was crumbling just as fast he was


a/n: hi everyone!!!!! this new thingy was inspired by an anon sent to @lostinshawnslight that I ~somehow~ got the ~rights to, so I hope y’all enjoy!!!!! this is kinda shitty but kinda cute so idk maybe it’ll turn out okay!!!

Word Count: 3,517

Coming home from your Tanzanian study abroad after a year on the African Savanna definitely sent you into a culture shock, considering the only thing you’ve been thinking about is wildlife preservation and veterinary medicine for African animals. When you arrived back at your University in Canada, your friends decided that the best way to get you acclimated to life in the westernized world was to ‘drink you back into society’.

You return home just in time for your university’s “fake homecoming” which is basically just a giant party where everyone drinks all day long, so it happens to be the perfect occasion to celebrate your own homecoming.

You and your friends dress up in your cutest University spirit attire, involving leather envelope skorts and tied and cut university t shirts, and you make your way to the blocked off street where all of the collaborative house parties are happening.

You’re about three shots and two mixed drinks in when your friends suggest changing gears and going to a different party that some of the hockey players are throwing, since your friend, Annie, has a ‘thing’ with the goalie.

You stumble onto the lawn, your eyes starting to get fuzzy and your balancing becoming more and more impaired by the minute. Annie immediately finds Derek, leaving you and your two other friends to fend for yourselves. You decide to go into the kitchen of the house to get another drink, against your friends’ advice.

There’s an abundance of various types of liquors and chasers on the counter, and coolers on the floor by the fridge. You open the lid of one of the coolers, looking for a beer, but all of the coolers seem to be empty.

“S’there not any left?” A voice rings from behind you, and you jump a little.

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Part 2- Hal Carter 

Read part 1 here

Pairing: Hal Carter x Reader
Part: 2/?
Warnings: Smut - slight angst 
Summary: Hal takes you for a ride in his pickup truck
A/N: This is the second part in a series based on this post. I’ve been writing this for a while and I’m honestly so proud of it. Thank you for @writemarvelousthings for encouraging me. Please come let me know what you think! This is the song I listened to while writing - You Belong To Me - Jo Stafford
Word count : 4,157

Originally posted by lancetucker

The creak and slam of Hal’s red pickup truck door is unmistakable as he pulls up to your house and got out. Checking your lipstick one last time, you kiss your mother on the cheek and tell her not to wait up. She fixes you with the stare that you knew all too well. You skip out of the house, the screen door shutting behind you with a screech. Looking up you see Hal, he’s leaning against his truck a playful smirk spreading on his lips when he spots you. 

“Well don’t you look like sugar and spice and everything nice” he drawls, a cheeky chuckle following his words as he rids himself of the straw he was chewing. He takes you in his strong arms planting a sweet kiss on your cheek. “Your momma isn’t watching out of the window again is she?” he mumbles. 

You laugh and shake your head placating his fear, “she’s fixing dinner”. 

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You were home alone when you heard the knock on the door. Magnus was in the Institute, having some business with the Shadowhunters or rather Alec. You didn’t mind. Seeing Magnus happy was a good think. It’s been a while since he had taken you in and treated you like his own blood. Not just learning to control your powers, that made your mother abandon you and leave you on his porch.

For a moment you thought about ignoring the knock but you felt an urge to open it, so you followed your feelings.
The door only half open, Raphael crumbled against the frame. Burning wounds all over his face as he almost looked lost, while collapsing in your arms.

Your heart started beating fast just seeing his wounds and anger trembled in you. Somebody did that to the other boy, Magnus had considered his son even far before you had come in his life. You three were family, Raphael always there to assure you that you were not alone and that it didn’t matter that he was a vampire and you a warlock.

“I got you, Raph. Everything will be fine”, you whispered, as you helped him sit down before you started healing his wounds. You always were better at that, than using your powers to damage somebody.

“Thank you, (y/n). Not sure what I would have done without you.” Raphael’s words warmed your heart. He didn’t know how you really felt about him, didn’t know that you had fallen in love with him, once you had become older.

“I’ll always help you Raph”, you said and when you saw him smirk you decided to be brave. “Because I love you.”
For a moment nobody said anything but then Raphael looked at you.
“You love me?”, he asked but you knew you didn’t have to answer, so you just tried to keep breathing. When he finally smiled up at you, you felt like floating. “Well then our next next date hopefully doesn’t include injuries.”

requested by @fandomsfanman
hope you like it

You can find all my Imagines|Confessions here
Requests for Imagines|Confessions are open. Send me some ^^

candybarrnerd  asked:

hi Rachel *waves* I just wanted to say, I know that some people say that Derek seems to awkward to have really been in relationships, but I like to think the scene at the Sheriff's office/holding cells with Derek 'distracting' the officer says otherwise. Up until that point we've seen an angry Derek, and a... difficult(? not sure if that is the right word) Derek, but then we get to see that when in the right situation, or when he has a reason to, Derek can be social and flattering 1/2

and make you feel like you are the centre of his attention, which would be like, wow. And I think that really plays into the headcanon that I, you and a lot of others have that Derek hooked up a lot, but wasn’t in relationships emotionally, because he would turn that on, but he’s also working on hiding himself a lot of the time, so it’s easier to just hook up then try and continue that. I’m sure this point has been made by so many people before. But it’s something I think of

I agree with this so much. That scene, if nothing else, shows that Derek knows exactly how attractive he is and how to use his looks to get what he wants. I don’t actually know that the two ideas are mutually exclusive, though –– while Derek is one hundred percent comfortable with using his body, with playing on people’s attraction to him, and possibly even with casual sex, I also think he’d probably be very awkward when it comes to relationships.

