this show had its low points but i still miss it

Makeup Marichat May, Day 11. Age-up Marinette!

Title: Change
Word Count: 1,934

It’d been a while since he really saw her last. After they’d gone off to university, he’d had a hectic schedule that didn’t allow him much time to socialize with his friends from middle school or high school. Plus, with Nino away in Spain, and Alya’s web journalism internship they hardly had a chance to all get together.

Seeing her now, sitting on her balcony quietly consumed in sketching, Chat Noir was hit with an overwhelming wave of nostalgia.

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Alluring Tune | (m)

Pairing: Yoongi x reader
Genre: Fluff, a lot of smut
Warnings: Mature content
Word Count: 4.4K

His voice was almost a whisper, warm breath hitting the shell of your ear. And the heat coupled with the slow, savory movements of his fingers overtop the thin fabric had an almost numbing effect, your mind drawing a blank as you enter an intoxicating haze.

“I thought there was no punishment?” you manage to say, swallowing back the moans that threatened to escape.
“This is a demonstration baby, not a punishment.”

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foofoocuddlypoopsgavesokkaapples  asked:

Can you do more of that mafia au? Like, the team's reaction when they learn abt it through a mind meld thing and shiro is all like "You're a Salazar?!" And it causes shit. Also, can the dad be named Ernesto? Like, I was watching a Mexican telenovela in Spanish class and there was a mafia leader named Ernesto Salazar. It's called "La Tempestad" if you wanna watch it. I hope you do, it's really good.

I still don’t know how the MafiaAU gained a lot of attention (why did this gained a lot of attention? Can someone tell me the reason? I think we all just want to see Iverson to go down.) but here is Part 2. Oh, I like it. Okay, I’ll name the Dad as ‘Ernesto’. I’ll try to watch that show when I get the chance :) .

Warnings: OOCness, AU, some grammatical errors.


After five years of fighting against a war that was on going for the past ten thousand years, Allura finally got the chance to grant the wishes of her Paladins to temporarily go back home. Sure, there were still loose ends that were supposed to be taken care of but it wouldn’t hurt to let the other planetary leaders to handle it for a while. After all, everyone agreed that team Voltron needed some well-deserved vacation.

Throughout all those five years, Allura learned a lot of stuff from her Paladins and in return she watched them grew more as a human and as a soldier. They taught her how to have fun from time to time and cherish every minute of relaxation with her second family. They taught her that she should not devote her whole life fighting, that she had people watching her back and would never judge her if she would trip and fall. They taught her that it was fine to make mistakes as long as she would learn to reflect upon those said mistakes. And most of all, they taught her to trust them indefinitely.

If there was one Paladin that confused her the most then Allura would definitely chose Lance.

The Blue Paladin initially showed himself as this person that never took things seriously unless it was a life and death situation, flirty in a point that always leave Allura exasperated (but later on she accepted it as part of Lance’s nature and she would not change it in any other way), say things that sound idiotic some of the times but a good strategist especially in abrupt situations like being trapped or ambushed by the enemies. All in all, Lance was a human that always contradicted himself from the way he let others know him. At least that how Allura had perceived it.

Lance even became the face and voice of Voltron when it comes to diplomatic situations. Sure, Allura was the Princess and Shiro was the leader of the Paladins, but they could never mirror Lance’s charisma and the way he weaved his words to gain the favour of important individuals. From these situations, Allura eventually learned that some flirting of Lance was used to make the other person to let their guard down and gain their trust. It was as if Lance was trained ever since he could speak on how to have such silver tongue.

A bit of praise in here, a bit of touch there, a little bit of a dance, a little bit of sympathy, and Voltron already gained a new ally by the end of the night. All thanks to Lance.

Shiro once tried to open the discussion about family backgrounds. Pidge and Hunk ended up crying in that session because they suddenly realized how much they missed their blood relatives. Keith tried to play it down on how he didn’t have a family to miss on Earth but he still didn’t get away from the group hug. Lance simply smiled sadly and mumbled something along the lines of ‘at least I cut off some ties…still miss my Mom’s hugs though…’. Shiro attempted to make Lance to speak more about it but the Blue Paladin remained silent for the rest of the session.

They all changed a lot in the course of five years.

Lance’s changed though was like a flip of the switch.

After that hysteric laughter that one fateful breakfast and with an added disturbing explanation, Lance started acting as if the weight of the world was finally off his shoulders. His shooting skills improved in a speed level that Allura was inclined to think that Lance was born with a gun on his hands. His hand to hand combat didn’t rely on strength alone but more in flexibility. Allura never thought that dancing could also be used as a form of combat. As days passed, Lance gave a few opinions here and there on their battle strategies that ended up with them having low casualties compared to the initial plans.

What bothers Allura the most though…was the way Lance gathered his information. He was not like Pidge that hacks in the system. No, Lance liked to do his information gathering in person. Often times it was the Blue Paladin who corners commanders of the ships they were raiding. Lance would take a lot of time but eventually he would return with more information than they have gathered from the ship’s database. The specks of bloods on his body though didn’t escape Allura, Coran, and Shiro’s attention. All of them have the same assumption that Lance used torture to get what he wanted.

It was an assumption that was never proven but could not be denied also. Allura feared that it was her fault that Lance changed so drastically, that he showed more thirst for blood like a soldier excited for a new battle, all because she pushed her Paladins in a war that they were not aware that was happening in the first place.

But all of it was better left in the back of her mind for now. Today was a day for her Paladins, a few months on Earth would do them some good. They explained to her and Coran that it was much better if the Earth’s government would still remain unaware of the existence of other life forms outside of Earth. Hunk and Pidge told her that humans might be in par with the Galra when it comes to experimenting the unknown. Most humans would rather treat aliens like mindless animals than creatures with feelings. Shiro suggested to them that it was better to leave the Castle of Lions outside of Earth’s radar, meaning they needed to stop out of the Milky Way Galaxy, and just use the pods to get near to their home planet.

Surprisingly, it was Lance who suggested a safe place to land. They left the Castle in the hands of a few friends they managed to have through the years of fighting the Galra empire and set course for the coordinates that Lance gave to them.


Hunk was so excited to finally meet Lance’s family…wait, that could probably be said a bit better but that was what he still meant. Hunk never had the opportunity to visit Lance’s home and family even if they had been friends for years. It was always Lance who visited Hunk during vacations and holidays and never the other way around. So for Lance to suggest a place to land and when he realized that it was the beloved beach that the Blue Paladin always talked about with his best friend, Hunk could not contain his excitement. 

“We’re here!!!” Hunk heard the enthusiastic scream coming from Lance and chuckled himself when Shiro shouted words of caution to their Blue Paladin, which was went unheard due to the happy cheers.

One by one they all followed Lance and soon reached the only building found in the area, at least the area that could only be reached by their eyes.

Through all the years they had traveled in outer space, Hunk saw a lot of vacation houses. He saw a lot and it was enough to say that the one if front of them could be classified as one. The house itself might be 250 square meters, excluding the garden part, it has three floors with a rooftop and balcony. The color scheme was a mix between shades of blue and streaks of white, ocean waves and Earth sea creatures adorned the walls while tropical flowers was engraved in the pillars and glass windows.

Long story short, it was like a vacation house owned by a very rich family.

“¡Bienvenido a mi casa!” Lance said with outstretched arms to emphasize the house behind him, “Well…at least for now. This is not the main house after all. But make yourself at home to my vacation house! Tomorrow we will take a plane to Italy and meet my whole family!” he was about to run away again but Hunk held him firm this time before leaving them behind.

“Wait, Lance, buddy, my friend, what do you mean by ‘going to Italy and meet my whole family’ thing?”

“Also, did you just said that this is your vacation house?! Are you some kind of rich kid here on Earth?!” Pidge was clutching her hair, that has grown past her shoulders, as if it could help her making sense of the information she had just been given.

“Um…oops?”

“Oops? Oops?! That’s all you can say?! Why you—!”

“Relax, Pidgeon!” Lance put his hands in surrender, “Let’s take a rest for now! I’ll answer your questions tomorrow once we got to that main house!”

Pidge was still steaming with mix emotions but decided to let it go with an angry huffed. Lance might be the most talkative human she had ever met but he rarely pull out personal information like family backgrounds.

“Okay now? Follow me!”

As they were walking towards the entrance, Keith asked an important question, “How are you so sure that this place still belongs to you? I mean, it’s been five years, right?”

Lance looked back at the group with a playful smile on his face.

“I just know it. Besides, this place was a gift for me by the Decimo himself.”

Decimo?

That was the question that revolved around everyone’s mind. Allura and Coran was just confused by the baffled expression of the rest of the Paladins towards Lance so they opted to stay quiet. This was not their planet after all. They still don’t know the majority of human customs due to its diversities.

Before Lance could knock, the door suddenly opened and they were greeted by a scene that they thought could only be found by exaggerated movies. For before them, four maids to the right and four butlers to the left were lined in a row. Judging from the posture of the man and woman who opened the door it was safe to assume that they were the heads.

What caught Shiro’s attention though was the banner that was proudly displayed on the wall directly on the path of the entrance. It had the symbol of a beautiful mermaid with her tail wrapped around a bullet and the sides were designed with twin towers. It was a very familiar insignia for Shiro and he was sure he had seen it during his years in Japan.

Everything clicked in though when the maids and butlers spoke simultaneously.

“Welcome back, Young Master Lance Salazar.”

Shiro looked at Lance like he had just seen him for the very first time. The others just felt their jaws dropped at the sudden revelation.

“You’re a Salazar?! As in that Salazar?! Salazar Familia?!”

This time, Lance gave them a mischievous smirk that was clearly up to no good.

“Oops.” There was no remorse or guilt laced tone when Lance said that.


Part 3? Anyone wants a Part 3?

Langst Mini fic

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I love you not. (Jimin x Reader Series)

Prologue: Lilacs

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 3,457

Summary: “…you knew that you could never deny, despite how much you’d tried, that you’d always thought of Park Jimin as more than both he and you had labeled it all those years… Friends.”

Notes: This story was inspired by a prompt from a master prompt list and can be seen as the very first line here. Credit to that list, one of which I cannot re-find for God’s sake. This took me a while and was left in drafts for a while, but I’ve decided to finally post this. I haven’t been writing much and I’ve gone to shit due to the lack of practice :( Hope this one isn’t that shitty… So enjoy!


“Can I tell my parents that I’m at your house, just in case they get suspicious?”

“Isn’t that what you always do?”

Jimin’s laugh echoed loudly from the other end of the line. 

“True, true,” he admitted. “They trust you more than they trust me, Y/N-ah.”

“I can see why they would do that,” you sat leaned up against the window and watch as the sun cast its last golden rays before sinking into the skyline. 

“Are you saying I’m not trustworthy?”

“I’m not saying that you’re not not-trustworthy.”

“Well as the person that has kept all your secrets for as long as both of us can remember,” he breathed. “I am extremely offended.”

“Whatever, Jimin,” you sang into the receiver. “Just go have fun tonight.”

“Fine, fine,” he spoke with an exhale. “I will have fun, Miss ‘it’s-Friday-night-and-I’m-going-to-stay-in.” 

You let out a small chuckle, “That’s me.”

Jimin laughed as well, you could just imagine the grin he had plastered on his face that moment. Long seconds passed, comfortable silence filled the line, only the low static buzzing through the earpiece.

“Well,” Jimin began after a while. “I guess I’ll get going now. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

Love you, Y/N.”

Same here.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

You removed your phone from the side of your face, knowing well that Jimin had already hung up by then. You sat still in your spot for a while, staring off into the fading sky. Even if the call had ended a long time ago, you still very much felt your heart race as if you have just run a mile. 

Having felt the same damned feeling for seventeen years straight, you would think that you have come used to it by then. But as you had always proved yourself wrong, you knew that you could never deny, despite how much you’d tried, that you’d always thought of Park Jimin as more than both he and you had labeled it all those years.

Friends.

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Pocket Change | 1 | (M)

word count: 7.5k

genre: smut; supernatural AU + demon!yoongi

pairing: reader/yoongi

warning(s): mentions of domestic abuse

special thanks to: @honeyheonie for being a wonderful beta  ♡

masterlist

Originally posted by sugaa

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They all die in the end

Originally posted by jjks

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Sniper!Au / Angst / Smut (a tiny, tiny bit) / One-shot

Rated T for mentions of murder, death, mature themes

Word count: 10.5k rip

Synopsis: In his long career, Yoongi had quickly learned how being a professional killer required many do’s but only a few dont’s - just two, to be more precise: nr. 1 never miss your target, and nr. 2 don’t ever get caught.

And yet, after meeting you, it was crystal clear that he had never considered the most important one.

Nr. 3: never fall in love.

Author’s note: Finally!! This is my first request, with the prompts sniper!Yoongi, His beauty could kill you and They all die in the end. To the cute anon: I hope you like it just as much as I enjoyed writing it even tho this is the angstiest shit I have written until now.

