this would be the last time they touch

Bughead Fic: Serpent Princess

Summary: After a drugs raid on Southside High, most of the teenage Serpents are arrested and given jail time, but not Betty Cooper. Not even the police would touch the Serpent Princess. Southside High is closed down and she is forced to attend Riverdale High, where she expects nothing but hypocritical northsiders, but then she meets a blue-eyed beanie-wearing boy with Southside roots.

A/N: Just a fluffy oneshot because you guys seemed to like my last one:) 

word count. 1930
masterlist
ao3

Betty Cooper listened to the satisfying click of her black heeled boots against the tiled floor as she strutted down the hall of Riverdale High, drawing the attention from everyone around her. Her black leather jacket clung to her like a second skin, moulding seductively to the curve of her breasts and hips, and the emerald green snake symbol on the back glared at the other students around her, like she had a second pair of eyes. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, and her bright green eyes were framed by heavy black eyeliner and thick lashes. Those same eyes glowered around the hallway, making the teenagers around her avert their gaze as she stormed by. Everyone knew to stay away from Betty Cooper. She was the Serpent Princess and she was dangerous.

Today, on her first day at Riverdale High, Betty was pissed off. Most if her friends from Southside High had been arrested in the recent drug raid on the school, prompted by Mayor McCoy’s horror at discovering that her not-so-perfect daughter Josie had been buying drugs from Southside students, and some were even serving jail-time. Betty had only just escaped arrest, partly because she wasn’t stupid enough to store drugs in her locker, but also because she was Serpent royalty. Not even the police would cross her mother, Alice Cooper, the leader of Riverdale’s most notorious gang.

The school had been closed down as a result and the students were forced to continue their studies in the neighbouring town, but not Betty. Due to her home address being reasonably close to the Northside border, Betty was eligible to attend Riverdale High and she couldn’t think of a better revenge than to pollute the school with Serpent ‘scum’. She hated the attitude of The Northside of Riverdale, appointing themselves as the moral superiors and making it their ‘duty’ to save the town from the corrupt, drug-dealing Southside. She was bad for their perfect all-American image, and she relished in it.

Betty yanked open the door to her locker, which was completely empty, and began unloading the contents of her bag onto the bare shelves; books, photographs of her and Toni Topaz, cigarettes. The photos of her and her pink-haired best-friend filled her with a renewed sense of anger. Toni was doing six months in a juvenile detention centre for a drug trade that the Serpents were barely involved in. The jingle jangle that was taking Riverdale by storm was being dealt by The Ghoulies, not that the authorities cared.

“Betty Cooper I assume?” an unfamiliar voice asked, interrupting her train of thought. Betty turned around and frowned as her eyes took in the image of a stereotypical teenage football player. He was tall and broad shouldered with red hair and he was wearing a classic letterman jacket, probably swoon-worthy to most girls, but not Betty. He was flanked either side by two other football players that looked like clones of each other.

“That depends, who’s asking” she replied measuredly, crossing her arms across her chest defensively.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

did you notice that among others routes asra is... mmmm less forward in his advances. maybe it's just his character but all i can think about that he is just waiting for the other shoe to drop. who knows how many times this scenario repeated. i imagine at this point he's one big bundle of anxiety wondering what touch or word would be the last straw and send mc into a relapse 😢

oh god no my child my heart my reason for being, asra is so-so-so a bundle of nerves, and it kills me so good. he’s definitely waiting for the other shoe to drop, and everyday just brings new and terrifying ways for that shoe to stomp right on his heart.

like, he’s spent years with mc–IN L O V E WITH THEM–and he took care of them at their lowest. like, being a caregiver to someone who can’t even speak is an ENORMOUSLY demanding job, it’s soul-sucking and thankless, and doing it for someone you care about it one of life’s evilest experiences. 

and asra did it!!! without needing asked!! without expecting anything in return!!

and in those years, can you imagine how closely he had to monitor himself?? like, discovering what might trigger the mc’s headaches and avoiding the hell out of them. trying again and again to get them back (”breaking” them!! asra you were trying to help!!), and coming up with new, different ways to get their memory back. 

and finally reaching a point where he had to take a step back and say enough is enough and strengthen both himself and the mc before he asked them to try again.

good god and asra’s just so supportive, even when his heart’s getting broken. julian dumped the mc? shit-talk julian a little, and worry about the apprentice first. catch nadia and mc making in their bed at the shop? don’t make it weird, roll with it and make it a funny experience. mc falls in love with muriel? HAPPILY OFFICIATE THE FUCKING WEDDING.

asra arcanagame is a fucking hero, and everyday we’re blessed with asra’s light.

Keith Kogan: A Portrayal of Homosexuality Done Right

I always tell people that Voltron is a lot more clever than it gets credit for. It can spin a cliche/trope on it’s head beautifully, and while all the characters are easily digestible archetypes (i.e: the nerd, the loner), the creators add layers to them that not only make them feel like real people, but also makes social commentary on those very archetypes.

In no better way do they do this than with the character of Keith.

Before I get into how and why Keith deviates from you’re typical gay male protagonist, I want to establish as a fact that Keith is homosexual.

If you don’t see - what I consider to be - blatant evidence that Keith’s gay, well, I can’t say I blame you. Most people have ingrained heteronormative lenses, meaning they’ll miss the subtext of homosexual characters. Us in the LGBT community are much more attuned to seeing these because, well, for one, we’re queer, and two, because up until around the 1960s, the portrayal of gay characters in the media was illegal and could only be shown subtextually.

So it makes sense that people overlook the very nuanced portrayal of Keith’s sexuality, but if you’re willing to take off those lenses, it’s certainly there.

The first standout appearance of this is in season 1 episode 6: Taking Flight. Or as I like to call it, the day the shows name officially changed to Gaytron: Legendary Homosexuals

I think one of the disconnects for some viewers is that they don’t completely grasp the saying, “Show don’t tell,” the mantra of pretty much every writer. Not always, but typically, showing is better than telling. Or more accurately, telling needs to be used at the correct times and for the right reasons.

So how do they show us that Keith’s gay in this episode? Through three things, body language, actions, and juxtaposition.

You don’t have to be a body language specialist to understand the clear meaning behind Keith’s posture. Leaning, looking someone up and down, and a small, lingering smile/smirk are all subconscious signs of attraction. They’re also common ways of depicting male attraction in the media.

Speaking of depicting male attraction, lets look at how Lance’s flirts in the same episode.

Leaning. Check. Lingering smile. Check. Engaged eye contact. Check. The biggest difference is how blatant they are in their intentions, but that comes down to pure character difference. Keith is self assured and more genuinely confident. He also has a lot of walls up and isn’t so open. While Lance puts on a show/over compensates so that he might appear cool. You can also see this in their respective ‘I’m-checking-you-out’ postures. Lance’s body is open, he’s engaged and his eyes are on Nyma’s eyes. While Keith’s posture is interested, but more in an appreciative way. His body is closed off, and instead of looking Rolo in the eyes, he looks at his - um - physique. This is really fitting for Keith’s character, who again, has walls, and who also puts this mission first, and most likely has no intention of letting this attraction lead to anything other than having a nice piece of eye candy around for a couple of hours.

