I found the cult ending thing in the game files but it was all jubled and in the wrong order so i did my best to transcribe it (also i accidentally deleted half of this post the first time I wrote this and i am d y i n g)
Okay but just think of the dozens of Sterek fics that will come from that small scene of Stiles saying blindness is his biggest fear and Derek questioning him. I can just imagine one with Derek hearing Stiles heartbeat stutter and later confronting him about it and Stiles being all like 'of course it's not my biggest fear, don't you know me at all? My biggest fear is losing you again, watching you bleed out and not being able to do anything about it, not being able to save you.'
Derek’s eyes linger after Stiles looks away, his body shifting restless, fingers clenching and loosing in a twitch across the exam table. The lie hangs bright and obvious in the air –– less in the absent hitch of heartbeat or the burn of nerves that don’t taste quite like embarrassment or like fear. Derek could explain those things away in context if he tried, but he can’t explain the way the words fail to line up with everything he knows he knows about Stiles.
“Yeah… terrified of it. Always have been.”
He wonders if it’s as obvious to Scott as it is to him, but the rest of the group’s already moved on, not missing a beat, focus shifted back to the problem at hand while Stiles re-centers. His pulse sharpens again and his eyes lift back to Derek, flicking up and away before moving back to Scott again, sliding seamless back into the conversation.
Derek shakes off the strangeness, and follows him.
“Why did you lie in there?”
Stiles’ step falters on the question, and the resigned set of his shoulders tell Derek he’d been expecting this and hoping every bit as much to avoid it. Derek almost wants to take it back, tell Stiles is doesn’t matter, let whatever horror lives in the darkest place of Stiles’ heart lie there undisturbed… but this is too important.
He crosses his arms, keeping his tone and stance indifferent like that might make this conversation any easier.
“We need to know what’s coming, Stiles. When these things manifest, it’s not just going to be your fear anymore. It could threaten everyone.”
He’s not expecting the laugh that punches out of Stiles, harsh and thin and edged bitter enough to make Derek’s unaffected stance falter.
“Don’t you think I know that?”
Dark masks and fireflies float through Derek’s mind. A too-pale stranger with Stiles’ face and cold, ancient eyes. A huge lizard with paralyzing claws, and too-wet breaths as water threatened to pull them downward. A misshapen wolf with crimson eyes and spittle-laced breath, and an image of ghostly horsemen Derek had never seen, only heard of in Peter’s stories.
Derek could stab guesses at Stiles’ worst fears, could conjure up possibilities in Stiles’ quaking hands and nervous eyes as they darted out to the empty parking lot, looking for an escape before moving reluctant back to Derek. But he couldn’t know, and he needed to know, especially if it was something that could hurt the group.
…Especially if there was a way he could help Stiles prepare for it.
When it comes, he’s the one who’s unprepared.
“I can’t lose you again,” punches out rough and shaken, stunning Derek into stillness. Salt stings the air as tears well, and Stiles looks away on a wet breath, hand raking into his hair and tugging. “You were… dying and I walked away. I had to, there was nothing I could–– And then you were just gone afterward and I knew you were fine, I knew it was better that way but… fuck, Derek. It felt like you’d died some days.”
The tear tracks down and Derek feels his head shaking, arms falling from their faux-casual cross. The words are ringing through his mind, rattling around in a way that makes no sense and makes too much sense, echoes something too raw and honest inside him and he steps forward, “Stiles…” falling out soft, but Stiles is rocking a step back, shaking his head and swiping rough at the tear. Derek lets him retreat.
“My mom died in front of me.” This confession falls out soft, and Stiles’ shoulders shrink in against the sting of them. He looks small again, sixteen or years younger, and it takes an effort not to move in and shelter him from the sting of his own words. “And I just… I couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t save her. Do you know how that––” He cuts off, because he knows Derek knows. Derek understands that feeling better than anyone. It’s a bond Derek’s always wished they didn’t share.
Stiles shakes his head, blinking quick.
“Fuck, I can’t go through that again, ok? If these things are bringing our worst fears to life then I’m better off away from it, for everyone’s sake. What if it kills you because of me, because–– I can’t watch someone else I love die.”
The words hang. Stiles has gone strangely still suddenly. In the clinic, some young pup sets up howling.
“…You love?” Because Stiles had been talking about his mother, but he’d also been talking about Derek. About losing loved ones, and that…
Stiles’ breath hisses out, body tensing up defensive and challenging. His hands ball up, shoulders setting broad again, and it feels like every argument they’ve ever had when Stiles meets his eyes, daring him to doubt the revelations he’d just laid out.
Derek had learned a long time ago not to doubt Stiles.
“Don’t be an idiot,” he says, like it’s obvious. Like it’s some undeniable fact that Stiles loves him, fears losing him, that in all the nightmares of Stiles’ life, losing Derek could rest in anywhere near the same category as possession or dementia, or his mother’s death. But Stiles has always been afraid of losing people he loved, of not being able to save them… and Derek is one of those people.
Derek is the person Stiles couldn’t look at while thinking about loss.
He moves forward a step, and Stiles doesn’t retreat this time, amber eyes locked with an expression that’s caught somewhere between challenge and pleading.
It’s one of the most terrifying moments of Derek’s life as he lifts his hand to Stiles’ cheek, and the most natural thing in the world once it’s resting there.
“I’ve died before,” he reminds Stiles, softly. “That’s not about to beat me. I’ll always come back… for you.”
“For me?” Stiles sounds breathless, doubt and hope warring as Derek’s thumb brushes over his tear-streaked cheek.
Derek tilts his head, warmth touching his eyes.
“Don’t be an idiot.”
When Stiles grins and presses their lips together, Derek forgets what it’s like to be afraid.
Summary: Loving Kim Taehyung was just so cruel, since he only saw you as his childhood friend. But after years of wanting him to return your affection, you finally saw the look of love shine on his eyes - but it wasn’t meant for you. No, it was meant for her… Pairing: Taehyung x Reader Genre: Smut, Angst, bestfriend!au, university!au Word Count: 4.5k A/N: Original request here .
Loving Kim Taehyung was like treasuring a forbidden artifact
– you could appreciate it and love it from afar, but you could never touch it,
never have it – just stand still and admire from a distance. Just like the
artifact, he was untouchable and you could never have him the way you always
wished for. Why? Well that was because he was your best friend since you were
toddlers, but that was it.
You two were inseparable. Always playing and working
together, making your classmates assume that you two liked each other. Of
course, every time that accusation was made, you’d both deny it while saying
how gross it was – but even then you knew you were lying.
At the mere age of 14, you realized that you didn’t just
have a silly little crush on him anymore, no, you had fallen deeply in love
with him. But who didn’t? His affectious boxy smile and playful bright attitude
attracted many people towards him over the years, much to your dismay. But
Taehyung always brushed it aside, and kept his attention solely on you. That
is, once you two entered high school, then it all changed for the worse.
okay, can we talk about keith’s vlog tho? because all i see right now is that “we already have too much keith” and it makes me mad so i need to rant. here we go.
first of all, coran was so happy that he set up this system so he and the team could record vlogs and maybe talk about fun things and stuff like that. but keith lived on a desert for so long he didn’t even know what “fun” is at this point and he’s not the kind of person that would talk simply to fill the silence. so of course when you tell him to sit in front of the camera and talk, he will finally just say whatever is on his mind. and he starts to talk about being half-galra?
like, it’s on his mind all the time; not only that he’s not 100% human but also that because of who he is allura hated him and other altea people would probably feel the same. most of the time keith acts like he doesn’t care about anyone but maybe shiro, but the truth is he cares so much? about what allura thinks, about what hunk thinks. he just bottles it up like everything else.
and then the “vol- tron” scene with lance. keith still thinks about that! he’s frustrated because a stupid chant shouldn’t be this complicated but keith thinks it’s important to lance. he doesn’t understand even tho he wants to! i don’t know, i just felt like pointing this out because of Reasons.
and then probably the most important part. where keith talks about how his mom left him and that’s the reason he has trust issues. like, holy shit, of course you’d have trust issues and if i’ll ever see one more person getting mad at keith for being angry about shiro’s disappearance, i’m throwing hands. both his parents apparently didn’t give a damn about him and shiro was the only person he had, he was and is his only family so of course keith was angry. and in this last part of his vlog we saw how vulnerable he really is, he opened up so much i was surprised because keith is usually a very reserved person when it comes to his feelings, so i think that we saw more character development in those three minutes than in the whole show and it’s important!
so if you think that it was a waste of time and they’re “shoving keith down your throat” (i saw someone saying that here on tumblr) then i hope you’ll choke on him, because honestly? keith is one of the more interesting characters in the show both because of his backstory and behavior/development.
so do i think that the other characters deserve more screentime too? of course! matt fucking holt is my fave character so you don’t get to talk to me about too little screentime. but do i think that they should stop giving us more keith content and that it’s okay to insult keith because of the amount of time he’s getting? well, let me tell you that this is bullshit.
thank you guys so much for all the love on this fic. Please read my notes on the bottom as they are important! ty!
summary: a soulmate au where everyone has a tattoo exactly like their soulmate
pairing: eddie and richie
Eddie woke up even more exhausted than he was when he fell asleep. He let a breath out of his mouth and took in a long one through his nose. He kept his eyes shut. He wasn’t ready to face the world yet.