Because physical is easy. Physical is impersonal. And I think there’s probably a very serious, Kate-induced disconnect in his brain between what is appealing about him (his body) and what’s not (who he actually is). Not to mention the trust issues going back the other way –– sure, he can have sex with strangers, how’s that likely to hurt him? His body can heal from anything they might do to him physically so he’s never really in danger, and if they do end up hurting him (personally, I tend to assume Derek went after the type likely to hurt him because he wouldn’t want to risk ending up with anyone he might develop feelings for, or who might get hurt because of him) then what does that matter anyway, right?

*sighs at our boy*

But once emotions get involved? Once he starts caring about a person? That would send everything Derek hates about himself and everything he’s scared of crashing over him all at once. It would make him vulnerable in a way simple sex doesn’t, and I think he’d be incredibly hesitant and awkward (too harsh and too soft, shaky and hesitant and too fast to pull back because everything he cares about shatters on him and he can’t have this shatter, not this and…)

And I can absolutely see Derek putting on the charm for strangers –– waiters at diners, visiting packs, that woman working at the occult bookstore when they’re trying to figure out how to banish those pixies –– and Stiles just getting slowly crushed by the “knowledge” that Derek’s so obviously attracted to all these random people the second he meets them and not Stiles, never Stiles, because he’s never seen that smile directed toward him, that’s for sure.

Until he starts realizing that Derek never follows through with any of these people. He trades smiles with them, flirts with them, but when Stiles “I can absolutely be an adult about this and not crumble in the face of my hopeless crush” asks him about any of them, Derek will just send him a blank look and say Stiles knows as much about them as he does.

And Stiles might not get the too-bright smiles, but he gets Derek coming to him every time there’s a crisis, and then sometimes when there’s not a crisis, and then sometimes staring at him for too long and looking away fast when Stiles tries to meet his gaze. He gets Derek’s hands on him soft after every battle, checking him over for wounds until another pack member walks in and Derek falls back, head ducked and acting weirdly flustered about the contact. And maybe it takes so long for Stiles to connect what’s going on as feelings because he’s associated Derek and all his hotness and all that charm he puts on when he wants to as Derek liking someone behavior because seriously… how can someone that beautiful and assertive not be the type of person to just tell people outright when he wants them?

But wanting is so much different than wanting, and Derek might be an expert at one but he is absolutely a fragile baby duckling at the other.


SPN FanFic

~Things are so much easier in the movies.~

Jensen x Reader, Jared

2,406 Words

Warnings: Excessive misuse of classic movie quotes

A/N: This is for Arie, @bringmesomepie56​. I have no idea what the hell this is, but I think it’s adorable. Hope you like it. 

“Tonight is the night,” you told yourself as you took a deep breath and followed Jared into the pub. “I’m gonna tell him how I feel.”

“What’s that, Y/N/N?” Jared asked over his shoulder. He could hear your voice over the symphony of noises that engulfed you as you moved towards the bar, but he couldn’t make out your words.

“Nothing,” you hollered back, lifting your chin to push your words up towards his ears. Too damn tall.

Jared gave you a quick once over with narrowed eyes and a playful smirk. “You’re up to something.”

“Am not!”

“Y/N,” he said, pulling you with him as he sank onto a barstool. “You didn’t take your makeup off, your hair is down and… quite nice actually, and that tank top…” Jared shook his head and bit his lip, trying to avert his eyes from your ample cleavage like the good friend he was.

“What about my tank top?” you defended, pulling your shoulders back and pushing your breasts almost into his face.

Jared laughed, “You look amazing, is all I’m saying. But I know what you’re up to. Just fuckin’ tell Jensen how you feel and be done with it.”

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Cassian x Reader, Part 1

Title: Whatever It Takes / AO3 
Part 2: tumblr
Part 3: tumblr
Length: 7.5k
Series rating: M for language and sexual content (contains some torture)
Summary: Reader and Cassian have kept their relationship a secret but when Reader is captured and tortured by the Empire, it’s obvious to all of Yavin 4 that Cassian will stop at nothing to get her back.
Author’s Note: A lovely anon requested this incredible idea and I immediately fell head over heels in love with it. Starts out pretty angsty but there will be fluff to make everything better, promise. :) Happy reading!! XOXO
Masterlist / WIP List 

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In Need of Fixing - Dean Winchester


Summary ;; part II of trapped. y/n and dean are struggling to get back to the way they were before as reminders of what happened previously keep haunting them.

(y/n) = your name

(y/n/n) = your nickname

(y/e/c) = your eye colour

Warnings ;; angst, hallucinations, panic attacks

Words ;; 2.9k

Published ;; 12th april, ‘17


Stay safe + ily☁️

Two weeks later.

The past two weeks had been full of sleepless nights and lonely hearts for the both of you and Dean. And tonight was no different for you in particular as you lay wide awake, staring up at the plain, white ceiling for hours on end as Dean, assumingly, slept soundly next to your restless body.

You didn’t even need to glance away from the plaster above you to notice the fair amount of distance that you had subconsciously put between the two of you in your shared bed. That acknowledgment alone caused a sad sigh to escape past your parted lips.

A quiet yawn emitted soon after and you wanted nothing more than to close tired and weary eyes and drift off to sleep but deep down, you knew it wasn’t that easy. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had a proper, full nights sleep, said sleep usually being plagued by various nightmares that often woke you up accompanied by a scream or broken sobs.

At that thought, you couldn’t help but lightly trace your fingers on the still sensitive skin of your neck; the bruises and swelling had healed but the memories behind the incident proved to be harder to get rid of.

