this has been sitting in my drafts for a long long time

cinderella: redo

so i was watching cinderella while doing my nails and waiting for them to dry which was clearly a Mistake because now i can’t help but think -

the evil stepmother was always evil, okay. say her abuse of her own daughters was different than that of cinderella’s - but it was still abuse. giving them impossible expectations, telling them they were never good enough, never pretty enough, never smart enough. and then she gets married, and anastasia and drizella are ecstatic because this man seems kind and warm and maybe just maybe he can temper their mother, maybe with him around she won’t be so cruel. so they’re on their very best behavior in the beginning, they do just as their mother taught - they trot out their best upper court manners in an attempt to get their new stepfather to like them. but it just comes off as cold and snooty and they’re trying, they are, they’re just bad at it. and they see how he is with cinderella, the smiling girl their own age, and they are jealous. they don’t mean to be, they try not to be, they know it isn’t becoming of young ladies. but she gets hugs and kisses and affection and they get rulers slapped on their hands when they reach for desert and sharp jabs to their sides when they slouch and - soon they hate cinderella, not for anything she’s done, but for what she has and they dont

but then her father dies. and it’s all a tumble of things and cinderella is crying and they’ve lost their only chance at escaping their mother’s clutches and it’s terrible. and everything settles and there’s no reason to be jealous anymore but resentment is hard to let go of and they don’t know what to do. they’re only kids too after all. and they’re so terribly bad at comforting people, they can do flowery words and know all the right bows but cinderella is so sad and they just don’t know what to do with that, because they’re supposed to be sisters but they’re not even friends

and slowly but surely their mother starts abusing cinderella, starts making her a maid in her own home, and she’s their mother, what are anastasia and drizella supposed to do? she rules them with an iron fist, and cinderella doesn’t even like them anyway, it’s none of their business.

except one night anastasia crawls into her sister’s bed in the middle of the night and wakes her up. “i was thirsty,” she explains, eyes wide and shiny, and they’re bad at this with other people but drizella has no problems with pulling anastasia into her arms. the younger girl clutches her sister and continues, “i was thirsty and i went down to the kitchen to get some water and - and cinderella is still up! she’s doing the dishes, and she should be asleep, mom is going to make her make breakfast in the morning and -” she cuts herself off with a hiccup and whispers, “it’s not fair.”

“life isn’t fair,” drizella says, echoing one of their mother’s favorite phrases. but her sister is staring at her with wet eyes, and it’s not like their mother is likely to get up before sunrise anyway, she hates waking up, so she pulls herself and anastasia out of bed and off they go.

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anonymous asked:

How about a semi angsty fight with the rfa+V but they make up because HAPPY ENDINGS ARE NICE

I’m a slut for angst don’t give me this power 

Yoosung: 

✮ you had accidentally knocked the power cord to his computer while you were cleaning and he was playing LOLOL 
✮ he screamed 
✮ he was ranting and raving about how he was in the middle of an important raid and he was so close to levelling up 
✮ and you’re kinda standing there with a laundry basket and a pile of clothes almost over your head 
✮ and you don’t know what to do 
✮ you kind of want to cry 
✮ you kind of want to throw the laundry at his head 
✮ until 
✮ “rika never did things like this!!”
✮ oh 
✮ of course
✮ it somehow always got back to this point. comparing you with rika 
✮ sometimes he didn’t mean it or even realise he’d done it. but this was different 
✮ you remain eerily calm, putting the laundry down before turning to glare at yoosung 
✮ a wave of realisation hits him and he’s just full of guilt 
✮ you very calmly tell him you’re going to spend the night with jaehee, and ask him not to contact you 
✮ he begins crying and pleading with you to stop and stay 
✮ he’s so sorry and he’s just hating himself while you pack an overnight bag
✮ he’s practically on his knees and following you, begging you to stay 
✮ you kind of pause when you see the raw sorrow in his face 
✮ you sigh and stop for a moment 
✮ you’re hurt but you know that you have to talk it out with yoosung for it to get better 
✮ you both talk for a few hours, and he completely understands your viewpoint and he apologises 18923475829 times 
✮ he stays off of LOLOL for a few weeks, and even after that he tries not to get too obsessed– because that’s how the whole problem started 
✮ he just doesn’t want to lose you 

Jaehee: 

✎ you just wanted her to stop working so much 
✎ she was working overtime at the cafe 
✎ so much that she practically lived there 
✎ she was there after-hours and before-hours 
✎ sometimes she slept there and wouldn’t come home 
✎ so you book a holiday for her in secret, making plans behind her back for the cafe so it can function without her
✎ you tell all the employees and the deliverers who are close with the shop 
✎ but when you sit jaehee down and announce your plan 
✎ she gets so cold 
✎ she wants none of it 
✎ she’s not overworking herself dammit 
✎ she’s just doing what needs to be done 
✎ you try telling her that she doesn’t need to coddle the cafe, that you and the other emplyees were fully capable of running it 
✎ but she’s so worked up 
✎ and she says that you can’t 
✎ you’re clearly offended and you’re upset that your hard work planning this holiday for her is being pushed aside 
✎ somehow, you get her to take the holiday and see how it pans out 
✎ she’s calling you constantly 
✎ eventually you start ignoring her calls and texts 
✎ she gets so freaked out that the cafe is literally crumbling with you in charge so she rushes home 
✎ and you’re so mad when she rushes into the cafe, only to stop when she sees everything is going as usual 
✎ “b-but you weren’t answering my calls! I thought something happened!” 
✎ “jaehee i was ignoring you because you have no trust in me and I was busy making sure you could enjoy your holiday!” you were screaming 
✎ she felt so bad 
✎ she took her vacation and came back a lot better 
✎ you two made up, and she explained that her problem came from being jumin’s assistant for so long (if she didn’t do her job everything fucked up bc jumin is horrible at his job lmao) 
✎ she was a lot more calm after that and took breaks when she needed to (even took some time off on every second weekend- when you took care of the cafe) 

Zen: 

✿ he was working 
✿ of course 
✿ his job was the root of most of your arguments as a couple 
✿ but this time he had gone out for drinks with the cast 
✿ while you were standing outside of a restaurant waiting for him- you were going to have a date since filming was wrapping up that day (which is why the cast was having drinks in the first place) 
✿ you had faith in him, and stayed there until the restaurant closed 
✿ which was very, very late in the evening, seeing as it was part bar 
✿ as you were walking home, upset 
✿ zen came stumbling out of the bar with his castmates 
✿ he doesn’t notice you at first 
✿ until one of his acting buddies points at you, not recognising you, and laughs about how you’re soaked in rain and look like you’ve had that worst day of your life 
✿ you hear him 
✿ zen chuckles slightly before looking closer and realising who it is 
✿ swears up a storm as he pushes away everyone- muttering out something like ‘ssss my girlfirendddd’ 
✿ he tries to grab you because you’re storming away 
✿ he’s trying to coo and ask you why you were out so late because he’s drunk and doesn’t remember 
✿ you slap his hands away before screaming at him 
✿ “I was waiting for you! Our date for celebrating the end of filming?! Guess you had other plans, huh?!” 
✿ he’s so shocked like 
✿ it looks like he’s been smacked in the face 
✿ he follows you all the way home, apologising profusely 
✿ you make him sleep on the couch and lock yourself in the bedroom 
✿ when he wakes up the next morning he remembers, even through his wicked hangover 
✿ he cooks an amazing breakfast and waits for you to come out 
✿ when you do he hands you flowers with a card about how sorry he is
✿ he swears that he’ll make it up to you- and never let it happen ever again 

Jumin: 

₩ he was planning on properly introducing you to his father 
₩ but he was getting so controlling 
₩ he literally dressed you and did your hair and practically gave you a lecture on how to act and what to say 
₩ you’re kind of pissed at him but try to understand that he’s just stressed about how his father will react 
₩ his father loves you, and you loosen up- begin to be yourself 
₩ his father leaves after blessing your relationship together 
₩ but jumin is fuming 
₩ ‘what were you doing?! I told you not to say this or that’ blah blah 
₩ you’re just so shocked 
₩ “jumin that’s not who I am!” 
₩ “that’s who you should be!” 
₩ silence. 
₩ jumin has never been afraid of anything 
₩ but he’s afraid of this silence and the tears that are slipping down your cheeks 
₩ he’s afraid of what he said. he’s afraid of himself 
₩ he stumbles over his words as he tries to apologise, saying that isn’t what he meant 
₩ you can’t hear him though, all you can hear is his previous words echoing through your head 
₩ you tell him you’re sleeping in the guest room that night- the only thing you said before locking him out 
₩ when you get up the next morning 
₩ you open the door and see jumin sitting on the ground agains the wall next to your door, elizabeth pulled to his chest 
₩ his eyes were puffy and his cheeks and nose red 
₩ he had a note next to him that he hadn’t finished 
₩ it read ‘I’m sorry’ over and over, tear stains smudging some of the letters 
₩ you sigh, and kneel down to wake him up 
₩ he explains that he thought his father wouldn’t accept you unless you were like the other women and he didn’t want his father to come between your relationship anymore than he already had with the Sarah bullshit 
₩ and you make up but he spends so long reassuring you that he loves you so much, just the way you are 

Seven/Saeyoung: 

✞ he was doing it again
✞ he was trying to push you away 
✞ someone had approached you while you were on the street, asking about a ‘707′ 
✞ when you told saeyoung he got so scared and reverted back to his old ways 
✞ trying to push you away so that you ‘wouldn’t get hurt’ 
✞ when you try to kiss his cheek he physically pushes you away (after acting hostile all day) 
✞ and you trip over his wires and fall- hitting your head on the ground 
✞ he’s shocked, you’re shocked 
✞ he reaches forward to try and help you but freezes when you flinch away 
✞ he feels like less than shit 
✞ he feels like death himself. the grim reaper- that’s him. 
✞ he watches helplessly as you stumble to your feet and rush off to the bedroom, locking yourself inside (even though Saeyoung had control over the locks) 
✞ he spends about an hour just leaning over his desk with his head in his hands, thinking over how terrible he had been 
✞ how you deserve so much better 
✞ he was unstable. he was dangerous. 
✞ you were the light. you were everything 
✞ after a while he unlocks the door and sends your robot-cat in with flowers and a note in his mouth 
✞ it’s a handwritten letter from saeyoung, telling you he was just scared 
✞ that he was so sorry. that he loved you more than he could ever understand and he didn’t know how to deal with that yet 
✞ you slowly walk out, seeing him sitting on the ground somewhere, surrounded by the mess that he’d made 
✞ he had thrown all the cushions and pillows on the couch. ripped up the first drafts of the note. he’d even knocked one of his monitors to the ground, shattering it.
✞ you sit with him and talk together 
✞ you make a plan for how you can both deal with these times better 
✞ he promises to spend his life making sure you’re as happy as you can be 