Also, a special thanks to @inktae and @sugajpg for bearing with my existential crisis about this <3



Yoongi doesn’t really feel ashamed of his job.

Sure, he kills people in exchange of money – good money, to be more precise; but it’s not something that actually bothers him in his sleep. Well, he is blessed with dream-less nights after all, thus he can’t really be definite about it: maybe, if nightmares of blood and screams and horror filled his mind, then he wouldn’t be so serene, so apathetic about it. Maybe, he would feel a decent amount of regret.

But again, that isn’t the case, and so he’s able to look at everyone straight in the eyes, lips guiltless and always curved in a faint smile – they would have been murdered anyways, if not by him, surely by somebody else. At least, Yoongi gives them a quick death.

And it’s not like he targets innocent people anyway – well, as much as someone could be innocent nowadays. Oh no, he usually works for the Mafia, sometimes for the Intelligence when they need somebody to act outside the law: the flies he has to kill are always the dirtiest ones, buried in some horrid shit up to their neck, and thus with a bullet into their throat they die. Or in the forehead, or between their lungs – it doesn’t really matter, does it?

So no, Yoongi doesn’t really feel ashamed of his job.

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Sugar, Sugar

A/N: It’s so late and so I will make this quick. Thank you to @celestial-writing for literally helping me cultivate every aspect of this fic. I’d be lost without her. Also, @minhosmeanhoe for throughly editing this for me  and for also being my late night partner in crime.

warnings; none

Word Count: 2876

Originally posted by dylanobrienisbaeee

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What Happens In Vegas: The Final Part

A Bucky x Reader / AU drabble series

Master List

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long! Idk if anyone knew but I was going through some rough patches for a little while. Gonna try to write on a regular basis now. Anyways, here is the final part. There will be an epilogue! Let me know what you think. I love hearing from you! ♥

Word Count: 2,101

Warnings:
- language, maybe?

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

Bucky followed you around the next morning like a lost puppy. He was nervous, constantly biting his nails, his hands fidgeting. You drank at least three cups of coffee, trying to keep your mind clear and alert for the sure shit storm that was going to be this trial. You had put out all the stops to pull these strings; normally, cases like this didn’t go to trial for months. But you knew people and, although you didn’t exercise that privilege often, you were glad it was there.

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Search for Loneliness Part2

Hi people! This is part two to the one shot called Search for Loneliness which is the first one on my blog. I think you can read this even if you haven’t read part1 and still get the plot. Hope you enjoy! 
Huge thanks to the person who requested Part1 and to my friend @interfectorems for the patience and help!

Plot: Harry broke Y/N’s heart. But how come he misses her now?

Warnings: May hint on sex and includes curse words. 

Pic isn’t mine. 

Harry was awoken by soft kisses being peppered across the warm skin of his shoulder and a low groan fell from his mouth. Images of a girl flashed before his eyes and a lazy smile forced its way onto his face, happiness flooding through his entire body.
She was here.
Y/N’s smooth fingertips were drawing over his tattoos and Harry took a deep breath, wanting to fill all his senses with her, all of what was her. His muscles relaxed beneath her soft touches and his heart thumbed heavenly full with emotion in his chest. Y/N had come back to him. Or maybe it was him who’d never left? Or…
Strange. She smelled differently than he remembered. And her hair was softer. In fact, now that he thought about it, the tender touches he was receiving could in no way be coming from his Y/N. Y/N hadn’t ever drawn over his tattoos, but rather along them, touching his bare, uncovered skin rather than the inked one. It was only a faint difference, but the moment he started paying attention to it he couldn’t ignore how drastically wrong this felt.
His heart fell and his stomach knotted. There was still the same distance between Y/N and him as there had been last night. And the day before. The week.
Harry rolled onto his side, successfully disconnecting the foreign girl’s touch from his body without even looking at her and got to his feet so quickly his head felt dizzy.

“Breakfast?” his raspy voice muttered, but he was out of the bedroom before his visitor could complain about his unfriendly manners or give an answer to his question.

….

“Yes, Gem, I’m aware of that.” Harry rolled his eyes at his sister’s lectures about how he’d missed another family dinner and pressed the phone closer to his ear. “It must have slipped my mind. M'sorry.”

“You seem to have very little room in that mind of yours lately,” his sister remarked, “We’ve all seen what might be occupying all the space. How is you’re new mysterious women doing?”

“S'no mystery,” he replied slowly, “And s'not very serious.”

She hummed, indicating that she clearly didn’t buy it. “When did you decide Y/N was to be out of the picture?”

Harry huffed in annoyance. In moments like this he regretted ever bringing Y/N around to meet his family. If he hadn’t done that they surely wouldn’t be bothering him about her anymore.

“I had my reasons so don’t even start.”

A loud, exaggerated sigh was heard, yet she remained silent. Gemma knew her brother well enough to sense when it was best to leave him alone. She also knew when he’d spill what she wanted to hear without needing to be pushed.

“She was just… not right, you know?” he admitted.

“How so?”

Harry shrugged even though she couldn’t see, his fingers nervously switched on the tap, allowing clear water into the sink. Switch on. Switch off.  

“She couldn’t accept my life”, he explained, careful to choose his words wisely, “There were many little things she did which clearly showed how little she understood about my lifestyle and there were bigger ones. I once asked her to come to dinner with me and Kendall and she said no, not because of my past relations with her, but because she didn’t want to get into a situation where she’d be filmed for a TV show. Or because there would have been too many paps around. Same went for any other time I wanted her to meet someone remotely famous and at some point all the arguments became too much. Is adapting to my standards really too much to ask? She couldn’t just expect me to change for her or to not go out for dinner every week anymore.”

Silence. One that told him enough.

“What?” he asked annoyed.

“Why do you think I didn’t come to that yacht you rented a couple of years ago?” Gemma giggled. “I met Kendall and she’s actually quite lovely, but her presence does mean a massive amount of cameras. So do all of your other friends. I’ve got sort of used to it over the years and still hate it, so I can understand if a girl with even less experience feels frightened or intimidated by it. Just my opinion, little brother. Maybe you could have solved that issue by simply giving her more time.”

Harry swallowed hard and processed his sister’s words. More time? But weren’t five months enough to come out of your shell if that’s what your boyfriend expects of you?

Gemma went on: “If you feel happier now then I’m on your side, promise. But you need to make an effort, too, Harry. If any relationship of yours should ever lead to something, you have to get used to the thought of making an effort yourself and not just expecting the girl to do all the work.”

….

Harry scrolled through her Twitter page and it was strangely empty. The last phrases she’d tweeted had been posted weeks ago. Not even her favorites showed any activity and though Y/N hadn’t exactly visited her Social Media every day, this absence did appear odd. Harry couldn’t admit it to himself, but he did miss knowing what she was up to. Had she experimented with a new recipe? Had she gone to the cafe in north London she’d always wanted to visit? Had she managed to get a ticket for that gig one of her favorite musicians  had held last week? He wished he could ask her.
Deciding that this wouldn’t provide any of the desired information, Harry closed the app with a sigh and instead found himself opening the familiar app of his photo folder.
This images weren’t new, but familiar and this was something he desired just as much; the familiarity Y/N had posed that was now lost. Harry stared at the photos and was surprised how every detail of her face was still engraved into his memory, just like any face of a person he cared about was. Only that he shouldn’t feel that way for her anymore. He didn’t have the right to.

“What are you doing?”

The voice was soft and sweet and yet Harry flinched at the unexpected noise. Mia… Maya… Harry wasn’t sure which name it was exactly but after she’d stayed over for three days now he figured asking would be rude. He shut off his device and let it drop onto the coffee table before him, doing his best to appear relaxed.

“Nothing really.”

His new girl smiled and stepped closer. She was pretty. Her hair fell in long waves just below her waist and her wide eyes sparkled with a friendly curiosity for what he was up to, thought or felt. A curiosity he’d known when he had himself began developing feelings for Y/N and now was all he needed to recognize the condition the girl before him was in. She would fall for him. Soon.
Harry didn’t tense when she stepped closer and instead held out a hand for her to take, giving it a slight tug so she would swing one leg over his lap and climb up.
Harry granted her a gentle smile when he had her sitting in his lap with both slender arms wrapped around his neck, his own hands pressing against her smooth back. Maybe if she’d fall for him, he would find the perfect companion he had been dreaming for. The one Y/N had failed to be.

“Are you okay?” Mia or Maya asked with a small frown between her perfectly plucked brows.

Harry just nodded, his throat too dry to answer. Her smell invaded his senses and the sweetness of her perfume clouded his mind. His girlfriend, if that’s what she could be called, smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to his mouth, expecting it to be a short one and finding herself surprised when Harry’s tongue pushed between her lips and dipped into her mouth. One of his hands moved up to press against the back of her head, keeping her from moving back while his fingers pulled at her top with a feverish desire to tore it away. A small laugh fell from her soft lips and she disconnected their kiss in order to oblige his wish and undress. Once off, she leaned in and pressed tender kisses to the side of his neck, sighing whenever his hands moved over the uncovered skin of her body.
Harry’s mind raced and his heart thumbed heavily in his chest. His lower stomach ached and his thighs felt pleasantly tingly. Soft hair brushed over his skin, warm lips placed gentle kisses and delicate hands left faint scratches on his back and stomach. He allowed his head to roll back and his eyes to fall shut.

“Y/N.”

The name left his mouth in a breathy gasp and it took the girl he was holding to shrug off his embrace before he could realize what he’d done wrong. Hurt evident in her eyes she stumbled to her feet and bent down to gather her shirt, covering her naked torso with hastily moving and shaking fingers.
Harry’s stomach turned and he shook his head, an exhausted huff leaving his mouth.
Why wouldn’t Y/N leave him alone? Even when she was miles away she could torment him like no one else ever had.
Words were shouted, but he took it with no fight and instead stayed sat in his chair as the girl before him began to cry and shake, receiving no words from him to mend her heart ache. At some point he thought she’d slapped him, his cheek, previously kissed by the same person now red and stinging. But he wasn’t sure and only noticed his guest had left when the door fell into its lock with a loud noise.

….

He had to call her. Y/N hadn’t left his mind in days and frankly he was quite sick of it. So many ordinary tasks had been ruined by her messing with his head. Nervousness made his heart skip and press the phone just a little closer to his ear, waiting impatiently for Y/N to pick up.

“Hello?”

Her voice. His eyes fell shut when he heard it and his fingers tingled. She sounded calm and collected, not angry at all.
Harry cleared his throat.

“S'me.”

Silence. He heard Y/N take in a breath. “I’m sorry, but who’s this?”

A frown took over his forehead until it dawned on him. She couldn’t have known it was Harry, he realized. In order to keep any woman he was involved with from having his private number he had it blocked at all times. He could call and text them without any of them getting his contact info. It was an old habit he’d broken for Y/N and quickly picked back up once he’d broken up with her.

“Harry,” He clarified, a small smile tugging at his lips, “Forgot about me already, have you?”

The silence following his words was nothing like the one earlier. It was as if the connection had died and Harry quickly checked to see if she’d actually ended it or not. Harry’s feet shifted and sighed.

“Y/N?” he pressed on carefully.

“Harry.”

It was a whisper, exhausted and empty.
Harry’s heart squeezed painfully tight and he brushed the sweaty palm of his free hand against his jeans. So she really wasn’t angry, but hurt.

“Listen,” he began, “I-”

But he was already interrupted by the dreadful peeping noise and this time once he looked at his phone, her name had vanished.

….

His head hung low and his hands were balled into fists. Just one knock, that’s all he had to force himself to and from there she would take the lead. Every time Harry had had a problem it was her who knew just how to solve it, why should it be different now? All she’d need is him who came back long enough for her to help.
With a deep breath Harry raised his hand and let his knuckles meet the door twice. A shudder ran down his back and his throat went dry.
What would he do? What would he say?

I know I was an asshole but I flew all the way back to LA for you so please forgive me?
I can’t explain it, but I miss you.
You haven’t left my mind in weeks, no matter how much I tried.

He couldn’t blame her should she shut the door right into his face if he dared bringing any of those weak excuses. His trail of thoughts was interrupted by the wooden door opening just a slim gap, allowing the person inside to see who it was interrupting their evening.
Harry braced himself, his heart skipping in his chest and he looked up eagerly to see the face he’d missed so much more he could have been prepared for.
But it wasn’t Y/N.

“Mary.”

Harry cleared his throat as the unexpected sight of Y/N’s friend threw him off guard. She narrowed her eyes once she realized it was in fact him and she opened the door wider, keeping hold of it to block him from entering.

“I knew you’d miss her,” she spoke, her voice nothing but unkind and empty of sympathy, “She is too good for you and I just knew you’d end up at her door once you realized that no girl you’d try replacing her with would compare.”

“Is she here?” Harry asked, ignoring the sting in his chest caused by her harsh words.
They were true in every way but his pride wasn’t going to just let him admit that.

“Yes,” Mary replied.

He paused, expecting her to say something more but she just continued to stare at him with venomous eyes.

“I need to see her,” he elaborated and took a step forward.

