the eyes were so pretty i paused the movie just to cap it

Worse Than Nicotine

Prompt: “You’re the health-conscious med student and I’m the chain-smoking art student who’s also your barista and you leave me notes on smoking and lung health on your napkins and also a 20-page essay on lung cancer tucked under your saucer” AU. Where Sirius is the chain-smoking art student.

Word Count: About 5,500.

Warning(s): Smoking, sexual tension, kissing, motorcycle ride without all the gear. Don’t accept a ride from someone on a motorcycle unless they supply the proper gear and you’re wearing pants and a heavy jacket, preferably. Do some research before riding!

Note: Sort of a modern, college AU. This isn’t smut, but, I have to warn you, it does end up being smoking hot. Hah. Get it? Anyway, thank you @princesse-de-ravenclaw for reading this over!

To the barista with the pretty grey eyes,

Smoking can cause the lens of the eyes to fog up and the whites of the eyes to turn yellow. Don’t ruin their beauty. If not for yourself, then for those who have the pleasure of seeing them. ;)

Love, Y/N.

Sirius rolled his eyes, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he pocketed yet another note from you. If you were to open a spare drawer in his flat, you would find a collection of tossed napkins with rushed scribbles littering the surface. Maybe one day Sirius would take your insistent advice, but right now, all he wanted was a drag.

“Another love letter from your favorite med student?”

Keep reading

up on heaven’s boulevard

wordcount: 1965

summary: a meditation on nail polish, set march 2017.

genre: kind of thoughtful, mostly sweet.

warnings: nothing beyond mild language.

a/n: i wrote this a couple of weeks ago, and then my boy dan took a selfie and captioned it “post the nail polish fic. it’s time.” happy easter, too. (title from stars by grace potter & the nocturnals)

Keep reading

Close as Strangers: Chapter 13

Close as Strangers: Chapter 13

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: High School au, fluff, angst

Paring: Jungkook x Reader

If anyone out there is still reading this. I love you.

Parts: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven |eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve 

You’d gotten back from Florida yesterday evening and now it was time for school. You felt like it had been forever since you had been in class. Either way, you hated it. You were in anthropology with all the the boys, except Jungkook, when Yoongi leaned over to you during the lesson. “Can you believe we basically have less than two months of school left?”

Keep reading

Sneak Preview!

So my short one-shot for @elsewhereuniversity has become a 7,000 words and counting story. Since I’m still working on it I figured I’d give ya guys a sneak peak at it!


Your new roommate greets you with a smile, clothes like a bunch of sharpies threw up on them, and an extended hand.

“Hi, I’m Reagan!”

You take the hand, note the faint scars crisscrossing like a maze across the skin.

“Um, hi.”

They are so short they have to tip toe to look over your shoulder. “Do you need any help with your stuff?” You shake your head and Reagan nods, still smiling, before leaving the door open and going back to their side. “Kay, just let me know if you do.”

They are wearing the shoes that light up when you walk and you had no idea those came in adult sizes. Or maybe their feet are small? You pick up your first bag and enter the dorm, prepared for your first year at university.

You are not prepared, however, for the cat that sits on your roommate’s bed.

“Uh… we’re allowed pets here?”

Reagan looks up from their laptop, looking confused. “Pets?”

You put your bag down on your side of the room and point to the black long haired cat curled up on their tie dye sheets. Reagan follows your finger and blinks at the cat.

“That’s not a pet. That’s Skooma.”

Pause. “Like in Skyrim?”

Reagan gives you another grin. “Naw, I played Morrowind.” Nervous laughter. “I’m old.”

“I’m still pretty sure we’re not allowed cats.”

Their face goes blank and they stare.  If it weren’t for the blinking you would think they’d died or something.

“It’s… Skooma.”

Clearly, you aren’t getting anywhere about this. You’d just wait for an RA to find out or a teacher or something. It would be sad but you didn’t want to get into trouble. You put your first bag down and go to grab your other two. The meeting is at noon so you have some time to unpack and get things situated. You glance over at your roommate’s side, wondering how they’ve set their stuff up. Reagan is sitting against the wall, laptop on their lap and typing with a speed that sort of intimidates you. They haven’t even removed their shoes. Actually… now that you’re looking at their side it’s kinda… bare. Their sheets are bright tie dye that hurts to look at, there’s a rolling Hello Kitty suitcase beside the bed, and their desk is empty except for a brown, round bed, supposedly for the cat still curled up on the sheets. Other than those things the entire side of their room has no trinkets, posters, not even a litter box.

You wonder if it would be rude to put up your own posters. You eye your small framed photo’s and the Furby you’d brought. No, no, you couldn’t let something like this intimidate you. It was stupid. Who cared what your roommate did. You pull out your posters and sticky tack and try to artfully arrange them on the walls. The photos and Furby are put on your desk along with your brand new Graduation laptop.

“You might want to take the batteries out.”

You jump, in the middle of pulling out clothes and hanging them in the shared closet. “Uh… what?”

Reagan has a pair of thick, expensive looking headphones around their neck, squooshing their face. “That Furby. You should take out the batteries. Might end up hearing things you don’t want to.”

You can only stare at such a weird request.

Reagan smiles. “Just a suggestion.” They put the headphones back on and continue working on their laptop. Somehow, the cat has migrated to their lap and the computer is almost falling off their knees but they don’t seem bothered.

You wait but when they don’t do anything else you put away the last of your clothes. Reagan’s side of the closet isn’t as bare as their side of the room, at least. Just… very bright. You think some of the sneakers are heely’s for goodness sake. Who even wears those anymore? You check the time. It’s almost noon and you just know you’ll get lost on your way to the freshman meeting. You put on a new t-shirt and grab a small jacket just in case. You’re out the door before pausing. Wait… You poke your head back in.

“Uh…” Can they even hear you with those headphones on? Yet Reagan pulls them off and looks up expectantly. “Um, are you coming?”

The smiling is starting to creep you out. “To what? The freshman meeting? God no, I’m definitely not a freshman!”



“Pffft, the look… no, no, my old roommate, uh, left and I guess they had to stick someone in here.” They reach down and scratch the cat’s ears. “If you don’t like bein’ my roommate just give it a bit and I’m sure some rooms will open up.”

“Um… kay. Well, I guess I’ll see you later?”

Reagan waves with their unoccupied hand then yelps as their laptop takes a tip. You leave to muttered cursing and something that sounds like hissing air.

You only get lost once on your way to the meeting and so you’re quite early. A cheerful older student comes up and gives you a nametag. She tells you to write your name on it, but not your true name. Whatever that means. You’re staring at the nametag in confusion (do you put your full name? What the heck is a true name?) When another student comes up to you. He’s got a bit of a beard and his curly hair barely fits under his University cap.

“Havin’ some issues?”

“Uh, yeah. I was told to put my name on it but… not my true name?”

He wrinkles his nose and sighs. “Best to go with a nickname. Make ‘em happy, eh?”

It’s still weird but you put a nickname anyways and peel off the back to stick it to your t-shirt.

“Well, anyways, my name’s Harris.” You shake his hand, calloused and rough.

‘Uh, well, you already know mine.” You point to your tag.

“Now I do. What’s your room number? I’m pretty sure I can find your RA for you, I know ‘em all.”

You have to pull the crumpled piece of paper from your pocket and peer at your writing. “Um… I’m in room fourty-four floor four.”

When you look back up from putting the paper away you freeze. Because he’s… he’s staring at you with something like fear or pity.

“So, uh, fourty-four floor four, huh. Um… you met your roommate yet?”


He nods shakily. “Good. That’s… good.”

“Is… is something wrong? They’re not some sort of murderer or something are they?”

“What? No, no.” He wipes his hands on his jeans. “Just… be careful, kay?”


“Is this about the ca-”

His hands clap around your mouth and holy shit you thought people only did that in movies.

“Nope. Nothing to do with them. Or it. Or anything.” You duck away from his gross, sweaty hands and give him a dubious stare. “Well, uh, the RA for floor four is that girl in the blue jacket.” He takes off, giving you looks over his shoulder.

