when they stand next to each other they look like the at&t bars

Our Little Secret-Part One

Summary: After a hunt and quite a few drinks the boys learn that you aren’t as ‘experienced’ in one department as they thought you were. Dean thinks he can rectify that

Series Masterlist

Characters: Dean, Sam, Reader

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Square Filled/Kink: Oral Fixation for @spnkinkbingo

Word Count: 4700

Warnings: Smut, oral (male and female receiving), insecure reader, language

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. This is the first part of what I hope is a lengthy and smutty series. Any feedback is always appreciated. This is also for @emilywritesaboutdean and @wheresthekillswitch ‘s Do It Like TFW Challenge (The gif is near the bottom)

A thank you to my beta @ayeronda for betaing at an ungodly hour and being so wonderful.


It’s been a long ass day and an even longer hunt. You were more than happy to be sitting on Dean’s bed in the boys’ motel room, sipping on your second, or maybe it is the third beer. And that was just here, it wasn’t counting the four or five shots you had had down at the bar. So now you were here and Sam was riding Dean hard about his strikeout at the bar.

“Dude, you were never going home with her.”

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”

You can’t help but chuckle, “What? Two whole minutes?”

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@thunderboltsortofapenny said: No no let’s do this! Why would steve need to be fake married. Or why would bucky need to be fake married to Steve. We need a reason. #Viper do the thing #It’ll be fun!

So I did the thing, and it’s stupid and terrible, but here, have it:


Bucky’s an EMT. Normal guy, just living his life, trying to help where he can. And then one day, all of a sudden, the aliens are invading NYC, and Bucky’s out there helping, right in the middle of the danger zone because of course he is.

There’s a fight going on, and a bunch of freaks in weird suits seem to be fighting the aliens, but Bucky doesn’t have much time to focus on anything other than all the people in dire need of medical attention. He does what he can to help, grabs the first metal bar he can find and fights only the aliens getting in his way, and works himself to exhaustion. Then there’s a blast, and it sends a man flying right into the wall next to him.

“Hey, you okay?” Bucky asks, rushing to help him, and though Bucky could’ve sworn the blow was hard enough to crush anyone’s ribs, he’s surprised to see the man–who must’ve been on his way to a costume party–stand up practically unscathed.

He’s got broad shoulders and a strong jaw and eyes of the prettiest shade of blue Bucky’s ever seen, and even with his face covered in soot and grime and blood, Bucky’s heart skips a beat.

For a few seconds the man seems a bit disoriented, then he finally registers Bucky’s presence. “What are you doing here?? Get out of the streets!”

“I was–” Bucky starts, and is cut off by an explosion right above their heads and a bunch of debris raining down on them, and a hand shoving him aside.

When he comes to, which is a surprise in itself, the dust has started to clear, and the man who’s clearly saved his life is carrying him as if he weighed nothing, concern in those beautiful eyes and a big, warm hand pressed tenderly against Bucky’s neck, checking for a pulse.

He locks eyes with Bucky and sighs in relief, the hint of a smile on his plush lips, but the hand remains where it is. “Hi,” he says. “You all right?”

“Y-yeah… Thank you,” Bucky replies, but he doesn’t move to free himself of the man’s arms. His stomach is doing something weird, and the man surely has other people to rescue, but for a few seconds they both just stay there, shell-shocked and staring at each other like the world around them has stopped.

Then something blows up nearby, and the spell is broken.

Carefully, the man helps him to his feet, makes sure Bucky’s in one piece, and then says, “Find shelter, okay? Stay inside.”

Bucky’s not planning to, but he can’t find it in him to tell that to this incredible man, so he slowly licks his lips and nods. Before turning around to leave, the man offers him a small, shy smile.

- - - - -

During the next few weeks after the Chitauri attack on NYC, every single piece of footage of the Avengers fighting against the aliens and helping civilians goes viral. Phone videos, security cameras, blurry pics.

The most popular, by far, is a snapshot of Captain America carrying a guy, who can be seen fighting aliens and helping people in other videos, bridal style, thumb caressing his jaw, and both looking like lovestruck teenagers.

Bucky can’t go to the grocery store or even do his job without being stalked by the paparazzi or Cap’s groupies or just random people wanting to know what his Avenger name is, and for how long he’s been dating Captain America.