This is textbook juxtaposition. So moving along now.

I don’t want this to be a shippy post, so I won’t add all the times I think Keith shows attraction towards Lance, but I do want to mention this scene.

The use of the rainbow(the most recognizable symbol in the gay community) over lapping the bi flag colors is relevant for the same reason why the use of purple to symbolize the Galra is relevant. Purple represents royalty, imperialism, but also gloom and danger. The use of these colors and symbols are conscious choices.

While the above scene shows that Keith is attracted to men, this scene shows that Keith is also not attracted to woman.

What I love about this scene is that it’s such a cliche, and like I said up above, Voltron is good at turning those on their head. Here they utilize the tiered and true trope of accidentally falling into each others arms. If this was a hetero-centric Romcom than this moment would’ve been obviously meant to establish attraction, but instead, it does the opposite. Rather Keith personally likes Allura or not, she’s a knock out. So, if he’s attracted to women at all, and isn’t use to having that contact- which hes not - he should be at least somewhat shocked/flustered. If it had been an attractive guy that fell into Keith’s arms, I have no doubt that his reactions would be something beyond that blank stare. Considering he literally gasps every time Lance touches him

The last piece of “evidence” I want to show isn’t as blatant and may just be my perspective, but it’s worth mentioning.

The themes of Keith’s Galra arc are very reminiscent to coming out. He’s discovering parts of himself. He’s internalizing and hiding away said parts. He’s scared of what the people he cares about will think of him when they find out. If this is intentional, it’s brilliant, because while Voltron is set in a futurist world where sexuality is supposedly not an Issue, it still is for the youth of today. Meaning by having these similar themes, Keith becomes more relatable to LGBT people.

This is the part where, if you still don’t think Keith’s gay, I’ll have to calmly yet firmly ask you to get off my fucking lawn. For the rest of you, onward to victory!!!

LGBT individuals have a history of being badly represented in the media, especially now that gay characters have become a marketing strategy for a more progressive consumer base. Their whole character is often reduced to stereotypes or used as a giant walking gay pride flag that reads: look at us, we’re hip and with the times. Meaning, the majority of these characters plots and personalities are based solely on their sexuality. Which is a problem, because not only does it not help to normalize homosexuality, but it’s just not relatable to LGBT people.

I’ll give you an example. My mom’s a lesbian. She married to a woman and has two daughters, one who is trans and one who is bi. But despite how “gay"her life may seem, she very rarely describes herself as that way. She’s not active in LGBT issues. She doesn’t involve herself in the community. Shes not lesbian first and everything else afterward, and she is certainly not alone in that experience. Don’t get me wrong, LGBT individuals are more aware of their sexuality than cishet people, but it’s typically only because others point it out and remind us that its not "normal.” Still, for a lot of LGBT people, our sexuality is just one part of our personal narrative, not the whole damn book.

Another problem with LGBT representations is that their often just built off of stereotypes. Gay men are feminized and their sexuality is typically made the butt of a joke. They are shown as being promiscuous and having commitment issues. These are the standards.

But Keith abolishes all of those, and in such a seamless way too.

While Keith’s character is in no way excessively macho, he’s certainly not feminine either. He doesn’t mind getting sweaty. He’s temperamental and has anger issue. He lived a pretty low maintenance life in a desert shack, sleeps in his jeans like a heathen, and probably uses a dagger to peel oranges. Keith is a masculine character. He’s confident and self assured, but not vain. He’s emotional, but in a very private way. Whereas many other portrayal of gay men depict them as almost theatrically sensitive, confident, but only in their sexual prowess, and self absorbed, but only when it come to their looks and not when it comes to their skills.

This is already an impressive deviation, but what really makes Keith’s portrayal stand out is the way his sexuality is but a mere footnote in what makes his character his character, and how that fits into his personality and story arc so well.

The first thing you have to realize about Keith is that, while he certainly wants to connect with people, it’s not his number one priority. He has barriers. He fears rejection, and despite wanting to feel as if he belongs, its not hard to see how Keith has been conditioned to assume he’ll inevitability be left behind, and therefore places personal relationships low on his list of priorities. Meaning, yes, he was checking out Rolo, and yes, I believe that he’s very very fond of Lance, but I can’t imagine that Keith really sees these relationships becoming something substantial or romantic, and thus doesn’t put too much effort into perusing them. You can really tell what’s important to a character by what they focus their time on. Take Lance for instance, he’s a character who blatantly cares about friendships and has no problem openly flirting. That’s not to say Lance doesn’t care about the war, just like Keith’s reluctance to pursue meaningful bonds doesn’t mean he doesn’t want them. It just means that relationships and love obviously mean a lot to Lance.

So what does Keith focus on? Well, he shows the most focus on relationships in season one, when the connections he had with his makeshift family was the post pressing thing going on. (You cant really form Voltron if you don’t connect with the other members) But after season one, with all the changes Keith goes through, we see a big shift in his priorities. First he finds out about his heritage, then Shiro disappears and he is thrust into leadership, and then most recently, he joins the Blade.

By framing Keith’s character like this, it allows the creators to make his sexuality natural and relatable in a very interesting way. Because as LGBT people know, our sexuality isn’t the most important part of our lives. Just like Keith, we have more to focus on.

That’s not to say that his sexuality will never be shown explicitly. Like I said, I don’t want to get too shippy, but I truly believe that Laith is endgame. So if and when that happens, his sexuality will naturally come into play. Sadly, their will be a lot of people who call it forced because they missed the subtext and are use to seeing gay characters depicted more as spectacles than real people.

Voltron has really done something special here. They’ve create a universe where sexuality isn’t an issue, and they make it believable by never bringing it up outside of naturally occurring, unforced, appropriate context. Even better, because the Voltron universe is so vastly different than our own, it would’ve been easy to make LGBT characters that we couldn’t relate to, but they don’t. They manage this so well that I honestly can’t phantom Keith’s sexuality being anything but homosexual despite the fact it’s never been explicitly shown.

But most importantly, they’re creating a higher standard for LGBT representation. They are normalizing it on a show aimed towards children who are heavily influenced by the media they consume.


That, my friends, is worth applauding.

THE GUIDE TO BTS FANS: TYPES OF ARMYs !!!

The new comers: Guys HALP! Why are they slapping each others’ butts? 

The inspectors: Yes judging from his shadow it is Jimin in the BS&T era and judging from V’s Gucci slippers it was taken the second week of december of last year #TrueStory. 

The  theorists: They sold their souls to the evil to understand BIGHIT’s Bullsh*t.

The fanwar soldiers: Don’t start an argument with them, they have loads of clap-backs ready and are as savage as yoongi.

The shippers: “OMG their pinky fingers touched ME DEAD”. they gathered more proof about their ship than the FBI would ever.

The aristocrat: No I am not like those basic, crazy fangirls. *She/He is*.

The bias ho*s: Changes a bias on every comeback, but no one can blame her… We have loads of those btw

The content makers: The last time they slept was when BTS had a hiatus aka never.

The promoters: If you are a liiittle bit known in the interweb. Don’t you EVER DARE use the word “BTS” or your comment section will turn into “You should check BTS out, they are very talented, they can sing and dance, plz collab …”.