Everything he loved was gone, he suddenly realized. This thought jolted him awake, causing him to sit straight up in a panic. It hadn’t occurred to him that he lost everything yesterday. All of his friends were bound to know. They all hung out together. They were the Loser’s Club and Eddie had ruined that. They could never all hang out anymore as Eddie couldn’t bear to be in the same room as Richie, let alone even think about him. He started to really panic, then.
His breathing was rapid and shallow and his hands were shaking violently. Eddie got up, stumbling, trying to find his damned inhaler. It wasn’t in his pocket, nor his backpack, or on his desk. He couldn’t breathe. At this point, he didn’t know if it was even an asthma attack anymore, or if it was one in the first place. It was so much worse. His head was spinning and he couldn’t see anymore. It was in his jacket, he remembered suddenly.
Eddie collapsed on the ground, catching himself with his hands as he tried to steady his breathing, but nothing was working. His heart was racing and he couldn’t stop shaking. Eddie was sobbing uncontrollably, his vision blurred from the tears. He didn’t know what was happening. His lungs felt constricted and he couldn’t get any air in. He was hyperventilating, trying to breathe but couldn’t. He tried to move towards his jacket that was hanging on the back of his chair. He was shaking so badly that he could barely move. His hand grasped the chair, pulling it and knocking it over. The light blue inhaler fell out of the pocket of his coat, landing a couple inches away from him. He grabbed it, instantly feeling as if he could breathe again when he took his first two puffs of medicine.
An hour passed before Eddie could stand again. HIs legs were shaky but he managed to get to his bathroom. He found it odd that his mother hadn’t come to get him yet until he realized that it was four in the morning. Eddie knew he couldn’t go to school, but he couldn’t stay home ‘sick’ as his mother would take him to the hospital. He washed his face with some water and laid back down and attempted to fall asleep.
His mother woke him up at 7 am and tried to get him to take his pills as she did every morning. He walked out of the house and rode his bike to park. Eddie read there all day. He needed to take a breather and reading was his escape. The cool breeze against his skin calmed him even more as he closed his eyes and rested his head against the tree he was sitting up against. It was odd to feel so peaceful. At three o'clock, he headed home as if he had gone to school.
“Eddie bear, how was school?” She asked from her chair in the living room.
“Fine.” He responded quietly, heading upstairs and into his room.
Eddie felt bad about lying, not going to school, but he knew he couldn’t face Richie, Bill, or anyone for that matter. He checked his cut from the previous day, and it was still healing properly. That was one less thing for him to worry about. Eddie laid back on his bed, sighing. Could his life get any worse?
“W-W-What did you d-do?” Bill demanded, slamming his Chemistry book down on the loser’s lunch table. He was beyond pissed.
Richie looked up at Bill through his coke bottle lenses. Stan was pissed too, standing behind him with crossed arms and narrowed eyes. “I didn’t do anything!” He defended, pushing his glasses further up on his nose. “I-”
“Where is Eddie?” Stan interjected, sliding into the seat across from Richie. “He isn’t here today and he was supposed to tell you how he felt yesterday. What the hell did you do to him, Richie?”
Richie scoffed. “So that’s why he was avoiding me.”
Bill looked at him confused. “W-What do you mean av-av-avoiding you?”
Richie rolled his eyes. “You know when someone doesn’t talk to you and walks different routes in the hallways so they don’t see you. Gee, Bill, I thought you were smart.” He replied sarcastically, sticking his plastic fork into eerily yellow mashed potatoes.
Stan leaned forward on his elbows. “So, if he avoided you, why isn’t he here?”
Richie let out an exasperated sigh, leaning backward in his chair. “He told me in the gym locker room, alright?”
Bill sat down next to Stan, looking at Richie to egg him on.
Richie sighed again. “And I was too shocked to do anything and he ran out crying.”
“Hey! I tried to go to his house and apologize and he slammed the window shut. He wouldn’t listen to me.” Richie grumbled. “I really tried! But I have a plan.”
Stan and Bill exchanged glances. Bill nodded a little and Stan sighed. “What’s your plan?”
Richie sat up straight. “You two need to convince him to come over. Say it’s everyone but me.”
Bill frowned. “H-He’s not gonna b-b-believe us, Rich.”
“Make him believe you! I need to talk to him. I need to explain.” Richie protested, running a hand through his hair.
Bill nodded. “I’ll t-try.”
Richie looked at Stan, who was staring down at the table. “Stan?”
“I’m not gonna help you if all you’re gonna do is break his heart. He doesn’t deserve that, Richie.” He deadpanned.
Richie was offended and a look of hurt flashed across his face before he composed himself. “I am not going to hurt Eddie!”
“Sure, telling him you only wanna be his friend isn’t gonna hurt him.”
“This is the one time I’m not being a sarcastic dipshit, Stanley! Are you listening? I said I’m not going to hurt him. I would never hurt him. I love him!” Richie slammed his fist on the table, causing a few kids to look over at them. “Did you hear that?”
“At least they didn’t cut off your ears like they cut off your dick.” Richie spat, getting up and walking away. The bell rang moments later. Bill grabbed his bookbag and stood up, gently nudging Stan to do the same. Richie was standing near his locker, attempting to open it but getting the combination wrong.
“What, Stanley? What the hell do you want?” Richie practically growled, turning and glaring at Stan. If looks could kill, he would be dead ten times over.
Richie’s hard stare softened a little. “Thanks. I’m sorry I got mad but you gotta admit that line was good.” A small smile crept onto his face, and even Stan chuckled a bit.
Bill was assigned the job to get Eddie over, and Stan was to get everyone else in on the plan. He walked up to Eddie’s door and knocked. There was shuffling and a shout of “I got it” from Eddie. He opened the door and saw Bill, his face paled a little.
“H-Hi,” Bill said quietly. “C-Could we talk?”
Eddie glanced behind him for a moment to see if his mom had fallen back asleep or not before nodding and stepping outside, shutting the door behind him. “What do you wanna talk about because I’m not gonna talk about him.” He put emphasis on the word him. He sounded angry, disgusted, even. He laced his fingers together, still a bit shaky from his panic attack this morning.
“N-No. The group w-wants you to come over. Minus R-R-Richie.”
“Oh, no. I am not falling for that. He’s gonna be there when I get there and I don’t want to talk to him.”
Bill shook his head. “Please? I-I-It’s movie night. You can p-pick.”
Eddie glared at the ground, trying to work the request over in his head. He finally let out a long sigh and nodded. “Fine.”
They rode their bikes to Bill’s house in silence, neither of them knowing what to say, so they said nothing. Eddie set his bike up against the house as he always did, following Bill inside. Georgie greeted the both of them with a hello and a smile.
“H-Head to the living room, I-I-I’ll get the snacks,” Bill said, heading to the kitchen. Eddie nodded, walking towards the living room. He walked in, glancing around the room at the various decorations on the wall. Paintings and pictures of their family were scattered around the room. It felt homey.
Eddie was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard the door shut. He turned his head to look, only to find Richie standing there. His breath hitched in his throat and he knew he had paled. It wasn’t even five seconds before he started to get angry. He knew this was a set-up.
“I fucking knew it,” Eddie grumbled.
“Eddie-” Richie started, but Eddie had had enough.
“No, Richie. I don’t want to hear it. I’m really not in the mood to listen to you tell me you don’t feel the same way and that you hope we can be friends. Because we can’t be friends, Richie! I don’t want to be your friend. I can’t be your damn friend.”
Richie Tozier was silenced by Eddie for the second time that week. It was a new record. He composed himself before stepping forward. “If you let me show you something, I promise I will leave you alone.”
Eddie was shocked that Richie was being serious. He was never serious in all the time he’s known the guy. He was always cracking inappropriate jokes at the wrong time. Despite all of his instinct to say no, Eddie nodded.
Richie let out a sigh of relief before spitting onto his hand.
“That is disgusting! What the hell are you-” Eddie cut himself off as he watched Richie take his spit and use it to smudge his soulmate tattoo off his skin. It wasn’t real. This whole time, Eddie thought that Richie had a soulmate. It was fake.
Richie watched Eddie for a moment before deciding to explain himself. “My mom used to tell me I would be made fun of for not having a soulmate. That I wouldn’t fit in. So, one night I decided to draw one on every morning so I would fit in. It sounds shitty and kind of is but- Eds are you listening?”
Eddie walked forward and grabbed Richie’s hand. He was holding back the urge to cringe, as Richie’s saliva was now on his hand. Richie didn’t understand what Eddie was doing. He let him move his finger until it was placed right next to the corresponding one on Eddie’s hand. Under Richie’s tattoo that he drew on, was a small, circular and blotchy birthmark. It was identical to Eddie’s.
“What the fuck,” Eddie announced. A smile spread across Richie’s face while Eddie started to ramble. “What does this mean? Are these soulmate tattoos? They look like birthmarks! Why the hell would this be a soul-”
Richie grabbed his face in his hands, leaning in and pressing his chapped lips onto Eddie’s soft ones. Eddie was stiff for a moment before he melted into the kiss and started to do the same that Richie was. Eddie was unsure where to put his hands or what to even do. Before he could react, Richie pulled away, slowly opening his eyes to find Eddie completely red.
“I love you too, Eds.”
Eddie had a content smile on his face. “Don’t call me that, Trashmouth.”
“Ah, Trashmouth, what a nickname. You really know how to charm the boys.” Richie sassed, throwing his arm over Eddie’s shoulder. “Shall we tell the rest of the losers that Bill and Stan have competition?”