Your RA gives you an absent nod and a smile before returning to her phone and you sit in a provided chair. You thumb on your own phone, blessed anti-social device. Noon passes and when the stragglers thin, the RA claps to get attention and smiles at everyone. You half listen to the speech. Some of it seems odd (carrying iron? Salt? The bowls by the doors had to be filled with milk?) but most was the usual stuff you had already read in the papers they hand out. Yes, you read them.

But, then…

“Oh, and who is staying in room fourty-four?”

You blink. What. Cautiously, you raise your hand and shrink when everyone looks at you.

The RA, you already forgot her name, smiles at you. “Excellent, I have to speak to you after the tour, okay?”

You nod, what else could you do? As the RA continues on, a girl beside you, glasses taking up half her face and hair pulled into a ponytail pokes you in the shoulder.

“What’s so special about room fourty-four?” She whispers through a lisp.

You shrug.

The boy on the other side of her leans over, almost falling into the girls’ lap and she pushes at his shoulder. “Do you have a single room?”

You shake your head. “No, I have a roommate.”

Both of them stare at you. The girl pulls at her skirt. “Who is it?”

“Um, they’re not a freshman. So… they’re not here.”

The boy smacks his hand on the back of the girls chair. “What? No way!”

The RA clears her throat, staring at them pointedly. The two shrink back, still giving you looks. You hope you can avoid them when the tour starts. As usual, it is not to be, and the two corner you as the group is herded together.

“So,” The girl starts. Her nametag says Bea in looping, over exaggerated cursive. “You have a roommate in a freshman dorm building who’s not a freshman?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s what I said.”

They stare at you. You stare back.

The boy, his nametag says Gary in blocky, thick pen, throws up his hands. “Well?! You can’t just say that and then not explain anything!”

You open your mouth, to say <i>i can’t tell if they’re female or male and everytime i think of asking i can’t they have a cat that doesn’t look like a cat and they smile too much</i> but the words catch in your throat and you don’t say anything.

Bea scowls at you, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever. C’mon, Gary, we’ll probably see this mystery roommate eventually.” she stalks off in her high heels, skirt swishing about her knees. Gary gives you a glare before following.

You wonder if you’ve lost some potential friends.

“Well, they were rude.”

You yelp and whirl around, your own hair smacking into your face.

Reagan smiles at you, wearing an eye searing orange hoodie and bright pink sweatpants. They are pulling their Hello Kitty suitcase behind them and you have no idea how you didn’t hear them approach.

“I was just heading out and saw you about to start your tour so I decided to say hi.” They tsk and shake their head. “But instead I hear some truly rude people. Those two won’t make any friends like that. Are you okay, though?”

You work your jaw and give them a watery smile. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” For some reason the question makes the two’s snubbing hurt even worse.

Reagan looks into the distance, seeming lost in thought. It goes on long enough you shuffle uncertainly. Just as you’re about to speak they meet your eyes and give you a grin. “Don’t worry about people like them. Oh! Here, you should wear this.” They reach into their hoodie pocket and pull out a bead bracelet. It’s made of those cheap plastic beads you get in kid jewellry making kits. All you can tell is that the colours are bright and many, pinning down the pattern or naming any makes your head hurt.

You accept it.

For some reason you slip it onto your wrist. It’s made of that stretchy string you get in the kits and easily fits. Against your wrist you can see some of the beads are the white letter ones and you flip them over.

Your name.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your tour. See ya!” Reagan turns, the suitcase making no noise as it runs over the gravel. Their hood is bulging outwards and you can see a black, fluffy tail draped over the edge. Two bright yellow eyes stare at you.

You are not sure when you return to the group. The tour guide’s don’t mention it, in fact they avoid looking at you altogether. You listen to the speeches about the cafeteria and how to use meal points. You follow as they show everyone the library, the on site gym, hand out maps for campus. You rub the bracelet, feeling the square beads in between the round ones.

You… are pretty sure you never told anyone your full name.

Nothing you own has your full name on it.

Only your student number was on your assigned room sheet.

After the tour everyone is herded into the cafeteria for lunch (provided by the school specifically for the freshman). You find your floors RA and tap her on the shoulder. She turns, giving you a customer service generic smile.

“Uh, you wanted to see me after the tour?”

The other older students she was talking to peer at you curiously. Harris is the only one actively avoiding looking at you.

“Oh! Excellent, just give me a sec, you guys.” You follow when she walks into an unoccupied corner. “Okay, your roommate was there when you went to your room, right?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Thought so. So the… uh, previous roommate left some stuff and I figured you could use it.”

“What? Like… clothes? Shouldn’t that stuff be given to, um, someone else?”

She laughs and reaches into her pocket. “Not that kind of stuff.” She pulls out a bag of dried salmon cat treats, a small toy mouse, and a pair of glasses with one of the lenses cracked.You take it because she won’t stop holding the stuff out to you expectantly.

You stare at it. “Um, doesn’t this cat stuff belong to my roommate?”

She shakes her head. “You’ll need it. But don’t wear those,” she points to the glasses. “All the time. They’re brushed with iron. Don’t want to see stuff you shouldn’t!” She laughs, too bright, too loud. “Well, good luck!” And she leaves you standing there with an armful of weird cat things and a pair of useless glasses. You don’t even wear glasses. Actually… you touch the lenses. They’re plastic.



Playboy!Namjoon Pt. 4

(Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3)

{Warning: smut ahead!}

You’re a sweaty mess as you open the door to him, who’s standing outside your door in Levi’s jeans and a green long sleeved shirt, a black cap and mask keeping him from being too obvious about who he is. Which isn’t all that necessary, your condo was mainly made of all kinds of celebrities who valued their privacy above everything. The security was top grade, which was why you even decided to live here.

“Hi, come on in.”  you greet him, stepping aside for him to come in. He takes off his shoes, making you smile at his Ryan socks. “Did you had a nice trip?”

“Do you know you live pretty far?” he answered instead, taking the cap and mask off as well, letting you finally see his full bare face. “How do you even manage to go to places? Do you take a cab every time? How are you not broke yet?”

You scoffed. “Of course not, I have a car. It’s that my food?”

“Yeah,” he offered you the bags, the smell making your stomach growl. “ I didn’t knew what kind of cake you liked so I bought four different ones.”

You clutched your heart dramatically, wiping an invisible tear from your face. “Kim Namjoon, are you even real? You bought me four kind of cakes?”

He smiled looking around at your apartment. The soft yellow walls adorned with different kind of plants and flowers, the pictures on the walls. He walked over to you vinyl and book collection, picking a book up and reading its title. “I like your house. I love plants.”

“Me too. I wanted to be near nature, even living in this apartment.” you explained. Then, you pointed at the tv. “Feel comfortable to roam around, watch something on netflix or whatever., there’s drinks in the fridge I need to take a shower, it’ll be quick.”

He nodded, settling himself on the couch,.making a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“Take your time, don’t worry.”

You cleaned yourself thoroughly, using you favorite body wash. With a week of rest, you were looking your best, if you could be so modest. You quickly dried your hair, putting on your comfiest pair of lounge clothes. A oversize grey shirt and black leggings. You didn’t feel the need to dress up. Namjoon would understand the need to not be all made up. Wearing makeup reminded you of your job, so you just couldn’t bother. Besides, you thought, you when Namjoon were texting so much lately you felt comfortable enough to be this casual around him.

You made your way to the living room again, leaning against the couch, watching as a moody looking guy ran around a mountain and sparkled like a disco ball with a pale girl on his back. Namjoon, realizing you were there, quickly paused the movie.

“Were you watching Twilight?”

“….maybe.” he conceded, a little unwillingly. “It’s a nice movie, okay? I enjoy the aesthetic value of it.”

“Okay. that I can understand, for a second I thought you had a vampire kink. Because I’ll be honest with you, vampires are only sexy if you’re into blood play.” You say, then paused as you scrutinized​ him again. “You’re not into blood play, right?”

He gives you a deep sigh that is as much exasperation as amusement at the same time. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Good.” you replied, then eyeing the box of chicken and the containers of slices of cakes on your coffee table, you continued “Because you’ve just became my favorite person, I would hate to downgrade you from that position.”

He laughs, shaking his head. Humming, you sit down. changing the movie to some random cartoon. You take a bite out of your chicken, letting out a sound of pleasure when the perfect amount of crispiness reached your taste buds.

“How can you make eating chicken look hot? People are suppose to look greasy doing that, not like they got straight out of a commercial.”