V/Jihyun:

☼ i’m so sorry but i don’t want to hurt this precious roll 

The Tiny Anthropologist's Advice for College:
  • 8 AM classes really aren't that bad: It may take some willpower (and coffee) to get there, but really, 8AMs aren't that bad. Get a decent amount of sleep the night before and you will be okay. If I can get myself and my 4 year old out of bed, get ready, drop her off at preschool and arrive on time for an 8am, you can too!
  • Taking classes that meet once a week for long blocks: If your learning style is such that sitting in a long lecture once a week is something you can handle, then these are the best classes to take. Personally, I have done 3 semesters of these and they have been my favorite and the ones I have gotten the best grades in.
  • Scheduling back-to-back class periods: These can be beneficial if you're the type of person that just likes to get everything out of the way at once. However, the downside is that you will not have time to eat between classes, and you may have to grab something and eat during lecture. If the buildings for your classes are far apart, this may not even be an option. Having breaks between classes is important to allow yourself mental relaxation and to eat, or catch up on work.
  • Don't be afraid to change your major: I've changed my major a lot, like maybe 8-10 times. The downside is that I am graduating a year late, but I took A LOT of fascinating classes and became a much better rounded student. Colleges know that student change their minds. If you switch majors 2-3 times, you won't end up behind. I'm a special case.
  • Take long-hand notes: You may feel strange taking long-hand notes while everyone else is typing away at their MacBooks, but long-hand notes are MUCH more beneficial as far as long-term memory goes, and you don't run the risk of being distracted by Facebook.
  • Dress appropriately for class: The college stereotype of everyone attending class in their pajamas isn't true. At least make the effort to throw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Your professors will notice if you look like a slacker in class, and dressing nicely (or at least not in your pajamas) shows them that you value your education and respect their lectures. People wear anything from casual clothes to ties to class, and everything inbetween. Don't be afraid you'll be overdressed, being underdressed is much worse (in my opinion).
  • Cultivate relationships with professors: ATTEND OFFICE HOURS. Close relationships with professors are massively helpful! Professors are much more willing to write letters of recommendation, look over rough drafts, or help you out via email at 10pm for students that they know than ones that they don't. Additionally, professors can be some of the most interesting people you will ever meet.
  • Attend class: Along the same lines as above, attending class is very important. You (or your parents) are paying for you to be there. You should try to get the most out of that by attending lectures that you have signed up for. Additionally, when it comes finals time and you need to boost your grade, no professor is going to help you if you haven't attended their lectures.
  • Invest in a water bottle: Nothing is worse than sitting in a lecture dying of thirst.
  • Invest in a messenger bag, tote bag, or backpack: You don't have a locker in college and chances are your dorm will be far away from your classes. Make sure you have something to carry anything you'll need, from books, to pens and pencils, to a laptop, or even snacks like granola bars.
  • Take notes: Do it. Your professor knows more than you, that's why they are at the front of the room. Listen to them, and write down what they say. Then study it. This is how you learn.
  • Utilize the library: Other than during finals week, the library is pretty much a guaranteed quiet place to study. Additionally, college libraries have databases for research papers, printing services, and a whole lot more for students.
  • Eat alone if you want/have to: No one will judge you. I promise.
  • Annotate your books: Especially if you are an English/literature major! It is a lot easier to simply take all of your notes in the novel than to copy down page numbers and quotes into a notebook. Textbooks (like science ones) can be annotated too!
  • Don't let anyone shame you about your major: Each major is difficult in its own way. Don't let anyone make you feel like you're taking an "easy" major or that they are more intelligent than you because they are in a "hard" major. STEM majors are not better than Liberal Arts majors, and Liberal Arts majors are not better than STEM majors. Ignore anyone who says otherwise. Ignore anyone who says your major is pointless. This does not only apply to fellow students, but family, friends, and the world in general.
  • Prepare for advising periods: Class offerings are usually posted before registration is open. Take an hour to become familiar with the requirements of your department and the individual college it is in (if applicable), as well as University/institutional requirements (IE at UMass, my "college" is the College of Social and Behavioral Sciences, while my department is Anthropology. The university itself, SBS, and Anthro all have different specific requirements I must meet to graduate) and make a list of classes you would like to take that satisfy these requirements. Advisors will appreciate it.
  • Take advantage of campus resources: Many colleges and universities have numerous extremely helpful resources, such as employment services which will help with resumes, or counselors for when you're having a hard time. Use these. They are there for you.
  • Keep yourself organized: Notebooks, highlighters, a planner, flashcards, an expandable file, binders, folders, literally whatever you need to keep track of all your papers, assignments, due dates, and what you need to help you study is important for you to have. If you don't know what helps you study or what keeps you organized, try some different systems or do some research.
  • Keep your syllabi: Every semester I buy a different notebook for each class I am taking, and I always keep my syllabus folded in half in the back of each notebook. It has saved my ass numerous times.
  • Check your email or the course website before class: Nothing sucks more than being the only kid who didn't know class was cancelled, especially if you're a commuter and you drove in/took the bus to a class that isn't happening.
  • Give yourself plenty of time: Whether its getting to class, doing homework, or writing a paper, make sure you give yourself enough time. This is especially important for commuters. I can promise you that you will need more time to drive to class than you think. I live less than 40 minutes away from UMass and I still leave 75-90 minutes before class starts.
  • Understand your learning style: Do flashcards work best? What about mindmaps? Answering questions at the end of the chapter? Understand what allows things to sink into your mind the best, and utilize that method of learning.
  • Honestly, you can get by with SparkNotes: I was an English major. We had to read, a lot and I didn't always read the novels. I used SparkNotes and skimmed chapters. While I wouldn't recommend relying on this entirely to graduate, it can help in a pinch.
  • Skipping class: I know I just told you to go, and I do mean that. But sometimes you need to skip class and be lazy or frivolous, and that's fine. Don't make it a habit. I usually allow myself 1-2 "mental health" days per semester. HOWEVER you should be VERY clear on the absence policy of your professors. Some don't take attendance, and others will kick you out if you miss 3 classes. It's always in the syllabus.
  • It's okay to withdraw from a class: Getting a W is better than getting an F. If a class is too much for you, then it's best to step out of it. Most professors will understand, and most grad schools and jobs will too.
  • Be kind to yourself: It's easy to only value yourself through school, as in what grade you got on a test, or how your GPA stacks up against others but we are all human and sometimes we fuck up and sometimes we do poorly and thats alright. Learn from it and move on.
  • Take care of yourself: !!!!! This is very important. Eat as well as you can/enough, sleep enough, don't become addicted to or dependent on drugs/alcohol, exercise (even if its just walking to class), take showers, etc. Sometimes taking care of yourself takes a back seat to taking care of your grades OR to having too much fun, and neither is a good strategy. Yes, college is a time to assert your independence and have fun and party, but if you do too much it will begin to affect your grades and your health.
  • Try to get internships or research assistantships/independent studies: These will look great on your resume and a lot of them are quite interesting/enjoyable. It shows initiative, drive, and motivation! Professors usually have independent studies and career/employment services (if your campus has that) can help with internship placement.
  • These are basic things that I have learned during my college career. I'm sure I could come up with more, but I hope this is helpful!
Writing a Novel: Being Unafraid of Failure

Part of the writing process is definitely about having the courage to sit down and write 200+ pages of a novel, but more than that, it’s more recognizably about being unafraid to write something that could potentially be horrible. It’s something that most of us don’t talk about but it’s all somewhere in the back of our minds, “Maybe my book is unreadable.”

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All The Time In The World

[One shot - request]

Summary: Olivia is the one in charge of Negan once he’s in jail, but what happens when you’re given the chance to come face to face with the man?

Note: This one shot was requested by the lovely @oceaninwinter

-

“I really don’t wanna go down there.” Olivia said, shaking her head as she held onto the bucket of hot water.

“Then why do you do it?” You said confused as you looked back at her. You could see just how much she hated her job of having to take care of Negan.

“It’s just the job Rick gave to me, and I thought I could handle it.” She said, walking hesitantly to the basement door of the abandoned building you were currently in.

“Don’t. I’ll go.” You said with a shrug, “It can’t be that hard.”

You hadn’t been with the group long, you weren’t around for this whole “war” that they often talked about, which led to the way they were living their lives now. You always heard about the man they called Negan, but had never met him, but from the things that you had heard - all the stories - he was someone that everyone once feared, and for good reason. If half of what you heard was true, then he was terrifying. It made you nervous to even offer to trade jobs with her, but you saw how much she truly despised it, and figured that it would be easier on you than her. Your job was to stay upstairs and keep an eye out for anything suspicious, and having full permission from Rick to take Negan out if he tried to escape.

“No, (Y/N). I really shouldn’t, I don’t know how Rick would feel about it.” She answered. She was saying no, but you could see in her eyes that she wanted to say yes to it. It wouldn’t take much more pushing of the question to get her to agree.

You crossed you arms, “Rick doesn’t have to know, okay? We won’t tell him.”

“Negan would tell him.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Why would he do that?” You were genuinely confused now.

“That statement alone let’s me know that you don’t need to do this, (Y/N). He can’t be trusted, you don’t know him like the rest of us.” She warned.

You were beginning to grow just a little annoyed. You were offering her a chance to get out of it, and she seemed to come up with every excuse to say no.