With another quiet sigh, you sat up and slide the covers away from your frame. Being careful not to wake Dean, you threw your legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly, tiptoeing toward the door. You glanced over your shoulder, your (y/e/c) eyes landing and lingering on his peaceful persona before you rid yourself of longing thoughts and exited the room.

You quickly made your way to the spare room in which you had spent most of your nights in the past thirteen or fourteen days. No one blamed you for being scared; they both understood why you felt the way you did. You were absolutely terrified of waking up one day with Dean next to you, his eyes black and void of emotion and his hand around your throat once more.

“I wanted to see the fear trapped in your eyes whenever you saw me.”

You let out an involuntary shiver as his words from before played in your head like a loop before wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself as you settled on the cold, unfamiliar bed that you had barely grown accustomed to even after all that time.

You just wanted everything to go back to normal. You wanted to be around Dean without the memories flooding in and distancing yourself further away from him. You wanted to be with him, like how it used to be. But something was stopping you and you couldn’t seem to get around that.

“Because you’ll end up dead.”

That was the final, dreaded thought that lingered in your head as you slipped into an uncomfortable and unwelcome slumber.

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[ here, have some post-war eighth year hansy for the @slytherdornet ship spotlight challenge ]

  • they call it an eighth year.
  • it’s ridiculous, and it’s stupid, and its entirely unnecessary. pansy had gotten through most of her own seventh year unscathed; she knew how to transfigure furniture, and she knew how to brew a batch of polyjuice, and she knew how to hide. she knew how to hide well. she didn’t need to return to hogwarts and watch the war heroes feign modesty and be confronted by a splintered house table and a decaying dungeon and an ashy scorch mark where vincent crabbe had burned to death. she didn’t have anything else to learn. she didn’t.
  • but. she didn’t have anywhere else to go, either.
  • that was the thing.
  • her childhood home had been ransacked, turned over to the ministry as evidence for her father’s crimes. goyle was under house arrest and blaise was in france and draco had all but disappeared after the final battle and daphne–daphne was going back to school, of course she was, because astoria was barely fourteen and family was important.
  • pansy isn’t astoria’s sister.
  • but she’s always kind of felt a little like daphne’s.
  • so pansy zips herself into a knee length black shift dress with a lace collar and long lines of seed pearl buttons running from her wrists to her elbows, and she steps onto the hogwarts express like it’s any other september, like she belongs there, and she inspects the dark purple polish on her nails and she tucks errant strands of blunt cut hair behind her ears and she doesn’t look at anyone as she saunters down the corridor because she isn’t quite sure that she wouldn’t scream if she did.
  • which is, obviously, how she runs directly into harry potter.
  • he’s–bigger than she remembers. taller. broader. less pale and less shaky and less tired. he stumbles backwards, instinctively reaching out to steady her, and she thinks, somewhat hysterically, somewhat inanely, that she can feel the heat of his hands right through the fabric of her dress.
  • “parkinson,” he says, sounding…surprised. “er. hello.”
  • pansy swallows. “hello.”
  • potter stares down at her, a slight furrow in his brow. his grip tightens around her arms. “right. uh.”
  • “right, uh,” she mimics, meanly, before glaring at the spot where he’s still touching her. he lets go so fast that she’s amazed he doesn’t injure himself.
  • and then he’s stepping away altogether, casting an irritatingly thoughtful glance at her over his shoulder, and she’s left standing there, confused and annoyed and breathless, maybe, because that hadn’t been nearly as awful as it could have been, as it arguably should have been, and–
  • she pretends that she isnt just the tiniest bit cold as she watches potter disappear into the next train car.
  • from then on, though, it only gets weirder.
  • the castle is a mess, crumbling and curse torn and ragged around the edges, and the hufflepuffs temporarily move in with the scant remaining slytherins. pansy is sharing a room with hannah abbott. hannah abbott braids wildflowers into her hair every morning. hannah abbott’s shampoo smells like vanilla cupcakes. hannah abbott compliments pansy’s extensive collection of muggle lipsticks, and hannah abbott is conscientious about picking up after herself before the elves come around, and hannah abbott is apparently dating neville bloody longbottom.
  • “what,” pansy bleats when she gets back from a late dinner to find longbottom and finnigan and potter sitting in the slytherin common room. a half empty bottle of firewhiskey is lying on a priceless sixteenth century rug. pansy drops her bag. “what is going on?”
  • hannah abbott waves cheerfully from where she’s perched on longbottom’s lap. “pansy! you’re home!”
  • pansy is not home. home is daphne and astoria and a world that doesn’t manage to find a new way to spin backwards every time she fucking blinks. pansy is in hell.
  • three hours later, hannah has dragged longbottom off to bed, finnigan has passed out in a nearby armchair, and potter has inexplicably moved much, much closer to pansy. he’s also poured her a drink, and chuckled at one of her more acerbic jokes, and flashed her a decidedly wicked grin.
  • pansy is still in hell, probably.
  • “why are you being so nice to me?” she finally blurts out.
  • potter squints at the fireplace, glasses reflecting bloody red and fading orange and hot, bright, bitter yellow. “hannah says you read muggle magazines,” he replies, like that makes any sense at all. “the, er, fashion ones. from france.”
  • “are you very interested in women’s fashion, then, potter?” pansy coos.
  • he smirks, looking summarily unbothered, and then shrugs. “it’s exhausting hating so many people. just. takes a lot of effort, doesn’t it? holding on to all that.”
  • pansy cocks her head to the side. “so, what, you had to–to reprioritize your shit list, and i didn’t make the cut?”
  • he laughs. “i died,” he says, kind of simply. “i don’t…want to have to do that again.”
  • pansy studies the chipped rim of her mug. firewhiskey is exactly as disgusting as it had been two summers ago. she sighs. “i suppose you have a point. i–i just wanted it to be over, when i–you know. and. well. now it is.” she hesitates. it’s warm in the common room, warmer than it usually is, and she suddenly feels hopeful. reckless. the difference between bravery and fear must be in the motivation, she decides, because she’s spoken up before. this isn’t that. “maybe that’s what matters, though,” she continues. “maybe we…maybe we get to start over.”
  • potter smiles faintly, like he can’t help himself, and then squeezes her knee.
  • the fire crackles.
Out Of Hand