The broke: Considers water a meal after spending all the money on anything BigSnake throw at them.

The poors:  feed their passion through fancams and salty tears.

The delusional: If I was in korea my bias would have fallen for me. *flips hair*. “Beach he is taken” said the shippers.

The youtubers: React to BTS mainly for views but tell us they are fans.  

The FAKE fans: If you see “I used to like BTS but …” It is them. Stay away! the fanwar soldiers will take care of them.

The dancers/singers: They shoot vdeos everywhere and it turns out either super cool or super cringy. there is no in between

The seasonals: They know two things about BTS: their names and main tracks. They appear twice a year when BTS have a comeback. 

The horny: Dangerously reads smut in public. Gets horny over the weirdest body parts “Look at Jungkook’s elbow bone SHOKE ME daddy”

The fansites: If you see someone with a latter and a high definition camera that can probably shoot the aliens on Mars running in an airport. It is them! Their favorite color is white as they looooove turning BTS into A4-white papers.   

The basic fans: Are here mainly for the music/dancing. Always educating and judging all the above. They start all their sentences by “DON’Tbecause *insert BTS human rights*” 

I hope I didn’t forget anyone ^^ Gotta love our fandom!
By @mimibtsghost

Exordia Academy (Master List)

It’s 1980′s middle-of-nowhere, and Exordia Academy is full of its most talented class of students yet. Whether you’re looking for a place to hone your skills, develop or just fit in – there’s something for everyone within our hallowed halls. Class is in session.

Originally posted by jonginssoo


Jongin. Knowledge Absorption. Jongin was very young, when he learned to stay silent. When he learned his knowledge was alienating, his genius a burden. He learned early, knowing too much makes others fearful, since people (ironically enough) tend to fear the unknown. Until Jongin finds you. You, as it turns out, are something much more difficult to understand. 

One Shot by @kpopfanfictrash​ - [ Anomaly ]

Originally posted by intokai

Kyungsoo. Telepathy. For someone who finds solace in silence, Kyungsoo’s life is overwhelming at best. Everywhere he goes, everyone he meets is loud, deafeningly so. He never asked for this gift. To know exactly what people think, the moment they think it. Thoughts which more often than not, make him think people are jealous, self-servicing cowards. Always, he’s wished the voices would stop and always, he’s met with more. That is, until he’s alone with you and, for the first time in his life – he hears absolutely nothing. 

One Shot by @knockknocksoosthere - [ Noise ]

Originally posted by kyungsuhos

Junmyeon. Psychokinesis. Junmyeon does not touch things if he can help it. It’s not that he doesn’t want to. It’s just that nothing ever truly prepares a person for the lived experiences of objects. Touching a book means he does not get the words inside, he gets the laughter of the person who read it last. Touching a door means he is forced to live every impossible life of the men and women who have been and gone from the room. Junmyeon does not touch things if he can help it. Until he touches a dormitory wall. Until he hears you. 

One Shot by @bread-jinie - [ Replay ] 

Originally posted by tinyjunmyeon

Sehun. Invisibility. Sehun remembers the very first time he turned invisible. It was in his primary school days, he was performing Tap Solo #5 in the middle of the stage. Sehun entered from stage left, promptly forgetting the very first move. His legs faltered, mind went blank – and sudden screams erupted from the audience, when Sehun’s body disappeared. His family moved the next week. This kind of thing becomes normal, though – until the day Sehun is invisible, and you see him anyways.

One Shot by @kpopfanfictrash - [ Blue Roses ]

Originally posted by kyungsuhos

Minseok. Essokinesis. Reality has never been kind to Minseok. Always, he’s been overlooked. Always picked last, always bullied by those larger than him. Until one day, he snaps. He imagines himself towering over his tormentors, striking fear into their puny hearts and dangling them from his palm. When he realizes they, too experience this distorted reality – things begin to change. No longer is Minseok nobody. The first time he steps foot on campus, people know who he is. He sees them whisper, sees them shy away and while he finds comfort in their fear – it’s lonely. When he meets you though, he finds you don’t look away. Perhaps there’s a reason.  

One Shot by @knockknocksoosthere - [ Dark ]

Originally posted by kimjongah

Baekhyun. Aquakinesis.  Baekhyun thinks he has control over his powers by now. Thinks he’s past that prepubescent age where his sadness brought drizzles and his anger, monsoons. All this though, is before he makes the terrible and horrifying mistake of falling in love with his best friend. You.

One Shot by @kpopfanfictrash - [ Imminence ]

Originally posted by fy-exo

Chanyeol. Electrokinesis. Newfound notoriety has brought more than few changes to Chanyeol’s life at a Exordia Academy. The most notable being that he’s finally in a position to vie for your affections. You, the girl who quite literally makes sparks fly each time he sees you smile.

One Shot by @knockknocksoosthere - [ the week of 11 / 4 - 11 / 11 ]

Originally posted by k1mj1nw00

Yixing. Shifter. Yixing has complete control. Over himself, his body, the molecules which make him. Yixing can alter or change at will - each time with a clinical sort of detachment. Until he finds you, and remembers there are some things worth caring for. 

One Shot by @kpopfanfictrash - [ the week of 11 / 12  - 11 / 20 ]

Originally posted by chiuyixing

Jongdae. Enhanced Strength. Jongdae remembers the exact moment he knew he was different. He slammed the door to his room, a normal, teenage reaction but was terrified when the plaster and plywood crumbled down around him. From that moment on, he was changed. No longer his parents’ son, Jongdae belonged to someone else entirely. He was adopted – that was what they said. Now, even surrounded by people who are supposedly the same, he feels lost. Adrift, like he’s meant for something else. Then there’s you. You make him feel alive, wanted in a way he’s never understood. 

One Shot by @knockknocksoosthere - [ the week of 11 / 20 -  11 / 30 ]

Originally posted by dazzlingkai


Meet the next generation of superheroes. (Prompt from Anonymous xx)

bashfyl  asked:

*incoherent screaming* You opened prompts! Sterek: Not yet together sterek. The idea is a bath and Stiles how did you get that there?!? Thank you.

Taking Sterek Prompts | Filling Prompts Live

———

“Are you going to get in?” Stiles asked, peeling out of his last shirt, his words a little slurry around the edges. “In a- a- a-” He paused, trying rather unsuccessfully to shake his hand free of his sleeve. He started laughing uncontrollably and collapsed to the floor to work on his shoes. “The water, are you?”

“No,” Derek groused, pointedly not looking when Stiles flopped onto his back and began to shimmy out of his soaked pants. Black slime coated almost every square inch of the floor. “This is your bath, not mine.”

“Mine,” Stiles echoed, now just lying on the floor in a puddle of black, his pale skin coated head to foot in the gunk. “This is not my house.”

“Yes,” Derek agreed, as patiently as he could, checking the water’s temperature before turning off the tap. It had to be extra hot to affect the stuff. “This is the clinic.”

Deaton had explained that even minimal contact with the ichorous substance gave a contact high. Stiles had been practically drenched in the stuff when they had killed it. Luckily it was not deadly or even toxic- which was the problem. Someone had been keeping the creature as a pet, drawing out the fluid and selling it, and it had escaped three days ago to wreak havoc.