You sighed and took a step closer to her, “I’ll ask him not to tell Rick, okay? And even if he tells him, so what? We’ll tell Rick you don’t wanna do this anymore. You can sit up here and keep a lookout while I deal with him.”

She pressed her lips together with a worried expression on her face, thinking it over until finally have you a reluctant nod, “Okay, okay.. I’ll let you do it.”

“Alright.” You said, your face was a blank expression, but inside you were nervous and intrigued all at once, you were finally gonna meet the man everyone has been afraid of.

She handed over the bucket of water to you, “You take this, and let him clean up.” She trailed off as she reached into her pocket to pull out a small leather pouch, “You’ll need this too if he wants to shave.. I’m assuming you know how to use one of these?” She said as she pulled a flap back on the pouch to reveal a straight razor.

You nodded, “It can’t be that hard, I just know I’d have to be extra careful.. I’m shaving him?” You said with a confused expression.

“Yes, you do. We never let him do it himself. You should also make sure that he keeps his distance.” She said, giving you a concerned look.

“You’re talking like he’s psychotic, or something, Olivia.” Your forehead creased.

“I don’t say it lightly, (Y/N). Keep your guard up at all times.. Here, you’ll need this, too, obviously.” She said as she reaching into her pocket, pulling out a small shiny object - it was the key to Negan’s cell.

You nodded again and stuffed the leather pouch into your pocket, taking the key from her, “I will.” You turned the knob of the basement door slowly, the creaking of it disturbing the silence, the draft of cold, damp air hitting you. You gave Olivia one more glance before you turned to walk down the rickety wooden steps as she shut the door behind you tightly. You had to admit you were a bundle of nerves going down there, you were shaking and it wasn’t from the cool air of the drafty basement. When you got to the bottom step, you took a moment to collect yourself, taking in a deep breathe. You could see the makeshift cell that has been welded against the wall. You glanced nervously into the darkened cell, just barely being able to make out a silhouette of the man named Negan.
You jumped suddenly when a voice sounded from the other side of the bars.

“Y'know I started to fuckin’ ask when Olivia had such a dramatic goddamn weight loss.” A deep voice said in a cheeky tone.

You approached the bars cautiously, setting down the bucket, “I’m not Olivia.”

“Yeah, I kinda fuckin’ figured that out on my own.” He said matter-of-factly. You could hear scraping on the concrete floor as his silhouette became bigger, he must have been sitting on the floor. You were finally granted your first glimpse of the man as he approached the bars, feeding his arms through them. You weren’t disappointed with the sight, he was tall, and more handsome than you had expected him to be. He was sporting a full beard, but his hair was short and slicked back against his skull, compared to his beard it must have been cut recently. You looked down at your feet for a moment, not being able to keep contact with his dark, intimidating eyes for very long.

“Where the fuck is my dear, Olivia? Not that I’m complaining, this is a nice fuckin’ change of scenery.” He said slowly, you looked back to see his tongue darting from between his lips. You could feel his eyes on your body, and suddenly you lost your voice.

“You’re not gonna fuckin’ ignore me now, are you?” He spoke sternly, regaining your attention.

You shook your head quickly, “No sir- I mean, Negan. She’s- she’s upstairs. I traded with her.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Sir? That’s fuckin’ sweet of you. What’s your name, darlin’?”

Your mouth relaxed into a thin line, “(Y/N)”

He gave you a dangerous, yet charming smirk, “That is a beautiful name.”

You bit your lip, trying not to let a smile break through, “Thank you.” You fiddled with your fingers absentmindedly as the silence filled the air again.

Negan leaned against the bars, “You seem pretty fuckin’ nervous.”

“Well, you are pretty infamous around here.” You admitted.

Negan chuckled, letting his teeth scrape over his bottom lip, “Yeah? According to fuckin’ who - Rick?”

You nodded slowly, “Him and the others. I’ve heard things.”

“You don’t look too fuckin’ familiar to me. I’m guessing you’re new?” He smirked cockily.

You were still nervous, but there was something about him that made you relax just a bit, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing that had a chance of getting you into some deep shit.

“I am. I wasn’t around for the war that everyone talks about. I’ve been here for about 3 months, give or take a few weeks.”

His lips parted as he gave you a coy grin, “I’ve been stuck behind these fuckin’ bars for almost a year now. After hearing the stories, you didn’t even fuckin’ bother to pay a visit to the resident jail bird, darlin’?”

You gave him a weak smile and shrugged, “Well I imagine you wouldn’t want people to come down here to gawk at you like a caged animal, and frankly, I was scared.”

“But I am a fuckin’ animal, sweetheart.” He said confidently, his white teeth peekimg through his lips.

He has a dark look in his eyes, that was almost.. Seductive.. The way his eyes trailed over you as he said it made you realize that he was hinting that he was an animal not just for his crimes, but for a more primal reason. A sudden, familiar heat rose up inside of you, a heat you hadn’t felt In a long time, and one that you so often ached to feel again. It was startling, you bit down on your lip hard, almost certain you had broken the skin. Negan making you feel this way - especially so soon - was wrong, it made you uncomfortable and excited all at once. You did your best to keep your composure as you felt the dampness between your legs increasing. You had to avert your eyes away from him again, his stare was so intense. You were sure he’d see right through you, and if he did, he spared you the embarrassment of letting it be known.

“Sweetheart, are you gonna give me my bucket of water any fuckin’ time soon? I’d like to use it before it gets cold.” He said, parting his hands as he leaned his head against a cell bar.

You closed your eyes, exhaling a shaky breath and dipped your hand into your pocket to pull the key out, “Yes, I’m sorry.” You approached his cell door, glancing at him timidly as you reached out to shove the key into the lock, turning it until there was a click. You pulled the door slowly, your hands gripping so tightly around one of the bars that your knuckles were turning white for fear he was going to dart from behind the bars. You held your breathe as he pulled his arms back through the bars and sauntered over to the door. He towered over you, forcing you to look up to meet his gaze and up close it was even more intimidating and.. Sexy. If he took it upon himself to try to escape there’s no way in hell you could have stopped him. He gave you a sly smirk as he bent down to grab the bucket and take it back into his cell, and it took everything in you to keep you from melting then and there. There was something about that man that was absolutely intoxicating. You weren’t the kind of woman to swoon for a man who gave you just the least bit of attention, but even you couldn’t deny the charm that radiated off of him.

You backed away from the cell, leaving the door ajar. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do next, you felt your cheeks flush red again as you glanced over to see the white t-shirt he was wearing being pulled from his body. He was toned and had a few stray tattoos here and there, most notably being the cross on his left arm. If the top half looked this good, what else did he have hidden away under his clothes? You brushed the thought away, scolding yourself internally for thinking such a thing.

You could feel your palms getting clammy, “I should give you some privacy.”

He snorted and dipped a rag into the bucket, “Don’t fuckin’ get shy on my account, darlin’. Sweet thing usually fuckin’ sits over there and reads until I’m done.” He said gesturing to a chair in the corner of the room.

“Oh.. Right.” You said bashfully as you turned quickly, heading for the chair before he could take anymore clothes off. You sat down, keeping your eyes at your feet, trying to hold back your temptation to sneak a peek at this man. You tapped your foot lightly on the ground, you could hear the unzipping of his pants now and your eyes scanned along the floor momentarily, but they snapped back to your feet once his voice sounded again.

“How do you fuckin’ like it around here?” He said, sloshing water around in the bucket.

You gave a shrug, assuming that he was looking at you, “It’s nice. It’s sort of boring, but with the way stuff is now, I guess I should be thankful for a boring life.”

You heard him chuckle, “You don’t strike me as a boring girl, darlin’. You look like your prone to getting into some shit.”

You smirked, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that. A few moments passed, the silence fell over the room again, the only sound to be heard was the sound of water. Your temptation was beginning to override you and your curiosity had taken over you, your eyes trailed along the floor again. Fuck it. You eyes quickly darted forward, making contact with his bare body, and the sight was not disappointing either. Your eyes widened at the sight, your legs clenched involuntarily as felt the dampness between to legs beck not noticeable than before. This man was supposed to be so terrible and evil, but here you were lusting after him after you just met.

“It you want a better fuckin’ look at my dick, just say so, sweetheart.” His deep time called, breaking your concentration on his body.

You had a look of guilt on your face as you met his eyes in embarasment. He stood there, smirking as he dropped the rag back into the bucket.

You closed your eye tightly, shaking your head, “I- I’m sorry.” You opened one eye back up slowly.

He bit his lip, “It doesn’t fuckin’ bother me, darlin’. Don’t get much fuckin’ action from women these days, and try as I fuckin’ might, your other half up there won’t give me the time of fuckin’ day.. Is she a goddamn carpet muncher or something?” He said as he pulled his pants back on.

You chewed your lip “No, I don’t think so..”

He sniffed and gave you a shrug as he walked out of his cell, setting the bucket outside, his shirtless chest still glistening from the water running down it, “Could’ve fooled me. Shit, I’ve been trying to get her for months - and nothing - not even a sad eyecontactless handjob.”

Your lips parted slightly as your hand clamped over your face, trying to stifle back laughter.

He sucked his teeth as he walked forward, “Is it that amusing, babydoll?”

You shook your head, “I’m sorry. After all the things I’ve heard.. I never expected you to be funny.”

He shrugged and gave you a smile, “It wasn’t a joke, but what-the-fuck-ever. Do you have the razor, darlin’. I’d like to get this goddamn bush off my face.” He said run in his hand through his beard.

You gave a nod as you stood up, “I do.” You pulled the chair to the middle of the room to let him sit in it. He watched you intently as you pulled the leather pouch from your pants pocket to take the razor out.

“I’m not gonna lie, I don’t really know what I’m doing with this.” You confessed, your eyebrows knitting together.

He intertwined his hands behind his head as he leaned back in the chair “Just try not to slit my fuckin’ throat, darlin’. You’re gonna need to sharpen it first of all.”

“How?”

He closed his eyes with a smirk, “See this belt looking shit right here?” He said reaching around the back of the chair to pull on what looked like a strip of leather, “You sharpen it with this.”

“Okay, then I definitely don’t know what I’m doing.” You huffed, running a hand over your face.

