suddenly appears to be so sprightly; he almost seems like he’s itching to jump out of his seat from sheer excitement.

“Huh? No, I’m not okay - do you know how hard it is to keep up with someone as cute as you?”

Hoseok: Expect a lot of happy looks from the bubbly rapper. All that would be on his mind is how pretty you look. He would try to appeal to you similarly - as he listens to you, he’d innocently nibble at his thumb, watching you as if you’re the only person in the room that’s visible to him. Hoseok has the potential to be very forward with his feelings if he wants to, expressing himself openly with his provocative body language, especially since he’s an experienced dancer, skilled in translating his passions into reality. The corners of his eyes crinkle as his lips twirl into a smile, noticing your delicate features twinkle under the lights. Before you leave the table, he would most likely initiate some form of skinship to send you off - patting your head, holding your hands in his, leaning in close so that he can gaze dreamily into your eyes before you go, so that you’d be more in favour of him rather than the other members.

“We’d better see you at another fan signing, okay? I want to talk with you some more.”

I’ve made it so that the cute people in question are - as always - my lovely readers. Please enjoy this reaction! Thank you for the request and your compliment! <3

The Joker x Reader - “I Love You”

You never miss a chance to say the magic words to him. The Joker doesn’t want to hear about it but you are not the one to give up so easily. Actually… I guess anybody can back down if pushed enough.

– During an important meeting with new business partners, Frost interrupts and brings in a little envelope to J, whispering you said it is absolutely urgent and imperative he opens it right away. The Joker wonders what the hell it might be, opens the letter and shakes it to take out the contents when a bunch of pink glitter flies all over along with your message on  a piece of paper: “I LOVE YOU.” The other guys fake cough, attempting to pretend they didn’t see crap while The Clown Prince of Crime gives them an icy glance, annoyed with your stunt:

“If I hear a single sound, I swear you’re all dead!!!!”

Goddammit woman, stop your shit! he thinks biting on his cheek, dusting off the sparkly dust off his shirt, but stashing your little note in his pocket.

– You are away on a mission for 2 days when his cell suddenly goes off at 1 AM, letting him now he has a new message. He is more than cranky he got woken up and checks to see what it is. A text from you: “ I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU.”

You must be kidding me! J growls, pissed you bothered him with such nonsense but saves the message in his drafts and goes back to sleep.

– One night he visits the club without you and gets out of his Lamborghini when the phone beeps.

What is it, the stupid words again?!  he scoffs when he sees your name on the screen.

“Look up!” the text simply says and he does, noticing the huge light up message on the top of the building across the street; “I LOVE YOU.”

This is getting beyond ridiculous, The Joker huffs but takes a picture of what you did and saves it in his favorites.

– After taking a shower in the morning, J goes in the front of the sink to brush his teeth and finally gazes at the mirror. There it is, written with red lipstick: “I LOVE YOU.”

He rolls his eyes, fed up with your behavior and erases the words, not before that wide smirk creeps up on his lips. He hears you giggle and goes back to frowning:

“Cut it out, Y/N!!!”

– You bring the white mocha to his office and place it right on top of his papers. J stares at it for a few seconds and sighs, lifting his blue eyes from the cup, complaining about what you wrote with foam: “I LOVE YOU.”

“Are you done with this rubbish, Princess?” he mutters while you just innocently lift your shoulders up, not answering. “Bring me another mocha and NO FUNNY BUSINESS, understand?”

You pout, disappointed he never appreciates your efforts and by the time you are back with his new coffee The Joker already finished the other cup.

“What?” he snarls when notices your smile. “Don’t get it to your head, Doll, I really couldn’t wait any longer so I had to drink it; you’re so slow!” he makes sure to admonish but kisses your wrist when you hand him the mug.

–During a heist you go with a few henchmen on the upper floor while he stays down with the rest, looking around for the diamonds and gold. You go behind a wall and dial his number. He picks up after 3 rings and you just say; “I LOVE YOU,” and hang up.

Really?! The Joker mumbles, astonished at your unprofessional conduct (that’s how he likes to call it). He simply texts back: “Shut up, Y/N!”


I totally can’t stand her; she really drives me nuts, he concludes, irked at your game, but saves this message in drafts too.

– J wakes up and his feet touch something cold and pretty sharp when he gets out of bed. You got him a ton of gold chains and arranged them on the floor to spell “I LOVE YOU.” His mouth opens on amazement, considering chocking the life out of you at this point. Your green haired boyfriend kicks the chains all over the place, mad again, but not before taking a picture of your accomplishment and saving it in his favorites. He hears you snicker.

“I said cut it out, Y/N!!!!”

– “Bubble bath is readyyyyyy,” you announce, proud of the nice evening you planned for the two of you.

J comes in, taking his clothes off, suspiciously scrutinizing the bathroom.

“Any hidden ‘I love you’ anywhere?” he smacks his lips, warning you he’s not going to tolerate your actions anymore. He had such a shitty day it’s not even funny.

“Nope,” you confidently declare, moving back in the Jacuzzi so he can sit by you.“Nothing at all, baby.” He’s starting to relax when you massage his shoulders, then lean over and kiss his neck, whispering: “I LOVE YOU.”

“That’s it !!!” he splashes all over, angered at your little stupid plan to squeeze in those stupid words again. “Quit bothering me, you pain in the ass!!!”

“What, you don’t want me to love you?” you raise your voice also, not understanding why he’s so worked up.

“I didn’t say that!” he yells back and you are baffled.

“So what’s the problem then?!”

“STOP SAYING IT!” he hisses at you, panting.
“Why should I?! Aren’t you happy that I love you?!”

“NO! I don’t need your stupid love!!!!!” The Joker has a fit, kicking all the candles and shampoo bottles in his rage, making sure to direct them your way.

You gasp in pain when one of the candles hits you right in the face since you didn’t have enough time to dodge it. You don’t say anything, just step out of the hot tub, holding your numb left cheek with your hand.