Very, very unfortunately, Derek had drawn the short straw for ensuring Stiles got cleaned up and came down from the high safely. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica were taking care of disposal of the body while Scott and Allison swung by Allison’s house to return weapons and report to her father. Deaton had been kind enough - or perhaps had enough self preservation - to give Derek the key to the clinic so he could get Stiles washed up away from his father’s questions.

“Come on,” Derek said gently, slipping from the edge of the tub to crouch at Stiles’ side. It was, he reflected, a very good thing that werewolves were not susceptible to the substance’s effects. “You gotta get cleaned up.” The effects wouldn’t wear off until every drop of the ichor was gone.

Stiles lifted his head, looking all the way down his lean form. “Oh, no, no that’s too far,” he told Derek, head falling back with an audible clunk he was probably going to feel in a few hours. “Wow, this is the best floor ever. Do you think I could take it home with me?”

“No,” Derek said with a sigh. Looked like this was going to have to be the hard way. He shifted, kneeling beside Stiles, and grabbed at his wrists to haul him up.

Despite that they slipped and slid a bit, Derek managed to get a very naked Stiles upright and across the three feet to the tub. For a second Stiles stood very still, holding tightly onto the edge of it like he was going to resist going in. Then he tipped forward and faceplanted directly into the basin so quickly Derek had to scramble to keep him from drowning.

“Hoooooo!!!!” Stiles shouted the second his mouth was above the surface, water sluicing away the ichor clinging to his skin. “It’s hot, Derek! This is really hot, why is it so hot? Oh my god, I’m melting!” He started grabbing at the black liquid coming off his skin.

Closing his eyes, Derek counted to three. Then five. Then ten, for good measure, and when he opened them again, Stiles had fallen very, very still and was staring wide eyed into the middle distance. It was not exactly an improvement, but at least he’d stopped thrashing, slopping water and ichor all over the floor and flinging it onto the walls and- and was that- on the ceiling?

“Stiles, how did you- you know what, nevermind,” Derek grumbled, reaching for the spray nozzle.

This setup was supposed to be for cleaning dogs, but it would work just as well for ornery, tripping humans. He began to run the spray over Stiles’ hair, watching the black give way to brown. When the tub had filled completely, Derek pulled the plug and let it drain. Diluted like this with water, it wouldn’t hurt the general populace; at worst, they’d all have a really good day soon.

Stiles’ eyes slid closed, and he relaxed into the gentle touches Derek used to turn him this way and that, to get at the last of the ichor still clinging to strange places like inside of his ears and between his fingers and- well, at least Stiles was unlikely to remember any of this very well tomorrow.

By the time he had gotten the last of it, Stiles had turned to putty in his hands, making a soft, pleasant humming noise that might have been purring on a cat. Derek swallowed hard, trying to keep it together. He still needed to get Stiles someplace to wait out the high, and get this place cleaned up so no one else would be affected.

Difficult to think of anything beyond the way Stiles pressed himself into Derek’s touches. “Feels good,” Stiles murmured, unwilling or unable to keep his eyes open. “You should touch me more.”

“Tomorrow,” Derek mumbled back, prodding Stiles to his feet. The floor was still covered in ichor, so Derek just leaned over and scooped a completely unresisting Stiles into his arms. Immediately, Stiles looped his own arms around Derek’s neck and burrowed his nose against Derek’s shoulder. “If you still want me to touch you tomorrow, I will.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed muzzily.

He wouldn’t remember. No one else had. Still…

He allowed himself a small smile, and a measure of hope. Stiles had never been one for following the rules, after all.

the saddest part is not the way we ended
or why it happened
it’s that i would take you back
i’d break myself in two if it meant you’d kiss me one more time
i’d ignore the fact that you call her every night now
the fact that she’s the last voice you hear before you fall asleep now
i would let you crack my spine in half if it meant you’d touch me again
i would do anything if it meant that time would heal my broken heart faster than it healed yours
if it meant that time moved slower and we got years together instead of days
and so now
i sit alone in my room every night and listen to the same five songs before i fall asleep because they all remind me of you
i try to tell myself that it wasn’t my fault but all i can think of is that you’re kissing her now and you’re loving her now and you’re hers now and all i have left to show that you were here is a few pictures and an ocean of tears
—  a love i never wanted to lose, pt. 2
I Trust You

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of accidental injuries, angst, swearing, smut, nsfw, unprotected sex

Word Count: 1630

Summary: Bucky accidentally hurts you the night before and you try to keep him from finding out. 

Request: Hi I just found your blog and I fell in love, could you write a request where Bucky accidentally hurts Reader during sex, maybe he is thrusts too rough and he mistakes her cries for moans of pleasure and doesn’t realized he hurt her until after his orgasm, but he makes it up to her

A/N: I deviated a little from the request but in essence it’s all still there. Also It’s late, this is unedited. All mistakes are my own so please forgive them. 


Your name: submit What is this?

You didn’t want to tell him, didn’t want him to know.

Bucky hadn’t meant to do it and you knew that, but accident or not if he ever found out you were sure he’d never touch you again, hell he would probably stay as far from you as he could get, and that was something you didn’t want to risk. He’d been making so much progress over the last few months, only recently becoming comfortable with you being on his left side.

During the first stages of your relationship Bucky had kept you on his right side at all times, worried that something might happen if you got too close to the gleaming metal plates. It was only after patience and months of showing him he wasn’t about to lose control of himself that he slowly let himself relax. There was no way that you were about to back peddle all of that persistence over a bruise he didn’t mean to make. All you had to do was keep it covered until it healed.

Honestly you hadn’t even felt it to begin with, way too lost in the feeling of Bucky’s sharp breaths and hard thrusts. It was only after you’d come down fully from your high and Bucky had fallen asleep that you felt the dull throbbing around your wrist.

There was no mistaking the perfect outline of Bucky’s fingers in the dark, blotchy skin; the imprint of where metal had met flesh. He had pinned your wrist above your head as he pistoned his hips into yours, and fuck, had it felt amazing. Your orgasm had slammed into you so hard that you felt your eyes tip to the back of your skull, your throat raw from how hard you had chanted his name. You really didn’t want to taint a memory like that.

Keep reading

Submit To Me - Dylan O’Brien

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Dylan O’Brien/Reader

Word Count: 15,061

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Public Teasing, Public Masturbation, Teasing in the car and in the bedroom, pleading, seduction, striping Dylan because he’s sexy as fuck, dry humping, thigh riding, hand jobs, face riding, handcuffs, blindfolds, 69 (aka oral male and female receiving), overstimulation, praising, orgasm denial, female riding male (regular and reverse cowgirl), whiny Dylan, mentions of dominant Dylan, A lot of submissive Dylan, BREATHY MOANS

Notes: I will make this short as I am writing this pool side from hell. I’m so sorry this took forever. I have no excuses. But hopefully it was worth it. I honestly don’t know if this is my best writing for what you guys wanted from this. I promise the next thing I write won’t take as long. 

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Ingenuous (M)

WARNINGS: graphic smut, riding, masturbation, hand job, sub!jimin, babyboy!jimin

genre: smut

Summary: maybe Jimin just wasn’t as innocent as you thought.