“Here, give it to me.” He said reaching out for it.

You backed up quickly, pulling the arm that held it behind you. Giving him a hostile look. Did he think you were that stupid?

He gave you a call smile and blinked, “I’m serious. Look, if I wanted to fuckin’ escape, I wouldn’t need a dull fuckin’ straight razor to do it, babydoll.” He said leaning forward, his tone was serious, not the joking-nonchalant one he had been using the majority of the time.

You knew it was probably a terrible idea, and your mind was screaming at you not to do it, but you couldn’t help but believe him, and his natural charm wasn’t any help in keeping you cautious of him for very long. You let out a breathe and took a slow step towards him, reaching out to give it to him. You felt the chills run down your body when his hand made contact with yours, his fingers lingering over your skin longer than they should have before he pulled back, taking the one object he shouldn’t have been allowed do have in his hand. You had to let your mind adjust to the situation, you could only imagine Olivia’s face if she she saw this shit. You took a step back as you carefully watched the razor in his grasp as he stepped to the back of the chair, pulling the leather strap tightly to run the blade of the razor back and forth across it. This was a dangerous situation, and you knew it, but it seemed to excite you further at the same time. You could see the muscles in his bare arm flexing each time he moved. Your teeth found your bottom lip again, giving it a generous tug as you watched him. It was so easy to go into a trance-like state while you watched him, any movement he made being done with fluidity and ease, only making you all the more intrigued by him. You listened to the scraping of the blade against the leather, it was somewhat soothing as it eased the tense air of the room. You were snapped out of your transfixed state when when the scraping stopped. You swallowed, there was a lump im your throat when he turned back towards you, the sharpened razor still in his hand. You exhaled shakily.. Was this it? Was he gonna slit your throat and escape? So many thoughts were running through you as he stepped towards you, your body tensing, preparing for whatever he was going to do next. But you relaxed just as fast as you had been bracing yourself for something terrible.

He folded the razor back into itself, extending his arm to hand it over to you, “Might wanna be extra fuckin’ careful, sugar. It’s sharp as shit, and I’m not in the mood to get my throat slit today.”

You took it from his hand, giving him an obedient nod, surprised that he even gave it back to you at all, “I handn’t planned on it.” You smirked.

He finally sat back down, giving you some peace of mind when he did so. You walked around the the back of the chair to a small table that sat beside the wall. It was obviously Olivia’s setup for when she had the job of shaving him. You grabbed a can of shaving cream that sat on it and a clean rag before walking back over to him. His hands were back behind his head again, and his legs were kicked out as if he didn’t have a care in the world. You had to admit, you sort of admired that about him. He truly didn’t give a shit.

You held the can out to him, “I’m sure this part you can manage yourself, right?” You said teasingly.

He gave you a challenging expression and reached out to take the can from you, “You’ve sorta got a fuckin’ attitude on you, don’t you?”

“No more than you seem to have.” You brushed some hair behind your ear, giving a small smile as he began to cover his beard with shaving cream, “Females with an attitude intimidate you, or something?”

He ran his hand over his beard, his eyes shifting to you, giving you an almost dangerous look, and you decided at that moment maybe you should choose your words more carefully, he was still some who was unpredictable in his actions. His eyes narrowed as they continued to burn into yours as he handed the can back to you.

“No. I’ve always had a fuckin’ thing for the ones with an attitude.. They were always more fun to break.” He said, clearing his throat.

You turned quickly to bring the can back to the table, happy to get away from his gaze for another moment, mainly because you didn’t want him to see you blushing, yet again. It was beginning to get ridiculous. You took in a breath and walked back in from of him, opening up the razor slowly as you stood beside him, your nervousness growing again once you realized you were going to get extra up close and personal with him. You knew it wasn’t that you were were fearful of him harming you, it was for the fact that it would be would no secret to him now that you were weakened by his charming nature.

You stood there for a moment, overlooking his features before you finally reached out, placing your free hand on his head. He complied easily enough, tilting his head to the side as your brought down the razor, being careful not to cut him as you slid it down his cheek, listening to the scraping of it against his skin. He often shifted his eyes, looking at you out the corner of them. Once the first stroke was done, you were a little more confident in what you were doing.

“Shit, that was easy enough, huh?” He said as you wiped the razor on the rag, before bringing it back up to his skin again.

“Yeah, you’re still alive. I’d say I’m not doing too bad.” You smirked.

“Tell me something about your fuckin’ self, darlin’. You got yourself a man.. Or a fuckin’ woman? Can’t imagine something as pretty as you is single.” He said shifted his eyes over to you once, again giving you another sly grin.

You shook your head slowly, trying to keep your concentration as the razor glided across his skin again, “No. I was with someone, but that was a very long time ago.”

Negan hummed softly, giving you that dangerous look again. It had become apparent now that, that look made you susceptible to becoming very hot and bothered. The thought of throwing your leg over him and taking a seat brushed across your mind, you wondered how he would react. You bit the inside of your cheek roughly for letting these intruding thoughts keep popping into your mind. You finally finished with one side of his face, you looked down at his legs that were splayed out, blocking you.

You looked at him timidly, “Could you uh- your legs.”

“Sure fuckin’ thing, sweetheart.” He said clearing his throat as he sat up straight in the chair.

You moved in front of him, noting mentally that you were in the perfect position to straddle him for real now. You closed your eyes briefly. These thoughts didn’t seem like they were ever gonna stop, and you weren’t sure that you really wanted them to. You leaned forward, your hands sliding into his hair again, the sound of the razor over his skin filling the room. You followed his gaze and he made no effort to hide the fact that his eyes were locked onto your cleavage, his teeth brushing over his bottom lip. As if you weren’t hot enough over him already, the sight of lust in his eyes as he stared at your full breasts through the thin shirt you were wearing surely did it for you. You gave a small, mischievous smirk to yourself and leaned down a little further, making it seem like you wanted to be extra precise in shaving him, but in reality, you were teasing him, but of course he knew it. He raised his eyes up to you, meeting yours again. It was a dark, hungered look in his eyes and you could see his jaw flaring as he clenched his teeth tightly. You had to look away from him again, it was more intense than any stare he had given you yet, and you could feel your core clenching around nothing as your arousal began to meet it’s peak. At this point, you weren’t sure who was driving who crazy. The sexual tension in the room was no secret. It was a heavy, aching feeling.

As you got to the last bit of hair, you tried to shave it quickly. As you stood over him, your breast still in his face, you could feel the warmth of his fingertips as they brushed lightly over your legs. You swallowed hard as they rested lightly on the outside of your jeans. He was testing you to see how far you’d let him go, and at this point you were a practically a puddle beneath him, willing to let him do whatever he wanted, but trying - and failing - to keep that a secret. Once you finally finished, you backed up slowly from him, folding the razor back down and walked over to the table to set it down, grabbing another clean rag to hand to him.
He took it and wipe off the remnants of the shaving cream.

“You’re all done.” You said, exhaling, “Is that all you needed?”

He finished wiping his face and tossed the rag back onto the table before looking at you again, “That’s not all I fuckin’ need, darlin’.”

You were both locked in a staring competition now. Neither of you looked away, and you getting up the courage to not shy away from him this time as the sexual tension in the room seemed to boil over. You inhaled deeply, unwavering as you took one step towards him.

“What is it?” You said. You stood firm, but your voice was shaking.

He reached out again, letting a hand wrap around your thigh this time, running to your back, and down to grab your ass. A silent sign escaping your lips. Every nerve in your body seemed like it was on fire, and once Negan sensed that you were just as starved for some contact as he was. He wasted no time in yanking you down to him. You gasped quickly as the sudden jerk of your body as he brought you down to his lips, kissing you hungrily as his tongue darted between your lips. You held onto the back of the chair, finally getting to fulfill your though of straddling him as you threw one leg over him, settling down into his lap. You could feel how hard he was as his cock pressed against your already soaked slit through your jeans. You let out another sigh as his tongue continued to explore your mouth, both his hands now gripping your ass firmly. Your first instinct was to grind into him, and before you knew it, your hips were rolling against his doing your best to make contact with his member trying to relieve some of the ache you felt deep in your core. He seemed to take note of how desperate you were to feel something. He brushed his hands back over your thighs, unbuttoning your pants quickly. You gritted your teeth when a hand found it’s way inside, teasing your wetness with his fingers, your hips involuntarily bucking into his hand, causing a finger to slide inside of you, making you moan. He brought a free hand up to wrap around your neck. You could see the pure lust on his face as he watched you ride his fingers.

“Shit, I missed that goddamn feeling.” He growled seductively, he buried his face into your chest, biting and pulling at your shirt with his teeth, moving up to your neck to suck at the delicate skin. You knew him leaving marks would be a bad idea, but at the moment you didn’t care and you wanted him to mark you everywhere. Your hands fiddled with the button on his pants, finally getting them open as you reached into his jeans to stroke his hard cock. He grunted eagerly as he let the hand on your neck slide down to your breasts, squeezing them through the fabric of your shirt.

“Get this shit off, baby.” He ordered, tugging at your shirt roughly.

You complied immediately, lifting it over your head to throw it to the floor. He brought his hands around you, unhooking your bra with little effort, letting it fall from your body as he stuck his head into your breasts, grasping at them with his free hand, biting and sucking at your nipples as you continued to ride his fingers. By this point, his fingers were coated in your juices, he thumbed at your clit roughly.
You let your hand work up and down the shaft of his cock, moaning softly each time his fingers sunk deeper inside of you with each strike you made, but you wanted him inside of you, you wanted him to fuck you mercilessly while you writhed beneath him. Your free hand tangled in his hair as his face was still buried firmly in your breasts, your hips rocking vigorously on his fingers. He finally lifted his head back up, kissing you roughly, biting your bottom lip.

“You ever fucked in a jail cell before?” He purred seductively in your ear.

He said it as if it was a question, but you both knew it wasn’t. He was telling you what he was going to do to you, and you were more than willing to let him have his way.

“There’s a first time for everything.” You breathed back as he pulled his fingers from you, leaving you aching even more than you were and whimpering for his touch again as he left you with an empty feeling.