Eddie and Richie showed the rest of the group their tattoos. Stan had this smug look of “I told you so” written across his face and so did Bill. They ended up watching a rom-com, much to Eddie’s dismay. Richie kept his arm around the smaller boy the whole night, pressing chaste kisses to his forehead every once and awhile.
Richie and Eddie rode back to their houses together that night. They arrived at Eddie’s house first, both of them silent.
“Gee, you could cut this sexual tension with a knife.” Richie joked, leaning forward on the handlebars of his bike.
Eddie rolled his eyes, using his kickstand to stand his bike up next to his porch as he always did. Richie hopped off his bike, letting it lay on the ground. He walked up to Eddie, pinching his cheek. “So, Eddie Spaghetti, where do you wanna go on our first date of being fuckbuddies?”
“You ruined it.” Eddie sighed, slapping his hand away.
“I didn’t ruin anything!” Richie retorted, smiling. “I made it better.”
“Okay, Tozier,” Eddie said, leaning forward and kissing Richie briefly.
Richie had a smile plastered on his face. “Goodnight, Eds.”
“Goodnight, Trashmouth,” Eddie said before he shut the door. He quietly snuck up the stairs. His mom was still asleep in her chair. He fell back on his bed, a content smile on his face.
Eddie Kaspbrak was happy.
SO HELLO HERE ARE A FEW NOTES PLS READ TYSM
this ending is ending a. i wrote two endings because i couldnt decide which i liked better
so ending b will be posted after part four as a bonus lil chapter thingy
you can decide whichever you prefer to be canon as i love them both
also im really self concious about this part so please give me your honest feedback ilysm
let me know if you want an epilouge! i would be down to write it
As a teenager you’d been best friends with Sam Winchester, particularly since your mother and his father hunted together whenever they felt they needed backup. But then you’d moved country, and all interactions with the Winchesters were of the non-physical kind. So when they call on you for backup, you jump at the chance to see your best friend again, not to mention see his big brother, on who you’d had a mild crush on. The hunt goes well, the rest of the evening, however, doesn’t exactly go your way.
Pairing: Alpha!DeanxOmega!Reader Words: 3963 Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics. Smut. AN: This was an Anon Request! I’m quite pleased with this one, and kinda tempted to write a sequel… let me know what you think of that idea!!! Constructive Criticism Welcome!!!
Your phone started ringing for the third time in a
row, and you couldn’t suppress your exasperated groan as you tugged a
sweatshirt over your wet hair and damp skin. Snatching it up off the scuff-marked
plastic table you chanced a quick glance at the caller ID before answering.
“You better have a damn good reason for disturbing
my day off, Winchester,” you teased, tucking the mobile between your shoulder
and ear so you could return to the damp towel you’d tossed onto the bed and set
about drying your hair more thoroughly. The bastard knew you were taking
a day to pamper yourself, yet still decided to drive you mad with your own
ringtone. How very rude of him.
On the end of the line, Sam just chuckled, and you
could just picture him shaking his head slightly in amusement.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he laughed, but you could
detect genuine regret in his voice. “It’s just that I know you’re nearby, and
me and Dean could use an extra pair of hands on this one. Dean will hate me
when he finds out I rang… he doesn’t like thinking there are more Vamps than we
can handle,” he said. A faint scraping sound in the background suggested that
he’d just taken a seat, too.
As you once again dropped the towel onto your bed
in favour of your hairbrush, you let out an amused titter. “Certainly sounds
like Dean,” you mused, “sounds like he’s well on his way to becoming one of
those stereotypical stubborn Alphas you get on TV.”
Once again, you heard the distinctive rumble of Sam
laughing. That was when a thought hit you, and your face lit up in a smile so
broad that your cheeks actually hurt.
“Hold up… does-does that mean I actually get to see
you guys? And I mean see you, not just skype or a screen-shared movie?”
A/N: You guys!!!! I can’t believe you are all so nice honestly!!!! I hit 500 followers today so as a thank you, here is pt. 3 a day earlier than expected!! Forgive me if there are any mistakes, as I stayed up late to finish it (I have to be up in six hours for work oh lord) and I really hope you guys like it. There most definitely will be a pt. 4, and possibly pt. 5, as this scene became longer than expected, and I decided to split it between two chapters. Again, thank you so much, guys. All my love.
As the end of August neared, you began to fear the
return of school. Not because you hated
it—in fact, you were fond of school. You
liked learning, you liked seeing your friends from certain classes, and you
even missed some of your teachers.
However, with the return of your school came the return of Spider-Man’s
school. He had explained to you how
difficult it was to balance the responsibilities of his civilian life with the
responsibilities of being a superhero.
Between those tightropes of time management, you doubted there would be
any hours allotted to visiting you.
You knew that you had no right to be sad about your
predicament. The right thing to do would
be to not think selfishly, and just be happy with the time you were given with
someone who doesn’t normally share their world.
But, no matter how many times you had a talk with yourself, you still
couldn’t bring yourself out of your melancholy thoughts.
Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.
Eddie continued to tend Richie’s wounds throughout the night, with the windows steaming up from the heat inside the room in contrast to the freezing air outside. After Richie’s warming words, Eddie barely formed words for an hour or so and solely focused upon fixing Richie up despite Richie’s protests to his cuts stinging and how he was being covered in superman bandages, but Eddie just rolled his eyes and chose to ignore the boy and his ways.
Richie had his head against the wall as he sat on the perfectly white carpet beneath him, he stared directly at his fingertips with a warm feeling in his stomach.
“So, you’re staying here, right?” Eddie asked, his legs folded upon his neat bed after cleaning away the first aid kit.
Richie drifted his gaze to Eddie, “I don’t have too, I just had no where to go.”
“You can stay!” Eddie quickly spoke, his words overflowing, “It’s just that I was wondering and, well, my Mom would flip shit if she saw you- so.. so I’ll have to hide you. We also only have my Dad’s old clothes, my clothes won’t fit.”
Richie managed to form a lop sided grin, listening to each melodic sound that came from Eddie Kaspbrak. Everything about the boy was phenomenal, overall outstanding. From his neat hair, to his messy mindset. From his soft brown eyes, to the crevice of his lips. Richie was in awe of what standards this boy had to even look in Richie Tozier’s way, never mind welcome him with open arms into his living space.
After spending months piloting Blue. Lance had become used to the slight chill that would fill her cockpit from time to time.
He had asked Coran about it once and he had explained that the Lions sometimes gain comfort by surrounding themselves in their element.
Coran then went into a long story about how Green would occasionally sprout flowers in her cockpit.
So after Red claimed Lance as her paladin and he found her cockpit uncomfortably hot one day while on his way to a mission, Lance didn’t think anything of it.
“Ok team let’s go over the plan one last time” Shiro said over the coms.
“Hunk, Pidge and Allura will be checking their assigned planets for possible alliances. While Keith and Lance collect minerals.”
“Relax Shiro you sound like a worried soccer mom sending her kids to their first day of school,” Lance laughed as he tugged at his collar. He understood that Red liked to heat up and all, but man he was starting to feel dizzy.
“More like a worried space dad” Hunk sniggered.
“Or space grandpa when you think about his hair.” Pidge added.
“Ok that’s enough.” Shiro cut in a note of irritation to his voice before he sighed.
“I mean it be careful, the planet you two are going to has heavy storm clouds meaning if you get in trouble we can’t get to you.”
“We will Shiro.” Keith said as the planet came into view.
Getting through the clouds was easier said then done.
It was bumpy and jerky all the way down.
By time they reached the ground Lance felt sick from all the movement and couldn’t help but pity Hunk for having to put up with motion sickness at the Garrison.
He stood up and took exactly two steps before his knees buckled beneath him.
“Jeez Red… guess the beats really getting to me.” Lance mumbled as he steadied himself against the wall and slowly made his way out into what he hoped was the cool air.
However he was out of luck.
The planet was like a desert. A flat plains of dark grey sand.
Lance would of joked it was like they were on the moon, if he wasn’t sweating to death in his suite.
“What took you so long?” Keith asked standing by Black with his helmet on his hip looking around impatiently.
Lance shrugged “aww what’s wrong? Worried about me?”
Keith rolled his eyes. “Let’s just get on with it.”
With that he was leading the way across the uneven ground like they weren’t walking through an oven.
After about an hour Lance was getting worried.
Keith wasn’t sweating.
Hell he didn’t even look to be hot.
He knew he had lived in a shack in the desert for like a year and all but still…
Lance had grown up in a hot country and his head was pounding behind his eyes with every step.
Not sweating could only mean one thing.
“H-hey Keith maybe you should sit down for a moment? Take a little break?”
Keith didn’t even look over his shoulder “no way, Lotor is still out there. We can’t waist time just sitting around because your sick of walking.”
Lance groaned, that’s what he gets for trying to be nice. “Fine but have something to drink atleast.”
This time Keith didn’t argue and instead took his flask from his belt and took a long drink.
Lance found himself staring at the water glistening on Keith’s lips.
He hadn’t realised his throats was painfully dry until that moment.
Lance fumbled with his belt trying to get his flask free.
However his hands felt heavy and like they weren’t quiet listening to his brain.
He dropped the metal flask to the ground and as he leaned down to pick it up the world suddenly seemed to tilt upwards.