Originally posted by jeonyween


Bright, big eyes stared at you with a glint of light as you handed him his water. A blush dawned onto his cheeks as he nodded, thanking you with a small voice. His eyes seemed to disappear from the shy smile he held on his features. You chuckled, shaking your head softly.

There was something about Jimin that you could never pinpoint what it exactly was; but he was certainly shy. In his own cute way, of course.

“I’m going to head out for a little,” you told him, giving him a warm smile.

He only nodded his head shortly, sipping his water before smiling.

You walked out the door, smiling softly as his innocent features stuck inside your head.


There was something different.

You could feel it the second you walked through the door. All of the lights were off, and there wasn’t a single light source coming from the apartment you shared with your roommate.

You frowned, thinking that he just went out without informing you beforehand.

But then there was a noise, and it wasn’t just any noise.

Your ears strained to hear the sounds, slowly making your way towards Jimin’s room as the sounds got louder. They were such sinful sounds, yet they were so beautiful. Especially since it was coming from Jimin’s mouth.

You licked your lips, noticing that his door only had a small crack open. You looked through, seeing something you never thought you would.

Jimin’s innocent side suddenly vanished the second you stared at him, watching as he touched himself. His hand worked slowly across his length, his thumb rubbing his tip each time he pumped upwards. He let out a soft whimper, his eyes tightly closed as he focused on the pleasure he was giving himself.

You squeezed your thighs together, unsure of what to do. You had never seen Jimin like this. You never imagined he would touch himself in such a.. sinful manner.

He started to pump faster as his precum slathered across his hand, making it easier to glide his hand. You bit your bottom lip, watching him with such an intense gaze that you couldn’t believe Jimin couldn’t feel it.

You shook your head quickly, looking away from him as you moved away from his door. You rested yourself against the wall softly, letting out a shaky breath.

You couldn’t believe you just stared at Jimin, completely invading his privacy, as he touched himself. But the image of him running his hand along his length, whimpering with need wouldn’t leave your head. And standing right next to his door while he moaned more wasn’t helping.

You were quick to escape the enviroment, knowing that if you had stayed longer you would have done something embarrassing.

For you, and him.


The next morning, you walked in your shared apartment, noticing that the air was a little tense. But, maybe that was just in your head.

Jimin was making breakfast in the kitchen, quietly humming a song. You swallowed deeply, walking up behind him. All you could see was him touching himself as the most sinful noises filled that room.

You shook your head, smiling painfully as you greeted him, “Good morning, Jimin.”

He smiled, his eyes quickly disappearing as he caught sight of you while blushing, “Good morning, Noona.”

You grabbed a glass of water, drinking it greedily. He frowned, wondering why you were acting a little different towards him, but decided it was best to ignore it. And you were thankful he did.

You rested your back against the counter, leaning against it as you stared at him. He continued cooking, his hands working well. You gulped as you remembered what his hands were doing last night.

You let out an involuntary whimper, making his eyes go wide as he looked at you. You coughed, as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Are you okay, Noona?” His worried expression, and furrowed eyebrows made your heart flutter.

What the hell was this? Why was he making you so flustered from just one time of catching him touching himself? Why did it turn you on so goddamn much?

Maybe you just really needed to get laid.

You shook your head, smiling softly, “I-I’m fine, Jimin.”

He hesitantly nodded, not sure if he should press it more but decided not to, “Okay..”

You sighed, letting out a breath of relief, watching as he finished the breakfast.

You were hungry, sure.

But not for food.

He squirmed under your intense gaze, unsure why you were staring at him like that.

He blushed, “Noona?”

Your attention focused on him, “Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked innocently, his voice soft and warm.

You cleared your throat, nodding, “Yes, Jimin. I’m sure.”

He frowned, before nodding as well, “Okay.. If you say so, Noona.”

If he says Noona like that one more time, you weren’t sure how long you would last before your patience snapped.


Now, this time was different.

You were horny, needy almost. And his moans were still stuck in your head as you laid on your bed, imagining what it would be like if you were the one to touch him. You whimpered at the thought of him being a begging mess for you, bending at your will.

You got up from your bed, walking towards the kitchen to get a glass of water to calm down. You were hot and bothered, and you were hoping it would cool you down.

But, just as you passed by Jimin’s room, you heard those sinful moans again. You stopped in your tracks, seeing that his door was fully closed this time, and you knew he was trying his best to keep quiet. You could just imagine him biting his lower lip as the whimpers fell helplessly.

You groaned internally, unable to contain yourself. You needed to be touched, you needed him to fulfill your desires.

But what made you freeze in your tracks from opening the door as your hand rested against the doorknob, was this:

“Y-Y/N.. Please, Noona.. Please..”

You gulped, your eyes immediately growing wide. He was imagining it was you touching him as he jerked himself off.

“Oh, fuck,” You whispered softly, your hand dropping from the doorknob quickly.

You closed your eyes, whimpering as you squeezed your thighs for friction. You heard him moan your name once more, and that’s when your eyes shot open, quickly reaching for the door again, swinging it open.

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Here’s an unsolicited headcanon that literally nobody asked for:

I’m a big proponent of the idea that to make your relationship a healthy one, you’ve got to accept the fact that sometimes the person you love is going to be petty. Sometimes you’re going to be petty. We’re all petty sometimes.

But Viktor and Yuuri are petty in very different ways.

Viktor is petty in that he still says things like, “You just wouldn’t understand,” instead of trying to explain himself because that’s what he went so long doing. He also has a bad habit of taking it personally when Yuuri doesn’t comment positively on a new shirt or pair of pants. And, of course, like Yuuri and his Bad Tie, Viktor is constantly running a monologue under his breath about the bad fashion choices of those around him.

“Orange is not your color, honey,” Viktor mumbles under his breath, referring to a woman walking past them wearing an orange-paisley pantsuit.

Even Yuuri can agree that it’s hideous, but he’s not sure why Viktor feels the need to point it out. Someday, somehow, someone is going to hear him, and he’s going to have to talk a person out of punching his husband in the face.

“You did a spread in Teen Vogue where you wore safety-monitor-orange pants and a neon green shirt,” Yuuri tells him, remembering it vividly because it was horrible and awful but that didn’t stop fourteen-year-old Yuuri from keeping it shoved under his pillow for…purposes.

“Ugh,” is Viktor’s succinct reply.

Viktor being petty about fashion makes sense to Yuuri, though. In a weird sort of way.

Likewise, it makes sense to Viktor that Yuuri is petty about food.

See, this is a learning curve for Viktor because his Yuuri is a sweet, beautiful and loyal person but he would probably get into a physical fight with someone over his favorite foods? Like, the first time Viktor eats the last of Yuuri’s favorite frozen yogurt Yuuri won’t let him touch him when they go to bed. 

This is such an odd concept for Viktor because his whole life it’s been like, “Oh? You want some of my food? Yes, here!” If it will make someone happy, Viktor would forfeit his favorite part of any dish so that a person he loves could have a moment of joy.

Yuuri on the other hand, sometimes warily stares at Viktor for a full ten seconds before allowing him to reach in and grab a (Small, Viktor) handful of the chips he’s eating.

“We’re married,” Viktor pouts, munching slowly on the four (4) whole cheesy poofs Yuuri allowed him.