You clean your lips delicately with a napkin, smiling angelically at him. “Haven’t you heard? I’m actually a angel sent from heaven. I can show you at least 5 fan videos with that theory. And besides, I’m my group visual, it’s my job to look pretty.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that theory was true.” he nodded, then stretching his long arms and legs until his back was curving away from the sofa, he yawns.

“You look really tired, Namjoon-ah.” you note, your mother hen side not letting the concerned go unnoticed from you voice. “Are you sure you shouldn’t be at home resting? “

He gives you another reassuring smile, his dimples showing faintly. “It’s okay, even if I went home I would be even more tired. I love the boys, but sometimes I just wish I could sleep without having to stop some ridiculous fight. And you didn’t invited me over to hear about my problems.”

“It’s okay if you want to talk about what’s bothering you. Just because we’re doing this- you now, this thing, doesn’t mean we can’t be friends and talk.” You say, smiling brightly at him. “ And I get you. It’s hard being a leader and having more responsibilities than the rest of our members, having to take care of the group image and all that. Sometimes I worry so much about them I can’t even sleep. I don’t know how you manage to take care of 6 persons, I get exhausted just with my 3 babys.”

He chuckled in agreement.Taking the napkin from your hands, he throw it in on the coffee table, patting his lap after. “C’mere.” you oblige, straddling his hips. His hands caress the sides of your thighs lightly. He leans forward, his nose nuzzling your neck. Breathing deeply. after a second, he says “This is nice, talking. And you smell nice too.”

“I just showered, that’s why” you remind him, your voice coming out lower than before as he continues​ to run his nose along the line of your collarbones up to the point below your ear, making you shiver. Your hands come to his shoulders to keep yourself stable. You sigh with the feeling of him leaving featherlight kisses against your jaw. “Can you just please kiss me already? You’re such a tease.”

He looks up at you, his eyes darker than before. “Sure, princess.”

He kisses you softly at first, one of his hands moving from your thighs to your​ hips, pushing you down on his growing erection as the other one move to cradle your head, tilting it down as he deepens the kiss, hungrier than ever before. You moan lowly into the kiss as he ruts against you, making you feel that he is fully hard now. You start moving your hips as well, making him grunt this time. breaking the kiss to watch you as you rode his hips.

His hands move from the nape of your neck to cup your jaw, the tip of his thumb sliding across your lips, swollen and red from the kiss. You moved your head to catch it, sucking gently on him, swirling your tongue around. Namjoon gulped loudly, eyes glazed with lust.

“I promised you something, didn’t I?” You said, sliding down from his lap and kneeling in front of him. Smiling, you inched forward until your face was pressed against his crotch. Namjoon is already fully hard, and you moth at the material of his jeans, feeling his cock twitch again the denim.

“You don’t have to.” he says, voice ragged as you begin sliding his zipper down, pulling his jeans and boxers down enough so that you can finally reach Namjoon’s hard and flushed cock. You wrap your fingers around the base, pumping it sowly, a drip of precome dripping slowly from the dark head down his shaft, making him let out a husky moan. “I don’t want you to feel pressured.”

“I want to,” You answer honestly, bringing your lips down until they’re just barely touching his head, your breath on him making Namjoon shiver in anticipation. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you let him see the need in your own face. “I’ve been dying to do this since the first time you texted me. So just let me suck your dick and be happy, let me have this. ”

You lick his head, tasting him- salty and bittersweet, with the faint smell of whatever body lotion he uses, and when you finally suck him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the head, his hand come to your head and you have to resist the urge to grin smugly at the sound he lets out, needy and urgent, like he too had been waiting for this since the beginning.

Without warning, you bring your mouth down until your lips are touching your fingers, and very deliberately, you gulp, feeling his grip tighten as his hips buckle up. Slowly, you bring your head up, sucking hard, your tongue flat against the side of his cock as you do so, deepthroating him until he’s trembling, letting out deep groans of pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good at this,” the praise has you moaning as his hips move, fucking himself into your mouth. Hearing it, he looks at you, surprise lacing his features for a second. “Really? Praising kink?”

“Don’t kinkshame me.” you say, your hands replacing your mouth. “ It’s not my fault I like being recognized for being a good girl.”

Suddenly,his hand come down, holding your wrist in place and stopping your movements. “Hold up, I’m gonna cum if you keep up.” he warns, chest moving rapidly with his heavy breathing. He looks at you,  you with your lips swollen, looking utterly fucked, hair disheveled and needy eyes. “And I’m not cumming before fucking you like I’ve been wanting to all this time, baby girl.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the promise in his words and at the petname.

“We should go to my room then. My bed is perfect for that.”

He smiles, big and wolfish, like you’re his prey and he can’t wait to savor every piece of you. You take his hand. pulling him quickly towards the door that leads to your room. Closing the door behind him, he attacks your mouth again as you walk backwards​, until the back of your knees are hitting the bed and hes laying​ you down on it, hands delicately supporting you so that you don’t fall abruptly.

“Clothes.” you manage to gasp as he kisses you. “Take off. Wanna feel your skin on mine.”

He lifts your shirt over your head, groaning when he sees you’re not wearing a bra, cupping your breast with one hand. You do the same, quickly getting rid of his shirt, hands instantly roaming through his defined stomach.

“Are you going to have some schedule where you’ll have to show your belly sometime soon?”

“What? No, I don’t think so. Why?”

It becomes clear to you why when he sucks hard at the skin of your waist, bitting and leaving a red bruise in the place of his lips. He does that till he reaches your hip bones, nipping at the skin, teasingly kissing the hem of your leggings, his fingers massaging your ass as he lifts it so he can take it off, leaving you only in your black see though panties.

He just looks at you for a couple of seconds, eyes absorbing you half naked in your bed, hair sprawled around your head like a halo.

“You’re so perfect.” He finally lets out, head coming down again kissing your inner thighs. “So fucking perfect, I can’t wait to fuck you, angel. Been dreaming about this since the first time.”

You whimper at his words, lifting your hips, coaxing him to give you what you want. He complies, mouthing over your clothed sex. You let out a loud whine, telling him to just please eat you out already. Which he does, kissing your already swollen clit before he’s pressing his tongue against him, flat as he licked you languidly, seeming pleased with the way you moaned as he did so. He pressed one finger inside of you, moving it in rhythm with his tongue. He sucked hard on your bud, making you whimper as he inserted another finger inside of you. His mouth left you as he watched you trembling​ in your bed, his hand pounding in you.

“You taste so good, angel. Do you know that? You’re being so good for me, doing so well. Come for me, baby, i want to taste you as you scream.”

“Namjoon!” you moan his name, clenching around his fingers as his mouth suck at your​ pussy hard, his eyes locked with yours, watching you come undone with his mouth and fingers alone.

As you lay there, chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath, he slides up until his eyes are level with yours again, moving the hair stuck to your face away with his fingers. You reach your head out for his mouth, kissing him hungrily when you see the tent in his jeans again. “There’s condoms in the top drawer.”

He reaches for it, kicking his jeans and boxers out at the same time. You lift yourself with your arms, watching him roll the condom down his length and your mouth water again.   

He settles himself between your legs, cradling your face between his hands again as he stares at you again.

“You’re really beautiful. Like, really really beautiful” he says hoarsely, his voice even more melodic than usual. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”

You shiver hard in anticipation and you basically beg “Please, Joon.”  

He thrusts into you, and the stretch is so.pleasurable you both moan at the same time. He tries to give you time to get used to it, but you’ve never been known for being patient, and soon after you’re moving your hips, basically riding him for underneath. The message gets across, and then he’s pounding into you, holding one of your legs over his shoulder.

Fuck.”  you curse, biting down on your lips to avoid screaming in ecstasy as he hits your sweet spot again and again. You’re already over sensitive from your previous orgasm, and you see a new one approaching soon. “More, Joon, please. I’m almost-”

“You feel so good, angel. You take my cock so good.” he pounds harder into you, deeper, grunting into your neck. “Can you come for me again? I want to feel you coming on my cock like a good girl.”

“I’m - fuck- Namjoon!

Your vision turns white as you climax again, losing track at what you’re saying and the volume of your voice. Namjoon’s mouth finds your again, moaning your name as he too finish, you still clenching yourself around him as you milk him, you both still riding the aftershocks of your orgasms.