The next thing Lance realises is that he’s lying on the ground and Keith is running towards him with a terrified expression on his face.
Louis is the only omega to ever make it in the cut-throat world of competitive motorcycle racing—that is, he would be if anyone actually knew about his identity. Now, his sights are set towards competing in—and winning—the European Grand Prix, the biggest and most difficult race of the entire year, so he can disappear underground for good. He’s close enough, too, until an alpha sports journalist is assigned to follow Louis’s every move as he prepares for the event of his career. Or, an AU where motorcycle racing is the biggest sport in a heavily divided world, Louis is trying to take control of his own destiny, and Harry is in for more than he bargained for.
“I don’t even know who he is, Niall! I just want to know his name or some - ”
“So why do you keep fucking blushing while talking about him!”
“You know what, fuck off! I’m gonna find him myself!”
or, The morning after his party Harry wakes up naked on his bed, and there is a Polaroid photo of a stranger right beside him. Harry wants to know who is this tiny little boy that has soft fringe and a smile from heaven. He has endless hope.
The study was to see if two strangers could live together for a month and fall in love.
“We are a new organization working to prove that love can do extraordinary things.” “You will do everything together & you are not allowed to leave the resort for the whole month.” “We want to prove that opposites attract.” Louis is allergic to peaches, Harry smells like peaches. Louis just came for the money.
It’s June 2013, and the legalization of gay marriage is the most discussed political issue in the country. As a member of parliament Louis Tomlinson has decided to do everything under his power to keep marriage between a man and a woman. Little does he know a boy with green eyes and pink lips from his past is on a mission to change his mind.
Leaflet for Over Again Inc. “In relationships, there are three types of people: those who are happy, those who are unhappy but accept it and deal, those who are unhappy and in denial.Handling this last category is our job: we are professional couple breakers.To reach our goal, we use all means necessary.”
Or the Arnacoeur AU in which Harry is scheduled to be married to Liam in 10 days and Harry’s mother hires Louis and his team to break them up.
Louis was staring at him, expecting a response, and Harry was supposed to be the one coming up with that response, and he was so not prepared, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Where were you? You weren’t on the bus for a few days.” Louis raised an eyebrow. “What?” “Uh… Sorry, I just- Um, sort of noticed that maybe you weren’t on the bus since last week. Not that I watch for when you’re on the bus or anything. That would be weird. Obviously, you have your own schedule, and I have mine. I just saw that you weren’t here, so I wondered what you were doing, or if something bad happened, like you got kidnapped or something. God, that sounded creepy. I promise I’m not threatening your life or something. Jesus, just stop me. If you have pepper spray, I would totally understand if you got me in the eyes right now.” Louis had his lips pressed together at this point, holding back a laugh. Harry really didn’t blame him for that.
Or, the one where Harry just really wants to talk to Louis. And when he finally does, everything he says just comes out wrong.
Harry’s one of Hollywood’s biggest actors, has made a name for himself in prestigious films and lives the life of a superstar. There’s just one thing missing to make it picture-perfect, but the one Harry’s in love with is completely out of reach for him. Enter Louis, one of Hollywood’s biggest actors himself, who just came out of the closet and taps new genres in the industry. When Louis sacks the role Harry auditioned for in Scorsese’s next big film, their irrational feud starts. Who could have guessed it would get even worse when for promo season, their teams decide to present them as a couple for publicity?
In short, Harry’s in love with someone and doesn’t care about dating anyone else, Louis never felt home in L.A., Liam writes love songs for someone he shouldn’t write love songs to, and Niall makes everything better with good food.
“I hate frats,” Louis repeats for what feels like the millionth time.“Yes, I’ve heard, once or twice or every day for the past three years,” Liam says. His careful tone reminds Louis of how his mom always sounds when one of his siblings is on the brink of a tantrum.Louis glances speculatively at Liam’s frat brothers, who are still huddled together and chatting, with the exception of the one who’s looking in Louis’ direction. Maybe Louis shouldn’t rule out a tantrum. While making a scene wouldn’t actually free him from fraternity nonsense in the future, it would at least be entertaining.
AU where Louis hates fraternities and would never be into a frat boy. And one of these things is definitely not a lie.
Louis doesn’t get out too much due to his shyness. The only two friends he has he met online and they both live miles and miles away. Then along comes a cute bartender that completely flips Louis’ life upside down.
Louis Tomlinson has just landed his dream job, coaching soccer at Augustus University. When he moves into a new house near campus, he meets his very fit new neighbor, English professor Harry Styles. Although their first meeting leads to an instant mutual dislike, the more Harry gets to know Louis, the more he likes what he sees.
Or the one where Harry’s African grey parrot spills his dirty secrets to his very hot neighbor.
Aspiring writer and all-around office gopher Harry Styles is desperately trying to establish himself as a hard-hitting journalist at the famous men’s magazine M™. When his editor-in-chief asks for a last minute volunteer, Harry jumps at the chance to write his first real assignment.Suddenly, Harry is tasked with writing a 10-day, exclusive, personal feature on roguishly handsome rising star, Football darling, and pain-in-the-arse diva Louis Tomlinson’s coming out. Harry just wants to write his story. Louis isn’t going to make it easy. Oh bloody buggering fuck.
“I hope our paths will ‘croissant’ again.” There’s a little smiley face drawn next to the words, and it’s ridiculous, Louis knows, but he can’t help the swell of butterflies that he feels as he reads over the words once more. An odd fellow indeed, he thinks.A moment later he shakes his head and collects himself, because he really does need to get home; he’s sure that Harry is probably watching him from behind the counter, all sweet, smug smiles and pink cheeks. And if he’s being honest, he’s not entirely sure he won’t toss his groceries into the trash and walk straight back into the bakery if he doesn’t leave now, so… he really does need to get going. Before he goes on his way, though, he plucks the note from the top of the container and carefully tucks it inside of his wallet to protect it from the rain.That’s how it begins.
Harry hums, staring at his hands in his lap, and Louis can still feel their smoothness, how solid they were in between his own. “Do you think it’s the same for us? Are we here only because of the likeliness of our jobs? Of our lives?” “We’re here because we have inventive managers,” Louis says, giving Harry’s leg a little nudge with his knee, but all that’s going around in his head is, I think I’d be in the same spot in every possible universe.
Or, when actor Louis Tomlinson used to daydream about dating Harry Styles, this is not what he had in mind.
They walk slow, unhurried, and they talk about everything, the earth and the glaciers and themselves, little bits and pieces. Harry finds himself falling open, caving in like the crevices that run like cold veins from the icy lakes. It feels strange to talk this way. He feels like he should be having this conversation hidden under his covers, whispering in the dark. It feels like the kind of talk that means too much, that means trust and revealing the small things that make up the bigger ones, except they’re both barely blinking an eye.
Or Harry is a WWF journalist with big dreams and Louis is a glaciologist that flies helicopters for fun. Greenland is an odd place to spend Christmas, but just maybe, the perfect place to fall headfirst into love.
“Somewhere between chaos and control — these are the wonderlands.” Harry’s daughter, Andy, is signed to Louis’ girl band. Her path to success is marked by competition, chaos, and for Harry, a love affair.
Request: Can u write about Peter and reader being friends and she moves away around middle school and come back junior year and she glowed up alOT and Peter is too scared to talk to her thinking she changed but she’s still in love w him.
Warnings: angst? fluff
A/N: It feels good to be back writings!! This is my first peter imagine. Hope you guys enjoy it xx
For as long as anyone could remember, Y/N, Peter and Ned have been the three musketeers. The best of friends who always caused mischief everywhere they go. Their friendship dates all the way back to first grade when six year old Y/N dissed Ned’s and Peter’s favorite movie, Star Wars, claiming that it was stupid and that Star Trek was way cooler than Star Wars. This caused an argument between the three. Ned and Peter telling Y/N why Star Wars is superior to Star Trek. Which led them to Peter’s apartment where they watched both Star Wars and Star Trek. The rest was history.
kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings—
smut, dom! Jin, dare I say fluff…? followed by an ‘oh shit’ moment words—
you’ve been lusting after your
brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party,
flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was
months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual
tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse…
Modern!AU You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.
Warnings: Hate to Love, Fake Dating, Snarky Remarks, Language
A/N: Okay, just a warning, there will be a lot of OCs in this series (mostly Bucky’s sisters and parents) Hope you like the first chapter :)
You loved Natasha’s apartment. It was spacious and bright
and she had a great view of the city. There was just one teeny-tiny itsy-bitsy
problem… you hated her neighbour.
James ‘Bucky’ Barnes.
Natasha introduced you to Bucky a little over a year ago. Her
fiancé, Clint, adored him and Bucky always stopped by their apartment. The boys
would stay in the living room and watch TV while you and Natasha gossiped and
drank wine in the kitchen.
Summary: In which Eddie can’t help but feel jealousy creep against his thoughts.
Prompt 97: “Are you jealous?”
Prompt: 26: “Open your fucking eyes, it’s so obvious that I’m in love with you!”
A/N: Thankyou for this request @wrongsmakethewordscometolife! If you wanna ask me for prompts ask awayHERE. If you want to ask an ordinary request askHERE. THIS IS HORRIBLY RUSHED IM SORRY BUT I HAVE SO MANY REQUESTS AND I WANT TO POST AS MANY AS POSSIBLE
Eddie sighed in frustration with tired legs, crawling back up from out of the water with the rest of the losers club. He fixed his white briefs and found himself standing up despite his legs practically wobbling from kicking them that much under water; this was because Eddie was in fact too short to stand up properly under the water.