“And?” Yuuri says, staring with determination at the television.

“I promise to love and support–”

“I am loving and supporting you,” Yuuri says. “You’re not married to my cheesy poofs. They don’t have to.”

This is the point at which Viktor usually lunges for the bag, and the aforementioned physical fight usually happens. Yuuri and Viktor usually look up from the subsequent heavy petting session twenty minutes later to realize that Makkachin has eaten the remaining chips and is now walking around with the bag on his head, bumping into the walls.

CHAPTER SIX: YOU LIKE HIM.

PLOT SUMMARY: a multichapter imagine fic where the reader is dustin’s older siblings. follows along directly with the events of season 2. she’s friends with nancy, and drama ensues. over the course of the fic we see how the reader reacts to new challenges and a new romantic interest.  ( inspired by two other imagines that i literally can’t find for the life of me. )

CHAPTER SUMMARY: feelings develop and the reader comes to find out that steve truly does care about her.

PAIRING: SLOWBURN Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

WARNING: Swearing and Spoilers

CHAPTERS: ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE

WORD COUNT: 2.2K+

After sitting in the cellar for almost two and a half hours and Steve taking it upon himself to comfort you once again. Dustin had finally gotten through the story about the Demogorgon, and the upside down. It was a lot for you to take in. And if both Steve and Dustin didn’t confirm it you would have sworn it was just a bad prank. Also the giant hole in your cellar caused you not to question it very much. A hole, by the way, that looked like it went on for miles.  

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Reluctant Rejection

Summary: Being Sam Winchester’s Omega was wonderful… when he was actually there. Yes, he was kind and loving, but he’d spend weeks away from you, only stopping by when he needed to. Two years of living on the outskirts of Sam’s life is starting to take its toll. 
Pairing
: Alpha!SamxOmega!Reader
Words
: 2927
Warnings
: A/B/O Dynamics. Smut. Angst. Mistrust in a relationship. 
AN: First proper Sammy ABO fic!!! This is also my entry for @ilostmyshoe-79‘s Sweet Emotions Challenge! My emotion was Neglect… hope this fits the bill properly. But I feel like it does!!! 
Constructive Criticism Welcome!!!

***

The first thing that alerted you to Sam’s arrival was the tell-tale low grumble of the large, black beauty of the car he owned, which was quickly killed and followed by the slamming of a car door.

An excited grin broke out across your face, the small pains that indicated the very early stages of your heat forgotten. Every instinct in your body telling you to go to your Alpha, every fibre of your being craving to be with him after so long apart; to see him, smell him, touch him… your very soul was calling out for him.

It wasn’t like you’d forgotten all of the doubts that had been plaguing you, haunting your thoughts and hounding your dreams. Those were still very much there; but, at present, they were being entirely overwhelmed by the hormones coursing through your veins. There was only one thing on your mind when your heat started creeping into your system.

Sam didn’t even get the chance to cross the threshold before you leapt at him, arms wrapping around his neck, lips crashing into his in a searing kiss. He dropped his duffel bag on the floor just in time to catch you, one of his large hands gripping your thigh as you wrapped your legs around his narrow waist; the other quickly wrapping around your lower back. You heard him moan into your mouth as your fingers wove their way into his long hair.

He chuckled slightly when you finally pulled away from his mouth, but you made no attempt to detach yourself from him in any other way. In fact, you barely moved your head far from his.

“Someone’s keen,” he mused, smirking at you with a light in his eyes that only you could ignite. You matched his grin with one of your own, gently nudging his nose with yours before resting your forehead against his.

A small whine escaped your throat as you felt him slip the hand at your back under the thin shirt you were wearing, and you inhaled deeply, unable to get enough of his warm scent that reminded you of a campfire. “Missed you, Alpha,” you sighed, tugging on his hair slightly and eliciting a small growl from him.

“Missed you too, Omega,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck as he buried his face there, clearly revelling in your scent as much as you were in his.

The two of you remained entwined with one another as Sam carelessly kicked his bag just inside the door before knocking it shut behind him, just enjoying the moment of being close to one another. This wasn’t an uncommon way of spending your first few hours together when he visited, due to the fact that you often spent so long apart. You both just basked in the presence of the other.

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in which jack does not, in fact, go into the NHL

AN: the sequel to this piece. 
TW: Suicidal thoughts, career changes, hard conversations.


When the confetti rained down in the other team’s colors, Jack felt a cold wave of numbness wash over him.

I don’t want to be alive anymore, he thought, chest tightening with shame and fear. I want to die.

A pause. A breath.

Oh.

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Originally posted by ohstylesno

This was a request from @ashgrayily! Thank you so much, this was an interesting one. Hope you all enjoy. xx - L

The story about Y/N and Harry’s on-and-off again relationship.

Warnings: Mention of smut

Word Count: 2,201

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Touch Starved

Cas doesn’t know when he started to crave human contact.  He supposes it’s a side effect of inhabiting his vessel for so long, but it’s inconvenient to say the least.  

He remembers hugging Dean when he came back from the dead, wrapping himself around his warm body without a second thought. How easy things had been then, when all of his thoughts were occupied with Dean being alive and what a miracle that was.  He didn’t have to worry about overstepping his bounds, doing something he’d regret.

He remembers Dean cupping his face, stroking it even, holding his hand after a near-fatal (or fatal) injury as he looked into his eyes, making sure he was alright.  

Even then, in the context of whatever brush with death he was recovering from, Cas couldn’t think about anything but melting into Dean’s hands, staying that way forever and ever. But of course, he couldn’t.  That would be inappropriate, a man touching a male vessel for such a sustained period of time, and if Dean touched him for too long he might give into temptation. Overstep his bounds.  Do something he’d regret.

Cas lives a sleepless life, but as he wanders the bunker at night he can’t help but envision what it would be like to lay down in bed next to Dean, to hold him in his arms or have him hold Cas, to feel his warm breath and the thud of his heartbeat. 

 Dean had been so warm when he touched Cas.  So gentle, and so very human.

He tells himself it’s only fantasy, so it doesn’t count.  Just as long as he never let’s it show, what he truly wants, and how badly he wants it:  he craves contact, Dean’s contact, his affection, his warmth.  He wants to know Dean loves him back, for him to show it with his actions if not with his words.  

But he doesn’t dare say it.  He just dreams.

Over a year ticks by like this, when Dean comes home from a hunt, badly injured.  He has a blood-red welt on his forehead, and a deep scratch through the fabric of his shirt. 

 Cas, ever concerned, steps forward.  “Here,” he offers, holding out his hand.  “Let me.”

Dean gives the obligatory, feeble protest, but doesn’t move away as Cas presses his hand to his shoulder, where his handprint had been all those years ago.  

The injuries slowly fade from Dean’s body, and Cas, satisfied that his patient is now well, begins to retract his hand.

It’s barely perceptible, the way Dean leans towards the contact, following it.  Chasing it.  

Cas notices anyway, and his brow furrows.  He’s been told he lacks empathy, but Cas recognizes the gesture, the longing that was behind it.  It just doesn’t seem possible that Dean could crave what Cas does.

Still, tentatively, experimentally, places his hand back on Dean’s shoulder.  