J stops his tantrum but doesn’t react in any other way as you leave him standing in the water, still fuming at your absurdities.

– The I LOVE YOU’s stopped. He doesn’t get any more letters, texts, hidden messages or sky lights on the buildings. So exciting you finally got it into your head you irritate him with your stupid feelings all the time! The King of Gotham doesn’t even hear it when you make love and that delights him.

The white mocha doesn’t taste the same though. When he asks why, you sassily respond:

“Because it’s not made with love so get used to it!”

“Cut it out, Y/N!” he snaps as you quietly walk away and couldn’t care less.

– He didn’t hear the words out of you in a few months and it’s perfect. Today he even went through his phone to delete all the useless pictures and drafts he saved from you.

– “Look up,” you urge him, pulling on his arm and his heart starts beating faster for some reason, but then all he sees is The Batsy signal in the night sky.

“He’s close, we should get going,” you tell J and he agrees, disappointed at the revelation. He kind of expected something else.
– Frost brings the letter to him in the meeting, whispering it’s urgent and J impatiently opens it to find inside just a dull piece of paper: “Dinner at 6, robbery at 7.30 . All ready to go.”

She could’ve texted me, he sulks, cramming your note in his pocket. He kind of expected something else.

– You are away for one night and he gets the text at 3AM. He immediately jumps out of bed and grins when he sees your name on the screen.

“This undercover mission you assigned me is very boring.” That’s all you sent. He grumbles something not very sweet and tosses the phone on the table, stretching and going back to bed, frustrated. He kind of expected something else.

 – He gets out of the shower and looks at the mirror just to see your insipid notation with red lipstick: “Be back soon.”

Why doesn’t she just text me if that’s all she has to say?! The Joker whines, grabbing a paper towel so he can clean your mess. He kind of expected something else.

– “Bubble bath is readyyyy!” you shout and he comes in, ready to unwind. You move so he can sit by you and begin massaging his shoulders, talking about a bunch of stuff that happened during the day.

“Well?!” he interrupts your speech, turning his head towards you.

“Well what?” you ask back, not getting the point, already forgetting what you were talking about and it annoys you.

“Say it!” he commands, slowly blinking, elbowing you.

“Say what?” you squint your eyes, trying to remember the topic he just made you forget.

“You know what, Pumpkin. Say it!” he mutters through his clenched teeth, not thrilled he has to bring it up.

You take a deep breath and gaze at each other for a few good seconds before finally kissing his neck and enunciate: “I LOVE YOU.”

“Good, I was wondering about that,” he grouchily comments, leaning backwards so he can rest against your body. “My white mocha better taste great again, Doll,” The Joker makes sure to point out, closing his eyes.

“With or without foam?” you tease J and since he’s such a difficult person he sure deserves it.

“With and it better spell something,” he reaches his hand to tug on your wet hair.

“It might if I still have the skills; it’s been a while,” you debate and it’s actually the truth.

 “Don’t care, make it work,” he puffs, not giving a damn; he just expects it.

You want to laugh but can’t: your strategy worked- it was learned from the best. Your boyfriend should be proud since manipulating things to obtain what is desired happens to be his specialty. 

Also read- MASTERLIST :

portugal’s song sounds like it’s being performed in a 5 star seaside hotel restaurant in the south of spain by an obscure lounge singer who was once an internationally renowned musician whose record sales went into decline because his old school romantic piano ballads are no longer appreciated in the modern age and it’s 11:38pm on a clear night with a full moon and palm trees swaying gently in the warm summer breeze with the distant sound of crashing waves in the background and the restaurant is quiet and mostly empty but there’s a glamorous woman in a fancy cocktail dress sitting alone at at a table and sipping her daiquiri looking heartbroken and staring wistfully out the window at the starlit sky above the dark expanse of the mediterranean and the singer is gazing at her longingly while crooning his heartfelt declarations of love and reminiscing about the childhood sweetheart he let go in order to pursue his dreams of fame and glory

No Cookie For You (Lafayette x Reader)

Words: 1500+ I believe

Warnings: blood, abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, innuendos? 

Request:  Hi! I know you’re starting up a new series and it’s already awesome, but if you still have time for requests could you do one where reader is together with Tjeffs but he’s been fukin up lately and he’s on the last straw and does something stupid to snap it and LaffyTaffy is there to comfort her cause he low-key has a huge crush on her and they get together. If you don’t have time or I’m too late I understand tho! Keep up the good work and don’t work yourself too hard 😄 

A/N: hey yall, remember when i said i will take a few days off?Yup, I lied, I took maybe 12 hours off and I am back at it again. bold and italicized is text, just italicized is memories.

You were sitting at the dinner table, waiting until Thomas finally came home. You were slightly frustrated, since he promised to make it home to eat with you. You stared at the clock, watching the seconds pass by. This was not the first time he did this.

In the beginning of your relationship, Thomas always made sure that he had dinner with you. It was cute, and you appreciated the effort he put into you two. But after a few months of dating, his work days became longer and longer, sometimes leaving you waiting until one in the morning for him to walk through the door. He used to kiss you when he walked in, but now, he just ignored you, walking straight to bed. You thought back to an argument the two of you had a few days ago.

Thomas walked through the door, carrying a suitcase in his hands. Your arms were crossed against your chest, glaring at him. He barely gave you a second glance, grabbing his plate and putting the food in the microwave to heat up. He didn’t kiss your cheek, just like every day for weeks prior.

“Thomas.” You said, and he grunted in response, his back to you. “What happened? You said you’d be home at five. It’s two in the morning.” He shrugged his shoulders, sitting at the table with the food in front of him.

“You know how it is, Y/N. Hamilton never shuts up, and we end up debating for hours. I can’t let him win.” He ate his food slowly. You sighed, putting your hand to your head.

“Could you just tell me when you’re getting home? Maybe a call, or a text message? You promised me that you’d do that, to make sure that I know your safe.” He scoffed at your small speech, looking at you through droopy eyes.