Type: Smut

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Plot: Yoongi never knew how to control his temper in a fight. When he finally felt the last piece of string snap in his heart, his anger flooded him with such a strong desire to lash out that he knew he couldn’t prevent it. He was afraid of hurting his, in his eyes, fragile lover, so he instead transfuses it into one of a carnal sexual desire.

Originally posted by mvssmedia

This was a somewhat request, more of a thank you to @anastaisiaramirez

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Ruby Red II

Pairing: You/Yoongi 

Genre: smut (gang!au)

Word Count: 4,729

Warning: smut, car accidents, swearing

Summary: You’ve been involved with Bangtan gang for a short while now, and you stole the massive ruby, Satan’s Heart, for them. None of you could predict the repercussions, or the feelings that might spring up in the midst of the violence.

A/N: This is Part II. You don’t have to read the first part to understand (wink wink), but it might help. Let me know what you think!

Part 1

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The Greatest Gift Epilogue (Alexander x Reader)

Word Count: 2,584

Warnings: SMUT, swears

Authors Note: I don’t even have an excuse for this. I am so sorry. God bless.

Shout out to @adolescenthowell for being a babe and always helping me through my smut writing process :) check her out!

Requests: The greatest gift part 2?

Alexander dry humping PLEASE I AM SHOOK



You stood stirring two cups of hot cocoa, one for Isabelle and one for Alexander as you admired them from the kitchen as he was sat on the couch, Isabelle on his lap, watching the last minutes of Elf the movie. His hand was unconsciously stroking through her dark hair, and you could tell she was minutes from passing out.

“Here my babes.” you called as you made your way to the couch setting the mugs on the glass coffee table.

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Words: 6,985
Sam x Reader
Warnings: language (Umm, ya, I wrote it so obviously there’s swearing… you should just take this warning as a given always for my fics), mentions of blood and injury, anxiety and fear
Summary: Sam tries to get to Y/N and wake her while Dean, Cas, and Crowley wait for their showdown with Rowena.
A/N: Alas, all good things must come to an end, and so it is with this story. I hope you enjoy reading this conclusion as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is the final part of our Mess Is Mine series.
This is part of a series! Read the other parts here! 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Your name: submit What is this?

Dean was watching the flames and smoke rise higher and higher beyond the point where Sam had disappeared into the tangled mass of thorns. He paced in his fiftieth frantic circle and stopped in front of Cas.

”I don’t like this,” he said. His green eyes were wide and frantic, and his stomach was twisting.

The angel nodded. “I know. But give him time.”

”How much time?” Dean asked. “There’s no way for us to know if something goes wrong. We can’t see shit in there!” Dean turned again to face the crumbling, smoking ruins feeling helpless and sick.

Suddenly, Crowley’s voice behind them snapped their attention elsewhere.

”We’re about to be otherwise engaged,” he said. “Hello, Mother.”

The angel and Dean whipped around to see Rowena standing just beyond Crowley, a fierce and wild light in her eyes, her red lips pressed together in a thin line. “Fergus,” she said through her teeth. “Have you not yet learned your lesson about meddling in things that don’t concern you?”

“It’s not that I don’t learn,” Crowley said. “It’s just that the thought of torturing you forever and having you at my complete and utter mercy after your betrayal is much too appealing.” He raised a hand and pressed his middle finger and thumb together.

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Better - Dean Ambrose

Dean Ambrose x OC.

Summary:  After finding out the OC has a sex toy, they make a bet on who can pleasure her the quickest and the best. Wonder who’s going to win that bet…
Warning: Smut

“My old roommate had an entire drawer full of sex toys.” I said, taking a sip of wine. Dean raised his brows at me in disbelief. “Vibrators, whips, anal beads, you name it, she had it.”

“A drawer? Why a drawer?” He scoffed, taking a sip of his own drink - whiskey on the rocks. A taste I normally cringe at.

“What do you mean “why a drawer”? It’s the perfect place to keep them, right in your nightstand. Easy access.” I shrugged, taking another sip of wine, this time finishing off the glass.

How we got on the topic of sex toys, I couldn’t even tell you.

We’ve been out on my terrace for 2 hours now, covering a variety of topics.

Everything from buying a donkey in Mexico (literally something he dreams of doing one day) to shooting clay animated elves (something I would prefer to do over buying a donkey in Mexico) and now sex toys.

“Really?” He mumbled, pushing his lips together as he thought.

All I could think about was how hot he was when he was deep in thought.

It was no secret Dean Ambrose was insanely hot. I’m sure he knew it. Girls swoon over him left and right. Especially when he’s in the ring and he taps into that “lunatic fringe” side of him. The way he moves, the grunts that escape his lips, how animalistic he becomes. Surely enough all of their panties were dripping by the end of his match. I know mine were every time.

I bit my lip, shaking off the image as stood. I chalked my candid thoughts up to the 4th glass of wine I was about to pour myself. I thought ahead and brought the bottle out with me, something I am definitely thankful for now.