The gap quickly narrowed, but to his surprise Mary nodded. “The moment she calls for me to drag you back outside, I will.”

Harry nodded and pushed past Mary, entering the familiar space. He could still feel her enraged gaze on his back as his own eyes scanned the living room in search for his ex girlfriend, but she was no where.

“She’s in the bedroom.”

He uttered a thanks to the woman eyeing him and with weak knees he walked down the familiar hall and to the closed door or her bedroom, his heavy heart dropping to his stomach. He’d stood here so many times before.
Sometimes with flowers in his hands to surprise her just because she was as lovely as they were. On other days, mainly morning, he would take a moment to prepare for seeing her barely dressed and in her bed, his fingers tightening around the cups of coffee or the bag of breakfast he had gone to pick up.
Of course he also recalled the many nights where he’d stood right here, with her in his arms or hoisted up and pressed against the wood.
Never before had he stood here with fear rushing through his veins. It’d been him who’d rejected her, but he couldn’t imagine handling the situation if their roles were reversed. He was certain he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Then he heard it. At first only faintly, then clear and loud enough for his heart to break.

Whimpers. Cries. Sobs.

Her face when it had finally dawned on her that he was leaving her had been a picture he’d replayed in his head over the past weeks.
His ears still rang with her cries and his eyes burned at the memory of her soft lips parting to beg him to stay with her.
And still, he hadn’t realized just how much he’d harmed her until now that he could hear her heartbreak through the thick wood of her door.
His hands pushed down the handle before he had thought twice about it and he rushed into the room. He could have sworn his soul crumbled at the sight of Y/N curled up in her bed, a thin blanked shielding her shivering body from the cold while she cried and sobbed into her pillow. Her arms were wrapped around the fluffy material and her head buried into it so Harry couldn’t see her face. Harry wasn’t sure if she’d even noticed his presence or not but he didn’t care.
Before Y/N could protest or really understand what was going on, he’d discarded his shoes and climbed up behind her. Both of his arms found their familiar hold around her waist and he felt tears shoot to his eyes when he finally buried his head into her neck, breathing in her comforting scent. His legs pushed hers apart before intertwining with them and so Y/N soon was cuddled into and against Harry, closer and tighter than she’d ever been before.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry breathed against her skin, “I love you.”

Not for a moment did he hope she might have missed the confession that had slipped his lips before he could stop it. Though Harry hadn’t thought about it before, hadn’t come to any conclusion and sure as hell hadn’t spoken to anyone about it, he realized it was true. He did love Y/N and any reason he’d dug up to break up with her had been for the sole purpose of stopping him from falling deeper.
But he loved her. And this time he wouldn’t leave.

“Forgive me,” he continued, his own voice breaking as his eyes stung with tears.

Y/N’s body was stiff aside form the occasional shakes by her crying and she did nothing to return his embrace. But she didn’t push him away either and this allowed him to hope.
His lips found her neck and he sobbed when happiness flooded his body, his skin tingling with the relief of finally having her close enough to touch again.

“This time will be different,” he promised against her before pressing another tender kiss to her skin, “I promise you, Y/N.”

And so they lay, on the very bed Harry had broken her heart on all those weeks ago. He thought it fitting that it was here he doing his best to mend it again.
But although he held her, breathed her in and murmured promises of how much he regretted it all, Harry continued to fail to understand just how deep his betrayal had cut and so he didn’t know that all Y/N’s head was screaming for was for him to disappear, even if her arms were too weak to push him off and her voice too thin to send him away.

….

When Harry awoke he was alone.
His hands didn’t need to pat the mattress in search for her, his entire body could feel her absence without having opened his eyes to confirm it. He felt cold.
He crawled out of bed with a groan and stretched his limps before walking gingerly to the closed door, down the hall and into the kitchen. His hands clenched and his heart skipped widely in his chest, nervous of what was going to happen next.
Y/N was standing with her back to him when he entered the small space of her kitchen and for a moment Harry considered sneaking up on her and wrapping her into an embrace, just like he’d done many times before. She turned around to face him before he got the chance.
Y/N’s eyes met his and he froze. Her gaze wasn’t anything like the loving and warm one he’d expected to receive. Instead, her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, proving just how much she’d cried last night, if not many more nights before that.
Her lips were bitten and dry, her hair appeared to be mat and when she raised her mug to her lips to drink he noticed how her hand was shaking.

“Did you sleep okay?”

It was a stupid question, he knew that even before he’d asked it, but he couldn’t think of anything else he could say. The girl before him looked nothing like the Y/N he knew.

“Can’t say I did.”

Not even her voice sounded the same, he noticed with a sinking heart.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, unsure to which one of his many mistakes the apology applied for.

“Breakfast is in the fridge,” Y/N spoke without reacting to his words.

They ate in silence, Harry sitting on the table and Y/N leaning against the counter. He watched her hand trembling slightly whenever she raise the spoon full of cereal to her mouth and he needed to focus on his own fingers to keep them from shaking too.
Once they had both finished Y/N turned to wash her bowl clean, but flinched away from the water when Harry stepped close to do the same.

“Y/N,” he sighed, set down the ceramic he was holding, before leaning against the counter himself. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Y/N answered quietly, “Other than  that I think you should leave.”

Her eyes refused to meet his and instead focused onto the floor. A frown took over his face.

“Leave?” He shook his head.

“Yes.”

“But Y/N,” he protested, “we made up. Last night when I climbed into your bed… we made up, didn’t we? Said I was sorry and promised to be different now…We made up.”

Though he’d wished to have her look him in the eyes again, the moment she did, he regretted it. Her orbs were cold and empty of any kindness.

“Because you climbed into my bed as I was crying?” The raw emotion in her voice knocked the breath right out of him. “You think that’s all it took?”

“I-” Harry began, but was interrupted.

“Surely you must know that it was you who’d made me cry last night. It’s been you every night for the past weeks.”

He swallowed hard and his stomach was in knots as he watched her turn around and exit the kitchen. Though he was worried about what would happen next, he followed her into the living room, this time aware of her resentment towards him and so he didn’t try and sit close to her again once she lowered herself onto the couch. Harry took a seat on one of her chairs and watched her warily, unsure if she wanted him to speak or had something to say herself. After a moment of silence he took a breath.

“I swear to you,” he began, “that me breaking up with you was in no way your fault. I know I made you feel as though it was, but it wasn’t. All you did was caring for me so much more than I’d imagined someone could and I fucked it all up simply because I didn’t know how to deal with that.”

“I didn’t think somebody caring for you would pose such a problem to you.”

“It didn’t,” Harry quickly argued, “Not a problem, but something that scared me. I didn’t want you to realize that I didn’t deserve you.”

Y/N laughed. “That’s bullshit. You wished that was why you broke up with me but we both know it isn’t.”

Harry fell silent. The girl before him shook her head and let her gaze wonder to the window, appearing deep in thought for a moment.

“I have spent every minute of every day since you abandoned me with ways of making sense of it. Do you realize that? While you were fucking her, I was sitting here wondering what I’d done to be thrown to the side like a plaything you decided you didn’t want anymore.”

“That’s not true,” Harry protested before he could stop himself, “I saw you with that man at the shops. I did nothing with anyone until I saw those pictures!”

“Oh, I’ve seen those photos, too,” Y/N spoke, her voice raising, “And you, of all people, should know that the media can make anything into a story! It was a guy who’d accidentally bumped into me and asked if I was alright. Nothing more.”

Oh.

“And what about you?” she continued “Did you also just happen to fall into that woman’s arms and did your mouths meet completely by chance? Did she stumble into your bed and you just coincidentally happened to be naked?”

“Stop.”

“Why? Don’t you want to think about her?”

“No,” he murmured, his eyes suddenly wet with tears.

Y/N swallowed hard and though it wasn’t easy for her to see the man she loved tormented, she had to admit that with every word she spoke, another weight was lifted off her chest.

“I’m not the first,” Y/N began, her tone gentler, “That’s what saddens me, too, though it saddens me more for you than it does for me. Tell me, what is the girl’s name? The one you left behind now so you could come to me.”

Harry froze. He looked at Y/N and if he wasn’t mistaken he recognized a hint of pity in her eyes. Not pity for herself, but for him.

“Do you not know? It’s Moira.”

Moira. Harry’s mind raced. Not Mia. Or Maya. Moira.

“I saw it in every picture that was posted online. She was like me, looked at you just the same. Are you aware that you broke her heart just the same you have broken mine?”

No, Harry thought, he couldn’t have.

“And what is the girl’s name you left before you first met me? And the girl before that and the girl before that? You have left so many people in the past few years there is a trail of heartbreak behind you and to this day you have remained completely unaware of it.”

Y/N’s cheeks were wet but her voice didn’t tremble.

“It isn’t the same,” Harry spoke, his voice hoarse, “you’re the only one I want, Y/N. We laster five months, that’s worth so much more than any fling I might have had before you.”

He closed his eyes and let his head fall into his palms.

“They meant nothing,” he swore, “and Moira,” he swallowed hard, “was only a distraction from you.”

“You said I wasn’t what you wanted,”  Y/N continued, “I assume you told all of them the same. You’ve let so many people down all because you selfishly chase a romanticized picture of a relationship you have in your head.”

“I’ll change,” Harry weeped against his palms, “From now on it’ll be only you. I don’t need any imagination of a relationship. I want what was real. Want it with you.”

He removed his palms form his face and got to his feet. He noticed her body tense when he neared but she didn’t move away, not even when he dropped to his knees before her.

“I’m in love with you.”

She shook her head. “Don’t,” she whispered and this time she allowed him to see her tears fall from her eyes, “don’t say that only because you’re scared.”

“I’m not,” Harry whispered, “It’s the truth, that’s why.”

Y/N didn’t flinch when he reached for her hands and his heart squeezed when she didn’t pull away.

“I am scared,” he continued, “How couldn’t I be? Your rejection would break my heart and I don’t know how I’d live with the knowledge that it is my fault that I lost you? But I’m not scared of being alone anymore, not enough to throw myself into random relationships like you were right, I have done all this time. I want you or nothing at all, Y/N. I love you.”

He watched her sob and squeezed her fingers with his gently, appreciating any skin touched by her warm tips. This small touches, the reluctant squeeze and tiny movements, meant so much more than the physical contact he’d graved and taken last night. He’d held her, kissed her, breathed her in. But this was voluntarily. She was holding his hands because she wanted to.
He could have rejoiced.  
When her body fell forward and into his open arms, he didn’t know for sure if it was because she wanted it or just her body giving out, finally surrendering to the weight of her emotions.
He cried out when her arms settled around his neck and his heart broke when he felt her kiss his neck. After all this time, he could breathe again.

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“I’ll fix this,” he promised, “Everything. I’ll call and apologize to every woman I hurt in the past. You are right, always are, and I should apologize to them for my selfish actions. But you and I are different, Y/N. We’re real and I won’t let my stupid imagination ruin anything again. I don’t want the classic perfect. I want our perfect.”

She sobbed and held onto him tighter. Harry fell back to sit on the floor and a relieved laugh tumbled from his mouth when she followed to sit in his lap, both legs now wrapped around his waist.

“I love you,” he whispered against the shell of her ear.

He groaned when her small hands pulled at the strands of hair at the back of his neck, but obeyed and moved his head back so his eyes could meet hers. Her beautiful orbs were full of the loving care he’d missed so much and he felt another wave of tears rush to his own eyes.
For a moment she just looked at him, the man she’d given her heart to, who’d then broken it and now promised to mend it again. Harry.

“It’ll take time,” she murmured shyly and he nodded without hesitating, “but I think we’ve got enough of it.”

A smile danced on his mouth and his eyes closed when her soft lips met his in a tender kiss. He had her back, he thought, his heart full of joy and he wouldn’t ever be reckless enough to let her go again.

Thank you for reading this!! Hope you liked it. 
Rest of what I wrote can be found here: 
http://harryimaginedstories.tumblr.com/post/144920695218/masterlist

anonymous asked:

Kara and Alex go to the aquarium. There's this part of the building where one can walk under where they keep some of the more brightly colored fish or maybe fluorescent jellyfish and it's just a little awe-inspiring. Kara loves it. They have a special membership bc they're donators and they like going on quiet days where there aren't any crowds and they can just relax and quietly look at the fish. When they get tired of walking they sit in the auditorium and share popcorn while watching the film

i’m a sucker for a good danvers sisters prompt. take a k and a half of mild angst, with a heavy side of comfort. enjoy! 

it starts with kara missing out on brunch. a last minute text sent so strategically that it’s only received after alex and maggie are sitting with  james and winn, browsing the menu. and the text is casual, it’s worded so as to not alarm anyone. but this is kara, and this is brunch and if there’s one thing kara loves, it’s food. especially brunch food.

so alex shows the text to maggie and maggie squeezes alex’s thigh and kisses her cheek and says “go, danvers.”

and alex’s heart soars because how did she find someone so perfect? not to mention how lucky she is for having friends that welcomed maggie practically at once into their superfamily. it makes the walk over to kara’s apartment light and with the freedom from worrying about her girlfriend with their friends, alex can focus on kara.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Sooooooo I was thinking what would Shiro do if his s/o showed up to party in a sexy black dress just to get him back for spending so much time with Voltron P.s I love your Blog!