He leans his forehead against yours. “Fuck, that was… fuck.”

You laugh, understanding completely. Getting up,he walks to your bathroom to get rid of the condom as you just stay there unable to move, just your eyes following his naked figure. He come back with a warm damp towel, laying down next to you and cleaning all the bodily fluids that had coated you in the midst of probably the best sex of your life.

After he deems you clean enough, he pushes you your pink duvet on top of you both. You turn on your side, facing him. He has a strange looks in his face as he watches you attentively.

You trace his face with the tip of your fingers, since the outlines of his forehead, down to the slope of his nose, his full lips, his sharp jawline, his dimples, showing as he smile rather shyly at you, his hands caressing softly you waist, helping ground you again on earth.

“You’re really handsome.” you hear yourself say, just like he did before he fucked you exhausted. “Are you feeling a little less stressed? Did it help?”

He nods, cheeks flushed pink faintly. “Yes, this helped. But I’m still really tired, you were right. Maybe I should go home.”

You lift your head to look at the Totoro-shaped clock on your bedside table. “It’s past 1 am, Joon. You can stay, I don’t mind. I like cuddling, though, that’s the condition. You have to be the big spoon.”

He blinks, cheeks even more blushed. “I- yeah- I like cuddles too cuddles are cool. Are you sure it’s okay if I stay? I don’t want to intrude, It’s totally cool you if you don’t want me to, I can call a taxi in like five  secon-.”

Snuggling closer to him, you make yourself the little spoon, bringing his arm around your waist and making him go silent in the process. In this position you can’t see his face as you interrupt him, already sleepy. “Is okay, that was the best fuck of my life, I’ll even make you breakfast in the morning.”

He seemed to hesitate for a second, but then you can feel his nose nuzzle your hair. “Okay then, goodnight angel.”

Almost sleeping, you reply with a Good night Joonie. or at least you think you do, too exhausted to keep being coherent. You fall asleep with his arms around you, and the smell of his musky perfume on your sheets.

Which is okay, you manage to think before giving in to unconsciousness. Because it’s just a casual thing.


Cross Them Lines - Part 1

Summary: Reader and Chris Evans have been childhood best friends. After a disastrous night out, she calls him and fluff ensues.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (…eventually?)

A/N: This is probably going to be a few chapters long. LEAVE ME YOUR FEEDBACK! I live for those! <3

I stepped out of the club clutching my over-sized black leather jacket tighter to myself. I was cold and my little black dress clearly didn’t help.

Keep reading

Anti-Social (Rogers/Evans x reader)

I just like the universe where Steve and Chris exist together

You hadn’t been much for social media until you started working with the Avengers as their publicity manager, finding that it was a necessity to be able to do your job as well as to monitor what talk about the team had been happening in the world around them.   Steve had taken to it fairly quickly once Sam pushed him into getting a few accounts, none the more troublesome for you than his Twitter account.  Freedom of speech is one thing; but when Steve got on a hot topic that he was passionate about, it wasn’t uncommon for you to have to step in and shut him down.  

Keep reading

Sweet Dreams Sunshine (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: Sexual References, EXTREME FLUFF OVERLOAD

Word Count: 1,100+

Key: Y/F/M: Your Favourite Movie

I had just come back from a jog, I had been going for two hours, now I was all sweaty and puffed out.

I was only wearing my sports bra and some shorts, i was also wearing a cap over my ponytail and I had to admit- I looked pretty good.

My body was exhausted, I mean so was I, but mostly my body; I knew that tomorrow I’d be aching so bad.

“Hey- u, uh. Y/N.. what’ve y- you been doing..” he muttered breathlessly.

“I’ve been on a jog, why do you ask?” I chuckled at his nervousness, finding it adorable.

“Oh, u- uh. No reason you- you just look, uh, really- hot- I mean pretty, yeah, um, pretty”  He said awkwardly, blushing really hard this time.

Keep reading

Nico knew something was wrong when Will stopped talking.

After all of the years they’d known each other and had been dating, one thing that Will was consistently not was quiet. When he was happy, he’d chatter, when he was sad, he’d babble, and when he was irritated, he’d ramble. But rarely was Will silent. He even chatted through movie night, through dinner, before bed–an endless flow of conversation that Nico wasn’t sure he appreciated enough. When he didn’t feel like talking, didn’t have anything to say, Will was always eager to take over.

So, when Will didn’t hum on the car ride back home from dinner and hardly said anything about their post-date movie choice, Nico began to get suspicious. While the quiet in the car was one thing, Will’s lack of opinion on the film was unbeknownst to him. Will always had a say, even if it was just to complain about Nico’s choice.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” Nico accused, glancing up at Will. The blond had one arm wrapped around his shoulders, and Nico’s cheek was resting against his chest. The heartbeat that thudded in his ears was dull, but something told him that it was a little too quick.

“Mm, I just really like this movie…” Will murmured back, his voice vibrating in his chest, Nico hearing the words muffled and distorted.

“You’ve been quiet since dinner.” Nico chose then to pull away a bit, to sit up, and Will immediately glanced in the opposite direction. Frowning, the brunette wrinkled his nose and grabbed Will’s cheek. “Hey, don’t look away from me. What’s wrong?”

It took Will a moment to glance back, and Nico noticed the difference with ease. Will’s normally sunny face was a little ashen, clammy, and he had a bright flush across his cheeks. With a sigh, Nico raised a hand to feel his forehead. “How long have you been feeling like this?”

“Since just before dinner…” Will sighed, shoulders slumping. “I thought maybe I was just hungry, but I…” He paused, exhaling sharply. “I just feel sick now. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Nico asked, getting to his feet as Will followed him, slowly, with his eyes.

“For ruining date night. I knew you’d notice eventually, I just-“

Nico cut him off with a quick kiss to the cheek. “You didn’t ruin anything, you moron. Hang on, let me go get a thermometer.”

Things were okay for a little while. Will shifted positions to Nico’s lap when his temperature turned up at 100.4, and Nico had taken to stroking his hair. The movie kept playing, but at this point, Nico just considered it background noise. Will was clammy and warm an unhappy, and it was hard to move his focus anywhere but the feverish lump under the blanket.

Will had his eyes closed, and Nico had been wondering if maybe he’d fallen asleep, when the blond l.,m .shifted, made a pained noise, and pushed halfway into a sitting position. Before he could even ask what his boyfriend needed, the blond burped wetly, and up came a thin stream of vomit. It splashed down the front of his shirt, and Nico panicked a little.

“Shit, Will, why didn’t you say something?” Nico asked, unsure of what exactly to do. The thought of a trashcan flashed his mind as Will hunched forward and vomited into his lap. Nico scrambled after that, glancing desperately around the couch for something, anything, to make this situation less awful. After concluding that there wasn’t a trashcan near enough, he stood, grabbing Wills arm. Breathing an explicative, he waited briefly as Will took in a shaky breath.

“Can you make it to the bathroom?”

Will opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a small groan as he heaved another mouthful of vomit into his lap. Nico wrinkled his nose distastefully, a sparing glance noting that he hadn’t even finished throwing up dinner. How the blond had made himself eat while he was so nauseous was a mystery to Nico.

Truthfully, Nico wasn’t sure what to do next. Will’s lap was covered in their partially digested dinner, and while he seemed to be pretty okay keeping it down at the moment, he doubted it’d last for long. Not particularly fond of leaving him alone either, Nico decided that something to vomit in would be the best idea. It wasn’t as if a few seconds to run to the kitchen would ruin Will’s pants any more than they already were.

By some sort of miracle, Nico was to the kitchen and back with a bucket from under the sink before Will had to throw up again. Placing the bucket under Will’s chin, it occurred to him that he probably needed to be doing some sort of comforting, and he placed a hand on the blond’s back and began to rub in circles.

The rubbing elicited another heave, and the sound of vomit splashing into the bucket echoed back at them. Wrinkling his nose, Nico finally spoke up. “Just–get it all up, okay? We’ll get you cleaned up once you finished.” He promised, doing his best to keep his voice soothing.

Will nodded, cleared his throat, and spit into the trashcan. His throat had to be burning by now, and Nico gave a small, sympathetic sigh. After a few moments without any action, Nico set the bucket aside, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he was thankful that Will had only puked on himself and not on the couch.