The others sat down, stretching their limbs and talking quietly amongst themselves whilst Beverly set up the boombox and somehow managing to get music echoing from the speakers.
Eddie zoned out, watching as the water swayed lightly in the lake and a grin took place on his lips. He didn’t need his inhaler today, he was fine swimming. Despite countless times of his Mom telling him to always be extra careful in deep water because of how weak he is, he was strong enough to keep his head above water and that’s all that mattered to him.
Eddie turned back around, going to engage in a conversation with one of the others until he noticed it.
Most, if not all of the boys were staring.
Eddie followed their gaze, his jaw slacked which revealed his open mouth as he noticed that all of them were staring at a sun bathing Beverly, relaxed and in her underwear.
Sure, Beverly was pretty. Very, pretty. But what made her so enticing for all of the boys to stare at her in an alluring way? She didn’t have the best reputation with boys to begin with, which surprised Eddie as he would’ve thought some of them would’ve moved away from the thoughts that were currently going through their minds right now.
Eddie couldn’t help but feel out of place, especially because the only reason he was staring was because he was trying to find out what made he so special? Was it because she was a girl? Was it because she was a girl in her undergarments? Possibly so.
Eddie’s eyes then shift to his friends, eyeing the way they were all in a trance. As Eddie wandered his gaze over to Richie he couldn’t help but feel his heart strings twist and turn and he helplessly allowed a sigh to release from his nostrils. Anger filled his thoughts.
What was so special about Beverly? If she was wearing more clothes then he wouldn’t be staring at her like that, surely. She was a stupid girl. Does Richie like stupid girls? Does he like girls in general?
Just as he stares back at Beverly with distaste roaming his tastebuds, Beverly’s head turns and glances at the boys through her fashionable shades.
All of the boys, including Eddie, look elsewhere and pretend to engage in conversation to disguise their actions. Eddie quickly squirms his steps across the path to where Stanley was sat and switches the song to something else to cover up his own acts.
Beverly merely shrugs, before looking elsewhere.
It was later on that day when the losers were all packing up to go home; Eddie and Richie left earlier than the rest as they both lived on the same road a few houses away from one another.
It was silent, with Eddie still having bad thoughts about Beverly due to an unknown emotion taking over him, almost alike to selfishness. Richie on the other hand was chewing upon gum obnoxiously loud, his mouth open when doing so. He followed up his actions by blowing a large pink bubble, before sucking it back into his mouth. He repeated this a few times until the silence was practically killing him.
“You’re awfully quiet, Eds.”
“Don’t call me fucking Eds.” Eddie grumbled, tightening his fanny pack around his hips to prevent it from slipping down his legs.
Richie was shocked at Eddie’s sudden tone, not to mention that he had been quiet for the majority of the day up until this point. “Damn, no need to be a bitch about it.” Richie mumbled, pushing his glasses up with his middle finger towards Eddie in hope he’d see it as a joke and lighten up.
Eddie simply rolled his eyes and walked faster. “You’re not funny and I’m not laughing.”
Richie frowned, walking Eddie closer and closer to his house. He was growing impatient with the boys temper growing, but he was determined to find the cause of his lack of happiness and find the core reason as to why he was acting strange.
“Eds, c’mon. Don’t be like this.” Richie bounced against Eddie’s side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
Eddie scoffed, ignoring the taller boys question and grabbing Richie’s arm and shoving it off him. “Go wrap your twig arms around Beverly, I’m sure she’d fucking enjoy that considering all you did today was stare at her.”
Eddie walked quicker now, his tiny feet pacing forth. A lightbulb went off in Richie’s head as well as his lips spreading into a knowing smirk.
Richie cleared his throat, “My my, Eds. Are you jealous?”
Eddie stopped in his tracks, heat rising against the skin on his face and spreading to his ears and clothed chest. He turned around with an angered look on his face.
“J-jealous? What the fuck of Richie?”
Richie’s smirk turned into a sly one, walking closer and folding his arms. “You’re jealous of me and Beverly, ain’t ya’?”
Just as Eddie was about to protest, Richie walked up and pressed his finger against Eddie’s lips teasingly, rubbing it around over them to force a funny face upon Eddie.
“Don’t answer that, I don’t want you blushing anymore than you already are.”
Eddie was horrified, he didn’t know that the heat sensation over his skin was him blushing. Why was he blushing?
“I’m not-” Eddie stuttered, before being shushed by Richie’s finger again.
“Is this why you’ve been ignoring me all day?” Richie tilted his head, his curls flopping to one side.
Eddie averted his eyes elsewhere, feeling the shame creep up behind his shoulder. Silence was the best option for Eddie.
“Hm.” Richie hummed, moving his finger away and standing closer to Eddie. “Can I give you some advice Eds?”
Both of the two boys stood in front of Eddie’s house now, Eddie barely moving head to nod as anxiety took over. The anticipation of not knowing what ‘advice’ Richie was going to give him was killing him; Richie was dragging it out purposely to create suspense.
Richie finally spoke in a soft and gentle voice, “Open your fucking eyes, it’s so obvious that I’m in love with you.”
Eddie opened his mouth, only for Richie to once again cut him off. This time, it wasn’t Richie’s finger but in fact Richie’s chapped, gum flavoured lips merging against Eddie’s own smooth pair of lips.
Eddie was quickly filled with anxious thoughts, he thought about how many germs were in a human mouth. For instance, there are actually more germs in a human mouth than a dogs. Eddie hitched for a second, before somehow gaining strength and pushing the thoughts away as he trembled into his first kiss with Richie, the boy he was falling for.
Eddie felt the heat run down his shoulders and smothering his spine, sending tingles as he twitched his fingers against Richie’s cheeks whilst on his tiptoes. Richie confidently wrapped his hands around Eddie’s hips to hold him in place for the kiss. Both of the boys had their eyes closed as they enjoyed their moment in perfect unity.
After what seemed like forever, which forever was 10 seconds in this instance, both pulled away for fresh air. Their eyes opened slowly, Eddie looking up at Richie through his eyelashes and Richie surprisingly having flushed freckles over his dotted skin.
Both boys giggled, stepping away from each other awkwardly.
“So.. so uh- don’t get jealous.” Richie chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“i don’t.. I don’t think I’ll need too.” Eddie whispered, clutching his shirt for mental and physical support.
Richie smiled down at the boy, “Well.. goodnight Eds. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With that, Richie quickly rushed off with quick steps and his arms frantically moving in-between his steps.
Eddie watched from afar, his fingertips touching where Richie had kissed him. The bubblegum taste lingered on his own lips from Richie’s, his tongue licking at his bottom lip ever so slightly to remember how Richie melted perfectly against him with no flaws whatsoever. How Richie made him feel negatively about Eddie by making him jealous. How Richie managed to sweep Eddie up and off his feet in the end. How… Eddie loved Richie too.
“I love you too.” Eddie whispered to Richie, despite Richie being very much so far away and couldn’t possibly hear Eddie’s silent confession.
With that, Eddie turned on his heels and made his way back inside.
Lance usually loved picture day, as a self proclaimed pretty boy it really was his time to shine. That would be if he hadn’t of loses his contacts that morning and the only glasses he had were a pair of thick black wide frames that made him look like someone dressing up as a dork for Halloween. He never used to mind wearing glasses, but after he started high school, other people latched onto somthing to tease him about and well… there’s only so many times you can come back and find bi-eyes written across your locker before enough enough.
Lance had hoped to never have to go to school wearing his glasses again, however since he was legally blind without them he didn’t really have much choice.