I like the way you think! I do love me some petty revenge.

Originally posted by lanceville


“Hey Shiro! What are you up to today? Cause I was thinking–”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I need to go over Voltron’s last battle and come up with some sort of game plan,” Shiro sighs and glowers at the screen in his hand, “We should have taken that Robeast out before it had that chance to knock us down. Maybe if I had had Lance and Hunk move us–” He’s talking more to himself now so you just cluck your tongue and walk away. Maybe next time.


You paced back and forth on the observation deck, growing increasingly agitated with every slowly passing minute. Seriously? He’s thirty minutes late! Where the hell was your boyfriend?!

You stop and loudly vent your frustration before storming storming towards the training deck. God help Shiro if he’s still training during date night because oh…he’s not here. None of the paladins are. So, clearly they finished? 

You sigh and head towards the rooms. You can hear various showers running and the thought of scaring the crap out of Shiro while he’s showering brings a skip to your step. But when Shiro’s door opens, you can see him laying face first in bed with his armor still on. You deflate and let his door shut on its own. If he’s tired enough to sleep in his armor then there’s no point in waking him. 


And so it keeps happening. Every time you think you finally get Shiro on his own he either has Voltron related business, extra training, or is passed out in places he shouldn’t be. It’s frustrating. It’s vexing. It’s starting to piss you off

Of course, you don’t think you’re more important than defending the universe from evil purple aliens but dammit, it hurts to be pushed aside so easily! 

But tonight…oh-hoho, tonight you were going to get back at the Black Paladin. 

You see, Allura, Coran, and Shiro have been in negotiations for the last week or so with the twin High Priestesses of Il’rea, who have long been fighting the Galra in their own quadrant of space. They’ve been highly successful; due to the combined power of Lady Arcadia’s tactics and Lady Selena’s bloodlust and frankly, Team Voltron needed help from people like them if there was any hope to defeat Prince Lotor. 

Tonight, the whole planet was celebrating the new alliance in Voltron’s honor with a huge party. Food, music, pretty girls, pretty guys (just pretty people in general), and displays of power and magic promised to be a fun night.

But there was a small problem. The problem was, as Lance put it: “Those Priestesses are total babes! They could literally crack my skull between their thighs and I would die happy.” Whether he was on duty or not, Shiro was spending a lot of time with beautiful women that were not you and tonight was the night you were going to drag his attention back, Voltron and the Alliance be damned. Especially since it’s been a good two weeks since you two had some true alone time. 

You smiled triumphantly at the sexy little black number hanging on the back of your door, ‘Watch Shiro ignore this.’


Shiro missed you. God, he missed you so much it started to hurt and the guilt he was carrying about temporarily pushing you aside to focus on Voltron was starting to haunt his nightmares. He was determined to fix it tonight. He was going to apologize for being a shit boyfriend, apologize for overworking himself, and apologize for making the love of his life feel like she no longer mattered to him. 

Keith had made it a point to find Shiro tell him that last little tidbit last night. It hurt. It hurt so bad Shiro actually spent most of the night crying and beating himself up mentally for that one. He royally fucked up, and he knew it.

So when the shuttle carrying you and the Paladins arrived, his heart began racing and Shiro felt the telltale fluttering in his stomach that told him he was nervous. But there were only four bodies on that shuttle and none of them yours. Concerned, Shiro pulled Keith aside to speak to him in a low whisper, “Hey, Keith. Wh-where’s Y/N? Isn’t she coming?”

Keith pursed his lips and glared. Shiro dropped his hand from Keith’s arm and took a step back, caught off guard by the uncharacteristic hostility in his friend’s eyes. He waits and Keith looks away before clearing his throat, “She’s not coming. She said she has a migraine so she’s going to take advantage of a silent castle and sleep it off. She doesn’t want you there.” He walks away with a final glare, making sure to clip his shoulder against Shiro’s. 

Shiro rubs his shoulder and glances towards the other paladins. He blanches as they quickly turn away to hide their glares. Crestfallen, Shiro swallows the lump in his throat and blinks back the tears that threaten to spill. He has a job to do tonight so he steels himself and turns around, stepping out of Takashi Shirogane - the failing boyfriend, and into Shiro - the Black Paladin and Leader of Voltron. 

He doesn’t see Lance and Hunk sharing concerned glances as they wonder if they took their glares too far or Pidge and Keith giving each other a thumbs up. He also misses you slipping out of your hiding place in the pod and moving to the next hiding place, shoes in hand. Allura, who has been your silent partner in tonight’s shenanigans, gives you a wink as she steps in front of your new spot, further hiding you. Bless her. She’s just as petty as you are.


Parties.

There was a time in his life that Shiro once enjoyed a good party and the chance to get shit-faced drunk without a care in the world. Now his anxiety was acting up, telling him there were too many people, too many points of entry, too many chances for an assassin to sneak in, this is was just another chance to get Lance blow–no. No. He needs to stop. There’s no point in thinking like that.

God, he needed a drink.

Luckily, Il’rea has alcohol, or something like it, and Shiro grabs a glass from a passing waiter and downs it in one gulp. Much better.

He grabbed another drink with every intention of downing that one too but he was stopped when he saw you flitting through the crowd. But it couldn’t be you, you were in the castle. Right?

He drops the glass from his mouth and moves to follow what he swears was you. His searching is fruitless and Shiro gives it up as a bad job only a few minutes later. He was looking for a black dress in a sea of black and white with little variation. Why couldn’t the woman have been wearing a red dress? That would be so much easier!

Like Allura! Shiro could make her out easily since her dress started as a bright yellow and faded to a soft orange. She looked like an Earth sunset was easily the brightest person in the room. Shiro smiled as she laughed at some aristocrat’s joke, happy to finally see her so carefree after the stressful week they had. He wished he could be like that.

He watched for a few more moments and was about to turn away when Allura hooked her arm through the arms of another woman and they turned as one to move together. His heart stopped for a split second because he knows that face. He knows that face.

Where Allura was as radiant as the sun, there you were, looking like the human embodiment of the night. Your hair was pulled up and artfully messy, lips painted a deep purple to match purple eye shadow, the front of your black gown draped over you to deeply expose your breasts and Shiro swallowed when he saw the long beautiful silver necklace he found for you sitting innocently on your chest. The last time he saw it he was watching it shimmer and shine as it moved with every thrust of his hips against yours.

You looked like Sin. And when your eyes locked Shiro swore then and there to have you underneath him before the night was over. He continued watching with hungry eyes as Allura twirled you two around and revealed the (pretty much non-existent) back of your dress and he changed it to within the hour. The wink you gave him over the shoulder as you disappeared into the crowd gave him the fuel he needed.

But it wasn’t that easy. Every time he got close to you, Hunk or Lance would whisk you away for a dance and pass you off to someone high ranking enough in the Il’rean hierarchy that Shiro knew it would cause tension if he just cut in, so he was forced to wait. 

And wait.

 And wait. Prowling like a panther at the edge of the dancing crowd, waiting for his chance to snatch you up.

Eventually there was a lull in the music and Shiro used it to beeline towards you, determined to have you in his arms and screaming his name in one of the smaller rooms next door. But he was stopped by Keith shoving a plate of food in his hands with a cheeky grin. “You haven’t eaten all night. Here. It’s delicious.”

“I-Uh…What? Oh,” he looked down at the plate just long enough to loose you in the crowd again and he cursed his luck. And his crew, the shits. He could spy Pidge up on the balcony, no doubt keeping an eye on the situation and instructing each of the Paladins to intercept him every time he got too close. He should have known they’d be in on this. They do like to stir up trouble. 

Well. There would be no getting to you this way. Not with Pidge directing them. And he couldn’t just run up there like a psychopath and stop her. She’d see him. He popped some of the food Keith brought him into his mouth and saluted Pidge. If this was his punishment, it was his punishment. But he could spoil their fun by giving in. His own private revenge on his crew for their mutiny.


“Surprise, surprise. You didn’t come for me,” you sigh as you lean against the balcony entryway. Shiro turns towards you with a bittersweet smile, “Would you have let me?” He leans against the balcony, doing his best to appear nonchalant even though his heart was hammering in his chest because there you are! His beautiful girlfriend! The light of his life! The woman he would willingly risk life and limb for! Dear god, he could see how pissed you were.

You fake thinking for a moment, making sure to bring a finger to your lips, just to enjoy the way Shiro’s eyes darken at such an innocent gesture. “No, not really. I was enjoying myself soooo much. I didn’t want to distract myself with my significant other.” Your pointed glare hits home and Shiro drops his gaze to the floor. You do nothing but wait, letting his shame settle in.

You soften as his shoulders drop and he slowly walks towards you, frightened that with each step closer he moves, you will bolt. You both release the breaths you didn’t know you were holding as Shiro slowly brings his forehead to yours. His large hands feel so right as snakes them around your waist and just holds you, taking a moment just to savor you in his arms before he can gather the courage to speak. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to push you away. I didn’t intend to make you feel like you don’t matter to me, because you do. You are–I love you,” you gasp at his confession and the urge to scream ‘I love you too!’ is almost to much to bear but Shiro isn’t done talking, so you bite your tongue. Literally. “I made a mistake. I need to try harder. I will try harder. For you and Voltron.” 

The kiss he gives you is so tender and so sweet it nearly brings tears to your eyes. You pull him down for another harder kiss as he pulls away, wrapping your arms around his neck for leverage before pulling away enough to mumble against his lips, “You beautiful idiot. I love you so much but you’re too hard on yourself. I just…I missed you.”

You buried yourself into Shiro’s chest and squeezed him tight, enjoying the way his arms tightened against you and the gentle way he nuzzles into your hair. He was so warm and comforting and you couldn’t believe that you had gone nearly two weeks without this. These were the moments you lived for: domesticity in a universe at war.

“I’m going to fuck you in that dress the moment we get back to the castle,” his voice is low and gravely in your ear and you shivered. Moment ruined. 

“I’ve had to watch you prance around in that sorry excuse for a dress all night. Did you even see how much people wanted you?” A moan escapes as Shiro mouths directly against your ear and he moves his cool metal hand up your exposed back. You can feel his half-hard erection against your hip and he grins wickedly against your ear as he lightly rocks against you, “You naughty thing, I’m going to–”

“Sorry to interrupt,” you and Shiro jerk apart as Lady Arcadia glides by, her sister in tow, “but might I trouble you to use one of the rooms down the hall? As lovely as public displays of affection are, surely you two would enjoy privacy?” They quirk twin eyebrows and smirk, gliding away the way they came. 

You adjust your dress and hair, thankful that you were interrupted before anything else started. You share a bashful look with Shiro and clasp hands before re-joining the party; putting a pause on your libidos to play ambassadors. There would be time to play later tonight.

01. Must Have Energy - Kim NamJoon fanfic

AN*  So I ran across a “Bed Sharing AU” prompt list with 8 prompts and thought it’d be a great exercise to explore writing fanfics again, this time for BTS instead of anime. I just recently wrote “Grief” which is the first fanfiction I’ve written in 3 years… the first anything I’ve written in 3 years actually.  So don’t be too hard on me.  I intend this to be the first in a series, using all 8 prompts with different members.  8 prompts, 7 members… the 8th will be a surprise.

A special thanks to BTS… for giving me inspiration and re-igniting my passion to write again. (Gif credit to original owner.)

02. Kim SeokJin - Mama Mo’s

03. Min Yoongi - You’re Mine

04. Jung HoSeok - My Hope

05. Park Jimin - Awkwardly Perfect

06. Kim TaeHyung - The BPP

07. Jeon JungKook - Call Me Kookie

08. BTS - Hawaiian Thunderstorm

Originally posted by trash-for-bangtan

Must Have Energy

Prompt: The heater broke and I’m freezing get over here!

Pairing: Kim NamJoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff, oneshot (smut light)

Word Count: 4.1K

“Come ooooon….” you whined into the phone.

“I seriously don’t know what you expect me to do!” NamJoon laughed on the other end.

“You’re a man!  Men fix things!  So fix it for me!” You knew you were being unreasonable, but the chill creeping into your bones was no joke.

“Well… I can’t argue with logic like that,” he laughed again. You rolled your eyes.

“Are you coming or not?”

“Let me see what I have and I’ll head over… I can’t promise anything though.”  You sighed in relief.

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you shot out as fast as you can.  “Hopefully I won’t be a popsicle by the time you get here.”

“Hurry up… got it!” You could practically hear the smirk on his face. “See you in a few…”

“Minutes right? Not hours!?” you shot back.  He just laughed.

“Go put on a coat or something… the longer I’m on the phone, the longer it’ll take me to get there…”

“BYE!” you said a little too loudly, immediately hanging up.  Thank God for NamJoon.  You don’t know what you would do right now if he wasn’t an option.  Why did the heater have to go out now… in the middle of a frickin’ snowstorm!? You had no money to hire a professional, who would charge overtime because it was a weekend… and you had no clue how to fix anything!