You released his cock, wrapping you arms around his neck as his strong arms held you close to him as he stood up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you back to his cell. It was dimly lit inside of it, you didn’t even notice the cot that sat against the wall until he threw you onto it. You pulled yourself up as he stood in for of you, sliding his pants down to his hips, just enough to release his cock. You licked your lips as you watched him, finally getting a good view of just how big he was. Your hands trailed down to the front of your jeans, teasing your sensitive slit through them.

“Get on your knees.” He growled, walking forward to wrap your hair around his fist, you sighed as you propped yourself onto your knees, preparing yourself for what was next. With his fist in your hair he guided you towards him, your mouth opening for him as his cock slipped inside. You could taste the precome that had beaded on the head of his member, dragging your tongue over the tip, lapping it up immediately. He groaned, tilting his head down as his grip tightened on you, you let your lips wrap tightly around his shaft as your head bobbed up and down on him, taking in as much of his cock as you could until you could feel yourself on the verge of gagging, but you wanted to impress him, so you pushed the thought away as you shoved your own head down on his cock even further. response, he let out a moan, bucking his hips into your mouth, you could feel his cock in the back of your throat now, and you were surprised at the amount of control he had. For someone who hadn’t been with an actual woman in a while, you expected him to fuck your throat until it was raw - something you weren’t completely opposed to.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’.” He groaned, forcing his hips against your mouth, causing you to cough, but you didn’t stop sucking him, you let your tongue work up and down his length each time you bobbed your head up and down, doing your best to drive him crazy. You brought your hand up, swirling your tongue around his head, popping it in and out of your mouth lazily, letting your hand pump him, causing more precome to bead out of him. He let out a throaty grunt and pushed you off of him.

You smiled, biting your lip as he looked down at you, his eyes narrowed in a seductive expression as he leaned down, curling his fingers over the top of your jeans, ripping them off of you. You breathed heavily as he did so, not sure how much longer your could hold out. He pushed you back further on the bed as he grasped your legs, raising them to his shoulders as he nestled himself between your legs, kissing and biting hard at your thighs, making you yelp at the feeling, pain mixed with pleasure. You knew it was going to leave bruising tomorrow. He licked your slit through your panties, he was already getting to taste you as your had completely soaked through them, thanks to how turned on he had gotten you before sex was even thought of between the two of you. You laid your head back on the cot, reveling in the feeling of having someone’s tongue on you in such an intimate way again. You had almost forgotten how it felt, and when Negan did it, it felt even better than you had ever remembered it feeling. He brought his finger up to play with your clit through your panties, making you suck in sharp breathes, you were close to begging him. He pulled them to the side, dragging his finger up and down your folds, letting them slide in and out of you, creating a wet sound. Your back arched, his tongue pressed firmly again your clit as he lapped up your juices, his fingers thrusting in and out of you.

“Oh my God.” You moaned as you felt his tongue slide into you. You pulled his hair roughly, strands of it wrapped around your fingers.

“Is that what you fuckin’ like, baby?” He said, biting your wet lips.

“Yes.” You whimpered, you had bent completely to his will and were a mess beneath him, and craving his cock inside of you.

You pulled up on his hair, silently letting him know to come back up to you, “I want you, Negan.”

He leaned forward, kissing and biting his way back up your body, you gripped the sheets, loving the way your skin felt between his teeth. Your legs wrapped around him tightly once his face met yours, yours lips crashing into each other as he grinded against you. You could feel his throbbing cock teasing your aching pussy as he slipped the head in briefly, pulling back out. You whined in protest, bringing your hands back up to dig your nails into his skin, he let out a growl, wrapping his hands around your neck.

“You want this fuckin’ cock, babydoll?” He purred into your ear, nipping at your neck as he drug his teeth across your skin.

“Yes.. Please!” You answered back, letting your legs tighten around him even more.

He gave you a devilish smile as he pushed himself into you, letting all of his length slide into you at once, you lifted your hips up to his, feeling so much pleasure as he filled you up completely. You laid your head back, breathing deeply as he started with a few slow pumps into you, your walls already clenching themselves around his cock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a pussy this goddamn tight, darlin’.” He growled, bucking his hips against you, forcing himself deeper in, causing to to cry out. Your nails sinking further into his skin. He was going to have a few marks of his own after you were finished. He squeezed your neck, creating a delightful sensation as he started to grind himself in and out of you vigorously, the sound of wet skin smacking against each other accompanied with your moans. You bit down on your lip quickly, remembering Olivia upstairs.

“She’s gonna hear us.” You squeaked as he continued ramming himself into you, grunting into your ear.

“You’re just gonna have to be fuckin’ quiet, baby.” He said seductively, putting his other hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

He slammed his hips into you violently, making you cry out, your voice soften by the cover of his hand as his cock hit the back of your walls. He kept it up for a while, your legs seeming to wrap around him tighter with each thrust, his cock now completely slick with your wetness as he slide in and out with ease. You were glad that his hand was covering your mouth, your moans became louder and more frequent as he had his way with you. You finally released the grip you had on him, a thought coming to your mind.

“Take me from behind. Fuck me hard.” You begged him, turning your body slightly.

He widened his eyes, smiling and he bit your lip, “Turn the fuck over, sweetheart.”

You gave him a nod, turning yourself over on the cot as you bent yourself down as far as you could, sticking your backside into the air for him. You felt a hard slap on your ass, forcing you to jerk away from him, but also wanting him to keep it up. He placed his hands on your ass, pulling you back against him as he slid into you with ease again, he gave your ass another had slap, making you moan again. You clamped a hand over your mouth, realizing the moan was louder than it should have been. He brought his hand down as he thrust into you, holding your own hand against your mouth.

“Easy, babydoll. You don’t wanna get us fuckin’ caught do you?” He smirked, slamming his hips into you again. The pleasure overtaking you, causing you to collapse into the cot as you shook your head.

You finally lifted your head back up, wanting to take some control of your own as you pushed yourself back into him, causing him to slip out of you. You turned around to face him as he stood there, looking at you confused for a moment. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I wanna ride you.” You said bluntly, clenching your legs together as you were still feeling aftershocks of pleasure.

“Goddamn, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you, darlin’?” He smirked as he sat down, leaning back into the wall, stroking himself as you crawled to him, throwing your legs at his side as you lowered yourself down onto his cock. You gritted your teeth, making sure to keep your voice down as much as you could. You rocked your hips against his, just like you had done on the chair. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you, only making you more eager to ride him. His hands cupped around your breasts, giving them a generous squeeze as he brought his mouth down to let his tongue swirl around your nipples. You buried your face in his neck to dull your moans. He smelled amazing and you kissed his neck, sucking the skin as he tugged at your nipple with his teeth. You bucked your hips hard against him. He moved his hands down to your hips to guide your rhythm how he wanted, still managing to maintain control even with you on top. You were starting to come to your peak, you could feel the build up of the orgasm and you already knew that it was going to be intense. You continued to thrust your hips against his, his cock slid in and out of you. You slammed yourself down onto it, causing a loud grunt to escape Negan’s lips as he clenched his jaw, giving you a dangerous stare. He continued to slam you down into his hips, only bringing you closer and closer to the edge until you were spilling over it.

“Shit, I gonna come!” You cried as you felt your walls grip around him even tighter than they had before, you could feel how wet you were making his dick as you climaxed. You buried your head further into his neck as you couldn’t help but scream, luckily it was muffled against his skin.

“That’s it, darlin’, fuckin’ come for me.” He groaned as you continued to ride him throughout your orgasm, desperately wanting him to finish with you. His grunts were becoming louder as he went into an animalistic state, forcing you down as hard as he could onto his cock.

“Motherfucker.” He growled, his fingers gripping around your waist tightly. You breathed heavily as you kept up your pace, but knowing you were already spent.

“Negan.” You moaned back in his ear.

He bucked his hips against yours for a few more times and you knew he was close. He kissed you hard on the mouth, his tongue forcing it’s way in.

He gave one last groan before he pulled you up roughly off of him, “Fuck, darlin’.” He threw you down onto the cot, quickly lifted himself above you as he stroked his cock a few times before you felt the warmth of the spurts as he came on your chest and abdomen, stroking himself dry. You let out a breath as a leaned down to you, both arms outstretched to hold his weight above you as he kissed you roughly once more. You both took a minute to catch your breathe and gather your thoughts. That had really just happened, and you were more satisfied than you had been in a long time. Negan lifted himself up off the cot as he pulled his pants back up. You sat up slowly on the edge of the cot, looking around for something to clean yourself up with, and before you could get up, he was handing you a rag and your clothes.

You scoffed as you took them, “Trying to get rid of me that quick?”

He rolled his eyes, “Fuck no, darlin’. I’d let you fuckin’ stay, but our dear Olivia is probably getting fuckin’ suspicious.”

You sighed as you wiped off your body, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” After you were cleaned up, you put your clothes on quickly as you got up to gather your things. Negan leaned against the bars of the cell, a satisfied grin on his face.

“Please fuckin’ tell me I’m gonna see if if you again, darlin’.” He said, sticking his arms through the bars again.

You looks back at him and smiled as you stuffed the razor back into your pocket and picked up the bucket of now cold water, “I have a feeling that I’ll be trading jobs with Olivia. If she’s not gonna reap the benefits of it, then I will.” You bit your lip as you closed the door to the cell, turning the key to lock it and stuffed the key back down into your pocket quickly, “It’s just a damn shame I have to lock you back up.”

“They couldn’t fuckin’ handle it if I was on the loose, baby.” He said, giving you a wicked smirk.

You blushed, looking at the ground momentarily, before you gave him a flirty look, “You really are an animal, Negan.”

“I’m a man of my fuckin’ word.” He shrugged, giving you an ‘I told you so’ look.

You nodded, “Well, as a man of your word, how about don’t mention to Rick I was down here when you see him? He’d probably put me off the job.”

He inhaled and ran his tongue over his lips, “Usually I’d fuckin’ say no. I get real fuckin’ pleasure from making Rick’s life difficult, but for that amazing pussy you just gave me - that I definitely want again - my lips are sealed, darlin’.”