“What’re you doin’?”  Dean inquires, voice a tired grumble.  “I’m all healed up.  I’m fine now.”

Still, he doesn’t move away.

“I am…checking for further injuries,” he informs him, and immediately feels guilty for lying.  Still, he needs to know if Dean wants this too, whether even some small part of him might crave this.  He allows his hands to move gently over Dean’s shoulders, tentatively as though he might break.

Dean makes a soft grunt that tells Cas he doesn’t quite believe his alibi, but still, he doesn’t move away. He leans closer, into Castiel’s touch.

Cas continues, in somewhat awed silence, his hands stroking down Dean’s broad shoulders, down his muscular back, radiating warmth beneath his thick flannel shirt.  Cas wishes he wasn’t wearing it, and not even for sexual reasons:  he just wants to feel Dean’s skin beneath his own, wants the intimacy of being together without the restrictions of clothes.

He allows his fingertips to brush, feather-light, over the bare skin of Dean’s neck, still damp with sweat from the exertion of their hunt.  Dean doesn’t tense, or do anything, really:  he just sits there, perfectly still.  Cas can’t read his facial expression, but he somehow feels he’s doing something forbidden.  

At that moment, Sam walks in, saying something innocuous about the hunt and not noticing whatever it is they’re doing.  

Dean stands up abruptly, practically knocking over a chair as he does so.  Cas watches him curiously as he awkwardly greets him, clearly somewhat embarrassed, despite the fact Sam wasn’t aware of the exchange that had just transpired.  

Sam looks suspiciously from Dean, then to Cas, then goes about his business like he doesn’t want to know.

It isn’t until months later that Cas finally gets what he wants, though he’s not coherent enough to fully appreciate it.  

He’s been stabbed through the gut with an angel blade, grace seriously depleted and nearly delirious.  

It’s an unfortunately close re-enactment of the last time Cas was taken from them, and Dean knows it as he lugs Cas into bunker, draped over his shoulder like a rag doll.  

He’s barely conscious as Dean lays him on the sofa, pealing back his blood-soaked shirt to reveal the wound, the blue light of his Grace illuminating from within.  

He yells something at Sam, who minutely brings them a bowl of hot water and a cloth, which Dean then uses to clean it.  If Cas were more coherent, he’d tell Dean that was useless, that he would be healed by his grace or not at all;  mending a vessel when his true form was damaged was like trying to repair a flesh wound by patching up clothing.

But Dean is touching him gently, cleaning his wound and muttering to him soft, soothing nothings that he can’t quite make out.

He’s looking at him with an emotion somewhere between desperation and…Cas refuses to let himself think ‘love’, not wanting to feed into his own false hope, but it’s something very close to it.

In spite of himself, he smiles, allowing Dean to take care of him as his eyes flutter shut one last time.

…  

When Cas comes to, he’s shirtless and carefully bandaged, though he doesn’t need it anymore;  his Grace heeled the wound over night.  Now, not even a scar remains.

He doesn’t have much time to pontificate on this, however, because Dean is beside him, asleep on the sofa, one arm draped over Castiel’s bare midsection and the other wrapped around a pillow, snoring softly.  

Cas watches him, too awed to say anything, for the better part of a half hour.  Not even Dean drooling on his pillow is enough to detract from the wonder of him being here.  The fact that he has, apparently, stayed with him throughout the night, his body pressed against his own.

And here Cas had been losing faith in miracles.  

After a while, Dean’s eyes flitter open, and he awakens with a startled snort as he realizes Cas is staring at him.  

Cas is about to apologize for staring, again, when Dean has expressed his desire for him not to, but Dean is only sitting up on his elbow, grinning stupidly at him and rubbing the drool off his chin.  

“Cas,” he half-chuckles, voice breathy and slightly awed.  “You’re alive.”

Cas nods sagely, grunting as he sits back on his pillow.  “I believe so, yes.”

“That’s…”  Dean trails off, laughing breathlessly.  “That’s awesome, man.  We didn’t think you were gonna make it for a while.  If you were human, that blow would’ve been-”  He trails off.  “I’m glad you’re here, man.”

Cas is barely listening at this point, still staring at Dean in quiet awe.

“You…stayed with me,”  he murmurs, Dean blinks, looking slightly taken aback by the statement:  it’s almost a question, the way Cas phrases it; the inquiry of why is evident in his voice.

“Of course I did, man.  We care about you,” he says, hand rubbing at the back of his neck.  “I care about you.”

Cas stares at him, expression unreadable.  Slowly, he nods.

They’re still lying there, on the sofa, bodies pressed close.  Dean is so warm, so soft and pliable against him, radiating the heat Castiel has craved for so long.

Cas wets his lips.  “Can we stay like this, just a little while?”  he asks, voice barely a whisper.  He doesn’t want to make Dean feel uncomfortable, but he wants this closeness so badly.  He never wants it to stop.

There’s a brief pause.  Dean swallows before he answers, “Sure, Cas.  Whatever you need, buddy.”

Cas smiles, tentatively resting his head against Dean’s shoulder.  He closes his eyes, not missing the way Dean leans into his touch, the contented sigh he breathes through his nose.  

And Cas knows, in that moment, that Dean’s wanted this too.  Maybe as much as Cas has, if that’s possible.

It only feels natural when Dean leans in for a kiss.  

La Douleur Exquise Pt 2 | Incubus!Yoongi AU

summary: in which you accidentally summon an incubus in the middle of your shitty apartment and he won’t leave until you agree to have sex with him. until then, min yoongi, incubus extraordinaire, is now your sexually promiscuous and grumpy roommate. aka, the incubus au no one fucking asked for.

warnings: lots of swearing, and some bondage and dom/sub!tones (uhh but not really? you’ll get it when you read it hhhh)

genre: fluff, angst, humor, smut

words: 5.8K

a/n: since it’s my 18th bday, i decided to upload this because it has my very first smut scene hhhh ok but it’s not really a smut scene (you’ll understand when you read) and i wanted to celebrate by posting this today!! hope you enjoy~

➵  part 1 // part 2 (you’re here!) // part 3 // part 4 (coming soon!)


Yoongi supposed, for all intents and purposes, that tonight could not have gone any better in his opinion.

He never took you for the type who would be into bondage and orgasm denial, but who was he to deny a lovely lady’s request? Even more so, a beautiful lady who was currently begging for his touch, or so at least that was what he assumed you were saying through the mouth gag he had placed on you.

“What was that, princess? You want me to touch you?” He smirked, his long fingers barely grazing the top of your soaked white panties. You only groaned through the gag; your hips jerked up reflexively, attempting to chase the touch of his fleeing fingers. Your eyes were teary from pent up arousal, having been denied your orgasm at least three times in the last two hours. But oh, did you love it.

Who would have thought that the fiery, sarcastic girl who summoned him two weeks ago could be such a fine submissive?

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anonymous asked:

Hi!!!! For your Sweet Affectionate Moments Meme, number 32 please!! Pretty please with Sterek??? PS: Love your writing!!!

32. Getting caught in the act.

-

“Now–” Stiles’ dad says, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “I can understand the first time. You were young, had been dating for a few weeks. Hell, sometimes I couldn’t resist your mother either.”

Stiles thumps his head against the kitchen table and groans.