“I can handle myself. I don’t think I need to check-in with you.” You stared at him, your eyes widening. Is he really acting like this, with you?

“Seriously? Why are you talking to me like this? Like I’m Hamilton?” You whispered, tears in your eyes. He stopped eating, slamming the fork down. You jumped, shocked at his actions. His eyes met yours, flames pouring out.

“I am an adult, Y/N. I don’t need to hear this from you, not now. You’re always starting fights, and I’m sick of it. Why don’t we just end this here? Madison can take better care of me than you.” He spat, glaring at you. Your hands were shaking, tears appearing in your eyes. You turned around, marching to the room that you two shared.

You looked for your luggage, and began packing your stuff, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. You heard footsteps behind you, but you ignored him, your sniffles making you cough. You heard him sigh, and felt arms wrap around your waist. You froze, closing your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean that, you know it.” You shook your head, trying to pull his arms from you. He held you tighter, unwilling to let go. No, you couldn’t let him do this to you again, you had enough of his crap.

“How do I know that, Jeff? How do I know that you aren’t tired of me, how do I know that your not with someone else, that you hate seeing my face?” He turned you around, pushing your hair out of your eyes. He smiled, and kissed your lips softly.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that. I don’t want anyone else in my life but you. Please understand that.” His kiss lingered on the corner of your lip, tracing your jaw line and down your neck. He pulled your shirt over your head, and smiled at you.

You closed your eyes, groaning.

It was a constant thing between you two. He would insult you in every way possible, and you would start to pack up your things. It felt like a routine. After that night, he promised to make it home every day. You made him sign a piece of paper to make sure he followed the rule. His consequence?

“What if I don’t make it home?” He chuckled through your kisses on his face. You grinned at him, wiggling your eyebrows.

“No cookie for you.” You replied, and he widened his eyes, pushing you back against the bed. His lips caressed your stomach, and you giggled.

“I’m never going to be late again.” He whispered.

You put your head on the table, the tears coming again. Is this what love was like? Why did it feel like you were climbing over obstacles just to see the one you loved? Why didn’t he just send you a text message?

You looked down at your phone, making sure you didn’t miss any text messages.

Nope, no notifications.

“Why do you ignore me, Thomas, why do you do this to me?” You mumbled, staring at the food on your table that’s been cold for hours. “You’re such an ass…” You played with the lukewarm water next to you, watching the condensation drip.

Your phone vibrated, and you quickly looked at it, your smile coming back on your face. Instead, you say Lafayette, your friend, sent you a message.

Laf: How are you, Y/N? Did Thomas get home yet?  

You: no, should i b scared? wat if somthin bad happend? wat should I do?

Laf: It’ll be fine. Text me 911 if you need me to come by.

You questioned why he sent you that, but a noise interrupted your thought process. The lock to your apartment jiggled, and you sat up straight, a small bit of hope jumping in your chest. You turn towards the door, watching him walk in.

His hair was a mess, and his clothes were disheveled. You smiled at him, and he looked at you, a big grin on his face. “Guess what, Y/N?” He asked you, running over to you. You jumped out of your seat.

“What’s up, Tom?” You asked, a small smile appearing on your face. He laughed loudly, picking you up. You giggled, twirling around in his arms. After a moment of your protesting and his arms tiring out, he put you down, the smile never leaving his face.

“I finally beat Hamilton! My plan was finally passed!” You held up your hand for a high five. He turned away from you, not noticing your hand in the air.

“That’s great, hon. Want to celebrate? I have wine in the fridge.” He shook his head, taking off his vest.

“It’s fine, Madison and I already went out for drinks. Sorry about the dinner.” He kissed your forehead, and you noticed a strange mark on his neck.

“Hey, what’s that?” You asked, moving his shirt out of the way. It was swelled and red, and there was at least three on his neck. Your heart dropped, and you backed away from him. The smile on his face wavered, and he tried touching your arm. You pushed him away, stumbling back. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is, Thomas. Please.” You gasped desperately, tears staining your cheeks.

“Y/N, we were just having some fun. It’s not like I had sex with them or anything. It’s fine.” He said, his lopsided grin still there. You pushed past him, grabbing your coat off the hanger next to the door.

You didn’t look back at him this time, grabbing your phone off the table and taking your hat and scarf.

“Hey, where are you going?” He said, watching you move back and forth.

“Anywhere but here. I don’t need this from you anymore.” You growled, the tears still falling out of your eyes. You tried to mend this relationship, you really did. But Thomas seemed to care less about you and your feelings, ignoring your pleas and your desperate attempts at fixing this.

Finally, the stupid grin on his face dropped. He stood in front of the door, blocking your way. You frowned, sighing. “I can’t, I can’t do this, Tommy. I can’t stand here and pretend I’m okay with you cheating on me. I’m not okay.” He tried again to reach for you, but you backed up. “No, kissing me and making me forget about it won’t change anything. I need some space.”

“I can’t just let you leave, Y/N. You know that.” You looked into his eyes, and there was anything but sorrow in them. Your heart started beating faster, now terrified of what he was going to do. He stepped towards you again, a warning in his eyes. “Just stay here, okay? We’ll work this out.” It seemed more like a demand than a request.

“Thomas, you’re scaring me.” You whispered, your hands shaking. You heard your phone vibrate in the kitchen, and you glanced behind you. Thomas’s gaze flicked off of you, looking back to the noise as well.

You made a run for it.

You stumbled a little, your feet still having your fuzzy socks on. You dashed around the bend in the living room, trying to get to the kitchen before he caught you. His shoes boomed behind you, and you never felt more afraid in your life. You spotted the phone lying there, and with the last boost of adrenaline that you had, you grabbed the phone, quickly typing in 911.