“Good.” You smiled. You started to walk forward, but his outstretched arm caught you quickly. You looked over at him, “What?”

“You forgetting something?” He smiled as he pulled you to him to kiss you hard one last time through the bars. He pulled back to look down at you, “By the way, I’m fuckin’ keeping these.” He said as he reached down into his pocket, pulling his arm back up to show you your balled up panties in his hand.

You giggled, your face turning red, “They’re all yours, Negan. Keep it as a souvenir.”

“I’m thinking you fuckin’ sneak down here tomorrow, babydoll.”

You looked up at him one more time, a mischievous look on your face, “I had planned on it.”

He gave you an approving nod as you both kissed once more. He reluctantly let you go, and watched you walk back up that rickety staircase until you were completely out of his sight.

crossing the line || preview

pairing: taehyung x reader
genre: teacher!au, smut
word count: 906

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for whatever it was you were getting yourself into as you entered the school theatre. You saw the class performing on stage before you noticed your drama teacher, Mr. Kim sitting in the middle row of chairs, casually minding his own business and taking notes.

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, quietly walking towards him and blocking the light coming from the stage as you stood in front of him. He stopped writing in his notepad, glancing up at you before he spoke, “Miss Y/L/N?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing. 

You offered him a small nod of your head, “Can I sit down?” you quipped, using your best ‘sweet’ voice, “I need to talk to you.”

He swallowed a little, his mouth falling open as he devoured his eyes upon the exposed skin of your legs, your thigh-highs and your see-through dress shirt. He lightly bit his lip as he saw your red, lacy bra through your shirt, cupping your breasts just right and pushing them up in a way that made his mouth water.

You smirked as you squeezed by, seeing his cheeks flush a little and his eyes finally stop undressing you. You locked eyes with him as he scooted up in his seat, leaving you some room to pass him so that you could sit in the chair right next to his.

Just as you sat down, he cleared his throat, glancing back down at his notepad and what he was writing, “There’s really nothing to talk about,” he began, nibbling on his bottom lip as he continued writing. “I already dropped you from the class.”

You saw it coming, knowing the rules and knowing that more than five absences would lead to classes automatically being dropped – and you have been gone for over a week, almost two. 

“Mr. Kim, please,” you almost begged, your voice trailing off in a whine, “I will have to take contemporary dance if I get dropped from this class.”

He merely shook his head, still not even glancing up at you. “You should’ve thought about that before,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, Miss Y/L/N, you know the rules.”

You huffed before your eyes lit up with mischief as you thought, here we go… Your plan wasn’t working and you had to speed things up. Fast. 

Without a second thought, you slowly slid your hand over to his thigh, making him stop writing immediately but he still didn’t look at you.

“I’ll do anything,” you spoke slowly as you began smoothing your hand even further up as you slightly leaned in, “If you let me back in.”

You felt the rush, knowing you had his attention at this point and knowing you had him right where you wanted him. Normally, you would’ve never even attempted to do something like this, but you frankly didn’t care. You didn’t have anything to lose and currently, you wanted to be Mr. Kim’s… well, anything. 

You didn’t really get a reaction from him until you palmed his half-hard cock, lightly stroking him through his pants, making him jolt instantly and push your hand away as he finally glanced up at you. “I – I have no idea what you’re trying to do young lady, but I think you’d better stop.” He stuttered, tightening his jaw as he tried his best to keep that strict demeanour.  

“Why? What’s the matter, Mr. Kim?” you questioned, a smirk etched on your face as he turned to face you. “Are you nervous?”

He breathed in deeply. “Listen, I am your teacher and–” he began, swallowing a little but you didn’t even let him finish as you cut in.

“So does that mean I’m back in the class?” you interjected playfully.

“No,” he instantly replied as he ran his hand along the side of his jaw.

You snorted, leaning back in your seat as you rolled your eyes, “Come on, I will do things for you that no other student has ever done before,” you whispered seductively as you bit your lip, pressing yourself against him so he could feel every line of you. “You want me to give you a little sneak peak?” you purred, your voice strangely sexy and endearing as you ran your soft hands up your own inner thighs slowly.

His eyes momentarily fluttered closed, his breath hitching in his throat before he finally let out another long breath and when he opened up his eyes, he was greeted by the sight of your short plaid skirt pulled all the way up and your small fingers pressing into your lacy thong.

His brown eyes widened as he breathed out a moan before briefly glancing up at the stage to make sure none of the students had caught on to the inappropriate scene unfolding in the middle row. “You are insane,” he muttered, his voice lowering into a growl as he stared hungrily down at you, licking his lips. He forced himself to look away from you as you kept pressing your fingers into your core, “Stop it. Are you trying to get me fired?” he muttered harshly, his voice barely there.

“You don’t really want me to stop, do you, sir?” you quipped, smirking as you flicked your panties to the side and offered him a little moan. Every nerve in your body were lit and buzzing with the desire coursing through you and merely being in this situation was beyond stimulating.  


a/n; ok so this is a super rough drabble but it has been sitting in my drafts for a long ass time 😩 pls look at it and let me know what u think! i might post a few parts or make a series out of this idk????

Shance Yoga Teacher au

Yes, friends, this au is 100% what you’re thinking. FLEXIBLE AF LANCE AND THIRSTY AF SHIRO

  • Starting with a bit of angst. Shiro is an ex marine (I will NEVER let go of this hc in my modern aus deal with it), who lost his hand (hand. not entire arm. just the hand) in battle. This au isn’t far in the future, so there are no fancy advanced prosthetics. The healing process was long and painful, not to mention extremely emotionally and mentally taxing.
  • Once he he’s actually healthy enough, both mentally and physically, to have enough energy for things other than treatment, the first thing he wants to do is to try and build more muscle mass, like he used to have. He liked being buff, and he still is, but less than he used to be. Both he and his therapist think it’ll be good for strengthening his positive body image, too.
  • Shiro asks his doctor (Allura) what form of exercise can she recommend at this stage, and she says Yoga. He’s skeptical at first, but what can he already lose if he goes to one session, right?
  • The hospital actually holds a class for patients, and Allura said the instructor is well experienced with amputees (amongst other conditions).
  • Shiro’s brain for the entire first minute upon meeting Lance: OH NO HE’S HOT THIS WAS A MISTAKE
  • No backing out tho he’s already been spotted and Lance is questioning him about his exact conditions so he can know best what he can safely instruct him to do and what he can’t.
  • Shiro’s brain continues to die the entire time, but he manages some answers anyway. Finally, Lance has enough, plus the rest of the group arrives and the session starts.
  • First, there’s breathing exercises. Easy enough, right?
  • WRONG
  • Lance tells them to close their eyes, but whenever Shiro does, he the only thing he has left to focus on is Lance’s voice (which is the point) and he gets super flustered because it’s so smooth? and pleasant? and kinda sexy?? and he can’t help but want that voice to whisper to him sensually and- NOPE, gotta open his eyes.
  • The rest of the class is a little harder, for two major reasons.
  • For once, the exercises are actually more demanding than he expected. He always thought he was pretty stretchy, but heavens, is a human body even supposed to bend this far?
  • Which brings us to the next difficulty. Lance’s body is more than capable of bending that far, and it’s driving him insane.
  • Despite how stressful it was trying not to stare at his ass too much and generally not turn into a tomato, the session was actually… really great. Shiro feels better when he walks out, more relaxed somehow, even though his heart still speeds up when he remembers Lance doing that one pose.
  • Lance asks him to hang back for a moment to talk to him and Shiro is all Oh No He Noticed Me Staring but nope. Lance just wanted to ask how he feels and if anything made his arm hurt really bad etc. He also excessively complimented his natural flexibility, saying he’ll be able to do “all sorts of things” soon enough. Shiro is really unsure, but it almost seems like Lance smirked while saying that? Nah, he must be just imagining things because of his developing crush.
  • The next few sessions aren’t very different. Supposedly, anyway. After basing his level and current capabilities, Lance decided that Shiro could use more personal guidance, including LOTS of touching to correct his pose. Lance, being a professional, always asks for permission to touch him first, which somehow only makes it that much worse, because Shiro wants Lance to touch him. So so bad. Shiro is literally dying. These pants are tight and they will not hide a boner. He’s suffering. Someone help him.
  • There’s no help, and Poor Shiro has to constantly deal with gentle touches and low purrs because god forbid anyone makes a loud noise in the middle of yoga class. It goes on for a couple of weeks until one day he gets a most peculiar text from Lance.
  • (They exchanged numbers because Shiro wanted to add a third yoga session to his weekly schedule but the hospital only held the classes twice a week, and Lance gives him his number in case he has any questions. Of course, barely any Yoga advice was exchanged. )
  • Lance’s text: Uggghhh I can’t do this anymore! Allura, I know he’s your patient and all and he’s “”“"healing”“”“ and stuff but I can’t hold back anymore I just can’t. He’s too hot. I know I promised to hold back BUT THIS IS IT I’M ASKING HIM OUT
  • Shaking, Shiro texts back, asking who Lance is talking about.
  • Lance doesn’t text back for like half an hour and Shiro starts seriously freaking out when he gets a long ass text from Lance, where he apologizes for being so unprofessional and confessing his crush etc.
  • Shiro could almost cry from relief, because a few minutes ago he thought he might’ve lost all chances with Lance but now… He has more than a slight chance. He calls Lance and confesses his own crush and they both laugh and maybe it’s a little awkward because what do you even say in a situation like this but eventually they manage to schedule a date.
  • They take it slow, let things develop naturally. Lance gives Shiro all the time and space he needs, since it’s the first time he’s tried dating since he lost his hand. Takes a little trial and error, but one day, a few months later, Shiro finds out just how far Lance can bend.
Forsythe - Jughead Jones

Anonymous said:

Can I please have a Jughead fic where Y/n (confident, tough girl) is being playful and making fun of Jugheads real name when they’re at her house and he starts a tickle fight out of revenge being 100% done with her shit, despite thinking it’s adorable.