“Alright, shirt off first, then we’ll work on the pants. Think you can handle getting change? As soon as we finish we’ll get you into bed with some water…”

Will nodded shortly, though the bobbing in his throat was already making Nico nervous again. The flush to his cheeks meant his fever had to have gotten worse, and it seemed like keeping his stomach inside of him was getting difficult again.

Peeling off Will’s shirt was one thing, Nico balling it up and setting it aside, but the pants were a different story.  First, they had to get Will to his feet, and then Nico had to try to keep vomit from getting anywhere other than his jeans, and he just getting the sticky, damp fabric away from his skin was a challenge. It was a disaster, honestly, and the way the fabric stuck made Will gag, but he managed to keep himself from losing it until he was in his boxers and back over the bucket.

Their walk to the bedroom was agonizingly long, Will hunched forward to keep the stomach cramps at bay, his face ashen and his freckles looking greenish. Nico held the bucket and kept a hand on the small over his back, guiding him to bed and sitting him down before going to gather pajamas and a bottle of water. Will hadn’t said a word since he’d started puking, and Nico didn’t blame him. With a warm washcloth, he rinsed Will off as best he could and got him a fresh t-shirt.

Will was compliable, lying back in bed without and complaint, the bucket kept in close reach. Nico made himself busy by tossing the clothes in the wash and finding some of that disgusting pink liquid that was supposed to help stomach troubles.

“I brought you some medicine, and you need to try to drink some water. Only a little, so we can see how your stomach will do..” Nico mumbled to himself, squinting at the directions on the bottle. “Here, one cap full.”

Will made a face at the medicine, sitting up slowly and swallowing deliberately. “Nico, I don’t think I can take that.” He croaked.

“It might help, Will–just try, for me, okay? It’s only a little bit.” The exasperation in his voice leaked out, and Will didn’t argue further, just took the little cup, wrinkled his nose, and tipped it back like a shot.

Nico was quick to offer the water, and Will took a couple of gulps before heaving at the edge of the glass. Nico drew the cup away, but he didn’t quite get out of the line of fire. Shoulders hunching, the pink medicine and the sips of water splattered down Nico’s shirt, and before he could totally panic, Will gagged and brought up more of his stomach contents. It was mostly watery, but it smelled awful and it was warm and sticky and goopy and Nico was so overwhelmed he nearly forgot that Will was violently ill. Another strangled noise from his boyfriend and Nico all but shoved the trashcan into his hands, just in time for Will to burp sickly and throw up whatever was left in him.

“Sorry.” Will croaked breathlessly from over the trashcan.

A glance down and Nico saw that not on was he covered in vomit, but it was on Will’s shirt, and on the carpet. With a low groan, Nico peeled his shirt away, balling it up and hoping he could get it into the wash with the other stuff before it was too late.

Will’s eyes were glassed over with fever, and despite the illness, he still managed to look ashamed. With a long, low sigh, Nico moved and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “It’s alright, I’ll clean it up. Lie down.”

Will looked hesitant to believe it, but after setting the trashcan aside and taking off his shirt, he curled gingerly on his side and held his abused stomach. “I love you.” Will said, voice wobbly.

Nico chuckled humorlessly. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, Solace, I don’t go cleaning up puke for just anyone.”

rated m for maybe a lil long
word count: 4,019
sugakookie scenario for flowerkook cause yoongi is not ur bias and good luck with finals and ur exam!! <3 

You are not good at math. Jungkook isn’t either. But maybe two brains really are better than one and well, a week before your final seems like a good time to test it out so lo and behold, you’re bowing your way into Jungkook’s house, which he tells you is empty over his shoulder, kicking his shoes off at the front door.

Keep reading

Reggie x Reader- request - Okay Reginald

Reggie x Reader 

Word Count: 2,130


anonymous asked: Can i ask for a reggie x reader where reggie tries to ask her out but she plays hard to get? thanks :)

A/N: I hope this is what you were looking for in your request. Thanks for reading, this was fun to write.

Taglist: @sgarrett49

Your year had started out a little different than the last. With the arrival of Veronica Lodge, and her friendship - you soon found a new confidence in yourself. And while you may have had a little bit different interests than the typical girl in Riverdale, there seemed to be a new glow around you.

Within the last few days in english class, you began to feel someone’s eyes on you. And with the pop of your head you would turn around and see no one staring. You shrugged it off while going back to the paper in front of you. However, you swear you could hear the faintest sigh that day.

After class you headed to your locker. You glanced at the inside of it, pictures of your favorite things staring back at you. Some pictures of some poets as well as a small flyer for Star Wars: A New Hope at the drive in, some pictures of friends - Veronica included, as well as mixture print outs of your favorite comics. As far as a small town like Riverdale was concerned - your tastes were a little out of the realm for a typical 16 year old girl.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I could really use some jack and shitty friendship awesomeness. Like maybe Jack is sad cause Bitty has an away game so Shitty visits for a slumber party or something?

**Just a slight warning for the consumption of weed brownies.**

Also, the way Shitty and Jack become friends is exactly how my best friend befriended someone.

Jack was listening to Bitty’s phone ring, planning on asking him to come spend the weekend when his eye caught a note on the calendar. It was an away game this week. That meant Bitty would not be coming, and Jack, after telling his own teammates he would have plans. 

Before he could hang up, though, Bitty answered the phone. “Hi, honey!”

“Hey, Bits.” Jack tried to think of what else to say. “Are you still on the road?” 

There were some giggles over the line. “No, we’re at the hotel. You forgot about the roadie, didn’t you?” 

“Of course not!” 


“Okay, I did forget and was calling to see if you wanted me to pick you up this weekend.” 

“Next weekend, instead?” 

Jack checked the calendar and breathed a sigh of relief. “That will be great, Bits. I look forward to it. Good luck at the game!” 

Ending the call, Jack stood in his kitchen trying to figure out what to do next. He toyed with the idea of calling up Tater or Snowy, remembering they’d both said they had plans for the weekend. 

Jack was about to settle for an early night of take-out and a documentary when there was banging on his door. 

The banging stopped, and Jack just shrugged. He had just about made it to the living room when the banging started again. This time when there was a pause, he heard someone shouting. “Zimmermann! Let me in, man!” 

Opening the door, Jack just stared in shock. “Shitty?” 

“Last I checked, that’s who I was. Let me in?” 

“Right. Yeah, sure. Come on in.” Jack stepped back and let Shitty inside, still trying to figure out what he was doing here. “Shitty, why are you here?” 

Holding up a six pack of beer in one hand and a duffle in the other, Shitty strolled into Jack’s living room and collapsed on the couch. He waited for Jack to join him before answering his question. “You’re not the only one who forgot about the roadie this weekend.”

Jack let Shitty pull him onto the sofa and laughed. “How close were you to Samwell when Lardo reminded you?” 

Shitty frowned and punched Jack in the arm. “Not that close.” 

“Were you on campus?” 

Pulling a beer from the pack, Shitty twisted the cap off and took a drink. “Fuck you, man.” Shitty elbowed Jack once with a smirk. “I came all the way over here because Bitty thought you needed company, and this is the reception I get?” 

Jack grabbed a beer for himself and leaned back on the couch. “Bitty worries too much.” 

“Nah, he just wants to see you happy and since I was already headed this direction, it made sense. And, anyway, we haven’t had any real bro bonding, in a long time.” 

Taking a sip, Jack rested against Shitty. He was right, it had been a long time since it was just them. Shitty was one of those people everyone knew but was also selective about who his real friends were. Jack felt lucky to be one of those people. Shitty had taken one look at Jack when they both started on the team, come over and said, “we’re going to be best friends.” 

Jack had just nodded at the pronouncement, thinking Shitty’s enthusiasm would fade. Instead, Shitty had proven him wrong and invited Jack to all sorts of things. He always made sure Jack was included and brought into conversations and had taken the time out to just hang out with Jack and get to know him one on one. 

“What else did you bring for tonight?” 

Shitty just waggled his eyebrows. “Lots of fun things.” 

Jack nudged Shitty with his arm. “Any chance you brought some special brownies?” Jack had never been good at actually smoking weed, but if Shitty or Lardo made edibles, Jack found he could actually enjoy the high. 