A hand grabbed you by your shirt, pulling you back. You gasped, falling onto the floor. Your device escaped your hand, hitting the floor with a loud cracking noise. Thomas was furious, his eyes bloodshot red. He pulled you up, dragging you to the room. You yelped, tugging on his hands as much as possible.

“Stop flailing around, Y/N! Why are you acting like this?” He grumbled, throwing you onto their bed. You scrambled to the edge, but he pushed you down, straddling you. His face leaned down, and he rubbed his lips on your ear, and you whimpered. He sighed and bit down, hard, on your cheek. You cried out, tasting your salty tears.

“Please, Thomas, just let me go.” You whispered. He laughed.


You woke up the next day, leaning forward out of your bed quickly. You looked to the side of you, noticing that Thomas was gone. You ignored the pain in your lower abdomen and You scrambled, pulling your already filled luggage out of the closet and walked to your bedroom door. You tried opening it, hearing a click when you turned the knob. You did it again, and it stayed shut.

Thomas locked you in the room.

You fell onto the floor, your mouth slightly open.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” You heard a voice yell, immediately recognizing it as Lafayette’s. You banged your fist on the door, calling back to him. You heard your front door click open, and footsteps walking around your home. “Where are you?”

“In the room.” You replied, hearing his steps come closer to the door.

“Back away, mon amour.” He said, and you moved back. After a few seconds, you watched the door crack, slamming open. Lafayette stood on the other side, his hair pulled back into his signature bun. You looked at his chest moving up and down.

“Laf, how’d you know?” You mumbled. He pulled you against him, holding you tight. You hugged him back, letting out a deep breath. After standing there for what felt like hours, you let him go.

“You sent me 911, love. I did not receive the text message until this morning. Are you okay? Why were you locked in this room?” He asked, glancing around. His eyes focused on the bed, their gaze narrowing. You turned to what he was looking at, shocked at the sight. On the bed, there was dried blood, probably from what happened late last night. Lafayette examined your body, seeing if there was any more damage. He touched a dark spot on your arm, and you hissed.

“Thomas did this to you? He…” Lafayette’s eyes glistened, his hands shaking. You touched his cheek, wiping away the tears.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. He was drunk last night, he didn’t mean it. I know that he loves me, Laf. He wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” Lafayette opened his eyes, and kissed your fingers. You blushed, moving your hand back to your side.

“This is not love, mom amour. Love does not hurt, love does not draw blood. Love listens to the word no.” He whispered. “I need to get you out of here. Pack up all your things, you’re coming back with me.” You hesitated, looking back at your room. Thomas and you bought this apartment, together. He wouldn’t just want you to leave without telling him.

“I, I can’t leave him.” You said, opening your luggage. Lafayette touched your arm again, and you flinched. He pulled back quickly. “Thomas is going to hate you being in here, you should go.”

“I’m not going to leave you here with that monster.”


“No, Y/N. Stop. Stop saying that man loves you. If he loved you, he would have never prevented you from taking a break. He would that never forgave himself if he saw you cry. He would work so hard to fix what relationship you have. He would give you flowers and chocolates occasionally, just because. He would love you with his whole being, and even more than that. He would not lock you in a room, he would not hit you, he would not lay a finger on you. He would not cheat on you. He would not force you to have sex with him.”

You bit your lip, looking back to the blood on the bed. A small part of you wanted to talk it out with Thomas, but you knew Lafayette was right. He was always right. “Okay. Okay, I’ll go with you.”

It’s been months since you last seen Thomas. In the first few weeks, he constantly called and texted you, begging you to come home. You cried every time, Lafayette there to comfort you through it. He offered to change your phone number for you, but you didn’t want to. After ignoring him for so long, he occasionally sent you a message, saying how better his life was without you in in.

This time, you blocked his phone number.

Now, you still love lived with Lafayette, his kindness making you ecstatic. You two were close before, but now, your relationship as friends grew into best friends. You knew where he hid all of his goodies, you knew his underwear size, you even knew which brand of toothpaste he liked the most.

There were a few things you noticed changed between you two as well. He would walk next to you on the side walk (the street side, of course) and make sure that your hands were entwined in one another. You always asked him why, but he would just shrug, a small smile on his face.

Some of your friends noticed how Lafayette treated you, especially one of his good friends, Herc. “I’m just saying, the way he looks at you, that’s not friendly love.” He joked once, causing you to hit him lightly on the arm. That was only the first, Hamilton and Laurens teased you as well.

You couldn’t help but wonder if it was true. The blush on his cheeks whenever you gave him a hug or a wink, the protective stance he took when someone stared at you for a little too long. He even let the waiter say that you two were dating, you had to tell them that it wasn’t true. Of course you noticed Lafayette’s face drop for a second.

“Laf, what are you doing?” You asked, walking over to him in the kitchen. He turned on the stove, smiling back at you.

“Just making us some food, mon amour. Why, are you hungry?” You nodded, sitting on a stool a few feet from him. You watched him move around the room, admiring how graceful his movements were. After a few minutes of silence, Lafayette sighed, his brown eyes meeting yours.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. You looked down at your fingers, your chest tightening.

“Um… do you like me?” You whispered, and he walked over to you, pulling you into his arms.

“I do, mon amour. Why do you think I do not?” You moved out of his arms, and he looked at you strangely.

“No, no. I didn’t meant it like that,” you put your face in your hands, “I suck at words. I really do.” Lafayette stayed silent. “Lafayette, you saved me. You saved me from Thomas.” Your voice wavered when you spoke his name. “I am forever grateful to you. I really am. It’s just, I noticed that you act differently around me than your friends. You, you pay special attention to me, you hold my hand when we’re walking, you never correct people when they say we’re together. You smile about it. And, I don’t mind. I don’t think I’ll mind being your girlfriend. You taught me how I am supposed to be treated, you taught me how to love. I just need to know, do you like me? Like, like me, I mean.”