- - - - -

“You’ve ruined my life!!” Bucky tells him, because of course, of course Captain America would pick Bucky’s park for his morning run. Of course Bucky’d slip on wet leaves on the pavement precisely this morning, and of fucking course Captain America would just happen to be around to catch him at just the right time. Bucky’s seeing red.

“I’m sorry,” Captain America says, and it’s extremely unfair just how genuine and how much like a kicked puppy he looks.

Christ, Bucky wants to punch him.

- - - - -

Steve’s been living in PR hell.

He’s spent the past weeks “saving” girls and boys alike from getting hit by a bicycle, or fainting, or a fuckton of equally stupid shit.

The second anyone spots Captain America, there’ll suddenly be some kind of dangerous situation going down, and someone hoping Cap will carry them bridal style to safety and maybe fall head over heels in love with them in the process.

Steve is tired and done and ready to get back in the ice for another few decades, and shares Pepper’s worries that someone might actually put themself in real danger soon.

“We should handle this before it gets worse,” Nat says. And Steve agrees, of course, but he just doesn’t know how.

“Just marry the guy,” Clint suggests.

Steve almost chokes to death on his own spit.

“WHAT?”

Clint shrugs. “Why not? Half the world already thinks you’re dating…”

“Clint, he hates me…”

“Only cause people keep pestering him about this. If you two get married it’ll be a circus, but then it’ll blow over. He can’t even do his job right now, right? So you pay the guy for the trouble, yadda yadda, then when this is over you two get a quick divorce, and that’s it. Problem solved.”

For two minutes, no one else opens their mouth. Then:

“He’s got a point…”

“Tony, no,” Steve whines.

“You saw the footage, how he was helping those civilians… If you have to marry someone, he’s not a bad candidate,” Nat says, and then smirks. “Plus, he’s cute.”

Steve already knows he’s lost this battle, but that doesn’t help him feel any better about this. Yes, he’s cute. Yes, he’s a brave and kind and smart guy. Yes, Steve could very easily pretend to be married to him for a while and yes it’d help them both. None of that’s the problem.

The problem is that he kind of really likes the guy.

The problem is that the guy hates him.

This is a really, really bad idea.

The Bedroom Mentor

Originally posted by a-marvelous-bean

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader

Request: Hey doll :) I had an idea but I’m not sure if you like it. You’re a recruit for SHIELD and get trained by the Avengers and your Mentor is Bucky. So during the time together you slowly fall in love with each other but you reject him one time cause you don’t want to get in Trouble and leave the Training upset. Later that evening Buck Comes to your room and wants to have a talk with you but he can’t contain himself and you both end up having sex :) then he holds you and asks you to be his ? :) -anon

Warnings: language, smut/unprotected sex (18+), nsfw, some oral (male receiving)

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: I listened to Africa by Toto on repeat while I wrote this whole fic. I don’t really have an explanation why, but it happened. I really enjoyed this three-day break from my first week of school but now it’s back to classes tomorrow. Anyways, feel free to send in more requests! Hope this is what you were lookin’ for!


A few months ago, Nick Fury had hunted you down in the middle of one of your freelance missions and offered you a position working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Naturally, your first instinct was to laugh in his face. Working for him and the organization meant having to abide by someone else’s rules, which, up until that point, you had always taken whatever missions you wanted, and never had to follow any other rules besides your own. But here you are, three months later, lacing up your shoes to get ready to start your training with the Avengers. Each new recruit - no matter how much experience they’ve had prior to joining S.H.I.E.L.D. - is required to go through the training, and are assigned mentors. You haven’t been told who your mentor will be yet, but honestly, you just wanted to get this over with.

You sigh and push up from the bench in the locker room, and saunter down the hallway leading to the training room as you threw your hair up into a quick, tight ponytail. Pushing through the door, you’re greeted by a bright, natural light streaming in through the skylights of the training room, and spot Fury standing near the main entrance.