“How would you know?” he asked with a wild grin on his face.

I bit my bottom lip, “Umm…” I stalled, sitting back down. I thought of my response. Normally, I would just shrug it off and crack a joke, skillfully transitioning into another topic.

But I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.

I turned my head away, glancing up at the dark sky illuminated by the full moon. I shivered from the cool breeze that was now rolling in. The only thing keeping us warm in the cool Nevada air was the fire pit directly in front of us.

“That’s where I keep mine.” I admitted as I looked down at my glass.

“Ahhh, I like the sound of that.” His gruff voice sparked something inside of me. I looked at him as he positioned his body towards me. “What do ya got?” His brows were raised curiously.

“A vibrator.” I felt my cheeks burn, so I did the one thing I knew would help ease the embarrassment - drink more wine.

“Oh really?” He seemed very intrigued as a small smirk played on his lips.

“Yeah,” I shrugged, taking another sip of wine. “It doesn’t really look like a dick though. And it’s pink. But regardless, Bob really gets the job done.” I rambled on nervously, immediately wanting to kick myself for the words that just escaped my mouth.

“Bob? You named your vibrator?”

“Um… yeah. Well, it stands for Battery Operated Boyfriend…” I trailed off before taking another gulp of wine even though I know that the rest of the bottle won’t ease the awkwardness of the conversation I just got myself into.

“Interesting.” He mumbled, nodding his head. “Mmm…” he thought. I raised my brows, turning my head towards him, still drinking down the wine.

“What?” I asked hesitantly.

There was no telling what was going on in that little lunatic’s mind.

He shook his head, slowly running his tongue over his bottom lip. I pushed my lips together, watching curiously as he leaned forward to set his glass down on the stone wall of the fire pit. When he turned towards me, he reached for my glass and pulled it away, even with my protests.

“Really Dean?! What gives?” I asked.

Dean let out a throaty chuckle as he placed his hand on my bare knee. He moved his rough palm up my leg painfully slow as if to tease me.

“Why don’t we see who really gets the job done?” he leaned in close, growling in my ear. His mouth attached itself to my neck, nipping at it. I felt a burning sensation between my thighs as his fingertips grazed the hem of my shorts.

“Mmm.. I think I have a pretty good idea of who’s going to…” I moaned.

He smirked against my neck, bringing his lips to my ear. “And who’s that?”

I knew what he wanted to hear, but I wasn’t going to give into him that easily.

“Probably Bob.” I smirked as he pulled back, his brows raised with disdain.

“Oh yeah?” He scoffed. Before I got a chance to respond, he pulled me to my feet and pulled my body against his with his hands placed firmly on my waist. “We’ll see about that.”

I could tell he was taking it as a challenge. And Dean Ambrose never turns down a challenge.

His lips closed in on mine. I shuddered as his lips finally pressed against mine, the taste of sweet whiskey still lingered on his lips. I was quick to kiss back, as I have been waiting to feel his soft lips against mine since I met him a few months back.

It was only a matter of seconds before his tongue grazed my bottom lip, begging for entrance. I didn’t want to let him in, not yet anyway. I wanted to savor this moment and tease him in the process.

It didn’t take long for him to catch on. “So you’re gonna be like that now…” He grunted.

And when he didn’t get what he wanted, he always found another way of getting it.

He snaked his hands underneath my ass, lifting me up in one swift motion. I gasped at the surprise of it, leaving my mouth vulnerable. He took his chance without hesitation, his tongue slipping into my mouth while I wrapped my legs around him.

As he carefully made his way inside, our lips never parted once. My fingers were tangled in his hair, his hands digging into my ass, pushing my body against him as if it were possible to be any closer. I broke the kiss to take a breath.

I felt his lips on my neck once again, latching on and taking the sensitive skin between his teeth, pulling back, causing a moan to escape from my throat. It hurt, but the pain only sent a pulsating jolt through my entire body.

He dropped his hands the second we reached the bedroom. He went straight for the nightstand. I swiftly pulled my shirt over my head and unclasped my bra, not wanting to waste any more time. I unbuttoned my shorts, letting them fall to the ground as I heard him shut the drawer.

“Lay down,” Dean ordered, nodding his head towards the bed. I bit my lip, doing as I was told and laid down in the middle of the bed. He tossed the vibrator next to me as his eyes scanned my body. The only thing I had left on were my purple lace panties. “Leave those on.” he said, looking at me with hunger in his eyes. “Do what you normally do when you’re alone, I want to watch you.”

I’ve never seen this side of him, but hell did it turn me on.

I turned the vibrator on as he pulled his own shirt over his head with haste, he didn’t want to miss anything. I spread my legs, bringing the vibrator down to my panties, teasing myself from the outside. I already knew I didn’t need to that much, as I was already so wet.

A moan escaped my lips when I moved my panties to the side, the vibration coming into contact with my bare skin. I let it linger for a moment, glancing over at Dean, who was staring at me, already rubbing himself through his jeans. I slid the vibrator in with ease, slick from our heated exchange just moments ago.

He pulled his pants down just enough to pull his cock out. My eyes widened at his length as I continued moving my hand in and out at a steady pace.

I closed my eyes, moaning louder. A little louder than I normally did. I wanted him to know how much pleasure it was giving me because of our little bet earlier.

It was only for show though, as all I was imagining was his hard cock inside of me instead.

The image nearly sent me over the edge. Right as I felt the pressure building inside of me, prepping for a release, I felt a hand over mine and then nothing. I opened my eyes after hearing a thud against the floor. The bed shifted and Dean was now on top of me, ripping off my panties before positioning himself at my entrance.