Lafayette turned off the stove, a serious look on his face. You gulped, realizing this was a mistake. Great, you just lost your best friend because you didn’t know how to shut up. He’s probably going to hate you now. You jumped off the stool. “Forget it, forget I ever said anything. I’m sorry.”

“There is no need, mon amour.” He touched your arm softly, completely different from the way your ex touched you. You felt safe in his touch. “I did not want to make you feel like you owe me because I helped you. But you chose to leave him, you chose on your own, and I am happy that you did so. You see,” he led you back to the stool, and he sat directly in front of you, your legs between his, “I have had, how you say, a crush on you. I met you when you were together with him, and I knew that I liked you. You’re funny, your nice, and you’re beautiful. How could I not fall in love with you? And when I found out that he was hurting you…” His hands tightened into fists, and you touched his hands. He took a deep breath, and put his hands in yours instead. “I want to make sure you are okay. I do not want anything bad to happen to you.” He whispered, small droplets falling out of the corner of his eyes. You touched his cheek, trying to wipe them away.

“Don’t cry, Gilbert. I don’t like to see you cry.” You smiled at him, and he laughed, pulling your face to his. You two were inches apart, your lips almost touching. “Stop teasing me, Laf, just kiss me already.” He rolled his eyes.

“You do not need to ask me twice.” He pulled you closer, yours lips pressing against each others.

You Scared of Me Now, Babydoll? (Part 6)

Pairing: Negan x Reader

Summary: Negan has a surprise for you, but things don’t go the way you planned

Word Count: 2,791

Warning(s): Language

A/N: Finally a lengthy chapter to thank you all for waiting patiently! I wanted to have a little mentions to the reader’s past in this chapter so it just ended up kinda long. There is also quotes from the show in this chapter, but I didn’t quite make it go the exact way it happened in the show, so I apologize for continuity errors! Masterlist is here. Enjoy!

Originally posted by thewalkingdead

Three loud knocks rapped on your door.

You sat up, incredibly confused because there was no light streaming through your window. No one normally came to wake you up this early and you began to wonder if something was wrong.

You sat up quickly and approached the door cautiously. You took a deep breath and held it before opening it.

“Hope I didn’t catch you in the middle of a wet dream, darlin’.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Jesus, Negan. The sun’s not even up yet!”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey! Could you write a Daryl x reader where Daryl is in love with her, but she doesn't know and everything is so awkward at the beginning, and he is afraid she doesn't love him because the reader is sweet and nice with everybody 😊

A/N: Okay! So something a little bit different to what I usually do but I’ve been wanting to give this a go for a while now. Behold…my first Daryl x Reader prompt. Not everyone’s cup of tea I know but I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff and stuff.

“D’ya think he’s ever going to tell her?” Tara asked watching the exchange between the close pair.

Denise shrugged her shoulders, tilting her head as they watched Daryl and Y/N share what looked like to be a joke. Daryl ducking his head in that shy way he does around her, Y/N’s hand coming out to squeeze his arm lightly before walking away, flashing a bright grin to Spencer as she walks past him.

Daryl didn’t miss the smile Spencer threw back, wanting to kick the ground in frustration at the thought of even having a chance with someone like her.

She was nice to everyone, like a ray of sunshine and this shit hole they called a world, far too good for the likes of him. 

And yet, every single time he drew a smile out of Y/N, he felt like maybe, just maybe, she might feel something similar as he did for her. 

But who was he kidding himself? She was just being friendly, that’s all there was to it.


“Hey Daryl!” Y/N called out, jogging lightly towards him across the street.

“Y/N,” Daryl greeted, “what’s up?”

“Do you wanna come around for dinner tonight?”

Daryl shrugged his shoulders and nodded, they often had dinner together with the others.

“Denise and Tara comin’?” he asked casually.

“Well, no. They said they were busy, although they wouldn’t tell me doing what. They said we could still have a meal together though? If you’re up for it of course.” 

Daryl almost tripped over his words, “yeah, sure, course, sounds good, I’ll, um, I’ll be there.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges, oblivious to the stuttering mess he’d just turned into. 

“Okay, I’ll see you at seven,” she said, backing away slowly towards her house.

“Seven,” Daryl confirmed, his mouth sticking when he tried to produce any more words.


Tara’s head whipped up from the gun she was cleaning, a shit eating grin spread across her face.

“Daryl,” she greeted smugly, “I wondered how long it’d take you to come after me.”

“Ya planned it this way didn’t ya?” he almost growled, pacing back and forth across her porch restlessly.

Tara acted dumb, her eyes widening dramatically, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Dixon.”

“Don’t play coy with me,” he grunted, swivelling on his heel to face her, “ya know exactly what y’all were doin’.”

Tara stood up, patting him lightly on the chest before looking him straight in the eye. “And you can thank me later.”

“Ain’t gon’ thank ya for nothin’ cause ain’t nothin’ gon’ happen.” His accent was thick, getting thicker with each passing second of frustration that came off him in waves.

“You need to tell her how you feel, me and Denise have given you said opportunity to do so. Don’t mess it up either, Y/N is a mean cook and we’re totally bowing out just so you can get some tonight.”

Daryl was in full force now, face growing red at Tara’s words. “She ain’t never gon’ feel the same! And even if she did I ain’t gonna be gettin’ none of nothin’, got respect for her don’t I?!”

“Easy redneck,” Tara teased, hands coming up passively. “Just…see what happens, you’re just having dinner…with a friend, see how the mood strikes you both. Ya never know, may just surprise yourselves.”


“You like it?” 

Y/N eyes were lit up, waiting for Daryl’s approval as he tried to gracefully sip the steaming soup off his spoon.

He smacked his lips together, taunting her as he swallowed, rolling his tongue around his mouth a little bit longer as if to taste more of the flavour whilst Y/N sat staring at him like a present on Christmas day.

“Well?” she prompted when he took a moment too long.

Daryl caved then, smirking as he scooped another spoonful, nodding in appreciation. “It’s good,” he felt a warmth flow through him as Y/N grinned, “it’s real damn good.”