At least with Joon there was a chance of success… a pretty high chance… well… 50-50 maybe.  You didn’t know him all that well, but you had hung out a few times… and when you were with a group, you managed to find each other and would go into your own little world sometimes.  He was sweet, and funny, and the dude was a genius.  He never tired of telling you about the latest books he’d read or the random information about some tree as you walked past one in the park.  But could you trust him not to burn the house down?

You shook your head. Who cares if he burned the house down!? Then you’d at least be warm again!  You had on a t-shirt under a sweater and leggings on under your jeans, fuzzy socks on your feet tucked into fuzzy slippers, and you were still starting to shiver.

You should have called him earlier!  You were just hoping against hope that the heater would fix itself this morning, and now that it was afternoon, you were desperate.  Instead of a coat, as NamJoon suggested, you grabbed the comforter off your bed and snuggled in to wait on the couch.  At least the power wasn’t out… you flipped on the TV hoping there was a show about the tropics or something that would mentally warm you while you waited.

Keep reading

In A Moment Ch. 9

An Avengers Series

Character Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,906

Warnings: 18+ Smut! Oral (female receiving), hand job, fingering, language, dirty talk.  

A/N: Guys, I’m going to be honest with you… I’m not happy with this chapter. My lovely friend/proof reader loves it, but I am just filled with doubt. Ugh… I’m sorry this took so long!

Originally posted by sepassidaroma

Leaning over the balcony of your hotel room, you looked out at the view of Rome.

Italy.

You had hoped you never had a reason to come back here… ever.

You felt your palms start to sweat where you were holding onto the railing. Oh god, this was a horrible idea.

You turned when you heard the balcony door open. Steve closed it behind him before coming to stand next to you. He didn’t say anything, just stood quietly beside you, arm brushing against yours.

“Steve, I don’t think I can do this,” you whispered.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him turn his head toward you, “As much as I want to agree with you, I don’t sweetheart.” His hand wrapped around your elbow, “I told Tony that we could find another way before you agreed to come. But deep down, I know you can do this.”

You looked up at him, “If I asked you to abort this mission and take me home, would you?”

He nodded, “In a heartbeat.” Your eyes scanned his serious face. For about half a second you thought about doing just that because you knew without a doubt that he would. You shook your head and moved closer to him, seeking the warmth of his body, “I can do this,” you said, resting your forehead against his chest.

Steve’s arms went around you, hugging you close, “There’s my girl.” You wrapped your arms around his back as he started to sway the both of you slightly. You turned your head with a smile, placing your ear right above his heart. You listened to the steady beats. His strong arms held you close, and his warmth seeped into your bones.

Keep reading

100 Kisses

Summary: You decide to give Bucky 100 kisses for his 100th birthday.

Word Count: 2,845

Warning: cursing

A/N: I’m sure in parts of the world Bucky’s birthday is long over, but it’s still March 10th where I live! Happy Birthday, Bucky Barnes!


9:15 am

Steve Rogers stared at you with wide blue eyes as you attempted to wolf down a bowl of cereal. There were many things out of place in this picture—for one thing, he couldn’t quite fathom how a person could so wildly eat cheerios, your spoon constantly clanging against the sides of the bowl.

For another thing, it was rare that you were up this early on a Friday, even if it was a special occasion. He glanced at the clock opposite him, noting that it was only fifteen past nine in the morning.

The super soldier opened his mouth to say something, but he stopped short at the abrupt sound of your chair scraping its legs against the floor. You shot out of your seat to drop your wares in the sink before floating across the table, depositing yourself in Bucky Barnes’ lap.

Bucky eyed you with a smirk, still chewing his breakfast while you placed your hands around his neck. You stared at him with doe eyes, batting your lashes heavily. “You need somethin’ darlin?” he questioned you, the tips of his lips curving into a smile despite the pointed look he was trying to give.

“Uhhhhh hurry up!” You bounced impatiently on his thigh, squirming around as you started to slip. “I’m only at twenty-seven!”

“Twenty-seven what?” For a quick moment, everything you could have possibly meant flashed into Steve’s mind, some of them not exactly what he wanted to think about over his first meal. With a quirked eyebrow he looked at the close couple, searching their faces for an explanation.

“I’m trying to mmm-” Your voice was cut off when your boyfriend shoved toast into your mouth, the jam smearing across your lips and making it sticky. Smugly, Bucky returned his attention to Steve, who watched on with a bewildered expression.

“She’s attempting to give me one hundred kisses today.” His voice was laced with mirth, a silly smile plastered onto his lips that juxtaposed his usual expression. Steve laughed, understanding your restless behavior.

“Did she give you ninety-nine last year?” Steve asked, very amused by the challenge, but also grateful. While your idea was strange, he found it sweet and affectionate; just the type of love Bucky needed after years of solitude.

“He hid his birthday from me last year, and now he has to pay for it!” you accused, poking your finger into his chest. “Besides, one hundred is a special milestone! Much more so than ninety-nine.”

“Most people don’t make it to ninety-nine,” Bucky pointed out, prodding your cheek with the end of his fork. You could see him fighting the urge to cave into your demands, hiding his grin with a cup of coffee. His eyes seemed to shimmer, much like they did when Steve brought him to the tower for the first time.

It felt like so many years ago that you’d met Bucky, a cautious, broken thing with eyes like glass. You didn’t think you’d ever get to see him so comfortable, so relaxed, so human. It made your heart swell, more so than the kisses ever could.

“Well then, even less people make it to one hundred. I’m glad you’re one of them,” your smile softened as you placed a kiss to his temple, his eyes closing in reverence. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, placing his head against yours.

“I’m glad you’re here with me. You too, punk,” the brunette’s eyes picked up to Steve’s, narrowing playfully. “I see you over there.”

With a grin, Steve held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Who me? I’m not doing a thing. Just watching my best friend be totally disgusting with his girlfriend.” He was shaking now, wiping a tear away from his eye as his laughter continued.

“I guess there’s some things one hundred years can’t change”


1:34 pm

“Fifty three…fifty four…fifty five…fifty six,” You were on a roll, having placing your lips back and forth against Bucky’s for a few solid minutes. You were getting fast, knowing that at some point he would grow impatient of sitting on the couch for such small pecks.

He hadn’t complained yet, a satisfied smile growing even wider as the other occupants of the room stared in horror while you repeatedly kissed Bucky, counting in between. Sam mimicked retching, his acting turning into an actual couching fit.

“Jesus Y/N, aren’t you tired? And I don’t just mean from having to look at Barnes in the first place.” His voice made you stop, turning to face the man with a weak glare. Wariness showed on your face, emphasized by your off-guard expression and swollen lips.

“Could you please be nice to him for like, one day out of the year? Actually two; Christmas is a good time to lay off him too.”

“Could you two maybe get a room? We’re trying to watch quality entertainment, not whatever gross thing you guys are doing,” Clint groaned, eyes still glued to the television. Tony and Sam agreed with a round of complaints, the entire room beginning to get rowdy.

“Why are we even watching this? It’s March Madness, turn on ESPN!”

“Um, the Joffrey Ballet is performing Romeo and Juliet and I’m missing it.”

“Would you guys mind if we put on Star Trek?”

“Fuck Next Generation, Brucey. Someone hand me the remote or put on How I Met Your Mother.”

All of a sudden the T.V went blank, the remote clanging to floor as you dropped it with your powers. The room was suddenly silent, no one daring to make a move as your eyes returned to normal.

“I was here first, and I say you’re all watching T.V. in another room,” Your voice became dangerously low, scarring the others to scamper out of their seats without any complaints. There were small apologies being thrown at you, mostly muttered from Clint and Tony. (“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t use your powers!”)

You smiled until a pair of lips were pressed firmly to yours, a much longer, heated kiss that stole your breath and your thoughts. Bucky had grabbed your waist, pulling you to straddle his lap once again.

“Sixty,” he reminded you, voice low as though he was sharing a secret. You blinked, forgetting what the numbers were for in the first place. He had that effect on you.

He smiled, a little embarrassed, but hugged you closer all the same. “I wanted to give you one. That was pretty hot.”  


6:28 pm

“What number are you guys on now?”

Natasha lazily swirled her spoon in her tea, head propped on her fist as she sent a smirk towards you and Bucky. By some miracle you weren’t completely smothering him, the two of you eating like normal people at the dinner table.

“Eighty-six. I’ve been spreading them out, he likes it better that way.” You beamed at him, unaware of his blushing state. Nat, however, noticed this right away, wiggling her brows to gain his attention.

“I’m sure that’s not the only thing he likes spread out,” she winked, and immediately after Bucky placed his head in his hands. A chorus of feminine cackles erupted, making his face even hotter.

“Bucky, please,” you wheezed out, holding a hand to your stomach. You gave his back a little rub, coaxing him out of his flushed state. “What are you acting all shy about, baby?” you teased him, the two of you calling him “ladies man” and “lover boy”, harping back to the stories Steve used to tell about him.

Bucky slowly lifted his head, hands still covering his face. “You know, I thought today was going to be more embarrassing for you than for me. How could I be so wrong?”

You rolled your eyes as his antics, prying his hands away. “C’mon Buckaroo,” you joked, trying to use as many dumb nickname as you could to calm him down. “We’re only teasing.”

“Relentlessly,” he added, and you scoffed, placing your hands on your hips.

“You’re one to talk about relentless! Do you want a list of all the times you’ve taunted me! You did that to me this morning!” Bucky peeked at you through his fingers, catching the frown etched on your face. “It’s only fair!”

“Sorry, don’t recall,” he muttered, getting up from his seat and walking away from you. You sputtered, standing quickly and bumping your thighs against the table.

“Hey!” he was starting to run now, even with very limited space. His back was retreating faster down the elevator corridor, and you picked up speed, getting a running start off the ground before you flew towards him.

“I can fly faster than you can run, Barnes!” you called after him, eyes glowing as you shot forward. Bucky suddenly turned, arms wide open, ready to catch you with a solid stance. You tried to slow down, but you were hurdling toward him like a comet. The force of your collision sent him skidding backwards, his feet tripping over themselves to regain a sense of balance.

You ended up twirling like a top, his arms wrapped around you as you spun into the elevator. Your giggles turned into a hiccups, only to be silenced by a kiss. A deep and slow one, melding your mouths together and ultimately grounding you. Any dizziness that persisted afterwards was not from being spun, but rather from the kiss that had you seeing stars.

“Eighty-seven,” you counted proudly, without a single hiccup.


10:04 pm

Ten o’ clock wasn’t late by any means, but it had been a long day.

There had been something of a party in the common room since seven; a small gathering that consisted of the Avengers, and a few other agents Bucky knew well. Tony had promised it wouldn’t be anything he wasn’t comfortable with, and that if he wanted the celebration over, he could have it.

Tony kept his word. Even though Bucky had been having fun, he realized that while he was busy catching up with Thor and Scott Lang, Y/N had hardly been by his side. Perhaps it was the suddenness of it all, but he felt immensely detached, gazing at her from across the room with longing looks.

You were quite adept at deciphering Bucky’s looks, even from far away. He’d given you this long stare, his baby blue hues so cloudy and dull, reason enough to saunter over to him and press a quick kiss to his lips.

“You okay?” you asked him, concerned that he wasn’t having fun. He didn’t seem to suggest the idea, but you could tell that something was bothering him. The first two times you did it, he shook his head and granted you a small smile.

The third time was different. By the third kiss you felt his restless energy, his hands cupping both your cheeks, seeking some sort of outlet. You held his hands, looking straight into his eyes.

“Bucky,” you paused, making sure he was hearing you. “Bucky are you alright?”

He was beginning to nod, his hair falling into his eyes as he bowed his head, but his chin never came back up. “I’m fine, I just,” he sounded strained, his voice thick with some emotion you couldn’t quite place. “How many left?”

“Ten,” you told him, rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his hands. “Just ten more.”

He licked his lips, grabbing onto your wrist loosely and pulling you away. “I want to go.” He was using short sentences, his speech rushed and shoulders tense.  Today had been long, and social events tended to tire him out quicker than anything else.

“Okay baby, you stay right there, I’ll tell Tony.” You gave him a smile that was forced, the façade vanishing when you turned away from it. You nearly jogged to reach Tony, explaining the situation as best you could, despite not understanding it yourself.

He was good about it. Tony didn’t make a scene, he just waved graciously with a small smile. Bucky returned it, and suddenly the whole room was raising a glass in his leave.

“Happy Birthday, Buck! Hope you had fun.” Steve’s strong voice was wistful, but his smile was not at all sad. Bucky gave a salute, relief seeping back into him as you two looped arms, turning your backs to the avengers.

“You sure you’re okay?” It was simply precautionary, your worry fading when he gave a genuine smile.

“I’m fine, doll face. Just wanted to cash in those last ten kisses in private.”