Before I could even take a breath, he pushed his entire length inside of me, giving no time for me to adjust to his size.

“Oh god, Dean!” I cried out, grabbing the sheets as my back arched from the intense pressure.

He smirked at my reaction, it was only his driving force.

He pulled out slowly, but only before slamming himself back into me with the same intensity as before. He continued to do this a few more times, getting the same reaction with each thrust.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he grunted with each thrust. He repositioned himself, putting my left leg over his shoulder and he was quick to fall back into a quick and steady pace.

With every thrust, I felt myself getting closer and closer to the edge. “You were right…” I breathed out.

“Right about what baby?” he groaned in my ear.

“You’re cock is so much better!” I moaned, my hands finding their way to his toned abs. “Mmm, yes, right there! I’m so close Dean…”

“I’m gonna make you cum so much harder and faster than that thing ever could,” His fingers found their way to my clit, rubbing in a steady and circular motion. I moaned, rolling my head to the side. It was only a matter of seconds before I felt the pressure begin to build once again.

My nails dug into his shoulders as I screamed out, my body crumbling beneath him as I came. Hard and so fast. Just as he promised.

His thrusts fell out of a steady pace seconds later, becoming sharp and more erratic. He quickly pulled himself out, grabbing onto his cock right as his cum squirted out onto my stomach.

We both collapsed back onto the bed, trying to catch our breath.

“Mmm, that felt so good Dean.” I sighed as he placed soft kisses on my still heaving chest.

“Good,” he kissed my neck. “Because now I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be begging me to stop.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

Heroes and Legends (pt. 2)

Previous and Next

Back at the house, Dark clears off another place at the table for the Author to sit. “It’s ah… quite messy here,” the Author notes, glancing around at the crumbled pieces of paper and the fast food bags. “You two live here together?” The Author looks between the two of them, a strange pair to say the least.

Wilford makes a face and crosses his arms over his chest. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, I just thought you two would’ve killed each other by now,” the Author shrugs and dusts a spider off his shoulder. This place is a complete mess. It’s no wonder since the two of them seem to be completely deranged, he thinks to himself.

Dark sits down at his place at the table and brushes a hand through his hair. “Listen, Author, I know we’ve talked about this before, but I really think you should reconsider living alone. We could be much stronger as a team rather than individuals.”

The Author raises an eyebrow and looks over Dark contemptuously. He’s paler than the other Egos, dressed all in black like a kid who never grew out of his emo phase with that stupid eyeliner along the bottom of his calculating eyes. Author doesn’t trust him as far as he can spit, let alone posses the desire to live with him. Not to mention there’s also Wilford with that ridiculous mustache and the accent that the Author is pretty sure he’s faking. “I’d rather be shot.”

“That can be arranged,” Wilford says with a wink, and the Author scoots his chair another inch away from the pink sociopath.

“I like living on my own, and I don’t need more power.” The Author leans his elbows on the table and stares right at Dark, daring him to make a move. “I have everything that I want. Money, fame, my writing, what else could I possibly need?”

Dark feels his temper start to rise, burning in his throat and begging to be let out, but he pulls it back and chooses instead to smile at the Author. No need to scare him away so quickly, not when he’s finally managed to get him into the house. “But don’t you see? With us, you can have all of that and more.”

The Author smirks and gestures around the dingy room. “Yes, I see you two are living the good life here.”

“This is only a temporary place, until I have what I need,” Dark assures him, perfectly articulate despite the ringing in his ears. “Together we can…”

“No, Dark,” the Author says as he rises from his place at the table. “I came here to tell you once and for all that there is no use in trying to convince me. My place is at my cabin, writing my novels, and minding my own business. If you keep pestering me, I’ll make it my personal mission to make your life a living hell. Got that?”

Wilford smiles and laughs a little, glancing over at a festering Dark. “I like him.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Dark warns Author.

The Author just shrugs and heads for the door. “Don’t worry, boys. I’ll show myself out.” With that, he’s gone.


Back at his cabin, the Author can finally relax. Being around Dark always riles him up, makes him want to take a bat to a china cabinet or something worse. He’s pretty sure it has something to do with the Ego’s black aura. It’s still weak but seems to be growing stronger by the day, and that worries Author… just a bit.

He glances around the room. His furniture he made himself, his books on the wall, and his sanctuary, why would he ever leave this for them? The pink one was almost too hard to look at. The color coming off him hurt the Author’s eyes, but he could see within the pink a strange other color, a crimson of blood and madness. In Dark, of course, he sees only gray, skewed lines and white lies and pretty words with no meaning. Here at his cabin, everything is blue and green and peaceful, colors he can deal with.

Author closes his eyes for a moment of relief before heading back into his office where his desk awaits, skewed with a thousand, brilliant colors, all leftovers from his stories dreamed up and written down and cast aside. He throws himself into his work, burying his thoughts in the words until they flow out of him at a constant rhythm in time with the bobbing of his head and the tapping of his foot.

Then something flashes in the corner of his eye, a bright streak of pink, and the Author feels the cool barrel of a gun—guns were always orange to him—pressed into his temple. Author drops his pen. “Something can be said for your subtlety, Warfstache.”

The pink Ego grins maliciously. “Yeah, I haven’t got any.”

anthem of a broken future

summary: katsuki had made plenty of mistakes growing up, but he never realized that time was fragile and he’d run out.
pairing: katsuki/ochako
word count: 2348
theme: day 1; grief

a/n: this is a part of @kacchakoangstweek!