————- “McClain!” Iverson Lance’s hated home room teacher yelled as Lance slipped into the class room “your late!” “Yeah I had to-” “No excuses! March to the principles office and hand over those joke glasses this instant!” Before Lance could protest Iverson had grabbed his glasses and shoved him into the hallway locking the door behind him. Lance half wanted to just hammer on the door until he was let back in but he was already on thin ice with Iverson… he didn’t need an excuse to be expelled. Lance sighed as he squinted trying to see to no avail. “Ok… come on Lancy Lance, you’ve walked down this hallway a million times, you could do it blind folded.” He mumbled to himself as he slowly made his way down the hall. For a little while everything was going fine, Lance even held his head up high thinking he could do this! That was until he walked right into someone sending whoever they were flying and Lance stumbling back. “WHAT THE HELL MY COMPUTER!” Lance cringed he knew that voice. It belonged to the scary smart Pidge. They had joined the school a couple months ago and already had a reputation for ruining the lives of anyone that crossed them. And Lance had just judging from the blurred pieces on the floor, that their precious computer had been broken. “Oh… man I’m so sorry.” “You will be!” Pidge yelled standing up and poking Lance in the chest. “You think you can purposely bump into me and get away with it!” Wait… Oh no they thought it was on purpose! “H-hang on a second! It was an accident!” “Please, you were looking right at me!” Lance felt his heat beat speed up and he took a couple steps back. “I didn’t see you I swear!” “Yeah sure you didn’t! I know your type, pretty rich boy who’s had everything handed to him on a silver platter! Well I won’t let you push me around!” Pidge sounded so angry but also a note of pain to their voice… Had they been bullied too in the past? “I really didn’t see you!” Lance tried but he doubted they believed him. He was finding it hard to breath as the familiar sensation of a panic attack came on. He had to get out of here. Lance spin on his heals and started to run, he couldn’t see where he was going but at the time he didn’t care. “LOOK OUT!” Lance turned his head in the direction of Pidge’s voice as his feet slipped out from under him and the last thing he rembered was staring up at the blurry ceiling and cursing himself for forgetting about the stairs, before suddenly their was pain… then nothing. ———————-
Lance woke up to someone slipping something into his face. He couldn’t figure out what it was, his whole body felt heavy and like his mind was disconnected from his body. Lance forced his eyes open only to wince at the intense light above him. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t looking at his bedroom ceiling, also that he could actually see. Suddenly as Lance tried to move an intense pain throbbing throughout his whole body became known. He groaned but continued to try and sit up. “Your awake!” Lance made a small noise of pain as he moved to look at Pidge a little surprised to see them sitting at the edge of his bed looking worried. “Y-yeah… what happened?” He asked rubbing his head only to find it bandaged. “You… you fell down two flights of stairs. Got a pretty bad concussion and maybe a broken rib or two. An ambulance is on its way.” Pidge looked down looking at their hands. Lance couldn’t understand why he could see then he realised someone must of gotten his glasses… Was it Pidge. “I’m sorry.” Lance smiled as he sat up in the bed wincing at the protest from his ribs. “What! Why?” Pidge asked. “Broke your computer.” Lance shrugged. When did he get so tired? Pidge sighed running a hand through her short messy hair “it wasn’t your fault… I checked out your prescription. Man it’s no wonder you bumped into me. Your like super blind.” Lance cringed “yeah… still sorry though. Please don’t… don’t hack in and use ‘puter powers to ruin my life.” Lance slurred finding it harder and harder to keep his eyes open. “Hu?… oh that” Pidge chuckled “they wouldn’t stop misgendering even after I told them I’m gender neutral. I only changed their grades back from what they payed me to do.” “Oh…” “Guess we both misjudged eachother?” “Guess so.” Lance smiled wondering why the world was getting blurry if he was still wearing his glasses. “Lance?” Pidge’s voice sounded distant and muffled like he was underwater. He saw their eyes widen in horror as Lance slumped backwards. He could see her yelling and a group of people came running in wearing green uniforms pulling a what Lance thought looked like a bed on wheels. That was a funny thought. Lance was sure he had only blinked. But when he opened his eyes again he was lying in a hospital bed with Hunk standing over him. “Hunk?” “Oh thanks god Lance!” Hunk yelled hugging him causing Lance to cry out in pain. “Ribs buddy, ribs!” Hunk let go sheepishly “sorry… but when I got a call from your mom that you were sent to hospital I was so worried! Why the hell weren’t you wearing your contacts or glasses!” Lance shrugged “Ivserson confiscated my glasses and I couldn’t find my contacts this morning.” A look of anger crossed Hunks usually kind features. Suddenly a thought came to Lance’s mind. How did Pidge get his glasses back? “Oh yeah you had a visitor a while ago. They left you a card.” Hunks easy smile returned as he handed over a folded piece of lined paper acting as a crude card. Lance opened it and chuckled quietly to himself.
'Dear Lance, Sorry for scaring you to the point of you trying to fly away, don’t do that again or I will use my hacking powers to ruin your life. -Pidge. Ps. Don’t worry about Iverson, I tatted him out to Principle Coran. Us four eyes gotta stick together.’
Lance smiled as he placed the card on his bed side table making a mental note to offer to get their computer fixed later on.
Summary: You and Tom say “I love you” for the first time.
Tom had known he loved you for a little while. It had really solidified for him several weeks earlier, a week after he’d met your parents. He’d had a rough work week in LA, and had planned to visit you for the weekend, but wasn’t sure he was up to it come Friday morning.
So with a bit of reluctance, Tom flew out as planned and found himself knocking on your apartment door, excited to see you, but tired and grumpy all the same.
When you opened the door, you gave him a sympathetic smile and pulled him into a tight hug.
“I’m glad you’re here,” you said, pressing a kiss just below his ear.
He dropped his bag in the living room and returned with you to the kitchen, where several pots and pans were resting on the stovetop. Spoons, measuring cups, and spices were scattered across the counter next to a printed recipe.
“What are you making?” he asked, resting his chin on your shoulder as you stirred.
“That thing your mom always makes, that you made me when I was sick last month? I thought it’d be nice to come back to.”
He quirked a smile at that, genuinely taken aback by your thoughtfulness, and lifted his head to press a kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna go change,” he said, grabbing his bag and taking it to your bedroom.
He came back a minute later shirtless and in gray sweatpants, stretching out on your couch. “Mmm, I forgot how comfy your couch is,” he called over his shoulder to where you were in the kitchen.
You quickly wiped your hands on a dish towel before strolling into the living room and plopping down next to him. You snuggled into his side as he lazily scrolled through his Instagram feed with squinty tired eyes. After a few minutes you spoke. “So…you had a really long week?”
He sighed, dropping his phone on the coffee table and wrapping his arm around you. “Yeah. Lots of paps. Everywhere, all the time. And then my manager’s been calling me nonstop about a new deal we’re negotiating. I didn’t really get any sleep. I just feel drained.”
“I’m sorry, baby. Hopefully you’ll catch up on some sleep this weekend.”
He nodded his head, running his fingers up and down your back. “How has your week been?”
“Eh, y’know-”, you were about to respond when a loud alarm sounded from the kitchen. You sat up startled.
“Oh fuck!” you exclaimed, racing into your smoky kitchen to pull your burning lemon sage chicken out from the oven.
Tom came running in behind you, assessing the situation, before grabbing your discarded dish towel to fan the smoke away from the alarm. You threw the burnt chicken on top of the counter, shutting the oven with a huff before grabbing another dish towel from the drawer to help Tom fan the smoke alarm.
Tom looked over to your frazzled state and frustrated expression. Your hair was sticking up in all different directions, you shirt was covered in splattered lemon sage sauce, and your cheeks were flushed red both from the heat and embarrassment. Tom couldn’t help but smile, and it dawned on him that he was crazy for even questioning whether he wanted to spend his weekend next to you.
“What’s so funny?” you questioned when you noticed Tom staring at you, giggling, and cracking his first real smile that night.
“Nothing, I just.. I -”
I love you, he thought to himself.
He’d kept it to himself that night. He hadn’t wanted to scare you off, or ruin what you guys had. But as time went on, he found himself thinking it more and more often, and getting closer to letting it slip out.
A few weeks passed and another weekend scheduled for you to visit Tom on his press tour rolled around. It was late and the two of you were fooling around in his hotel room.
You were straddling Tom on his bed, and he was extra eager, as it’d been a couple weeks since you’d been together. He roughly pulled your shirt over your head before reattaching his lips to yours. He reached around your back to unclip your bra, but got thrown off by your new clasp-less lacy bralette. Frustrated, he tugged too hard and ripped it down the back.
“Tom!” you laughed, pulling away from him in surprise.
His jaw dropped a little. “I swear I didn’t mean to do that. I’ll get you a new one, I promise. I am so sorry.” He chuckled at the stunned look on your face, making you laugh harder.
“It’s okay,” you giggled. “I still love you.” You paused for a second, realizing what you’d just said, and quickly pressed your lips back to his in a panic thinking, Dear god I hope he somehow didn’t just hear that.
He gripped your waist but pulled his mouth away from yours, certain he’d heard the words he’d craved for weeks. “What’d you just say?”
“Nothing,” you said, moving his hands up to your breasts in an effort to distract him and leaning in to kiss him again.
After briefly allowing your lips to press to his, he pulled away again, flipping you over and pinning your hands down on either side of your head.
“Tell me again,” he said with a smile.
“Hmm?” You scrunched your forehead still trying to deny what you’d confessed.
“Tell me again,” he teased, kissing your jaw, “that you love me.”
“Did I say that?” you teased back, wiggling your body in attempt to break free from his grasp.
“Mhmm,” he smiled into your neck before pulling back to look at you and releasing your wrists.
You sighed in defeat, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I guess I did….because I do. I love you.”
He grazed his upturned lips against yours. “Good. Because I love you too.”
❛❛we’re next-door neighbors and have hated each other since middle school but now we’re going to the same university how can we avoid the other person like the plague so there isn’t a crime scene— what do you mean you promised my mom you would keep an eye on me???? you fucking planned this❜❜ AU
COUNT → 21.489
GENRE → smut | angst
PAIRING → jungkook | reader
WARNINGS → dom and sub tones | threesome | oral sex | explicit language | penetration | public sex | grinding | graphic dirty talk | slight female masturbation | overstimulation
As the back of Jungkook’s head rested against the driver seat’s
headrest, catching his breath, your glare hardened.
Once again, he’d fucked you and not cared whether you came or
not. In fact, for the duration of his penis being in your vagina, he’d barely
even touched you. And sadly, it hadn’t even occurred
to you he’d used you once again until it was too late. Your clit didn’t matter to him apparently; your pleasure didn’t matter to him either.
All that mattered was his dick. That’s all that ever
After that weekend at the
camping grounds where you actually came for once, you were expecting something
better than whatever the fuck he called this performance. Your horny brain had
quickly forgotten that it’d been your own fingers that got yourself off—not him—and those nights you spent in his tent were no
exception. Why were you so surprised? This was Jungkook you were talking about—he would never fucking care about you or any part of you.