“Buy me dinner and you’ll find out.” 

**Some Chinese food and a couple brownies later** 

“We should build a fort.” 

“Oh my god, bro, Jack, man, you are right! We need a fort. It’s essential.” 

As they slid off the couch, they both started to giggle. Jack regained his composure first and began pulling the pillows and cushions off the sofa.

Shitty started construction while Jack went to get the blankets and pillows out of his room and the spares from the linen closet. When he brought them back, Shitty gave him a thumbs up and it wasn’t long before they had their pillow fort operational. 

After they’d crawled inside, Jack asked. “Now what?” 

Shitty laughed. “Now…we…watch a movie?” 

“Okay. But what?” 

Shitty patted Jack on the chest. “Leave it to me, Zimmermann. I will choose the best, most ‘swasome movie ever. Just you watch.” 

Rolling on his side, Jack fixed his eyes on Shitty. “I’m watching.” 

Shitty fished his laptop out and set it up in the fort. Feeling Jack’s eyes on him, he winked and pulled up a movie. Turning the screen so they could both see, Shitty hit play and waited. 

“Oh my god! This is the best movie!” 

Shitty preened. “King of movies.” 

Jack giggled some more. They were both quiet as they watched until a certain scene began and Jack asked: “What do you think Bitty would do if I dressed up as Dread Pirate Roberts?” 

Looking up from where he was resting on Jack’s shoulder, Shitty beamed. “Other than faint?”

Jack frowned. “Do you really think he’d faint?” 

“Nah, man, I’m just messing with you. Bittle would love it.” 

“He would. He could be my Buttercup. He’s pretty like her. Prettier actually. He’d like the ‘as you wish’ and we could find someplace private and-” 

Shitty covered Jack’s mouth with his hand. “Bro, no more. Please. Lardo would be a kickass Wesley though.” Shitty’s mind started to drift until Jack licked his hand. “Really, Zimmermann? Licking me? What are you? 12?” 

Jack shrugged. When he spoke again, he pitched his voice low, trying to be serious. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Soon to be a lawyer, that I am an adult.” 

“I like that. I think I’ll change my name. No more, Shitty Knight. Instead, I’m, Shitty Soon-to-be-a-lawyer. And once I pass the bar, I’ll be, Shitty Fuck-Yeah-I’m-a-Lawyer.” 

“You should find a way to shorten it. I’m not saying that mouthful.”

Shitty rolled over and held a hand to his heart dramatically. “You wound me, Jack. My best friend in this whole world! Won’t even say my new name!” 

Jack rolled his eyes and then rolled over onto Shitty. “Quiet, this is the best part.” 

As they continued watching the movie, there were multiple moments when they declared a scene the, “best part”. And by the time the credits were rolling, both Jack and Shitty were fast asleep in their fort.


Imagine being the first and only girl in the Penetrator Russ bus.

Author’s note: I like drama way too much for my own good hahahah here is part five guys! Sorry I let y’all waiting for too long. Now, I’m finally home and I can write as I used to. Also, please go show my beta writer Alyssa (@imyourliquor-youremypoison) some love. She is always taking time to fix my mistakes and helping me to improve. Check her fics with Chris too, because they’re incredible!! Let me know what you guys think about this part.

Part 1.

Part 4.

Part 6.

Masterlist ❁


Keep reading

Imagine browsing through your keepsake box with Chris.

A/N: Part 2 of Memory Lane, yay! It’s a little longer than usual so get comfy. Here are the links to the previous parts: (‘Memory Lane - Part 1’, ‘Drunk Minds, Sober Hearts and Baby Fever - Masterlist’)

You sat on the bed, browsing through your keepsake box filled with your life’s memorabilia. You couldn’t really call it your life’s memorabilia as it mostly consisted of mementos from your relationship with Chris; from the moment the two of you met until- well, now. There were other- some important, mostly trivial- bits and bobs: baby photos, old birthday and holiday cards, concert tickets, out dated passports filled with travel stamps, the key to your first apartment, etcetera; basically anything that reminded you of the best times of your life went into that box.

You enjoyed collecting things; you’d been collecting little mementos since you were a little kid. You’d been called a hoarder numerous times by several members of your family and friends, but you didn’t care. It was nice to be able to look back at different times of your life and reminisce; it also helped you feel less alone when Chris was away, and vice versa. It had also become tradition for the two of you to bring something back for each other, to add to the box after being away for work. Your last trip to London had you bring back a sweet postcard and a miniature black cab, whereas Chris added to the collection his air ticket- the one that brought him home to you a week early- and a miniature Captain America shield; a token from the cast and crew congratulating the two of you on your son.

“I’m curious.” You looked up as Chris exited the bathroom, wiping his hands with a towel. “Why didn’t you just call a plumber about the sink?” He raised an eyebrow and you shrugged. “So you’ve just been living with a leaky sink for five months? That’s very unlike you, Miss Perfectionist.” He teased and you chuckled.

“It only broke the other night,” you defended your perfectionist trait. “I was going to call a plumber, but then Captain America popped up on my doorstep.” You smiled when he chuckled, draping the hand towel on the back of a chair. “God,” you leaned into him and rested your head on his chest when he sat down and wrapped an arm around you. “I’ve missed you so much that I don’t even care that you’re all dirty from fixing the sink.”

“I’m not that dirty,” he chuckled, pressing his lips to your hair.

“Dirty enough,” you retorted playfully and he chuckled again. “Did the Russo brothers really let you go early, or did you lie and sneak off?” You looked up at him and asked. “I mean- Infinity War’s a huge movie, there is no way they could afford giving you pre-leave.”

“I may have told them you were going into labour early,” he said with a wince. You laughed because you knew he was joking. “No,” he chuckled. “They really let me go early. Remember when I FaceTimed you the other week? Seb came in because they were looking for me?” You nodded. “Well, they wanted to move my scenes forward so I could film them all and get home to you. Seb wasn’t lying when he said everyone was working double time,” he told you and you smiled. “The code word on set was Baby Cap. Whenever anyone got distracted, we used that to remind everyone that I had a pregnant wife waiting on me at home.”

“You work with some amazing people.”

“Yes I do,” he nodded. “I think it helps that you know Kevin Feigi and are friends with most of the cast, I feel like they were doing it more for you than me.” He admitted and you chuckled. “You know, if think about it-” he chuckled, “Marvel’s played a huge part in making our relationship what it is. I mean- we wouldn’t have even met if it weren’t for Captain America.”

“Remember how we met?” You asked and he nodded, chuckling. You sat up straight, leaned forward and reached for the Starbucks paper coaster that you’d scribbled your award winning screenplay ideas almost seven years ago.

“I remember how grateful you were when I gave you your coaster back,” he chuckled, taking the coaster from you. “I can’t believe that I was the reason you got that Oscar. You really should be more careful with your ideas,” he bopped your head with the coaster and you giggled.

“Can you believe it’s only been seven years?” You asked as you took the coaster back from him, smiling at your mini mind map that probably made no sense to anyone else who looked at it. “It seems like a lifetime ago.”

“Really?” He rested his chin on your shoulder. “'Cause I can remember it like it was yesterday.”
• • • • • • • •
Chris smiled as he watched the pretty girl in the red knitted scarf from the counter; you were furiously scribbling away on a paper coaster. The more he watched you, the more adorable he found you. You were clearly in the zone, working on something important, yet somehow you still had the time to pause to scrunch your face at the orange Gummi Bears and pick them out from the bag. He chuckled when he saw you pinch a red one from the bag, squishing it between your thumb and index while smiling to yourself.

“You’re definitely going to win me an Oscar.” You whispered to your coaster then smiled, drawing a small doodle of yourself holding an Oscar at the bottom of the square. “So cute,” you giggled to yourself then stopped when your phone buzzed.