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Synonym [Kyungsoo Semi-Smut]

This was requested a while back but I couldn’t write it sooner. Sorry to that anon that I left waiting. Anyways, it’s not super smutty but there’s some touchy parts I guess? Smut is hard [;)] no seriously, it takes some time to write and lots of imagination… anyways, enjoy. Ara~

Drops of water fell as we rapidly walked to my room. It was one of those moments where you rushed your step, kind of hiding from something, and yet you were alone. We were alone, hiding from the lights that came from outside; we made no sounds and could only hear our breathing. 
I could barely see him, standing in the middle of my room as he quickly started to undress. 

“K-Kyungsoo?” I whispered, not sure if I should close my eyes or follow him.
“I’m all soaked jagi.. and so are you. You should change before you catch a cold”
It was storming outside, it caught us off guard. I kind deny I enjoy when Kyungsoo kisses me under the rain, but being alone with him while we change, is another thing.

It’s not the first time and I doubt it will be the last, but he always manages to make me feel so nervous, even when nothing is going on. It’s like falling in love all over again, seeing how perfect he is, how flawless his silhouette it.

I probably was spacing out because I jumped the moment I felt Kyungsoo’s hand slide down my sides, embracing me from behind. 
“What are you thinking jagi?” He whispered into my ear, nipping it gently. “Is my back so breath-taking?” Soo teased.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt of course, I could feel his chest pressed against my back. I could feel his breathing match mine, I could feel his heart beating really fast.
“Soo… What are you doing?” I turned in his arms, facing that sweet boy that held me so close. I didn’t have to wait an answer to know what to do next. Our lips met with a gentle pressure, fire growing inside of me. Just a kiss was enough to make my knees crumble. 
“Do you know jagi… how much I love having you close?” He whispered, his hands playing with my jeans. Everywhere he touched, I felt like sparkles.
“H-how much?” I could barely speak, the heat in the room increased rapidly. Yet it all felt so pure, my room turned to be our sanctuary, our little paradise. The heat was the synonym of the love that emerged from the bottom of our hearts. Kyungsoo’s touch was like a physical poem, a sweet and warm melody. 
Carefully, he picked me up in his arm and carried me to the bed, before laying me down and slowly crawling on top of me. “You’ll see…”

“Did you heard that?!” He stopped his his kissing-my-whole-body-session. “I think it was the front door…”
“Must be my roommate…” I mentally slapped myself, of course she would come exactly in the precise moment when Kyungsoo had finally decide to show me his love. 
I guess I looked a little frustrated because he suddenly began laughing.
“What’s so funny Soo?!” I pouted.
He went back to kiss my hip bones, biting them a little. “Well… we have two options” His eyes looked directly into mine, making my whole body chill. “We can stop and watch a movie or…” He continued “We can be very quiet… and go to that place we’ve been wanting to go for quite some time now”
I knew that the synonym of that place was our sanctuary aka love and all the carnal actions it derived. I couldn’t deny I have been craving for his touch and more than just his touch for a while now. I couldn’t just refuse his offer because he was everything I wanted, our bodies cried for each other’s touch.
And he knew I felt that way, he knew that I didn’t want to stop.
“I love you jagi” He kissed me before his hands continued to wander over my body. “And I love being here… just you and me”

I could hear the rain drops, hitting my window. I could hear the traffic sounds of the city. I could see the street lights barely illuminating the room, enough for me to see the perfect silhouette that laid on top of me.
I could hear him groan in my ear, I could see those beautiful dark eyes that couldn’t leave mine for just a second.
And I could feel.
Feel how slowly he took me to that paradise, to that quiet place. The sanctuary we both built.



Summary: You just decide to test Cass, because you don’t know if he likes you or not.

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Warinings: smutty smut, kinda fluffy (if it needs a warning lol)

Words: 1389

A/N: | Again, sorry for every mistake I made, English isn’t my first language. |

Well, I was wondering if I should tag you or not, but I thought that you may like it, so here you are.


@katymacsupernatural  @splendidcas @casbabydontgoineedyou  @greenappleeyes 

P.S. I love your work <3

(not my GIF)


It was exactly a year since you were living in the bunker with boys, exactly a year since you hadn’t any action and it was a year since you decided that you need to be with the Angel. That year was difficult; Cass was… weird. One time he was overprotective, no matter if it was a monster, ghost or just a men that was trying to pick you up, and the other times, you felt invisible to him. Boys were making jokes about that.

One day, Dean heard you pleasuring yourself and moaning the Angel’s name and he was teasing you about that for two weeks. And you were sick of this by now.

So, that one evening with your boys and whisky you thought about a great plan. You decided to test your Angel. If he won’t be madly in love with you and your body after the attempts, you will stop and find yourself a date.


The next evening was the perfect time for your first plan. Castiel showed up and was doing research with boys, they were looking for a new case, so you went to your room and changed. Well, you just take off your flannel and bra, leaving yourself in just your tight tank top. You loved your boobs and you knew that no men can take their eyes off of you. You made sure that your nipples were hard and then you headed to library.

One step in the room and six pairs of eyes were on you. Dean shift in his chair, Sam tried to not look, and Cass… Well, Cass covered himself more in his trench coat and licked his lips not even trying to not be seen. You smiled to everyone and pretended that you saw nothing.

“What’s up, boys?” you sat beside Sam, opposite Castiel and Dean.”Found something?” That look on their faces… They had no idea what you were talking about, so you laught. “Guys, I live here a year now, you should get used to it.” your words hit Dean and he smirked, but before he could answer you, Cass caught.

“You live with two guys, you shouldn’t walk around this place like this.” said your Angel, which caused you to raised your eyebrows.