“Y/N, glad you could join us,” Fury’s sarcastic voice rings out through the air as you jog up to them. You immediately recognize the other man towering behind him as James Buchanan Barnes - the Winter Soldier. Like everyone else on Earth, you were very well aware of who Bucky is - or, more accurately, was. He was strikingly gorgeous. His thick, soft locks of hair were pulled back into a bun, and the scruff on his face made his jawline look even sharper than usual. The tight black t-shirt stretched across his broad chest looked like it could rip if he breathed too deeply, and it was paired with slouching sweatpants and black tennis shoes. The smooth metal of his left arm glistened in the light. You were convinced you had never seen a man more beautiful than him, and you tried your best to brush away the steamy thoughts surfacing in your mind.

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Poets and Parties

Originally posted by got7europe

Author: @kpopfanfictrash , as part of the @kpoptrashnetwork ‘s Fall Collaboration Project. Welcome to the GOT Halloween Party, a series with @iwonchubebe (Missed) and @rude–jude (Like an Animal)

Rating: 18 + (explicit sex)

Word Count: 5,037

Prompt: “I’m trick-or-treating with my kid and you answered the door and oh - fuck me, you’re seriously the hottest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Summary: As part of the campus little buddies program, you’re bringing Abby trick-or-treating. When she runs up to the GOT (Gamma Omega Tau) fraternity house though, and Jaebum opens the door - everything that once was sensible flies out of your brain. 