Chris raised an eyebrow when he saw your eyes widen. You scrambled to your feet and frantically gathered your things, pushing them off the table into your open bag. You were in such a rush that you didn’t notice your coaster had not made it into your bag, but onto the floor instead. As you rushed out of the door, Chris saw the scribbled coaster on the floor. He picked it up and rushed out to look for you but you were gone, he sighed and glanced down at the tightly filled square. He smiled when he saw what you were working on, it wasn’t because he understood what you were writing- it was because your notes were visually appealing; your handwriting was cute and neatly printed, and everything was color coded. The best part about that small card was your doodles, the girl with the Oscar catching his eye. He didn’t know if he’d ever see you again or if he’d ever have the chance to return it to you, but he was definitely going to hold onto it just in case.
• • • • • • • •
You poked at your salad and sighed; your appetite completely gone after realizing you’d lost the coaster you’d scribbled your ideas on. You could probably remember some of what you wrote but it wasn’t going to be as good as it was the first time. You sighed again and heard Kevin chuckle; you looked up and winced when you realized you were being a total bummer.

“Sorry Kevin,” you chuckled softly. “I’m not being good company, am I?” He chuckled and shrugged, not wanting to agree with you because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. “I just-” you huffed. “There were some really good ideas on that coaster and-” You cut yourself off, groaning. “I should’ve just written it in my phone like I usually do but I just bought these really cool pens and- You know what,” you cut yourself off. “It’s fine, I’ll come up with something else.”

“I’m sure you will, and I’m certain it’ll be better.” Kevin tried to comfort you. “Your parents called me the other day,” he began and you rolled your eyes, biting back your knowing smile. “Hence why we’re having lunch,” he continued with a light chuckle. “They’re worried about you, Y/N.”

“Of course they did,” you chuckled. “Why else would a busy man like you schedule a lunch with me when you’ve got a Captain America movie to make?” You quizzed and he chuckled. “I’m perfectly fine, Kevin. I’ve just been too busy with work to call or fly home.”

“Or socialize in any way,” he added and you sighed because you’ve heard it all before. “Y/N, you’re a successful twenty-four year old screen wright in Hollywood. You are constantly being invited to red carpet events and after parties with actors and directors and producers who could be perfect for you. Just pull yourself away from your laptop, put on a dress and go meet a guy.”

“My parents seriously called you to tell me to get a boyfriend?”

“I was the only one in the neighborhood,” he shrugged then smiled when you chuckled. “I care about you, kid. I want to see you happy, and though I know your work makes you happy- you need more than work. You’re twenty-four but you won’t be forever, it’s time you start thinking about your future.” You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off, “personal life wise, not career wise.”

“Fine,” you chuckled. “If it’ll make all of you feel better, I’ll start looking for the love-” You were cut off when a oddly familiar male voice called out. You and Kevin looked up and you realized why you found the voice so familiar, it was Chris Evans; otherwise known as the actor who dawned the role of Captain America.

“It’s you,” Chris smiled at you- much to your confusion- as he strolled over with Robert Downey Jr.; he and Kevin looked about as confused as you because you’d never met Chris Evans before. “Who would’ve thought I’d run into you here.”

“You know him, Y/N?” Robert asked you with narrowed eyes.

“I know he’s Captain America but- I’ve never met him before,” you answered. “I’m sorry, have we met?” You asked Chris; he shook his head, chuckling. “But you know me?” You asked, the confusion increased in your voice.

“Yeah,” Chris nodded. “And I think this belongs to you.” He passed the coaster over to you and you face lit up, making Chris smile. “I didn’t fold it ‘cause you look like the kind of person who would find a crease annoying.” You looked up at him and chuckled. “I didn’t think I was going to run into you so soon though.”

“And I didn’t think I was ever going to see my coaster again, let alone have Captain America bring it to me,” you told him with a light laugh. “I was a little lost without this, it’s kind of my next project. So thank you,” you nodded gratefully at him.

“Save the thank you for your Oscar speech,” Chris responded and you were slightly taken aback by his vote of confidence considering he didn’t know anything about you. “I don’t know what you’re writing but- I have a feeling it’s going to be a winner.”

“Just like this pairing,” Kevin mumbled under his breath, smiling at you and Chris; Robert had the same knowing smile on his face as he glanced between the two of you. The two of you would’ve noticed if you weren’t so busy smiling at each other. “Why don’t you two join us for lunch?”
• • • • • • • •
“Who would’ve thought that one lunch would change our whole lives?” You asked Chris as he rested his hand on the swell of your belly, smiling. “And add another life to this world.” You rested your hand on top of his, both your wedding rings glistening in the sunlight.

“Me,” he said softly. “I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that you were going to change my entire life,” he told you and you felt your eyes well with tears. “I was going to hunt you down with that coaster, like Prince Charming hunted Cinderella down with the glass slipper. You were something special, Y/N. I didn’t have to know you to know that, I could feel it.”

“You know I’m meant to be the writer in the relationship, right?” You quipped and he laughed. “I love you,” you told him as you leaned in, your lips inches away from his. “More than I’ll ever love another being.”

“Remember that when our son comes along,” he whispered then kissed you.

Tags: @widowsfics @m-a-t-91 @xoxomioxoxo @imaginesofdreams @ateliefloresdaprimavera @katiew1973 @winter-tospring @shamvictoria11 @caitsymichelle13 @michellekeehlmello Tags are still opened, just inbox me and I’ll add you. Same goes if you no longer want to be tagged, inbox me and I’ll remove you.

If She Knew What She Wants.

Characters: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky likes you and you like Steve who is totally oblivious.  

Word Count: 1990 words

Prompt: Wanted by Hunter Hayes “You make me feel happy inside and out.”

A/N: I’ve been suffering a little bit of writers block recently but Bucky has been a dream to write for this one.  This is for @paigeinastory anniversary challenge and it was a pleasure to be part of this celebration.

Originally posted by immortalmurphy

He sat at the kitchen counter nursing his coffee and ignoring whatever Tony was ranting about.  He felt you enter the room before he saw you and he couldn’t help the sweet smile that graced his lips as he wished you good morning.  You had obviously been training with Romanov and as you slid onto the stool beside him and stole a slice of his toast he couldn’t help but think how beautiful you are.  It was a thought he had several times a day and each time he promised himself that one day he would tell you.  One day, but not today.  You had been the first to make him feel welcome at the compound, often diffusing the tension between him and Tony and he really didn’t know what he would do without you around.  There was just something about you that made him feel more like his old self, like you didn’t see The Winter Soldier whenever you looked at him, just Bucky. He had tried to test you plenty of times telling you about some of the atrocities he was personally responsible for, try to tell you he was a monster and each time you would just tilt your head squint at him as if studying his face before announcing with certainty that you definitely saw no signs of a monster in front of you, just a man, a man who was a damned good friend.  Your words simultaneously made his heart soar and sink.  You made him feel like being broken wasn’t a bad thing, that he actually made sense to you somehow and then you used the ‘friend’ word.

Keep reading

Avengers x Reader: Just a Cold

Originally posted by elcapitan-rogers

(Author’s Note: A little something for you if you’re feeling under the weather!I actually wrote this several months ago and had it posted on my deviantart account, but figured it would be a nice time to post it here. 

Also, gif is not mine!, credit to original owner!)