“That’s just Dean and Sam and you shouldn’t care.” you smiled kinda horridly, but deep down you knew that this was the reaction you wanted. “I will walk around this place naked,”you stood up and started walking away without turning around.”and you have nothing to say, because this place is my home, and, oh, look” you took off your tank top and tossed it somewhere”in my home, I do what I want to do.”

You were sure you heard all of them moaning, when they saw your naked back, but you went streight to your room.

That night you heard not only your moans, but Dean’s and Sam’s as well. You had no idea that both of them would whispered your name, but it was really amusing and it turned you on even more, but you wanted Cass to break.

You stoped wearing a bra and get used to see Winchester brothers with boners or not see them at all. It was strange to you, but funny. Both of them knew that you wanted to break Castiel and, guessing by the groans and moans at night and smiles in the meantime of the day, they didn’t cared as long as you were okay with them pleasuring themselves to the thought of you.


And then, after a week, Cass showed up again, just before you went to the shower. Your fate wanted you to met Dean in the hall so you told him about your second plan and he joined it with a huge smile. You went to get a shower and he stole your clothes, it was this simple.

“Dean? What is it?” asked Castiel just after older Winchester crossed threshold of map room. “Is that… These aren’t (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, they are.” he smiled. “You can count the seconds, she will be here any minute, wet, angry and only in…”

“Dean!!!” you screamed, knowing you have to be really mad at him. “Dean Winchester! Where are my clothes?!” you stood just at the door. Your hair wet, only in a fluffy towel. You met Cass’ blown eyes and before you knew it, you where standing in your room, opposite Castiel.

He rushed twords you and crashed his lips on yours. You never thought that Castiel would be this great at kissing. His lips were soft, but the kiss was taking your breath away and made your knees weak. Leaning on his chest, you felt his erection pressed at your stomach. His hands hugged your face, just so you couldn’t break, and he just throw that towel on the floor. Not breaking the kiss, he put you on the bed of yours and made himself comfortable above you. He nestled his head in your neck and left there a few kisses then he traveled lower.

You moand when his lips found your nipple and sucked it. His hands were everywhere, but not where you needed his touch most and it was driving you crazy.

“Cass..”you begged. “Cass, please.” he groaned and rocked his hips into yours which caused you to squirm. He lowerd his mouth, kissing his way through your belly and he easly found your throbing clit and licked it. “Cass!” you were sure that Winchesters heard you, but you didn’t care, the only thing that was important right now was that men between your legs.

He pressed his tounge flat to your clit and started doing circles around your entry with his finger. Your hands found its place in his hair and when you pulled him, he moand.

“(Y/N),” he started softly, ”I never thought that you could be this wet for me.” his words tickled you in a way that you never felt. He started to kiss and lick your sex like a primal, but you found in it a lot of a plan.

You felt your climax even before he slip his long fingers in you, but when he curled them, you fell of the edge, screaming his name and squirm under his touch. He rode you through your orgasm and got up to look at you. His smile was your blessing.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N). Are you gonna cum for me one more time?” you couldn’t stop that smirk that climed up to your mouth.

“Just one more?” you raised your eyebrows.

“I was waiting for it since the day I met you, I can’t wait any longer to fuck you.” he said simply, starting to rock his hips into yours which took your breath away, so you just nodded.

“Please, Cass, make me yours.” you murmured between moans and your lust made him want you even more.

He snapped his fingers and was completely naked. Skin to skin, finally. He thrust into you easly and nestled his head in your neck again, moaning. Starting pace was slow, but soon, it was really fast, at the same time - not rough.

You felt that tightness in your lower belly and you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming.

“Come, (Y/N), come on, love.” he whisperd and you fell another time, screaming, begging, moaning. Soon after you, he began to be a mess, crumbling and leaving kisses everywhere on your body, you back up your hips to give him the realise you wanted him to have; you just simply rode his orgasm.

“Oh my, (Y/N), don’t stop, please… Don’t you dare stopping…” his tone was everything you wanted; he shook and then he reached his own climax, losing his breath.

Cass fell beside you and tried to catch his breath. You cuddled to his chest, happy that you made him such a mess.

“Wow” he whisperd. “Dean should steal your clothes more often.” Castiel kissed your temple.

“I don’t think we need him to butt in again” you smiled. “I love you, Cass.” you said quickly.

“Rest, (Y/N).”he hugged you hard and covered carefully. “I love you too, love.” he said right to your ear and you fell asleep with a huge smile.

Adrien the Civilian

For ML Angst Week of @miraculous-weeks

Day 1: Mistakes/Aftermath

It’s my first time doing something like this so… Enjoy the angst? It’s 3000 words and only lightly edited so I put a read more ok im sorry

Warning: Character death, heavy angst. You’ve been warned.

Edit: I just realized I also hit the other day’s prompts? I—

AO3 link

It wasn’t supposed to happen that way.

It was just a simple akuma attack. Just like any other.

The Baker, he was simply called, had the ability to turn everything into bread. He was a giant, however, easily towering halfway over Collège Françoise Dupont, and he wielded a giant rolling pin that could flatten everything in his path. The plan was simple—Ladybug would use her Lucky Charm, a bag of flour, and Chat Noir would come in and destroy the giant rolling pin with his Cataclysm. It wasn’t like they could just break that thing over their knees and call it a day, after all.

With their usual team effort, they had managed to blind The Baker with the flour and trip him with Ladybug’s string. She then hollered at him to use Cataclysm on the akuma’s rolling pin.

“Now!” she’d shouted, urgently.

He only did as he was told.

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