They ate from then on in relative silence, Daryl drinking down his glass of wine as if it was juice, trying to calm his nerves at the intimate situation they found themselves in.

Y/N had tried to make the evening nice, lighting a few candles, opening a stashed away bottle of red wine, seating them across from one another at her small round kitchen table.

As she began to clear their empty bowls away Y/N got an idea, one she doubted he would go for but something she wanted to find out for herself.

“You feel like staying a while?” she asked coyly as she leaned back against the kitchen counter. “Help me finish off that bottle of wine?”

Daryl was repeating in his head like a mantra that it didn’t mean anything, she was just trying to be friendly goddammit. But that part of him, that subconscious part that was screaming in his head that she meant more than just wine wouldn’t be silenced.

“S’pose it wouldn’t hurt.” The words were out of his mouth before the rational part of his brain could protest otherwise.

“Great,” Y/N beamed, taking their glasses through to the living room, setting them on the coffee table in between the couch and the roaring fire, filling them both up a hefty glass.

“Ya tryna get me drunk?” Daryl teased as he slouched back on the couch, keeping a small gap between them.

“You complaining?” Y/N quipped back with a dangerous look in her eye, taking a long sip of her drink before bubbling into laughter.

Daryl snorted, almost downing his own drink in the hope the alcohol would provide him with some liquid courage. Tara was right, he could go on like this forever, who knew how long either of them had, it would be his biggest regret.

The bottle of wine was empty far too quick, Y/N’s eyes hooded, her body relaxed and flaccid, her hand resting comfortably on his thigh as they spoke. 

Daryl felt like he was on a sensory overload, his ears trying intently to listen to what Y/N was saying but his mind was stuck on the way her fingers were playing with the hole in his jeans, his eyes drawn to her wine stained lips, wondering if they tasted as good as they looked.


The soft sound of his name from her beautiful lips caught his attention, his eyes snapping back up to hers. 

It’s like she could read his mind, her lips parting, eyes widening ever so slightly in what looked to be realisation. 

Fuck it. It was now or never.

“Wanna try somethin’.” His voice was so hoarse he wasn’t even sure it was him speaking. “Ya want me ta stop all ya gotta do is say, alright?”

Y/N gave a small nod, heart fluttering as Daryl breached the small gap between them, his hot breath fanning across her lips.

Nerves caused her to close her eyes, heart soaring as his warm mouth finally covered her own. 

Daryl was waiting for her draw back, her moment of realisation that this is really not what she wants. But that moment never came.

Instead her head tilted, keeping their mouths locked together as she opened up to him, kissing him deep and slow.

His hands struggled to find somewhere to rest, skimming up and down her sides, not sure what was deemed appropriate. Daryl was relieved when Y/N grasped his hands in her own, clasping them securely around her hips.

Her own hands found purchase at his neck holding him close to her as his tongue dared out to swipe across her lower lip. 

Daryl was right, she did taste as good as she looked, groaning in satisfaction before the reality of the situation came crashing down around him and he abruptly pulled away.

“Daryl-” Y/N protested.

“m’sorry,” he apologised immediately, “didn’t mean ta jump ya that way.”

“Didn’t think you ever would,” Y/N said shyly, biting at her lower lip and looking down.

Daryl processed her words, trying to decipher them before responding. “Ya sayin’ ya wanted me ta?”

“I mean,” Y/N started, pushing her hair back off her face, a visible flush going from her cheeks right down to her chest, “I hoped you would, but I never thought…”

“Yer kiddin’ me right?” Daryl deadpanned. “Ya have no idea…shit, no goddamn idea how long I’ve wanted ta do that.”

Y/N tilted her head at him, a soft smile playing on her lips. “And this isn’t just the wine talking?” 

“Nah,” he said determinedly, “fuck, Y/N, I ain’t never felt like this for no one before.”

Y/N grinned then, arms wrapping slowly around his neck so he couldn’t escape. “Are you saying you love me Daryl Dixon?”

He rolled his eyes at her teasing but shit if he was going to deny it any more.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m sayin’.”

Send me a Daryl x Reader or Negan x Reader prompt!

BTS Reaction To You Being Obsessed With KHipHop Artist

Request: BTS reaction to you being obsessed with khh artist??

A/N: I included a few k-r&b artist as well.

Namjoon: “Jagiya pay attention to me! Stop playing Simon D’s songs I feel like you’re more of his girlfriend that you are mine.”

Originally posted by bwiyomi

Taehyung: *Would start rapping along with Giriboy’s latest song getting a bit more hyped up then you*

Originally posted by chokemejimin

Hoseok: “Are you drooling over Dean again?!”

Originally posted by hoseokayo

Jin: “You’ve been staring at Gray’s picture for way too long come appreciate my face instead.” 

*Y’all can’t take this however you want ((((;*

Originally posted by jinkooks

Jungkook: The both of you would be obsessing over Zion.T so it’s all good.

Originally posted by ky-ngsoo

Yoongi: “How much longer are you going to be watching the same Jay Park fan cam? I need to use the computer.”

Originally posted by agustdefsoul

Jimin: “Yeah Jooyoung looks cool but he’s not cute like me right jagiya?”

(When is Jooyoung coming back that’s the real question)

Originally posted by suga-com

kcg4  asked:

Hi Charity as you are an ENFP I wanted to ask you how to do you see Si and Te in you? How was it clear for you that you were Ne dom and Fi aux and not the contrary? You said in the past that you cinsidered yourself socially introvert or shy, which I think is my case and I'm not sure about INFP or ENFP for me. Thanks a lot

My main way of recognizing my status as an extrovert, beyond my need for external stimulation all the time (NOTHING HAS HAPPENED IN TEN MINUTES, MY LIFE SUCKS) is that I am not a Fi-dom. So excuse me, while I once again travel into the land of indecisive Ne to illustrate my point; then I will return to your initial question.