 11:15 pm

He was smooth, in almost everything he did. It was scary, sometimes, how he could surprise you like that. Bucky appeared so sharp, so bent and twisted sometimes that you were always taken aback by how careful and soft he treated you.

His hands slowly went up your side, bunching the soft cotton of your pajamas impatiently. When he detached himself, his burning blue eyes looked straight at you, lips parted but unmoving, the question unspoken between you two.

“Ninety-eight,” you replied, breathing heavily against his lips, your foreheads touching. He’d been playing this game since he’d gotten you alone, taking charge of the gift you were supposed to give him. He rolled his hips under yours, nails digging into your sides almost painfully as he angled his mouth down for another go.

Suddenly his pursed lips met the pads of your fingers. He blinked, watching as you sat back on your knees, taking his wrists into your hands.

“This is my gift. You can’t take control of it, that makes it yours.” You felt like you were pouting, crossing your arms to convey your annoyance, even it if was acute.

Bucky laughed until he realized you were serious. “What? Darling, come on,” he persuaded, lifting up your chin. “It is for me.”

“Yeah, but it’s, I’m,” you struggled to form your thought into a coherent statement, one that would make sense. “I’m giving you one hundred kisses, in my time. You can’t cash them all in like a rain check.”

That seemed to do the trick, your boyfriend leaning back on his elbows, looking at you with raised brows. “Well when you put it like that,” he drawled, and you used your strength to push him down onto his back.

“When I put it like that,” you mocked him, landing on your side next to him. You grazed your finger across his jaw, tracing the outline down his neck and collarbone. His skin was hot to the touch, but shivers wracked his spine when your nails scratched under his chin. He was eager, hands twitching to touch you. You laughed at his restraint, cupping your hands to his cheeks and giving him a soft, tender kiss that lasted but a minute.

You didn’t need to say it out loud; you both understand that this was the last of them, the final kiss to mark his birthday. He smiled as he shifted to mirror your body, arms snaking around your neck. He wanted so desperately to say something, but before he could even think about it, your lips placed a small peck to his.

“One hundred! Happy Birthday, Bucky!” you grinned sneakily, and he grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap. You laughed at his expression, the fleeting anger that bubbling under his shock.

“What? That so does not count!” he yelled, feeling cheated. He pulled your wrists to bring your closer, so close that your chests touched and your eyes were solely focused on each other. You still stifled some giggles back, and Bucky finally sighed, resigned to the fact that, no matter how devious it was, you’d kept your promise.

“You’re forgetting something,” your chirpy voice reminded him, and he grumbled a quick response before you placed your hands on his chest. You captured his attention a mere moment before you captured his lips, this time in a kiss that mattered.

It started slow and hesitant, as though you were testing unsteady waters. Soon it became deeper, those hovering hands now fully immersed in his hair, tugging at the roots with just enough pull to spur him on further.

Bucky placed his hands on your hips, slowly sitting himself up, never breaking contact. He placed you back down onto the bed, his weight pressing against yours. Your resolve broke, that earlier statement off the table as Bucky guided you onto your back, trapping you between his arms. Your head pressed into the mattress, your body sinking as your breath was stolen from you, Bucky’s chest flush against you.

When the need for air became too hard to ignore, Bucky pulled back, a questioning glance on his face. “Pretty sure I’m not one hundred and one,” he inquired, and you smiled.

“One for good luck.” Your answer made him break out into a grin, one so contagious you nearly forgot about everything else. He slowly leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, a good and quick thing that conveyed everything it needed to.

“I don’t need luck when I’ve got you.”

anonymous asked:

Can you update the 100k Fics please? Read most of the them and looking for something a bit longer to sink my teeth into too!

a nice long read is coming right up

Put Down in Words by paintedrecs (31/31 | 203,777 | R)

“Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”

“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.

“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.

*

When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.

Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.

Teen Sorcerer by G8rguy (18/? | 107,109 | R)

Stiles Stilinski is tired. Tired of being ignored and forgotten once the research is done. After defeating Gerard and freeing Jackson from the Kanima he thought things would improve but somehow it got worse. Derek is focused on building his pack which includes the newly rescued Erica and Body, freed after Allison realized her grandfather was nutso, and the freed Jackson who narrowly avoided being shipped overseas by his parents. Scott is focused on his neverending relationship drama with Allison and his new best bud Isaac. Left alone more often than not, Stiles feels everyone is moving on without him so he looks for his own path.

When Deaton is unable to help him with his Spark he looks elsewhere and finds others who help him along until he finds himself meditating in his room and is surprised by an Astral form that shows up. Unknowing attracting the attention of the new Sorcerer Supreme, Stiles discovers that he might be able to not only help Dr. Strange, but he just might find out how he can protect both his home and those jerks in what he considers his pack - whether Mr. Hale or Mr. McCall consider him or not.

Among the Famous Living Dead by standinginanicedress (9/9 | 103,483 | NC17)

“Okay,” Stiles leans over the book, finger on his chin, while Derek stands there beside him with a frown on his face, “we have the pig’s blood.”

“They loved that at the butcher shop,” Derek mutters, rubbing his hand along his jaw. “I’ll take three quarts of pig’s blood. Not like this town doesn’t already think I’m some sort of fucking pervert anyway.”

“We have the hair you picked off his clothes,” Stiles points to the tiny Ziploc bag with a handful of Scott hairs tucked safely inside, and Derek grimaces. “We have the candles. We have the snake. Now we just need an object of the deceased.” He furrows his brow as he leans over the book some more, cocking his head. “It says the object can be anything that was deeply personal to the deceased. Like a piece of sentimental jewelry or a cherished trinket or even a favorite song.”

Derek snorts. “Yeah. Let’s just listen to fucking Blink-182 and summon the devil.”

“Right?” Stiles laughs, high and hysterical, manic almost.

Derek laughs, and Stiles laughs, and it’s not funny. It’s really not funny.

Can’t rely on me by Littleredridinghunter (2/2 | 116,130 | NR)

Set at the end of season 2, Gerard beats Stiles up, but it’s a lot worse than anyone knows.

The pack let him down, that’s not really a surprise lately.

When Danny finds Stiles nearly bleeding to death the next day it’s the start of a beautiful friendship.

Can the pack make amends before it’s too late? Will Stiles ever forgive them for not being there for him when he needed them the most?

Love. Be Afraid. (Season One) by Akinasky (16/16 | 201,978 | R)

Stiles Stilinski is desperate for a distraction, he needs to not think about what time of year it is or how much he still misses his mom. He takes his best friend Scott into the woods and everything changes for them from that night on.

This is a slightly different take on season one (EDIT very different take on season one), and its all from Derek and Stiles’ perspective. This is a slow build Sterek, a lot of undercurrent stuff and the boys not talking about it.

What Happened?

Word Count: 3385

A/N: I wrote this in French Thursday, and then my French teacher got onto my laptop from hers and closed out of it, and I almost had a heart attack because she didn’t save it lol, but I remembered that I had sent it to my email before hand and all I had to do was finish the fic because she deleted the ending, so phew. Hope you enjoy it! Much love!

Warnings: Violence, swearing (duh, I mean its my writing sooo), debating on whether they want to live.

Originally posted by riverrdxle


Originally posted by betty-and-jughead

MasterList 

   The past few days had been weird ones for Y/N, no one ever noticed she was around. For the first couple of days, she figured it was because of her accident, maybe they just wanted to give her space. She didn’t remember much of it, it hurt her physically to try to remember, all she knew was that one second, she was following a lead with Jughead on Jason Blossoms murder and the next she was on the ground and her head was pounding. But after the first few days of trying to talk to her friends and them just walking away, or the waiters at Pops and even pops himself ignoring her presence in the diner, she figured she had done something wrong. She pissed all of Riverdale off, and she didn’t know how she could fix it.

     Since she had moved here, these people had been her family, the ones who picked her up after she had fallen. Moving alone to a new town was hard, especially because she was only 16, but they made it easier. She quickly became friends with the core four, which had now become the core five, with the occasional tag along of Kevin or Cheryl, and Alice Cooper, FP Jones, and Fred Andrews all had offered to take her in or help her at one point in her stay, no matter the circumstances of their own home life. She had even started dating Jughead, the beanie-clad writer who also happened to be her best friend.

    It was never supposed to get this bad, and she didn’t know how her accident had made everyone hate her. Jughead and her had found a lead on Jason, deciding that going down to Sweetwater River to look for clues on their lead was a good idea.

___

    “Ready to go?” Jughead asked, taking a flashlight in his hand and looking over to Y/N.

    “I am. Let’s do this Jones.” She said, taking a flashlight in her own hand and fallowing Jughead out of the car. Archie stayed behind, he was going to wait for the two of them to return after they were done looking around. They made their way down to the water, looking around for any indication that Jason could have been down there, going to the place where he was found. They searched for a half hour to no avail, with nothing coming up.

___

    Y/N sat in her room, her head starting to pound again as she tried her best to recall that night. She must have done something, there had to be an explanation. She heard familiar voices outside her apartment and she got off her bed, looking out the window to see Veronica and Betty walking by. They looked up to her window, and she smiled and waved down, hoping that they would wave back but they quickly turned their heads down. Y/N felt her heart sink, there they went again, ignoring her.

    “I just can’t believe what happened.” Betty said, and Y/N listened in, hoping to catch a bit of their conversation before they walked away.

    “I can’t either, this doesn’t feel real. It was so unfair what happened to her, I mean hell, it was unfair to the town.” Veronica replied, a tinge of sadness in her voice.

    ‘what did I do that was so unfair to Riverdale?’ she thought to herself.

    “Why were her and Jughead even investigating down there, anyways? Didn’t they know it was dangerous? The killer could still be lurking around. I mean obviously he was.” Veronica questioned, and Betty nodded her head.

    “I’m just glad Jughead didn’t get hurt too, but its still heartbreaking about what happened to Y/N. She was one of our best friends, and she had just moved here too-“ Betty choked up on her words, and Veronica pulled her into her side, trying to comfort the blonde-haired girl.

    “I know.” Veronica said, and with that the two of them walked out of earshot from Y/N, who stood near her window just as confused as ever.

    ‘What the hell happened to me? Why can’t I remember? And why did they seem so sad?’ Y/Ns thoughts raced as more questions than answers were coming at her. She wanted more than anything to know what was going on, she wanted to be with her friends again. Slowly, she backed up until the backs of her legs hit the bed and she fell back onto it.

____

    “Jughead, we should go.” Y/N said, kicking around a few leaves that had fallen to the ground. Jughead stood up and ran his hand through his hair, sighing in frustration.

    “We haven’t searched everything, there could still be evidence, we’re just missing it.” He tried to argue, but Y/N rolled her eyes.

    “There’s nothing out here, Juggie. We need to go back, Archie is probably getting mad. We told him we’d only be out here a few minutes, not a half hour.” She said, putting her hand on her hip.

    “A half hour is a few minutes, anyways, I’m sure he’s finding plenty of ways to entertain himself.” He teased, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

    “Well I’m going back, and I don’t want you out here alone. Are you coming or are you not?” she asked, and Jughead looked at her for a second before answering, thinking over his options.

    “You can go if you’re bored, I’ll only be a few more minutes.” He said, shining his flashlight down again and looking through the brush.

    “I don’t want you to be out here alone, please come with me, we can return later.” She begged, but to no avail.

    “Any evidence that might be here now could be gone later, its better if I look around now.” He said, slightly annoyed.

   “Jughead, please-“

   “Go!” Jughead yelled, taking Y/N by surprise. His eyes immediately went back to the ground, continuing his searching, and Y/N rolled her eyes.

   “Fine, but when I get kidnapped in these woods because you didn’t take me back to Archies car, don’t get mad at me, get mad at yourself for being an ass.” She spat, walking away.

____

    Y/N cringed at her last memory, her harsh words cutting deep into her, she couldn’t even imagine what they did to him.

    ‘That’s why he hasn’t talked to me, he’s mad.’ She thought to herself, getting up from her bed, but her head was spinning. Trying to remember what happened was taking a toll on her, and she didn’t understand why. She got up from her bed and walked out of her apartment, making her way to Archies house. She was going to apologize to Jughead, and she was going to try to get Archie to talk to her while she was at  it. She wanted her friends back, she wanted them back more than anything.

    As she walked down the streets of Riverdale, she noticed how empty and barren they looked. Barely any cars went by, people were scarce and none of them smiled or waved back at her when she did it to them. She hung her head low, keeping her attention on the road in front of her, she didn’t want to show her face around town at the moment, but she needed to get to her friends and make up with her boyfriend.

____

    Y/N walked slowly through the woods, trying to make her way back to Archies truck, although she didn’t completely remember where he had parked it. As she kicked around the rocks and leaves at her feet, she spotted a shiny something in the debris on the ground, and she bent over to pick it up. It was a credit card with the name of Clifford Blossom on it. What the hell was his credit card doing out here? She turned it around and almost dropped it out of shock, the back had blood splattered on it, she turned the card back around and noticed there was some on the front as well.