“And the second time was my fault.” His dad continues. “I walked in without knocking, I’ve learned my lesson.” He still glares at Derek though, like it’s his fault Stiles ended up the way he is. “But for god’s sake, you have a daughter now.”

Said daughter is currently sitting on the floor, mouthing at Derek’s fingers and drooling all over herself. She can’t even sleep the entire night yet.

Dad,” Stiles cries out, “can’t you just –”

“It won’t happen again, sir.” Derek says, barely holding his laughter at Stiles’ horrified expression.

What?” Stiles yells, making Mia start laughing at the noise. He takes a moment to smile down at his daughter and then turns to his husband again. “But – I like having sex on the couch.”

“Stiles!” Both Derek and Stiles’ dad scream.

“What? I do!” He points at Derek. “And it’s not like you said no.”

Derek ducks his head down, the tip of his ears going red. Hah, he likes having sex on the couch too. Stiles grins.

“I’m too old for this.” His dad complains, running a hand through his hair. “Give me my granddaughter.” He gestures for Mia and Derek passes her quickly. Stiles always found adorable how even after ten years Derek is still scared of Stiles’ dad.

Mia laughs as her grandfather tickles her and they all stare at her, amazed.

“Bring her back by six!” Stiles yells at his father’s retreating back, waving as Mia smiles at him.

“Seven!” He screams back. “So you learn not to have sex where your daughter can see!”

“She’s ten months, she doesn’t even know what a blow-” Derek clasps a hand over his mouth.

“Just stop talking, please.” He mutters, watches as Stiles’ dad drives off and then heads back inside. To do laundry probably, Stiles frowns, Derek loves being all domestic when they’re baby-free.

Such a wasted time.

“We need to start locking the door.” He says, following Derek into the kitchen.

“We need to stop having sex on the couch.”

Stiles throws his hands up. “Ah, come on. Not you too!”

“We do have a baby, Stiles.” Derek says, collecting the toys they had laid out for Mia to play while they were in the kitchen. “We have to be more careful.”

“But I like having sex on the couch.” Stiles says. “I like being able to touch you all the time.”

“But you do–”

“We spent a long time not being able to do that.” He still remembers the two years away, Derek in New York and Stiles calling him at night, pretending he just wanted to ask about a book or if Derek would buy him a Mets jersey. He remembers missing Derek like crazy, going to New York just to see him and then spending the entire weekend trying not to give away his feelings.

Mostly, he remembers Derek kissing him on his last night there, remembers the feeling of finally being able to be with him, to run a hand over his hair and drop a kiss on his shoulder just because. He remembers Derek promising they’d be together forever.

“Stiles,” Derek says, kissing the top of his head, “I love you. That’s never going to change. But I also love our daughter and I’d rather not answer to sex questions before she’s at least thirteen.”

Despite himself, Stiles snorts, slumping against Derek’s chest. “Fine. No sex on the couch or the kitchen table. Forever. This is so unfair.”

“Well, you know she’ll move out eventually, right?” Derek asks.

The thought of his adorable baby girl growing up and going to college or even getting married is not something Stiles is prepared to deal with now. “Hey! One problem at a time!” Derek snorts, pulling Stiles in for a kiss.

“Come on, we can still have sex in our bed.”

Stiles grins, forgetting about Mia and his dad and everything else as Derek begins to unbutton his shirt. “I like the way you think.”

In the end it doesn’t really matter if it’s on the couch or the bed, as long as Stiles has Derek, the location is only a detail.

anonymous asked:

Do you really think Jungkook is in love with Jimin? And vice versa? I want your honest opinion! 🌚

I would love to meet someone who put me first in absolutely everything.

Imagine meeting someone who does not mind losing what they have just so I can win something too.

I would be extremely happy if I undone something of mine and heard at the same time how good I am at it and how much I do not need to worry about it.

Having someone in your life who knows exactly everything about you, from great to small things.

Someone who would not mind sleeping on the floor just to see you sleeping comfortably or who knows how you feel in a certain situation.

Someone who lives with you 24/7 and even so during a show, which lasts at most two and a half hours, you need to have simple moments, touches and subtle looks.

Someone who cheers you and pays attention at everything you say. He pays so much attention that he ends up doing the same thing unconsciously.

Someone who does stupid things just to make you smile.

Someone who goes around and around you until you feel good.

Having someone get things right just because it involves you and when they can’t, get absurdly frustrated and that is so noticeable.

Someone who does not use the word friend to determine the relationship you have to the need to use a superior word like “brother” become so important.

Someone who is distracted during a performance because he is so focused on you that he forgets even the dance steps.

Someone who gets me blankets so I don’t get cold at night. ♥

Having someone who loves to annoy you, but when other people do this to you, he is the first to do the opposite just so you feel important.

Someone who smiles because he is listening to the sound of your laughter or is lost seeing you laughing on the other side of the room.

Imagine you trust so much in someone to the point of resting your head on their shoulder and close your eyes because that’s your home.

Have someone who chooses to sleep in a room with two more people, having yours, just because you are in it.

Someone who listens to your playlist and makes your favorite songs their favorites as well.

Someone who hears you say “this song is my favorite of the moment” and then do a cover of it.

To have someone who knows your cute side that no one else knows and obviously loves this side of you.

It must be wonderful to know that the song that everyone loves was made especially for you.

Imagine knowing that only you received a gift, that that person thought of you and did not let the date go by unnoticed.

It is normal for you to be with someone and have one or two things in common with the person, but do you imagine having a lot of things in common with the same person?

Someone who loves your nickname and make that very clear.

“It’s just the 2 of us doing something at night. I do not know what we do. “ That’s so important.

Someone who remembers what we talked about on that day and what exactly we were doing. Even if that was just eating an ice cream.

Someone who asks me to stay because I don’t have to go far away just to learn the choreography and finds myself the most important person in a group just because of it.

Someone who puts my music on loud so I go back to their room and still say that was exactly what I wanted from the beginning.

Someone who talks about be even when they don’t have to.

Someone who tells things we are betting on so that millions of people know how healthy and lively our relationship is.

Someone who stops during a performance and sing a certain part of the song directly to me and smiles. And repeat it again so subtly.

Someone who points to me when asked ‘what is your greatest desire?’.

That often repeat how beautiful my eyes are.

Someone that looks at me for many seconds, even though I’m not talking and smiles for doing it.

Imagine hearing someone say how different I am, unique … and sexy.

Someone who knows if I’m telling the truth or not, just by the tone of my answer.

That plays and sings my favorite song of my favorite singer just to have my attention.

That hugs me from behind and it’s so warm.

Someone who keeps their eyes shining when they see me dancing and does not even blink while I’m doing this.

Find everything I say funny and laugh like the whole world depends on that reaction.

Someone who makes it so obvious to post the lyrics of a song, without even listening, right after I post a video of mine. “I’m hella obsessed with your face.”

Someone who is competitive but loses on purpose just to share the room with me.

Someone who is older than me and acts in a cute way to ask me for anything.

Someone who knows you can’t eat something bitter.

Having someone who likes to be around you… always.

Someone who knows your hand is cold and does not want you to get hurt and then get the punishment changed.

You know there’s more, right? So yes.