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{Special} College!AU Yuta
  • major: plant biology
  • minor: n/a
  • sports: soccer team
  • clubs: photography club, earth coalition, did debate team for a while but only because he liked getting into arguments with doyoung in front of people LOL
  • is really popular, fun, and relaxed,,,,,,you can see him taking a stroll from the library to the lab looking absent mindedly at the trees or at the sky
  • but don’t underestimate him,,,,,because he’s actually really smart and organized
  • a lot of the research he does in his courses is praised by his teachers even though he’ll play it off and be like “ah~ i got it right? what luck!”
  • but in front of other students he’s like hell yeah im the prince of the plant biology major ~~
  • likes nature so decided he may as well make a career out of it, also taeil told him once that he looked good in white so getting to wear the lab coat kinda makes him giddy
  • but he frequently likes to hike and go to forests,,,even on days when it isn’t required for his major
  • flirts naturally with everyone, from the TA in class, to the people in his group, to people in completely different majors, once came in to check up on an experiment his group was doing on some eucalyptus plants and i shit u not he touched a leaf and was like “ahhhh, you look pretty today~” to the freaking plant
  • tried to tutor for plant ecology but yuta has this thing where he can plan everything perfectly in his head but when he gets to actually trying to explain anything he’s like ah,,,well,,,you see,,,,one plant,,,and other plant,,,,become friends??? wait no,,,,,biologically plants cant make friends,,,,,,they,,,,,,interact? first date? yEARS of EVOLUtiON haVE CREATed This pLANT,,,,,,,,,,,,does that not make sense
  • but hey,,,he tried his best
  • doyoung calls him “narcissist nakamoto” anytime they see each other on campus dfldskdg
  • but honestly,,,he’s not wrong,,,,,because every soccer game the uni has yuta somehow ends up flashing that handsome smile of his and ending up on the front page of the uni’s sports website, the uni journal, hell even the other teams school has photos of yuta because he’s undeniably attractive
  • esp in a soccer uniform with his hair pulled back, pretty sweat down his strong jawline, and his eyes that can go literally from ^__^ to the most sERIOUS expression
  • comes of cool~ and suave~ and like suuuuuch a smooth talker
  • but all of his friends just sneer when people gush about yuta because they’re all like “this is the dork who calls his mom at like midnight and says he misses her and cries” and also apparently enjoys kidlike things like amusement parks and kamen rider 
  • “isn’t yuta soooo manly and dreamy~?”
  • taeyong somewhere: he collects anime figures don’t trust him
  • jokes jokes
  • but it’s cute,,,,yuta is all flower boy charm in his pressed lab coat and brilliant big smile and always trying to show off that he’s a gentlemen 
  • but also squishing winwin’s cheeks during lunch because wahhh so cute and getting all happy over the new pokemon release like,,,,,how soft
  • his dorm is slightly disheveled but it proves that he works hard with stacks of books and highlighters alongside the many trophies and medals he’s won for the school
  • (and ofc,,,,,his kamen rider figurines lmfao)
  • but yep it’s summer!!! which means a lot of kids have left the campus but some classes are still going on
  • you happen to not be taking any,,,,but you get a job at the local fair that’s going to run all summer a couple blocks away from the uni so you decide it’d be better to just stay in the dorm and well,,,,,make that Money
  • yuta,,,,,,,is also staying but that’s because one of his group studies is being conducted by a teacher who won’t be back in the fall
  • and tbh you only know yuta vaguely,,,,you’re friends with jaehyun who has talked about him and you’ve seen him in the school news
  • but,,,,,you’ve also “heard” rumors about him,,,,,how apparently he likes to flirt as much as possible and isn’t really interested in anything serious
  • someone once said something about how he accepted ten confessions in a day but then broke up with the girls through text
  • and you don’t???? know him???? but those rumors feel weird and full of jealousy
  • but at the same time like what is it your business anyway not like you and yuta have ever interacted 
  • until,,,,,,that changes
  • see your job at the fair is pretty simple,,,,you sell tickets to the ferris wheel and tell people which cabins to sit in
  • the ferris wheel is pretty tiny considering this isn’t a permanent fair,,,,and the rides like 5 minutes tops,,,,,but it gets fairly popular
  • esp at night when all the couples walk by sharing ice-creams and cuddling up close when they buy tickets
  • and secretly you’re like blEGh,,,but at the same time cant lose this job so u just smile and sell tickets
  • and??? that’s when you notice that almost every night
  • yuta comes by
  • and you know it’s him from the face but also,,,you’ve heard him speaking japanese on the phone when buying tickets,,,,,and you don’t think anything of it
  • but he keeps only,,,buying,,,,one ticket,,,,,every night
  • and idk you don’t want to say anything because maybe,,,,this is his stress relief from summer classes????? but at the same time everyones saying this popular boy who could have anyone he wants on campus is spending his nights. alone. on the ferris wheel
  • somehow, without either of you saying much to each other you memorize the time he comes by and save a ticket just in case 
  • like two weeks into this whole ordeal you dont even ask him to pay you just hand him the ticket and yuta gives you a look but you’re just like,,,,,go
  • because honestly you start thinking up ridiculous scenarios like,,,maybe he cries in there???? maybe the ride reminds him of a lost loved one??? maybe,,,,,,,,he uses it as a place to scream out all his frustration 
  • and the tickets are way 2 overpriced anyway college kids need to help each other out
  • but ,,,, the night before the third week of summer classes starts yuta finally says something to you 
  • and when he does you almost fall down,,,,because????? but as you slide the ticket over he goes “this place closes in half an hour, right?”
  • you nod 
  • and he’s like “ill be by the entrance. let me treat you to dinner.” 
  • at first you think you’ve heard wrong - maybe that he needs to treat someone to dinner