    “Jughead! Jughead, I think I found something!” she yelled, turning back around to run towards the direction of Jughead. She heard footsteps and the cracking of leaves and twigs coming from the distance, and she felt relief fall over her slightly, he was coming. “It’s a credit card with some blood on it, I think it could be Jasons blood, and you’ll never guess what name is on it.” She called, trying to find her way through the trees.

    “Whose name?” a voice said from behind her, it definitely didn’t sound like Jughead. She turned but before she could see the face, she was knocked over, a blow to her head had thrown her to the ground and she grabbed her head that was now in excruciating pain.

    “What the fuck!” she cried, the world starting to go black. Another hit to her head knocked her out, the last thing she remembered was a scream, but she couldn’t even remember if it was from her or not.

____

    Y/N fell to the ground, the world spinning and she cried out in agonizing pain. Her head hurt like a bitch, and she didn’t know where she was for a good few seconds. After the pain resided, fear set in. She remembered what happened, but she was still confused. How did her getting hit in the head offend anyone in the town? Maybe whoever hit her found out she was accusing Jasons own father of killing him, and they were all mad about that. I mean who accuses the father? He was already cleared, wasn’t he? That had to be it. It was the only explanation. She slowly looked up and found that she had collapsed on Archies front lawn, the sun shining behind the house in front of her. She got up as slowly as possible to not trigger another dizzy spell, and made her way to the front door.

   She walked up the front steps and hesitated knocking on the door. She was scared, what if they didn’t want to talk to her, or see her ever again. What if they opened the door and slammed it in her face after seeing who it was. She didn’t think she could handle their rejection, especially not right now. She was weak and needed her friends, but they obviously wanted space from her, why else would they ignore her these past few days. Just then, she heard talking coming from inside the house, and it was making its way towards the front door, and out of panic she hid. The door swung open and Archie came out first, and he looked sad. Jughead came next, looking the same way, and Y/Ns heart dropped.

    “It sucks that we have to do this.” Archie said, opening his side of the car.

    “I-it hurts that we have to do this.” Jughead replied, getting into the car and Archie followed.

    “I know Jughead, it hurts us all that we have to do this.” Archie said. “Maybe today will be the day. First stop though, gas station, and the hospital.” And with that, Archie closed the door to his car, started it, and they drove off.

    ‘Why the hospital?’ Y/N thought to herself. Closing her eyes, she did her best to remember what might have happened next, sure she got attacked but maybe she was missing something.

____

    “Y/N! Y/N can you hear me?” Jugheads voice rang through her head, hurting it more than it already did. She barely opened her eyes, looking up to see the beanie clad boys face stained with tears, worry written all over him. “Come on, please say something! Let me know you’re alright!” She went to go speak, opening her mouth slightly and tried to tell him she was hurt but not to worry, but no words came out. Her head started to throb again, the pain becoming even more unbearable than before, and she started to slip into the blackness again.

    “Archie?” Jugheads voice yelled through his phone. “Get out here and help me with Y/N, someone attacked her!” Y/N could barely hear Jugheads voice now, slowly, she was fading although she tried so hard not to. “What do you mean ‘what do you mean she was attacked’? She was hit over the head with something, the person who did it ran off and now she’s bleeding all over the place!” Y/N could hear the panic in Jugheads voice, and she could also tell he was fighting back tears and anger. He didn’t mean to be angry at Archie, he just wasn’t listening nor being all that smart in this situation.

    “She isn’t responding, please, Arch just get out here and help me take her to your car, we don’t have time to argue! And call Kevin and his dad, they need to get police down here as well, see if they can find the man who did this!” Jughead pleaded, breaking down into more tears. Archie must have agreed because Jughead threw his phone down on the ground and went right back for Y/N, running his hand over her hair, and grabbing her hand. “You’re going to be fine, okay? I’ll make sure you make it, but you have to help me out. I don’t know if you can hear me, but you’re not allowed to die, you’re not allowed to leave me. I need you, Y/N, and I know I’ve never told you this but I love you.” Y/N could feel the pull of death, or sleep, she couldn’t tell which one, all she knew was that she was fading, and Jugheads words rang in her head. Everything went silent, everything went dark.

____

   “Is she in there?’ Y/N heard Jughead ask, and she opened her eyes and found herself in the middle of a waiting room. A nurse dressed in teal scrubs nodded and Jughead and Archie started to make their way to the room, but the nurse stopped them.

    “You can’t go in right now, the doctor is in there. If you take a seat and wait a few moments, I can call you over when its time.” The nurse suggested, and the two boys nodded and walked to some chairs, taking a seat. Y/N though was curious to see who had also gotten hurt, maybe Kevin or one of the police officers had gotten hurt trying to find the man who attacked her, maybe it was even one of their friends. Either way, she had to see, she had to find out who was in that room, they could answer a few questions for her. Slowly, she snuck over into the hallway where the door was and slipped in through the door, quietly closing it behind her. She took one glance at the hospital bed and froze.

    ‘This can’t be. This is impossible.’ She thought to herself, willing herself to move towards the bed. There she was, laying in a hospital bed, wires patches stuck in and on her, she looked…dead. But she was alive, she had to be, she had been walking and watching everyone for days. Y/N couldn’t be the one in the bed because she was standing beside it. ‘I’m dreaming. I have to be dreaming.’

    “She’s still sleeping, but you’re welcome to stick around if you’d like.” The nurse from earlier said, swinging the door open and letting Jughead and Archie in. Jughead walked sorrowfully to the bed, standing right beside Y/N, the ‘awake’ one.

    “Do you think she’ll wake up?” Archie asked, and the nurse gave an apologetic look towards the two boys and the girl.

    “The doctor doesn’t think so, she has major head trauma. He thinks she’ll be in a coma for awhile.” She said, and Archie nodded his head, not really wanting to hear any more. “I’m sorry boys.” And with that, the nurse left. Jughead and Archie sat by the girls side in silence for a long time, the rain from outside spilling against the window, and the thunder and beeping machines were the only noises that filled the room. Y/N stood beside them, staring down at her sleeping body. No wonder everyone was ignoring her, she wasn’t even awake.

    ‘This is some supernatural shit.’ She thought to herself, waving her hand in front of the two boys faces. ‘I didn’t even know this was possible, this is the weirdest thing ever.’ Y/N slowly started reaching for her hand, and softly went to touch it. Right as real skin hit her… ghost skin? What even was she? Either way, right as she touched her real hand, she started to feel dizzy, the world around her spun, and she noticed as her real self started to wake. Her head moved side from side, and her breathing started to become ore audible. She quickly pulled her hand back, and everything returned to normal, well not normal per say, but she wasn’t dizzy.

    “I need you to wake up.” Jughead whispered, breaking the silence of the room. “Please, I need you to wake up. I need you with me, don’t leave me.” Archie placed his hand on Jugheads back, trying to comfort his hurting friend. “I love you, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing that the last things you heard me say to you were to leave.” He was crying now, and Y/N felt her heart drop.

    Did she even want to wake up though, honestly. Life was hard for her, being 16 and living alone. Depression was a bitch, and anxiety made it even worse for her, and as much as she would deny it, she felt as if she needed her blood family to get through all of this shit that was going on, but she didn’t have them. She made the choice to leave, she decided she was going to be better off without them and she was wrong. Sure her friends were practically her new family, but were they going to be enough, would they leave her? She sat on the edge of the hospital bed, looking down at her sleeping self and she was worried about what would happen if she decided to wake up.  

  She glanced from her sleeping figure to the two boys who were standing by her side, looking sorrowfully down at her, she couldn’t leave them, could she? They obviously cared for her, and they wanted her to come back, who was she to willfully leave them? She wouldn’t be able to do that to them, they also had shit going on in their lives, and it seemed like they needed her, she helped them and they helped her. She noticed now that Archie was crying as well, but Jughead hadn’t realized it because he was crying so heavily himself. She couldn’t stand to see them like this, she had to come back. Time was only time, it passes and so do situations, all of these things that were bothering her now could be but a memory in a few years, and she could have a chance to be happy. Jugheads head fell onto the sleeping girls stomach, and she reached for the hand by his head. Grabbing it, her world started to spin again, and the girl in the beds head started to move, and again she started to wake up. Her head started to pound, but she pushed through the pain, she’d be alright soon.

    Y/Ns eyes slowly fluttered open and she felt a weight on her stomach, which she remembered was Jugheads head. She took her hand and placed it on Jugheads head, to which he shot up and looked at her, and she took her other hand and reached it out to Archie. The redheaded boy quickly took it, and Jughead took her other one, the two of them now crying of happiness.

   “Jughead?” her voice came out coarse and rough. “Archie?”

    “I’m here! Thank god you’re awake!” Archie said, a sigh of relief leaving his being.

    “Thank you for waking up, thank you so much. I love you Y/N, and I’m so sorry.” Jughead said, kissing her hand.

    “Betty! Get Veronica, Kevin and Cheryl and come down to the hospital, she woke up!” Archie yelled excitedly through his phone, and Y/N smiled. She had made the right decision to come back.


@do-not-call-me-sunshine@gelattoes@xbobaaa@katshrev@farmfreshcoldsprouts@sgarrett49@always-chocolate@nadya0128@vegaslodgeprimary@rainbows-and-glitter-bitch@lost-in-wonderland-x@aezthetically@mrs-jughead-jones @nafa1604 @moonlight53 @mydelightfulcollectiontyphoon

Title: Teenage Rebellion
Fandom: Stranger Things
Characters: Jonathan Byers x Reader
Reader Gender: Female
Word Count: 1,355
Warnings: Some swearing, mentions of bullying
Notes: Based on a request from an anon for “Could you do a Jonathan Byers fic with the prompt ‘I always hide in this one stairwell whenever I’m having a mental breakdown / existential crisis / etc but today when I came here you were already there’ Thank you!”

Originally posted by therealspideyman

Jonathan Byers had grown very accustomed to people whispering about him, often pointing and giggling amongst themselves as they did so. Because of this, it didn’t bother him when a few of his peers began gossiping about him – until he heard his mother’s and brother’s names come up.

“I still don’t think that Will Byers ever really went missing. That freak show of a family probably just wanted to land some paid interviews or something.”

I think the mom is a bit of a schizo. She probably just had a psychotic break and made the whole thing up.”

Jonathan could hear the teacher yelling after him as he left the room. He knew that if he had to sit there and listen to those idiots for another second, he’d have ended up getting suspended. The teachers would undoubtedly be looking for him, so he went to the one place he knew they’d never check.

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x | (m)

Originally posted by sugagifs

• pairing: min yoongi x reader
• genre/warnings: smuut, oral, fingering, slight dirty talk, light orgasm denial, double stimulation?? sin, sin and more sin
• words: 3,475
summary: in which yoongi comes home late and misses you, waking you up from your slumber just to show you how much
• note. inspired by this song here and, also named after it. This fucked me up tenfold, I need to vent

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concentrate + mgc

(gif made by @luketivist)

>synopsis ~ u lose ur vibrator somewhere in the apartment u share with roommate!michael, and he kinda wont mind helping u out((;
>requested ~ yess @mioety gave me this awesome prompt i love it a lot
>word count ~ 2936
> a/n ~ idk why this turned so fluffy towards the end but who cares
requests are sent in here // masterlist

With your leggings pushed off your legs, you lay on your floor, rummaging through one of the boxes you set aside beneath your desk. You took things out, then set them back in, proceeding to check three times in case you missed it the first or second time. Sitting up on your knees, you pushed your hair from your face, and tapered your eyes across the room, swearing under your breath. It must’ve been somewhere, although in its defence, you hadn’t used it in a good two months. Standing up, you walked to the other side of your room, swinging open the cabinet in the alcove, you bent down, taking out every pair of underwear you kept, and groaning when, of course, it still wasn’t there. Slamming the cabinet shut, you approached your door, pulling it open and slipping into the corridor.

Michael, fortunately, was out to finish the last tracks for his band’s new album, and told you to not wait up for dinner seeing as they planned to celebrate afterwards. He insisted you to come, but you very much needed a night alone, which so far went well – up to the point where you misplaced your vibrator. Now, you were pacing around the apartment, your hair still wet from the bath, and only a buttoned up night shirt over your underwear. Sighing, you peer over the threshold of the bathroom and stepped in, opening up your cabinet beneath the sink. After many petty arguments about whose razor was whose, you and Michael both decided to have separate cabinets – his above the sink, and yours below.

You pushed everything in your way to the side – pads, wax strips, hair removal cream, shower gels – in vain hopes that the vibrator would be somewhere behind them. Although you knew you wouldn’t have kept it in a place where your roomate could find it, you still checked everywhere in the bathroom to make sure. You didn’t need him to know the sordid details of your privacy, just as you didn’t need to know his, either. The tightness in your stomach grew, and you sat yourself down. The wetness between your thighs was too much of a distraction for you to concentrate on anything else.