If you compare the INFPs on this blog to the ENFPs, you will notice that the INFP’s Fi is often very prominent and “runs the show.” This is also true with real life INFPs, who as judging dominants, have and express very strong opinions. Since they are in contact with their inner self most of the time, they often know what they like and dislike, what they want to do or refuse to do, and how they FEEL about most things. There is rarely indecision on that point, especially when it comes to the strength of their inner moral focus.

While I have extremely strong opinions in a few areas, in the broader scope of reality, I am far more indecisive and disconnected from my feelings, to the point where half the time, I rationalize them out with Te, or question my “right” to feel this way at all, rather than just use them. Something I admire about INFPs is they tend to be more decisive than I am, especially in their likes and dislikes. As a Ne-dom, my likes and dislikes can change from day to day.

An INFP I know had a fight with her friends once and door-slammed all of them. She knew how she felt, that they were dissing her opinions and not respecting her true self, and after she had enough, she was done. And she did not waffle on that decision. She just quit. She made up with them much later on, but only after her temper cooled, and she had space and time to mature in her own way (and they matured also). She knew what she wanted: them gone. For now.

I complained the other day to my mother about Elizabeth of York in Philippa Gregory’s novel / miniseries, The White Princess. She is so indecisive. She changes her mind from one chapter to the next about who she is, what she wants, and answers “I don’t know” to half the questions posed to her. Some days she likes her husband, some days she doesn’t; she intends to give up on him, then turns around and falls for him again. It’s seriously annoying.

Once I got done with my rant, my mother smiled and said, “So she’s basically you, in literary form.”

Gee, thanks mom.

My mouth hung open for a couple of seconds, while my Fi had a little tantrum, and then my Te immediately snapped in and I went: “I guess. But I’d make a BAD heroine. Heroines need to be decisive! Books need plots! Heroines need to know what they want, or at least figure it out, and get there, not be lost in indecision! The plot must move forward!”

Unlike me. =P

Ne-dom makes me changeable. And it annoys me. One day, I might want this. The next day, I might not. One day, I might decide that this friend sucks. The next day, I might think I was wrong and they’re awesome. They did not change. My Ne flipped the situation around for a different perspective. It runs right over my Fi and what it wants, all the time. This means that I either do not KNOW what I want or cannot ADMIT to myself what I want, nor give myself permission to want it. It annoys me, it annoys my parents, it annoys my friends, and it annoys my cat. But that’s how it is.

I WISH I had some Fi to haul Ne’s ass into a chair and decide: NOPE. But no, instead Ne hauls me around with Fi going “Um… I don’t know how I feel yet?”

But anyway, rant aside: back to your question.

How do I see Si and Te in me?

I see Te a lot when I ‘temporarily loop’ in order to avoid dealing with my feelings. I do not LIKE my feelings. I consider them a major pain in the butt. When my grandpa died, I was a wreck before it happened. I didn’t even know him that well, but it took him a long time to die. His organs slowly shut down. I was so immersed in the pain of what was happening to my loved ones, that I cried way more than any of them. But after his death, my Te immediately kicked in. Mom wanted to clear out his house. Like, immediately. That’s how she copes.

So we did. I put aside my emotions, went into that house, and went through all my grandparents’ stuff. We filled a dumpster. I organized everything we decided to keep in piles for the family to choose from after the funeral. A lot of my decisions were people-motivated – my cousins loved playing these games with Grandma. Shall we keep them? I’ll make sure they have all the pieces and put them in nice piles. I did the funeral video. Everyone needs a Ne-dom for that. It wasn’t just about Grandpa, it was about his life. His dreams. His parents. The culture he grew up in. I managed the voice-over, without falling to pieces.

And then, I moved on.

My Si is very poor. I may be adverse to CHANGE when people announce it (and I have to deal with it a lot, my parents literally cannot live six months without changing their house around, the yard, etc) but I am not stuck in the past. Half the time it never comes to my mind. The past flows beyond me. A day can seem a week ago, and three years ago can seem like yesterday. I gaped when a friend showed me a picture recently with 2014 stamped on the bottom. That was that long ago!? My grasp on time sucks. My awareness of time sucks. My own carelessness with time… sucks. A Si-friend recently said, “You should take more pictures with your cat. You will want them when she’s eventually gone.”

I stared at her. “I will?”

See, I don’t think like that. When people, places, things, are gone, I miss them. I love them. I still think about them sometimes, but they are gone. I do not pour over pictures. I do not sit and endlessly talk about the past. I do not want to think about the past. I moved on.

Sometimes, people tell me I should slow down, or take more time with that, since they do not want me to “look back one day, and regret this moment.”

Thing is, that probably won’t happen. I rarely go back.

Unless I hurt someone badly, and never received their forgiveness, or am beating myself up about something I should have done to stop something bad from happening, I don’t look back and regret. You cannot drive a car staring into your rear view mirror. In that way, I am careless. But I don’t know how to NOT be careless. Things matter right now, and then they’re gone. I loved that show, but it’s canceled. There’s new stuff to watch. I take in so much of it (as a Ne-dom), only a few things stick longer than six months.

And sometimes, I desperately want them to stick. I sit with someone or something loving it, immersed in its beauty, and think, “How can I hold onto it? I already feel it slipping away! WHY CAN’T I APPRECIATE THIS MORE?”

Inferior Si.

This is going to sound weird, because it is weird. But, under stress… I start obsessively tinkering with sensory elements. I’ve been editing and rewriting a book for what seems like forever (forever to me is four months, but I don’t want to talk about how this is the eighth draft of the fourth version of this book in two years) which is very tedious, Si-driven work. My Te is happy to help out with deadlines, and charts, and word counts, and I have a nice little sheet of paper with things marked on it, where I enter my progress each day to keep myself motivated. But I swear on my soul, yesterday when I opened the file, my Si went nuts and said: I don’t like this font. It curls funny. Change it.

So I did.