A/N:ALSO, WARNING: This is kinda seeming like a Stan x Reader with how much i mention Stan but don’t get it twisted: IT WILL BE A RICHIE X READER! It’s just Stan was so close to winning i wanna still make him a strong, prominent character!
I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. It doesn’t have to be long, I appreciate every single comment I receive and telling me just helps inspire me to write it more frequently.
Pairing: Loser’s Club x Reader, slight Henry x Reader (you’ll see) Richie x Reader.
Warnings: force, bullying, depressing and sad tones, and sexual abuse (mild) plus Henry being a dick, so….
You hadn’t realized how late you’d been at quarry, until you stepped back outside. There, standing in the middle of the road stood you, panting and pacing in the stop. The sun was setting and you could feel the cool air breeze in as the warm sun was covered by the dark sky.
Your mind was running wild. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t think coherently. IT had Stan… while you and everyone else had been bonding at the quarry, Stan had been in danger. And it was all because of you. If you hadn’t dragged him back into this mess, if you’d just left him alone… then none of this would’ve happened. You needed to find Richie, needed to tell him what had happened. But no one else, Richie already knew and that was the only reason why you justified going to him.
You wouldn’t risk the lives of your friends by dragging them back into something they thought was done.
You clenched your fists, nodding to yourself. Richie had only left a little bit ago, if you continued down the path you should be able to reach him before he got home. Then, you’d tell him everything and you’d guys would figure out what to do. So, nodding your head you began walking again, not quite running but your feet carried you along the road quickly. It wasn’t until you reached an alleyway, a alleyway you were sure Richie took home and turned a corner, did you feel your body flying downwards.
Jimin stared at the larvae sitting across from him, warily, it was currently trying to eat spaghetti with a knife. He should probably stop it, but that meant touching the thing and then he would—
“Stop looking at my kid like that.” You roll your eyes before replacing her knife with a fork and watching a happy little grin stretch across her face.
“Like what?” Jimin clears his throat.
“Like you’re having an entire internal monologue listing all the reasons you’ll never have kids.” You mutter, using a napkin to wipe stray sauce from Mina’s face.
“I’m not doing that.” He says and he shrinks when you pin him with a hard stare, “What? I’m not! I did that on the drive over here – now I’m just watching in mild fascination at the eating habits of—”
“Oh my God.”
“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He laughs when you move to get up, he tugs you back down by the wrist and you ignore the butterflies erupting your chest when he takes a second too long to remove his hand, “Will you relax already? You’ve barely spoken to me since we’ve ordered. Tell me about yourself, how have you been how did all of this happen?”
“It’s not exactly exciting.” You sigh, “It’s actually a very long story.”
“Let’s start with the basics then – are you still with her father?” Jimin lowers his voice, sparing Mina a glance.
“He left about as soon as I took the pregnancy test so no.” You laugh bitterly, picking up your own slice of pizza to dig in.
You watch helplessly as Mina nearly swipes her pasta off the table but Jimin is on top of it, grabbing her bowl before it makes its crash landing and sending the little girl a stern look before handing her back her fork. She grins unabashedly.
“Do I know him?” Jimin queries, keeping a careful eye on the brat now that she’s decided to make toys out of the cutlery. He sighs but waves over the waitress, “Do you guys have like one of those coloring sheets for kids or something?”
“Sorry sir.” The waitress sends an apologetic smile before moving to refill everyone’s water. Jimin glares but begrudgingly unlocks his phone before opening one of the few games he has stored.
“She’ll crack your phone.” You say mildly, watching in only half amusement as Jimin glares at your daughter when she keeps pressing buttons.
“I’ll buy a new one.” He snaps before he remembers he supposed to be wooing you.
It was too easy, too easy to fall back into the pattern of your old friendship.
You had begrudgingly agreed to dinner with him, only because in turn he allowed you to pick the restaurant, a quaint little mom and pop pizza parlor not too far from your office that you frequented. It wasn’t anything he was used to, at least not in light of recent events and his acquisition of millions, but it was good. One of those places that hand made their crust, they were popular and bustling with business but still managed to find a seat for you. Jimin took quick notice of the warm, familiar smiles sent your way from the old man working the front of house, going as far to boop the little girl you were toting, on one cherub cheek.
He was scared someone might break into his car in this neighborhood and you could only roll your eyes because this place was a suburban dream compared to where you stayed.
“No you don’t know him.” You say when you find your heart doing weird floppy things at the sight of your daughter and Jimin interacting so causally – it was something you wanted to erase from your memory because it hurt. “He was some guy I met at college, well before I dropped out to take care of Mina.”
“And your parents?” He asks, a frown marring his face at the thought.
“Disowned me when I wouldn’t abort her.” You shrug as though the words didn’t feel like nails clawing their way up your throat – an old wound re-opened but you feigned indifference pretty well now a days. Even you almost believed your lies.
“So who helps you? You don’t get child support or—”
“Jimin.” You say softly, because it’s in your nature to treat him with kid gloves on, even if he is overstepping, “I’ve been doing this for a while now. It’s tough but I manage. I’m fine – we’re fine. Now can we talk about something less, I don’t know, depressing.”
Jimin lets out a long suffering sigh but he relents with a curt nod, you don’t miss the way the muscle in his jaw jumps – and what a chiseled jaw it’s become over time. You nearly lose track staring at it.
“Where do you work at now?” He asks, momentarily distracted by a piece of cheese hanging from his chin. He lets out an expletive before wincing at Mina.
You stifle a grin because it’s so much like the old Jimin you couldn’t help the elation that bubbled over in your chest. Instead you choose to rest your chin in your palm while watching him.
“I sale time shares at a realty office, though I’m sure you already know that since you tracked me down and sent me gifts.” You murmur dryly when he smiles, “It was very Tony Stark of you.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me.” Jimin says honestly, putting a hand over his heart.
“Mmm.” You hum sarcastically, “So how are your parents, living lavish at the hands of their millionaire son I assume?”
“Living lavish.” He scoffs, “You’ve met my parents. My mom barely let me renovate our old house and only did so because I threw a bitch fit that she wouldn’t accept the beachside bungalow I had lined up for them.”
You grin at the thought of a very stern and self sufficient Mrs. Park arguing with her mogul son, because she probably won… but still you making tsking noise anyway.
“Well, in her defense you can be a bit… frivolous with your spending.” You say, nodding towards the bag of gifts seated next to him.
“I work damn hard to be frivolous. You two always did love ganging up on me.” He glared, “You’re so much like her it’s scary.”
“It’s why she loved me.” You tease back. “I’m her favorite child, even Jihyunnie has accepted it.”
Something changes in his face and his expression is softening. You scramble to change the topic because you knew how easy it was to get caught up in the old days, where things were much easier and there was less pressure on you, less weighing on your mind.
“How is he now?” You ask suddenly and Jimin’s features shutter closed – back to the calm, cool and collected Jimin that had picked you up.
“He’s doing good. He’ll graduate in a year.” He says mildly, “He’s still a brat and beating me up on visits.”
“I would hope so. You need someone to keep you grounded, remind you where you came from.” You harrumph.
“They miss you, you know.” Jimin says quietly, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. He’s taken to staring at Mina who was currently taking about a thousand pictures with his front camera. “My mom misses you. You know how she always complained about being the only woman in the house.”
He looks up at you and it’s your turn to look away. Because you had shoved back so many memories that were associated with him, but now sitting here at dinner, reminiscing it was easy to remember the bond you shared with the elder Park. It was something you also couldn’t have back and again, it hurt knowing that.
“I’m sure she’d love to see you again—love to meet Mina too.” He says softly.
“Jimin.” You say curtly and he returns your tone.
“I don’t think that's—”
“You think too much is the problem.” He sighs, before signaling the waitress for the check, “Just because you… because we ended on rough terms… I know it’s a lot to ask but, I hope you don’t hold that against my parents. You were great to have around and they miss you. I’ve never gotten so much shit over something in my life—you would think that we were actually dating.”
You averted your gaze for the millionth time that night because it was true. Though there was no official label between the two of you, you were caught in an open limbo between more than friends but not quite dating. Even if Jimin couldn’t admit a lot of things to himself he was forced to acknowledge that things had been almost domestic between the two of you – between the sheer amount of time you spent over at each other’s places, or in his bed, lazing around doing nothing. When his parents would ask for his whereabouts it was always the same—
“____.” He says quietly, before handing his credit card off to the server, “Think about what I said, yeah?”
“I will.” You reply with a stiff smile.
The silence that was once comfortable between the two of you had some how shifted to a stilted, and unwelcome one at the mention of the past. You find yourself fidgeting in your seat at the weight of his words, because despite it all it was something that you desperately wanted as well.
“Tell me more about your job,” Jimin says, returning the topic to a lighter subject, it didn’t take a genius to notice how tense you’d gotten at the mention of seeing his family again.
“I’m sure it’s not as exciting as being a billionaire.” You say off handedly, going to sip at your wine.
“Millionaire.” Jimin corrects and you scoff at him, “But being rich isn’t as exciting as you’d expect either.”
“How very modest of you,” you roll your eyes before sucking at your teeth, “I would kill for middle class these days.”
“I could help you get there.” He says lightly with a shrug and your spine straightens, “Not a hand out, a job, ____. I looked into your company the other day—”
“You did what?” You ask, indignantly.