Entering the living room, you slumped across the sofa, tugging up your legs, and rubbing your thumb over your forehead. Where could it be? Your clit pulsed beneath your underwear, but you refused to take them off. Not unless you found your vibrator. You knew you couldn’t make yourself feel as good just with your fingers – it just wasn’t something you were good at. Every moment you tried pushing it away, the ball knotted in your stomach deepened into your heat. Huffing, you pushed your hair from your eyes, and tried switching on the TV. Your fingers trembled and your head whirled. You couldn’t remember a time your body was begging as much as this.

When you heard the lock on the front door click, you weren’t even bothered to hide your naked legs. You lay there, your gaze meeting Michael’s as he walked into the apartment. He stopped taking off his jacket midway, and stared at you, eyebrows furrowed as he tried figuring out what happened. Of course, you looked like a mess – no pants, your hair still wet, and an unamused expression washed over your face.

He laughed. “You okay?”

“No.” You crossed your arms, and averted your attention to the TV. An old rerun of Pretty Little Liars was playing on the low volume.

Shaking his head, he hooked up his jacket and joined you on the couch, pushing your legs out of the way so he had room. Unfazed by seeing you half naked, he snatched the remote out of your hand and changed the channel. You stared at him, and considered kicking him off the sofa so you could reclaim your taken space. Shrinking into your corner, you pulled your knees up beneath your chin.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, not looking away from the TV.

Heat rose up your neck; you touched your cheek with the back of your hand – warm. “I lost something.”

You watched his Adam’s apple move beneath his throat, and found yourself staring at his lips. Bloomed with red, and parted perfectly enough to take a sip of the beer he brought into the apartment. Any other day, you would’ve been paranoid he would spill it somewhere, but that evening, all you could see was how good his mouth looked smeared with alcohol – shiny and wet. You looked away when he met your gaze, an eyebrow raised, and a teasing shimmer in his eyes.

“It’s rude to stare,” he said, and chuckled. “What have you lost? I can take a look for it.”

Bewildered, you sat up, shaking your head. “No, it’s… it’d be weird if I asked you to look for it.”

“Why? I can help.” He leaned over and set the beer can down while you watched the muscles of his back flex. You had to stop, you told yourself, but couldn’t bring yourself to shake out how good he looked in his tank. You could see a strip of skin showing through the arm hole that dipped all the way down to his waist. He faced you. “You’re always losing things, anyway.”

You blushed harder, considering to tell him. “It’s…”

“It’s…?” He regarded you expectantly.

You breathed in, and glanced out the window, not meeting his eyes. Running your fingers up your leg, you curled your toes over the sofa. “I lost my vibrator.”

Silence lapsed over you both, until it cracked with his subdued chuckle. His lack of composure made you stare at him, and he held both arms up in defence. Before he could say anything, you beat him to it.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You laughed.”

“Was I not meant to?”

Sending him a glare, you swung your legs off the sofa and stood, stalking out of the living room and across the corridor. You knew you shouldn’t have told him, it would end in humility on your end. Unsure whether you could even look him in the eye, you locked yourself in the bathroom, and remained with your hand on either side of the sink and lifting your gaze to your reflection in the mirror. You pushed your messy hair from your forehead and ran your thumb down to your bottom lip, staring at how flushed they’d become beneath the self-inflicted bite marks you left on them. Your shirt sagged down your shoulder, and you could’ve been mistaken from coming fresh out of a room full of sweaty sex, when it was really the opposite. Slamming your hands on the sink, you groaned, turning around and opening the bathroom door. Michael was waiting in the corridor for you, and looked up when he saw you come out.

“You’re not angry with me, right?” he asked gently, and you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and casting your eyes to the ground. His voice was deep and raspy, and you unwillingly thought of what else he could say, how close he could be to you… Surprised to have such thoughts about your roommate, you advanced into your bedroom without a response, but he caught you by the wrist. “I’m sorry for – fuck, this is so stupid – I’m sorry for teasing you.”

Smiling, you twisted your wrist around. “I’m not angry with you.”

He tugged at your arm gently. “Look at me.”

Obliging, you turned around, faced with his breath gliding across the slant of your nose, and the faintness of his cologne teasing you a little closer. You couldn’t bare to lift your eyes to his, because you knew what they’d read – you knew they’d be spilling with curiousity of what could’ve possibly had you so worked up to submit to telling him what you lost. You couldn’t bare to meet his gaze because you knew with one look, you were gone, and you would be melting into his hands and telling him every sordid thought that passed your mind as your hand passed your heat. He was near to you, near enough to inhale the scent behind your ear. When his hand reached up and into the curve of your neck, he brushed his thumb across the shiny skin on your cheekbone. For the first time in your life, you found yourself shy in front of Michael Clifford.

Pulling the hem of your shirt down, you tried covering your cold thighs, stepping only a little nearer towards him. You could hear him breathe in, and watched his Adam’s apple bob. You tilted your head up, whispering, “don’t make me want you. I’m so ready for anything, I could let you take me in this corridor.”

Your heart beat sped up at your own words, and you anticipated his response.

The sound of his mouth moving as he spoke rose hairs all over your arms. “I hate hearing you play with yourself. I hate it. I hate it, because it’s the proof another pair of fingers are making you cum that aren’t mine.”

His hand slipped away from your face, and flattened over your collarbones, making their way down to the slope of your breast. You bit your lip, and laced your fingers into his shirt, while his caught onto your nipple above your clothes. The TV remained humming from downstairs, and the wind blew in through the open windows. Everything tangled around you both, standing in the corridor while you passed every boundary you set up when you first moved in. He groaned into your hair when his palm moved around to settle between your legs, feeling how you soaked well into your underwear.

Gripping one of your thighs, he mumbled, “jump up, for me.” And when you did, your legs were wrapped around his waist, his hands going under to hold you up, and he was walking you into your bedroom.

Your back hit the mattress, but you didn’t release his hips. He kissed you, and hard at that, his lips finding yours for a moment you could pin down to the point of when your nerves begun soaring for him. He settled between your legs and steadied your hips, smiling down at you, and loving the way your lips pulsed as his mark on you. You ran your hands over his shoulders, trying to familiarise yourself with the body you’d wanted to touch for so long. You remembered all the nights where you tossed and turned with your vibrator running over your clit, consumed with the thought of him. He parted your legs, pulling you onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Fuck,” you said, feeling the denim of his jeans graze your core when he took your underwear off. “God, I can’t believe this. I’m soaking your pants.”

“I’m not complaining, sweetheart.” He attempted to move you to unbutton them, until he was met by a whimper leaving your mouth as you ground against him. His fingers tickled the bottom of your spine. “Baby, do you wanna ride my thigh? Hmm?”

Regarding him, you balanced your hands on his waist. “I need you.”

“Is that so?” He rose an eyebrow. “You have me.”

“No, no, no,” you trailed a hand down to his crotch, feeling how warm he was as his member was a bump beneath your palm. “I need this.”

Chuckling, he cupped your fist, draping your arm over his shoulder. You blushed fiercely, the proximity between the two of you still taking you by surprise. His mouth was warm when he kissed you again, his tongue finding your bottom lip, then his teeth. Nervously, you kissed down his jaw, unsure what he liked, but hoping he didn’t mind. His grip fell on your hips, and let you slide over the denim on his jeans, a gasp tearing through your lips as the friction sent a burst of shock through you.

“Is that okay, Y/N?” he mumbled into the crown of your head, and you nodded, apprehending the next moment impatiently. “I love how you sound, baby.”

Your cheek pressed against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut when he reached down and rubbed your clit himself. The pad of his finger was callused, and you wanted to drown in the feeling of having the heel of his hand press into your waist with him making you feel better than you could’ve done in all the time you had. He traced the tip of his finger across you, coating it in your own wetness and circling the small bud, a leap of delight causing you to flinch and hold him tighter against your body. Your hips were drifting off his lap, giving him more space to make you feel good.

“Fuck,” you said, lips mumbling over his tank top. “What are you doing to me, Michael? It’s like you know my body better than I ever did.”

He slid his finger down to your core, biting his lip and gripping your hips when he felt you inhale deeply. “I’d do anything to make you feel good.”

Tilting your head up, you caught his mouth in a kiss, and he lay down on the bed, keeping your legs split across his waist. Feeling yourself blush under his gaze, you lifted his top, the skin of his belly soft and supple underneath your hands. Pushing the tank all the way up, you let him take it off, then proceed to unbutton your shirt. You shared a nervous laugh when his bracelet caught onto one of them, and his warm hand was pressed against your chest as he tried unhooking himself from you. Smiling, you unknotted the loop, and shrugged of your shirt, leaning over him with your naked chest on his.

“It feels like I’ve done this before,” he murmured as you unzipped his jeans. “This doesn’t feel awkward or strange – you feel like home.”

Your futile attempt at hiding a smile made him kiss you – not hard, nor lustful, but with an unspoken amount of love neither of you had ever admitted to each other. The love that he denied when he woke up and saw you making breakfast, or the love that you denied when he came home from a long day and felt happy to be around him again. You both shared tokens of love that were small enough to be ignored by anybody else, but neither of you ignored them. You pretended the feelings didn’t exist, but all of them did. Every single one. You reached up, lacing your fingers with his.

“You’ve always felt like home,” you told him, and sat up, running your finger along the skin above his underwear line. “I need you.”

His eyes lifted to yours, and he smiled, repeating his words the last time you said that. “You have me.”

Catching your bottom lip between your teeth, you tugged his underwear down, his member growing in your hand. You pumped him, collecting his precum on your thumb and his body trembling as he groaned, taking your free hand and kissing the back of it. His cock was hard already, but you wanted to make sure he felt as wonderful as you did when you were in his grip. You picked up your pace, but he quickly grabbed you wrist.

“I don’t want to cum just yet.” Sitting up, he tugged you closer to him. “I want to cum inside you.”

Sighing in relief, you ran your hands up his length one more time, lifting your hips and trailing his tip along your slit, which was wet from your arousal. He swore, watching you in your actions. He licked his middle finger and ran it across your clit, catching you by surprise and turning you on more than you thought you could. He filled you up, and you both moaned, his grasp on your hand tightening when you clenched around him. His palm went to your waist, helping you ride him and leaning in to kiss you.

“Michael,” you said softly on his mouth, “you feel better than I could ever imagine.”

“I could say the same for you.” He bucked his hips up, and emitted a cracked whine. “Jesus Christ, I’m so close. Already. I’ve barely even touched you.”

You shake your head, quickening your pace and making him reel in surprise. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach, and you tense up, nails digging into his thighs and he grabbed you, pulling you close and whispering into your ear.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Can you feel that, baby? Can you feel me throbbing in you?”

“God, I’m gonna cum.”

He rutted his hips onto yours, going in deep. “Cum for me, baby.”

A few moments later, your held him close to you, breathing him in and trying your best to root yourself, but you couldn’t. The orgasm washed over you hard, and you trembled, feeling the muscles in his stomach tighten as he joined you, the remains of his climax running down your thighs. You fell on top of him, unable to find the strength to get up. He played with your hair, catching his breath and pulling the duvet over your shoulders. You could barely open your eyes.

“Don’t want you getting cold,” he said, and you laughed gently. “Did that feel good?”

You nodded. “Amazing. Thank you.”

He kissed your head, through your hair, and exhaled. “Anything for you. Anything.”

(NSFW) Submit and Surrender - Jumin Han

A/N - This is based loosely off the bad end, so expect some of the themes that are apparent in the CG. 

Tagging: @angel0sh, @lou-the-mudkip, @suzunesays, @honeybeelily, @nitelotus, @overlyattachedbookworm, @guardiasedocetes, @ozziescribbles, @yabokkuuu, @nordicicequeen, @jocdh, @toukach@drawingpanda04, @introverted-me , @marie-chu, @an-ambivalent, @saewalk, @catchthespade, @ani99812, @charlotte–chan, @ask-doctor-hannibal-lecter, @rialynkv, @lyricsoflindita, @akechimitsuhidevevo, @alysania, @treasurehan, @kawaiimii, @b2stsb2uty333, @shiorilovesnippon, @button-kitty, @otomezing, @the-kawaiiasian, @emmadeath, @carinecaldre69, @endless-sis, @darkvanixity

Apologies if I’ve missed anyone out - it’s a long list as you can see xD

‘Don’t forget.’ Jumin pressed in on you, your bodies touching inch for inch, the warmth between you growing hot. ‘….We are in love.’ 

There was a silence that followed, a stillness that seemed to teeter on a strained edge. Your breaths were slow but heated, the soft rush of air as it passed your lips the only noise in the room. 

‘…Aren’t we?’ he breathed. There was a fading restraint to his tone…as if he had been tightly coiled up until this moment, as if whatever he had been winding was now beginning to come loose….

‘We are…’ you said, your voice coming out low and husky as small shivers ran down your spine…..like continual reminders that you were about to walk an unfamiliar path. 

‘That’s my good girl.’ Jumin murmured, slowly running the back of his finger down your cheek. ‘…But words are just words. I need you to show me. To trust me,’ he leant in, his breath caressing the shell of your ear. ‘…To submit to me.

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