  “Ahah….ACHOO!”  You sneezed fiercely, fortunately grabbing a tissue just in time.  "Ugh.“  You sniffled miserably as you wiped your nose and tossed the crumpled-up tissue into the garbage can placed strategically beside the bed.  Yesterday, you had the sniffles, but you hadn’t imagined that it would turn out to be such a bad cold.  Looks like it would be a lonely, lazy day.  
   There was an abrupt knock at the door.  
   "Oh, ________!”  A certain billionaire superhero sang, his voice slightly muffled by the door.  
   And no, it wasn’t Bruce Wayne.
   "Ugh, what do you want, Tony?“ you complained, mentally face-palming.
   "I couldn’t help but notice that you missed  afternoon training with the team.  What’s up with that?”
   You sighed.  You had decided not to say anything about being sick, not wanting to burden your teammates.  They’ve got enough to deal with when it comes to battling villains and whatnot.  You didn’t want to ruin a nice day off for them.  Plus, Tony could be a jerk sometimes.  You figured he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to taunt you at a time like this.  Oh well.  There was no escaping it now.
   "I’m not feeling so great today.“  
   "Aw, poor ________,”  he teased.  "Staying in bed all day isn’t going to make your problems go away, you know.“
   "Actually, it probably will,” you retorted.  “A nice rest is exactly what I need.” 
   "Just come on out, and-“
   "That’s not such a good idea.”
   "If you won’t come out, I’m coming in.“  There was a pause before the door opened.  
   You grabbed a nearby shoe and launched it at him.  "The heck are you doing, Stark?”
   "Ow!  Sheesh, relax.“  Tony dusted himself off, giving you a look.  He took note of how you were buried in a mound of thick blankets and sheets, the trash can full of crumpled tissues, and the redness of your nose.  "You’re sick, aren’t you?”  He took a few big steps backwards, as if stepping out of range of contamination.
   "Yes, as a matter of fact,“ you replied, sniffling.  
   "Why didn’t you just say so?  Gosh, women are so complicated.”  He rolled his eyes and went over to the window, pulling back the curtains to let the sunshine in.  You shielded your eyes as you protested.  "Now now.  There’s no need to give me crap.  I’m helping you, after all.“
   "What?” You asked, surprised.  "No teasing or taunting?  You’re just going to help?“
   "There might be a little taunting, but…yeah.  Pretty much.”  He paused, stroking his beard.  "First thing’s first.  Let’s have the Doc take a look at you.“  He went over to the doorway and poked his head out before you could protest.  "BRUCE!  BRUUUUUUUCCCCCE!” he hollered obnoxiously.
   "What?  What?“  Bruce appeared at the doorway moments later, looking a little irritated.
   "Avengers Tower has been infiltrated by a horrible enemy…Germs,” Tony said dramatically.  Then, he shrugged.  "Basically, __________’s sick.  You should check it out.  It’s pretty bad.“
   "It’s just a cold,” you explained.  "I’m fine.“
   "I’ll take a look, just in case,” Bruce told you with a kind smile.  "Let me get my equipment.“  He left the room, and you let out a defeated sigh, lying back against the stack of pillows on your bed.  
   "Is there a problem?  I heard Stark causing a commotion in the hallway.”
   Steve’s voice made you want to disappear.  All this unnecessary attention…
   "Nope.  Tony’s just being….Tony,“ you sighed, hiding your face under a blanket.
   "Actually, Cap, _________ is sick,” Tony informed him.  "Bruce is going to see how bad it is.“
   "Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, ________.”  Steve came over and gave you a light nudge.  "Is that why you missed training today?“
   You nodded from your place under the blanket.  "Yeah.”
   Steve chuckled and pulled back the blanket to place his palm on your forehead.  His playful smile faded a little.  "You’ve got a bit of a fever.“
   "Here, let me take a look.”  Bruce came in with a leather bag full of equipment.  He pulled up a chair beside the bed and took a seat, fishing out a thermometer.  "Hm….You do have a fever.  It’s not too bad, but we’ll definitely need to keep an eye on things.  Would you mind sitting up for just a moment?“
   You did as he instructed, trying to ignore the concerned looks from both Steve and Tony.  Bruce checked your heartbeat with the stethoscope, and asked you to take a few deep breaths.  You couldn’t even exhale without it turning into a coughing fit.  
   "S-sorry,” you coughed.
   "Why are you sorry?“ he asked, giving you a pat on the shoulder.
   "I don’t know…I didn’t want you guys to be bothered.  I can just take some medicine or something, and I’ll be fine.  Why don’t you all go back to enjoying your day off?”
   "It’s no trouble at all.  Don’t worry about it,“ Bruce assured you.  
   "So, what’s the deal, doc?”  Tony interjected.
   "As you said, it’s a cold.  But it is a bad one,“ he replied.  He turned to you, taking off his glasses.  "I think that some time off your feet with some special care will help.”
   "Just some rest will be fine,“ you said with a shrug.
   "No, it will take a little more than that,” Bruce insisted.
   "__________, let us help you out,“ Steve said.  "You’re always there for each of us whenever we need it.  Let us return the favor, please?”
   The pleading look in his eyes made you crack almost immediately.
   "Alright, alright….But I don’t want to be pampered.“
   "Too bad,” Steve said, a mischievous look appearing on his face.  Before you could question him, he knelt down to scoop you up in his arms, blankets and all, and carried you out of the room.
   "Steve!  What is-“ you couldn’t hold back a giggle.  It was kind of fun!  "What are you doing?”
   "I’m moving you to the couch so you don’t have to sit in that stuffy room all by yourself.“
   "I could walk, you know.”  You giggled again.
   "Now where’s the fun in that?“  Steve carried you to the elevator with Tony and Bruce following.   
   "Sure,” Bruce shrugged.
   "We’ve got quite a group here,“ Tony noted aloud when the four of you were in the elevator on the way to the top floor of Avengers Tower where the gang usually hung out during free time. You could lounge around, watch movies, look out the windows at the city, play games, have snacks…  Stark did a great job of making it a nice place to spend time.
   Steve set you down on the couch and tucked you in.  "Can I get you anything? Tea, orange juice, apple juice…?”
   "Just some (favorite drink), please.  I bought some the other day.  It should be in the kitchen area.“
   Steve went over to fetch your drink while Bruce fluffed up a pillow for you and placed it behind your head.
   "So,” Tony clasped his hands together, sauntering over to stand in front of you.  "What’s on the agenda?  Reading?  Video games?  Some chick flicks, maybe?“
   "I don’t know,” you said with a shrug.  "What do you want to do?“
   "This is your day,” Tony replied.  "You decide.“
   "Oh, in that case…”  You paused to think.  "Some movies sound nice.“
   "Movies it is!”  Steve exclaimed, hopping up over the back of the couch to join you, handing you your (favorite drink).  
   "Aren’t you worried about catching a cold?“  you wondered aloud, accepting the drink with a grateful nod.
   "Nope.  I haven’t been sick in a long time, actually.”
   "Just another amazing thing to add to his list of why he’s better than everyone else,“ Tony said sarcastically.
   "That’s not what I’m saying,” Cap rolled his eyes.  "But anyways, what kind of movie are we going to watch?“
   "Whatever _________ wants,” Tony explained.
   A sly look crossed your features.  "Whatever I want?“
   ”Yes,“ Tony seemed a little suspicious.  His eyes flickered between you and Bruce, who seemed to be catching on to what you were trying to say.  The unspoken communication between his two Science Bros made Tony’s curiosity intensify.  "What?  What are we watching?”

The Permission Slip

Because @anghraine mentioned PTA AU, and her brain went one place and mine went another.

The Permission Slip

Jyn opened the door as quietly as possible and slid into the school library. Not that she really should have bothered with stealth. The big room echoed with chatter and laughter and suddenly, happy shrieking as something went pop!

She leaned her back against the wall, looking around. She vaguely remembered coming here on a long-ago Parent Night. At the time, the posters had been dusty and faded, the shelves looming, and the tables dirty. Not to mention a sour librarian who’d been quick to tell her that Lyra refused to stick to books at her grade level, and hadn’t taken it well when Jyn had snapped back that maybe the librarian shouldn’t be giving her kid boring-ass shit she didn’t want to read.

Now it looked bright and warm, the tables all pushed together at one end, sunlight streaming in through the windows. The new librarian had been making changes. Impressive considering he split his time between here and the high school.

The top half of the shelves were empty, all the books moved down. She wondered where the rest of them had gone. Still, there were enough books to make her itchy. She’d kicked the dust of school off her Doc Martens ten years ago, and while she’d gotten her GED, she still wasn’t a fan of scholastic environments in general.

Lyra, she reminded herself. She was here for Lyra. For Lyra, she’d walk over hot coals and swallow live scorpions and -

And take the afternoon off work to tell her kid’s school librarian a thing or two.

Keep reading

Crossfire - 11

Chapter 10
Yoongi x Reader
Gang AU
Chapter 11 / Words: 4595

Though the compound was more inviting than the bland suburban house you had been in previously, you felt less welcome and more stressed. You were invading a very private place that was almost sacred to them, and it put you on edge. You slept and ate less, and you were very aware of the close quarters everyone was in. There were always at least two of the boys home, and you’d be stuck around them unless you holed yourself up in Yoongi’s room, which was the surprisingly less desirable option. Everything about the room seemed artificial, despite the bed never being made and the desk littered with notes and papers with little to no meaning to you. You went there at night to attempt to sleep, but you often failed because your internal clock had been badly damaged. You tossed and turned uncomfortably in the bed until the sun rose, and you often took a short nap in the afternoon on the loveseat in a feeble attempt to compensate for your exhaustion.

Keep reading