Anonymous said:

Fluffy & cute af Jughead imagine where you two have always been best friends and jug has been trying to hide the fact that he’s in love with you until he finally confesses his feelings and so you admit you feel the same way 😊 Love your writing btw x

Originally posted by squintlovely


I couldn’t help but combine these two ideas! I hope you’re both okay with this and I’m sorry it’s so short!!!

“What does that even mean?” You asked while grabbing your phone. Jughead spun around in your desk chair to look at you. You were sitting on your bedroom floor still giggling over  how his dad used his full name when she picked him up to come over.. “It doesn’t matter, Y/N, just drop it,” he said turning back to type away at his novel. You let out another adorable giggle that, even though you couldn’t see it, made Jughead smile. “Forsythe Pendleton, it sounds almost royal,” you let out a fake gasp, “Are you a long lost prince?” Jughead turned to look at you while trying to suppress a smile, “Wouldn’t that be interesting, me as a prince.” You let out a laugh, “You don’t have the manners!” He gave you a smile and you typed on your phone.

“According to sevenreflections.com, you are suppose to be kind, hospitable, and friendly,” you let out another laugh. He just rolled his eyes while he looked at his computer screen. The original plan for when he came over to your place was to have you proofread the drafts of his novels. He didn’t bring this up of course, but Jughead also wanted to tell you about how he truly felt about you, his best friend. He had been harboring feelings for you since the 6th grade, and after around four years of hiding, he finally felt confident enough to tell you. Those plans were soon scrapped when you heard his real name. He didn’t mind the teasing, not really, he just had other things on his mind. “I wonder what Pendleton means,” you voice broke him from his thoughts. “Oh this one suits you,” you said getting up to show him the results. You leaned over him, your arm over his shoulders to hold your phone in front of his face.

“You express yourself and your ideas through writings or other forms of art. While you are expressive, you like to keep your feelings to yourself,” you read the first few sentences out loud but Jughead wasn’t listening. He had stopped typing, marveling in your closeness and not hearing a single word. “Sounds like you,” you added and you turned to face him, but only to find his gaze on you. “Uh yeah, sounds like me,” he said quickly, looking back to his computer screen. You walked to your bed and sat against the wall, shutting off your phone. “When you’re done with that chapter, I can read through it.” He nodded and you picked at your nails, somewhat bored. Jughead’s finger were typing so fast, he thought maybe he’d have a cramp. He just wanted to hear you talk again. An idea crawled into his brain and he smiled, “So are you done making fun of my name?” You let out a laugh from where you were seated. “Oh honey, I’ve just started!” He smiled at his screen and listened while you described how a guy with his name should act and how he was the total opposite. “Like I said before, maybe you’re a rich prince,” you paused, smiling widely, “if that’s the case, we should go out sometime.” Jughead fumbled in his typing and hot blushed rose to his cheeks. He thanked God that you couldn’t see the blush, but you must’ve noticed his fingers because you started laughing again. To his surprise you didn’t downplay your proposal with a “I was just kidding, Jug.” No, you didn’t say anything of the sort and a sense of hope flooded over him. He added the finishing touches to his chapter and turned to face you.

“And Jughead Jones the third,” you let out a chuckle, “more like Jughead Jones the turd.” You started laughing, but Jughead couldn’t take it anymore. “That’s it,” he said, standing and darting over to your bed. He leaned over you and proceeded to tickle you. You laughed and screamed, causing Jughead to smile wickedly. “You’re so mean Y/N,” he said, still tickling you, “but not like mean mean, but like annoying five year-old type mean.” This caused you to laugh more, making Jughead laugh as well and loosen up on his tickle attack. You took that to your advantage, grabbing his arms and pulling him down to the bed, where you pinned him.

“You tickle me for revenge, Jones, you get put in time out. Who’s the five year-old now?” He laughed fro underneath you, causing you to smile down at him. “I remember when you were five, Y/N, you haven’t changed a bit.” You raised your eyebrow at him, “Really now, would a five year old have such good taste in choosing you as their best friend?” He stared up at you, taking in your stunning features. “Probably not, kids don’t tend to like me,” he whispered and you smiled down at him. He sat up suddenly, face to face with you as you were straddling his thighs to pin him. “But you like me,” he said, feeling his gut tighten with nerves, “and I was wondering if there was a chance that you,” his confidence wavered as he spoke. “I like you Y/N, more than as a friend.” You looked at him, peering into his green eyes before speaking. “You’re lucky you’re probably a long lost prince,” you said with a smile, “so about that date.” Jughead just smiled at you as you rattled off all of the outlandish things you wanted to do on your first date, that he could afford because of his royal family riches.

He just listened until he couldn’t help himself any longer and pressed a kiss to your cheek. His hand lingered on the other side of your face as he pulled away, using his thumb to stroke your cheek bone.  Your expression suddenly grew serious, “Jug, are you sure you want this? I know I’m a handful sometimes and I don’t want you to leave.” His eyebrows knitted together in concern, and he held your face in his hands. “I’ve wanted you for so long Y/N, even though you a total pain in the ass.” You laughed and so did he, but he wanted to you to believe him. He carefully moved in a pressed a soft and short kiss to your lips. “You’re lucky I’m a long lost prince with the patience of a saint.” You let out a loud laugh, “Sure, whatever Forsythe.”

After All This Time

Originally posted by fyeahlucastill

Originally posted by noapologies-v

Summary: “You’re a big girl now, right Alexis? You should know that your grandpa Alex has something called Alzheimer’s. It means he forgets sometimes.”


Summer 1965

Alex Summers and Sean Cassidy were out at a diner for lunch. The young men hadn’t seen each other in a while and decided to meet and catch up over their favorite greasy food.  They got a booth next to a big window, and Sean reclined with a contented sigh. That boy could get comfortable anywhere.

“Hello and welcome to Sally’s Diner. I’m Y/N, what can I get you today?” Alex looked up at their waitress, his eyes trailing up from the skirt of her uniform to her face. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“Your number would be nice, sweetheart.” Sean said, not missing a beat. Alex shot a glare at his friend, throat tightening. He had no right to be mad at Sean, he had no claim to this gorgeous stranger. All the same, he was annoyed.

“Sorry sweet talker, I don’t give my number out until you’ve at least ordered. After that, we’ll see.” She glanced at Alex, giving him a sweet smile. His heart thumped faster.

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Wrapped Around

Jimin x Reader // college!AU // 9694 words

Summary: Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

Originally posted by bwipsul

Genre: Fluff, warning: groping(?)

TA refers to teaching assistant

Part 2 | Part 2.5 | Part 3 | Part 3.5 | Part 4

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while now sigh and I feel bad for not putting out anything this winter break! This is a somewhat exaggerated version of what is a combination of my friends’ freshman year haha. Man I love college.


College had been a lot harder than you expected and you struggled, barely able to crawl past the finish line that was the end of freshman year. As sophomore year came around, new year, new me, you had declared. You were on a mission to bring your GPA back up. No more spending your nights at some random house, celebrating a birthday of a person whom you did not know but rather more nights spent hunched over your computer in some well-lit corner in the library.

Even though you felt invigorated to start the new semester, all that disappeared by the time Wednesday came around. You’re not sure why they call the first week, syllabus week when you had homework and quizzes assigned to you already. By the time it was Thursday, you could only thank god that you were so close to the weekend.

Sat in your final class for the day, your physics discussion section, you could only dream of the long shower you were going to take once you got back to your dorm. The bell rings, and the TA gets up to begin writing on the board but the distant noises of a person running down the hallway makes it difficult for you to concentrate. Within seconds, a rather sweaty boy reaches the doorway, panting as he bows apologetically at the TA before taking a seat right next to you. The TA waves at him dismissively as he continues to drone on about the material you learnt in class this week.

“Alright, now you can work in pairs or groups to solve the worksheet. In 15 minutes, we’ll come back to solve questions 1-3,” your TA declares.

You turn to your right to see that the person next to you had already formed a group with a few other students and you were too shy to ask if you could join. You turn to your left to find the sweaty boy silently working on the problem set. Letting out a light sigh, you begin attempting to solve the worksheet on your own.

There’s a long overdue silence before the boy seated next to you turns eagerly towards you and introduces himself. “Hi, I’m Jimin and you are?”

“Y/N,” You smile politely before turning to your worksheet.

He glances over at your worksheet and scoffs. “That’s wrong,”

“What?”

“That’s wrong,” He points. “You have to use the first equation that’s written down on the board.”

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//so I was thinking this morning (always a dangerous sign) that I’ve talked a bit recently about how the Tumblr RP community isn’t always very good at encouraging people to find ways to manage or get to their drafts, and is instead more likely to coddle peoples’ anxieties without actually helping them at all. 

So this is a post of a few tips and tricks that might help RPers manage some of the more common anxieties I see crop up in our circle. Now, I’m not a full psychologist and nor am I licensed counselor. But I do have my master’s degree in clinical psychology with the intention to go on for the PhD (or get licensed to practice if I don’t get into a program) so I do kinda know what I’m talking about. Hopefully some of this advice is a little helpful:

1. “My drafts just stress me out.” This is a pretty common complaint, but I think in most circumstances it’s caused by stress going on outside of the RP world. Take a step back and breathe. Handle whatever is going on in your real life. That always comes first. If you come back and your drafts are still causing you to feel panicky, the next step is to find out the more specific reasons why. That’s going to help you best address the anxiety. Read on for some common reasons.

2. “I’ve gotten so behind, there’s so many and I’m overwhelmed.” This happens all the time! You take a hiatus for a week or two, or life just got really busy for a while, or just lost muse and now it’s back. But in the meantime, your drafts have piled up- suddenly you’re looking at 20, 50, 100- how do you even start? 

The best way I’ve found to handle this is to break them up into smaller chunks. It might be helpful to copy and paste your partners’ replies over into one or more word documents. You can then further organize those word documents even more. One for short replies, one for long, one for medium length. Or you can organize by muses, by how long the draft has been in your folder- whichever way you want to handle this. If you want to put one reply per document, you can organize them into folders instead. How you do this is entirely up to you.