And then I sat there for at least ten minutes, changing the font, again and again, then the sizing several times. I printed out a page to see how it will look in book form, then promptly forgot which configuration I used (poor Si!) and had to print several more sheets in different sizes. I never did figure out which was the font and what size I used for that first sheet. (Shame, I like it the best.) Then I resized the file across my screen, to try and get the font to ‘curl’ how I like it, so I could read it. I cannot read it, unless it’s the right size. And font. And I must edit so there are no paragraphs that end with one word on the next line.

(Are you laughing yet? Is that not pathetic? Welcome to my life.)

Screw inferior Si. It’s bullshit.

I never know how to say this without hurting feelings but… Fi-doms are sensitive and since INFPs have higher Si, they do not forgive you fast.

Think about two terrific insults against NFPs (from future husbands) in literature and compare them to how you process things.

Gilbert Blythe pulls Anne Shirley’s braid and calls her carrots. The little INFP smashes her slate against his head and screams at him in class. She then tells Diana “the iron has entered my soul: I shall never forgive him,” and proceeds to ignore him, compete with him, and refuse to speak to him. For years. Gibert has to grovel to get on her good side, many times. She is super sensitive and her emotions flare up immediately. “You hurt me EXCRUCIATINGLY,” she says. She means it. He DID.

Mr. Darcy insults Lizzie’s appearance (she is not handsome enough to tempt me into a dance – ie, she’s not that pretty) in Pride & Prejudice. ENFP Lizzie gapes at him, then promptly turns it into a joke. She never brings it up again. She’s mad, but more mad about what he does to Jane than his insult. She finally confronts him when he proposes, but not about that. No, it was not the insult that hit her; it was the impression she formed of his character, based on it. And when he writes her a letter that basically calls out her family for being loud, obnoxious, inappropriate trash, she is pissed but has enough high Te to realize: he has every right to feel that way about us, based on what he saw. Once she realizes WHY he thinks how he does, her anger cools. And her mind changes about him. The anger dissipates.

Did he hurt her? Sure. Deeply? Not so much.

Someone walked up to my INFP the other day and insulted her appearance. It hurt. A lot. She will probably never speak to him again.

A person insulted me to my face at dinner a few years ago. He basically implied the people I work with and the caliber of their work is poor, and I should do a better job selecting the material we work on together. (IE: Wow, you suck.) I bitch-slapped him good with a Te-snarl comeback and … promptly moved on. I was mildly annoyed by it, and it certainly colored our interactions from that point on, but I wasn’t hurt by it so much as annoyed. We stayed “friends.”

I can count the number of times people have actually hurt my feelings on one hand. My Te is strong.

How do I know this?

I’m one of the first people to come up with a rational, non-emotional “fix it” to problems. I often discount my own feelings or put them aside entirely, to get a job done. I remember one time, a friend PM’d me after I wrote a movie review and said, “But did you LIKE it?? You wrote an excellent review, but it was so non-emotional I don’t even know what YOU thought of it.” I criticized the poor elements and talked about the good ones, but there was none of “me” there.

I admit, I was a little more emotionally reactive as a child / young teeanger, but Fi still wasn’t running the show. Most Fi-dom children are very sensitive. When asked what I was like, various family members (without consulting one another) have laughed and said, “Your focus was on being a comedian. You wanted to make people laugh. But you were not especially emotional.”

I’m not. It’s true. Sometimes to my own determent.

- ENFP Mod

PS: If you get to the end of this certain you are an NFP, but you don’t know what you do in a situation in order to compare it to Lizzie or Anne’s emotional reactions, congrats: that’s shitastic inferior Si. You are an indecisive Ne-dom.

10 things to appreciate in the Don’t Wanna Cry MV

1. Production value, from green screen with sand to a REAL desert with sand (overseas)
2. ALMOST even line distribution
3. Aesthetics
4. Hansol’s opening line
5. Hiphop team no longer stuck in i’m-only-allowed-to-rap dungeon
6. Jeonghan’s screen time
7. Jeongcheol must-have touches in MVs
8. How much Joshua’s dancing has improved (go stare at him)
9. Choreography formations (can’t wait to see the dance versions. in front behind, right & wrong versions)
10. Everyone is given a chance to shine <3

okay but i think a lot of people don’t appreciate how beautiful donghyuck really is like ??? sure he may not be the conventional kind of beautiful that would have you stop and turn around for a second look if you were walking down the street, but rather the kind of beautiful where the longer you stare at him the prettier he becomes and the more you fall in love with him and every day you keep asking yourself what it is about him because wowie he is so so so pretty ??

anonymous asked:

Hello :) So it's my birthday today and I thought I'd ask my favorite blog for an imagine hihi. You’re Bucky's girlfriend but recently you barely had time together so one time after he came back from a long mission, you wait for him in the bedroom wearing his favorite lingerie and when he comes in the bedroom, still in his uniform he’s immediately all over you and you spend the whole night in passionate love making and later cuddling ? :**

Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Fandom: MCU
Warnings: S M U T 

A/N: FIRST OF ALL, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANGEL!!!! I hope it’s a fantastic one and all your wishes come true! then, oh my god, that compliment, thank you so so so so much, you literally made my entire week. I loved your prompt and let me tell you, this is a LOT of smut so I hope this is what you were hoping for lol.


“(Y/N)? I’m home,” Bucky closed the door behind him and threw his backpack on the couch in the living room.

No response.

“Babe? Are you home?”

He took a quick look around, his first thought being that something could’ve happened to you, but everything looked fine. 

Just like it did when he left.

Three. Freaking. Months. Ago.

This had been his longest mission yet and you had missed him terribly.

Once he opened the door to your bedroom, he realized just how badly.

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✿without thinking✿

↳ Simon x Reader

Requested: can you do a simon imagine where he’s just acting like a complete asshole to some guy who was hitting on you and there’s angst and fluff and stuff because you didn’t know he felt that way?

Warnings | swearing

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