And just like that the switch had been flipped again and you were on your guard.
“Is this really a surprise, you knew I was looking for you, it only makes sense that I would check the companies shares and stocks while I was at it. I know you don’t believe me, but we’re friends and I wanted to make sure that you were doing okay for yourself.”
“No Jimin, we were friends ten years ago.” You correct, ears turning pink at his audacity, “And I know you’re out of practice but friends ask friends how they’re doing, they don’t run a financial background check on them.”
“Hey, I didn’t run a financial background check on you,” he scoffs, “I didn’t even peek at your credit score even though it was right their in front of me.”
You threw your napkin down on the table before narrowing your eyes at him, “You’re a real ass you know that?”
“That may be true but you know as well as I do that you wouldn’t be half as defensive if it weren’t for the fact that the companies going bankrupt.” He says calmly but his knuckles going white around his grip on the table cloth, “They’re going under and you have—”
“Five maybe six months left there, I’m well aware.” You scowl, “but that doesn’t give you the right to invade my privacy like this. And besides, a job? Let me guess you want me to be your assistant so you can bend me over and —”
You chance a look at Mina, who’s still well engrossed with the apps on Jimin’s phone and let out an exasperated sigh.
“You’re lucky if you have four months there.” He says mildly, “Looking at their financial statements I can tell they barely have enough to pay you minimum wage, so let me guess you’ve been working there for going on six years and you’ve yet to get a pay increase am I right?”
“God, you’re so condescending.” You laugh bitterly.
“Only when I’m right.” He says, “And for the record, you wouldn’t be working for me. If you think I stand chance getting any work done while you’re around you’d be delusional. I have a friend who owns a small law firm, he’s looking for a secretary and you’ve had more than enough experience doing clerical work.”
“Your head must be impossibly thick if I have to say this again but I don’t need your help,” you glare.
“Think about Mina.” He argues.
“I am thinking about Mina,” you say, much louder than you intend. You clear your throat before lowering your voice, “She’s the only thing I think about and you don’t get to bulldoze in ten years later and try to pick up where things left off. We’re not in high school anymore. This is real life, it’s my life.”
“You’re right, we’re not in high school anymore but things sure haven’t changed, have they?” He spat, “You still have to be in control of everything.”
“Of my life? Yes! Of my daughters life? You bet your ass.” You scowl.
“Fine. You’re coming across loud and clear, you don’t need or want my help.” He says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “But at least—”
He stops mid sentence when the shrill ring of your phone pierces through the otherwise comfortably quiet restaurant and you’re shuffling through your purse for your phone. You look up at him before sighing, “It’s work. I have to take this.”
“Hello? Yes, hi Mr. Kim.” You’re already rising to your feet when one chubby hand comes up to clutch your shirt.
“Momma,” Mina calls and it garners both your attention, “It was an accident.”
“Oh no.” You sigh, a frown marring your face as you go to your knees to collect the remainder of spaghetti off the floor, the rest found their way all down the front of her little tank top and you groan, “I’m sorry not you sir, I just—yes I understand the severity of this contract I…. yes sir I'm—”
“Go.” Jimin mouths, before shooing you away with the flick of his wrist. You stare up at him wide eyed, phone still pressed to your ear and an indecisive look marring your face.
Jimin sighs but rises to his feet, lifting you with him and all but pushing you in the direction of the exit before he’s turning to Mina. You send a curt nod of gratitude at him before bustling out and attempting to placate your boss on the phone.
Jimin has never carried a child before. He has especially never carried one covered nearly head to toe in an Italian red sauce delicacy. He had however carried a sack of potatoes and gauging the insufferable little brats weight, she was about the same size. So he applies all the knowledge he’s accumulated in twenty some years of carrying groceries into the house for his mother and keeps the little girl at a giggling arm’s length from his body while he fast walks into the men’s room.
He’s already had her set down on the porcelain countertop before his gaze catches on something in the mirror. A man maybe in his mid twenties is staring at him from the urinal. Jimin’s brows slash down at the inquisitive look before sending him a nod, “What? You’ve never seen a kid before?”
The man is a flurry of movement, zipping up his jeans before sending an apologetic bow at Jimin and shuffling out of the room.
Jimin sighs at the sweet smile Mina’s sending his way, an adorable dimple winking at him, before he rolls his eyes and swipes at her glasses lens where a stray splatter of meat sauce has found its way. He sends her a stern look, “Yah. I bet that smiles gotten you out of a lot of trouble. It won’t work on me.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation as you try and explain to your boss for maybe the millionth time (that night) why the Henderson case you got handed a week ago wasn’t moving as quickly as he’d like it.
For all it was worth your boss wasn’t a bad guy, and the company you worked for didn’t cheat you out of money the way Jimin had made it sound. Now, did you deserve a raise after all the time and hours you had put in? Did you need it? Hell yes. But things weren’t always black and white, in fact your entire life seemed to be sat in one huge area of gray.
The company you worked for was family owned and every person in it was sweet, soft hearted, and genuine and all things considered those were good traits to have—except when you were working in the realty field. It was cut throat and competitive. More than once you had seen your boss caught up with loan sharks, renting out time shares at a discounted price to homeless shelters. And then there was the fact that he was just a tad dimwitted, but your heart had gone soft for the old man that had taken both you and Mina under his wing. So you owed him that. You couldn’t give him much but loyalty anyway.
When you returned to the restaurant with a headache you hadn’t had five minutes ago, you look for Jimin to apologize but your footsteps stutter and your heart drops to your belly when you see the two seats still vacant. You turn to the hostess and nearly fall into hysteria when she tells you they left.
Your phone chimes.
Unknown [7:23:45]: meet us at Fro-zone
“What did I say?” Jimin scowls, “One scoop.”
“Your moms gonna kick my ass if I—”
“Jimin.” You call out, hair wind blown from the jog over here and when you meet his gaze he tips his head up at you in acknowledgement.
He was hunched over a whining Mina who had shed her white tank top in place of a pink shirt with a sparkling heart in the middle. He was looking at her sternly and if you weren’t careful you would mistake Mina for one of his business associates with the way he was carefully explaining to her why she couldn’t have more than a handful of sugar before bed—it involved you and him in an oiled up cage match which he would inevitably lose.
You took that as your cue to step in.
“Momma!” She cried gleefully, “Where’d you go?”
“Where did you go?” You retort, poking a finger at her protruding belly and making her jump back with a giggle, “I like your shirt.”
“Jiminnie picked it out!” she grins proudly and Jimin sends a dry look your direction.
“It was either this or the neon pink sweater with seven bows on it and a giant pop up unicorn head—I don’t care how old your kid is, not even she could pull off something so ridiculous.”
“She likes pink.” You shrug but Jimin spots the mirth in your eyes.
“Jiminnie knows a lot of bad words.” Mina tattles and Jimin glares at the little demon. “He owes like ten dollars to the swear jar.”
“The fee’s twenty five scents a swear word just how much did you cuss with my kid?” You cock a brow.
“Is that the only way you’re accepting money?” He retorts with a snarky expression, “Let me stick around after you put Mina to bed and I’ll give you enough material for her college fund.”
You grin but don’t say anything as he leads you to his car.
It isn’t all that much later when he pulls up to your car in the parking garage. A glance back in his rearview tells you that Mina is out cold and you sigh with the thought that she is way too big to be getting carried anymore. You turn in your seat to wake her up but Jimin shakes his head at you before opening his car door and heading to the back.
It’s probably the fact that a man hasn’t carried Mina since she was born that attributes more to the pain in your chest than it is that it’s Jimin. Jimin of all people putting a sturdy hand on the back of your daughters head and tucking her tiny glasses in his hand so she doesn’t hurt her face. He waits for you to unlock the door to your car before setting her down in her car seat and leaving you to buckle her in.
He’s still holding her specs when you turn back to him, fiddling with a small scratch on one of the lenses before handing them back to you.
You can’t quite put a finger on the atmosphere that resonates in the otherwise abandoned parking garage—nonetheless words find their way to your lips that you had no intent of sharing with him.
“I’ll take you up on your offer.” You utter.
“The job?” He brightens at your words and you wince.
“No,” you say quietly. “I… maybe if me and Mina have time we’ll stop by your parents sometime. I’m sure your Mom would love to meet her.”
His expression doesn’t dull at your words, if anything it only gets that much brighter at he mention of his parents and for the briefest of moments your caught up in your old feelings, because this was too much like the old Jimin. The one who wore his heart on his sleeve, and was never sly or cool or charming in a way that wasn’t dorky.
“You really mean that?”
“It couldn’t hurt to rekindle that relationship.” You shrug.
Requests: “Hi I love your writing and I was hoping of you could write one where the reader is teasing Paul while hanging out with the pack and then he gets so frustrated that he makes the both of you leave and end up having rough sex in the car please? Sorry if it doesn’t make sense” -Anonymous and “so i saw your sex with paul lahote headcanon list, and i saw the thigh riding and i was wondering if you could write a paul lahote smut with thigh riding please? and the reader would be a curvy girl?” -Anonymous
Author’s Note: I decided to add these requests together to give me more of a plot to work with. I decided not to make it car sex bc I have a headcanon that Paul has a tuck, plus I don’t think any car would give Paul enough room to tease/fuck you as much as he’d like to. Also, I don’t write specifically for one body type, I try to write where anyone with any body type reads my work can imagine themselves in it.