Set a small goal for yourself- even one draft a day is better than no drafts at all. But by breaking the work up into chunks, you’ve taken a lot of the pressure off yourself. A goal of 1-5 drafts a day is a lot better than looking at all 50. 

Another tip- use the queue! Or simply keep completed drafts saved in the drafts folder until you’ve caught up enough to start posting. The queue will stagger your posts so replies aren’t coming out all at once, and your partners aren’t able to immediately reply back. And obviously keeping them in drafts even after they’re done lets you have more time to catch up. These are just a couple of tips, however, and there are probably other good ways to manage drafts. Find what works best for you!

And don’t be afraid to drop a couple if you have no muse for those threads anymore. Just let your partner know, they’ll understand. And if they don’t, they’re just an asshole and who needs that, right? It is better to communicate that you’re dropping them, however, so you’re partner isn’t left hanging.

3. “I haven’t replied in weeks, I’m worried my partner hates me.” I guarantee this is not true. Most people in the rp community are very understanding of slow response time. Your partners want to rp with you- they’ll be thrilled to see a response, even if it’s been several weeks. Responding, even slowly, shows a lot more dedication and excitement over your threads. 

So if it’s been several weeks, and you finally have muse for that thread and want to reply to it, but feel guilty or anxious because it’s been so long- reply anyway. Your partner will be so happy to see your response. 

Another way to alleviate this anxiety is to simply talk to your partner. And I know, this can be scary- but sometimes you have to bite the bullet and do the thing that makes you anxious. Take it slow if you need to, but communication is the best way to feel better about it. And I guarantee, you are going to feel so much more proud of yourself if you did the thing that made you anxious than if you didn’t.

That goes for replying as well. 

4. “I feel so inadequate compared to others. I should just stop.” This is an example of what mental health professionals call a “negative automatic thought”, or “NAT”. And like real gnats, these little thoughts get all up in your ears and start buzzing around. They can spiral out of control very quickly, until you feel absolutely terrible about yourself. These thoughts are very common in people with both anxiety and depression. 

But the thing is, they can be changed. You can actually re-wire your brain with a little work so that it won’t think these thoughts quite as often. One of the most effective ways is to simply replace the negative thought with a positive one- even if you don’t believe it. So if your negative thought is “I’m horrible compared to other people,” a replacement thought could be “No, I’m just as good as anyone else,” or “my writing is unique to me and it has value.”

You will not believe yourself at first, and it will seem a little bit weird when you start. It’s also a little challenging- your negative thoughts are automatic, you’re so used to thinking them that you aren’t even fully aware of it it half the time. But when you do catch yourself spiraling off into those negative thoughts- try to stop them. This is something we teach in therapy and over time, it does help. And it does get easier.

5. “It has to be PERFECT.” Perfectionism is at the root of a lot of peoples’ anxieties. But I challenge you with this- why? Why does it have to be perfect? What will happen if it’s not perfect? 

The answer to that, usually, is “my partners will hate me/lose interest/think I’m stupid or a bad writer.” Perfectionism is usually a fear of judgment, and it’s usually fueled by feelings of inadequacy or fears of failure. So to that, I refer you back to the previous advice about negative automatic thoughts. 

Challenge your thinking about your perfectionism. A good replacement thought for this one is “even if it’s not perfect, my partner will still be happy that I responded. My writing is still valuable to them.” Another good one- “imperfection means there’s room to grow. Mistakes don’t mean I’m a failure or no good.” 

In general, don’t let anxiety say “I can’t do this.” You can do it. Anxiety is not a permanent state. The body cannot sustain it very long- the elevated heart rate, heavy breathing, heightened arousal- it’s physically impossible for it to last. Eventually, your body will start to calm itself and even back out. This is something that is very hard to sit with, because your natural instinct is to run away from the thing that’s making you anxious. Your instinct is to close the drafts folder, to close the messenger, to log out of tumblr and ignore it all completely. But the truth is, that only makes your anxiety worse in the long run. 

Now, if these tips don’t help, or you’re finding your anxiety is so bad that it’s affecting your daily life in almost everything- I encourage people to please see a psychologist, psychiatrist, or some other mental health professional. Anxiety that’s chronically preventing you from doing the things you enjoy is anxiety that probably needs treatment. Having the extra support of a therapist or medication often makes it possible to implement some of these strategies, or find better ones that work for you. Especially if you’re having a hard time managing things on your own. 

Anybody that wants to add to this with other ideas that have been helpful to you, please feel free to do so. 

Trouble Man

Includes: Sam x reader, Bucky Barnes, fluff

Brief Synopsis: Sam leaves Bucky’s texts unanswered to annoy him without realizing that he is also annoying you. Based on this post.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: It has been way too long since I posted a fic, but I hope you all enjoy this one! Now that it’s summer, I’ve been working on some of my drafts and hope to post more often. Thanks for reading!

Originally posted by anthonymackiesource

Sitting up in bed beside Sam, you could not seem to focus long enough to comprehend what was printed in the novel laying open and unread on your lap. You had already asked him to turn the volume down on the television, which had helped, but then his phone began to belch out a portion of his favorite track by Marvin Gaye when he received a text. Eventually, the texts became so frequent that the tone would only play for a second before starting over again, the inharmonious repetition of sound no where near as euphonic as the entire song. 

“Are you going to answer those?” you nearly growled, your words sounding more like a command than a question.

“Nope,” Sam responded, unaware of your irritated tone as he popped another piece of popcorn in his mouth. He didn’t even bother glancing your way, his eyes glued to whichever movie he was intently watching on Netflix.

“Could you at least put your phone on silent?”

Keep reading

home is wherever i’m with you

length: 1k

genre(s): fluff

triggers/warnings: none

a/n: thank you to @cherryonsimon​ for the beta and @amazingmsme​ for the prompt!!

baz has a thing for simon’s wings, especially when he’s having a bad day




Simon
I can tell Baz’s had a bad day the moment he enters the flat, slamming the door behind him and muttering about daft professors and fucking study groups and–for some reason–his father. Baz has bad days and then he has Bad Days, and I can tell today is the latter.  His face is pinched, his frown is deep, and I’m not shocked when he doesn’t stop to kiss me on his way in.

Baz doesn’t live with Penny and me, but he’s over here often enough that it feels like it sometimes. He’s even got his own key and drawer. His shampoo is next to mine in the shower. It’s not much different than when we were roommates at Watford, except it feels more domestic now, means something different. There we cohabitated because we had to, now we do it because we want to. It’s scary sometimes how okay I am with that.

Baz claims it’s just because Fiona is gone so much and he can’t be bothered to buy food, but I know better.

I also know better than to push him to admit things.

It took us a while to get to this point, if I’m honest. We still get into it, even now that we’re together. Some things never really change. He’s overdramatic, Baz is. And stubborn. And I suppose I can be a bit stubborn at times too, which isn’t very helpful when you’re having a row and neither side will back down.

But I’m always careful around him when he gets like this and I always know what he needs.

The first time it happened, we’d been on the couch watching Masterchef reruns. I’d been about to get up to get a snack because the show always makes me hungry, when I felt Baz’s fingers brushing my right wing. My first instinct was to pull it back until I noticed his expression. He looked peaceful as he stroked it and I found I didn’t mind the sensation all that much. Or having to give up my snack.

Actually, that’s a lie.  I pushed him away about 10 minutes later and got some crisps from the kitchen. He looked ready to throttle me until I handed him his own bag (salt & vinegar) and we resumed our earlier position.

It’s turned into a routine. Most days it’s just idle touches here and there, but on bad days, especially Bad Days, Baz likes to snuggle under them like a child. I don’t mind. I spent so long making him miserable, I’d do most anything to make him happy.

Baz
Fucking Snow is waiting by the door when I get home, looking like a kicked puppy when I shove my way past him to the bathroom. I strip down once I’m there and turn on the shower, hotter than it needs to be. I need to wash this day off of my skin, scald myself until it’s completely gone and I can forget about every little thing that went wrong.

I know he won’t try to talk to me about it. It’s one of the (many) things I love about Simon. He understands that sometimes it’s okay to just… not talk.

I can hear him bustling around the flat even through the bathroom door. He’s not exactly quiet, especially when he’s always bumping things with his wings or tripping over that damn tail.

I step under the spray and let the water run down my back. The slight burn feels good. Therapeutic. Grabbing my shampoo from the shelf where I’d left it the last time I was here, I start to wash up.

Occasionally I think I should stop pretending and just move in properly, but we really do need space from each other sometimes. Still, I’ve left so much over here. Like clothes. And shampoo. My shampoo that Simon used once, when his ran out, and I hated it. He smelled… wrong. Which is about a thousand times worse when you’ve got a vampiric supernose.

I finish up in the shower and put on a pair of Simon’s trackies. I briefly consider nicking a t-shirt as well, but the holes on the back always feel weird, like a draft right on your shoulder blades.

When I enter the lounge Simon’s waiting with a cup of tea and his wing open at his side. He’s put in the dvd for the first season of Downton Abbey, a major acquiescence on his part (although he does occasionally get into the storylines).  

I sit next to him and lean into his side. He rests his wing on my shoulder, effectively wrapping me up, and I exhale and reach for the cup. He’s made it just the way I like it, the way only he knows: with lots of sugar and light on the milk. The exact opposite of him. His own pale brown cup is sitting half-drunk on the coffee table, probably already cold. Simon has a habit of doing that.

“I like this.” I say and take a sip. It’s perfect.

“I know,” he replies, “you don’t exactly keep it a secret.”

It’s true. I’m a bit obsessed with Simon’s wings. Sue me. I’m always finding excuses to touch them, especially on days like this when nothing seems to be going quite right and all I want to do is curl up on the couch and hide from the world.

Once I’ve finished my tea, we rearrange ourselves on the couch so I’m almost in Simon’s lap and both of his wings are surrounding me. We lay like that until the first episode fades into the second and I realize that Simon’s fallen asleep behind me. I feel his warm breath against the back of my neck as he begins to snore softly. It’s comforting, this routine.

I suppose it’s not quite normal–normal, not Normal–to enjoy being cocooned by a pair of wings belonging to your boyfriend, but then again, nothing about our life is.

And that’s perfectly fine by me.