  • but when you meet his gaze, yuta smiles and is like “i promise to be there.” before walking off like it’s the moST Casual thing to ask a STRANGER to dinner
  • it shocks you so much that you barely manage to stutter out a “ok” when he’s literally gone
  • as,,,,he promised yuta is standing at the entrance as you come out still wearing your uniform t-shirt with the fairs name sprawled across the front
  • and yuta motions to it and is like “cute” and you’re like um,,,,,,what is happening
  • and he smiles again,,,so bright even though it’s nearing ten pm and he’s like “i know you,,,,,not from the fair but from college. you go to the same one as me.” 
  • you nod slowly but you’re still obviously confused
  • which only makes yuta chuckle, throwing his head back a bit when he does but he’s like “don’t worry, im not being creepy or whatever. it’s just,,,,,i know you’ve been giving me the tickets for free for a while so i thought i should do something nice back.”
  • the sentiment calms you down a bit,,,even though you try to say it’s fine you don’t need to be treated but yuta just throws his hand around you
  • pulling you by the shoulder closer and he’s like “nah,,,,we college students need to jump at any chance we get not to waste money - so c’mon!”
  • and that’s how you end up at a small stall at the night market,,,,yuta piling food onto the tiny plastic table as you watch him balance drinks in his other hand
  • for a moment you think back to those photos you’d seen of him on the school website. the star shining athlete of the soccer team
  • yet here he was,,,,looking something close to a fool,,,,,but in the most endearing way
  • you don’t expect to talk with him for a longtime,,,,but you do. 
  • yuta has a way of making people feel comfortable,,,,he’s obviously sociable and sweet and it’s hard not to like someone who gives compliments and actually seems interested in you
  • especially since the summer semester has left you pretty lonely on campus,,,,
  • but when you check your watch you’re shocked to see it’s nearing 1am and you have a shift tomorrow at the fair 
  • so hurriedly you and yuta clean up and practically sprint back to the dorms,,,,yuta making a joke about how he hasn’t run this much since soccer practice ended 
  • but as you stop in front of your dorm yuta says your name,,,,,smiling and adding that he’ll see you tomorrow before heading off into the other direction 
  • and it’s not till your brushing your teeth,,,,,looking in the mirror that you realize,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,that you just hung out with nakamoto yuta
  • the next night yuta shows up as usual,,,,this time he slips something toward you in exchange for the ticket,,,,,,a ice-cream bar from the grocery 
  • he says that it must suck to not be able to leave and take snacks and you look at the ice cream and go “how did you know my fav-”
  • and he grins and is like “ah, did you forget, you told me yesterday~ i personally like their green tea flavor more but,,,,”
  • and with that he waves,,,,going toward the ride and you sit there,,,,looking at the ice cream
  • and before you know it,,,there’s a small smile on your face
  • yuta is even waiting for you at the entrance again so you guys can walk back to campus together
  • this,,,happens for a bit,,,,,and then there’s a day when you have off and you pass yuta on campus only to have him call out to you and pout because you’re not at work~ he won’t see you later??
  • and you’re like nope i have the day off, you’ll actually have to pay for your ticket tonight 
  • he makes a face that makes you burst into giggles and he’s like ill have to call my sister for more money at this point,,,,,,,or oh,,,,,should i try and get doyoung to use his card,,,,
  • you shake your head because what street fair accepts cards???? and he’s like rats ur right,,,,,,
  • but it’s cute seeing him like this,,,,, in the daylight,,,,,eyes sparkling and pretty,,,,,,,
  • bUT you shake that thought off as soon as you see a group of underclassman walking by and calling out to yuta,,,,,saying something about how he still owes them all lunch or something
  • and the rumors you’d tried to forget come back to you,,,,,,,because hey he probably isn’t treating you any differently than how he treats others
  • catching feelings for him???? Big No No
  • but yuta turns back and says he’ll see you tomorrow then and there’s a hint of happiness in his tone,,,,,but again you’re sure you’re imagining it
  • so why is it that the next evening,,,,your stomach is full of butterflies,,,,,,you’re practically straining your neck to see if yuta is coming,,,,,,
  • the moment you see the familiar silhouette you start adjusting your hair and shirt,,,,,,,,god it makes you feel embarrassed but also,,,,,when his face appears in the window,,,,,smiling and happy
  • it makes your heartbeat surge and you mentally have to keep yourself in check as yuta tells you about something doyoung texted him this afternoon 
  • tbh as you hand him the single ticket,,,,,you get the sudden urge to ask ‘why don’t you ever take someone with you on the ride? like on a date?’
  • but you know you shouldn’t say something like that
  • but when you feel his hand brush against yours,,,,,you just,,,,,,you burst
  • “yuta, why don’t you ever ride the ferris wheel with someone else? someone,,,,,,special?”
  • yuta seems taken back,,,,,for a split moment even speechless but he just looks down at the ticket and you,,,,snap back into reality
  • and start to apologize because that was,,,,,rude of you,,,,,super rude,,,,,god why do you never thinK properly before speaking
  • but yuta just chuckles and is like “ok, you’re right i should take someone special can you give me another ticket?”
  • your heart literally drops into your stomach,,,,because,,,,,he does have someone special,,,,,,,,,,,,
  • but hiding your trembling hands as you print the ticket you hand it to him only to have yuta give it back and he’s like “let’s go.”
  • honestly speaking you shouldn’t ever leave your post at the ticket stand but the park is closing in ten minutes and there isn’t another person in sight so when yuta pulls you in behind him ,,,,,,
  • you find yourself sitting in the see-through cabinet,,,,,the lights of the two flickering below you as the wheel starts to turn
  • and you’re too busy looking at the view to notice yuta is staring at you
  • funnily enough,,,even though you’ve worked most of your summer there,,,,you’d actually never gotten to ride it before
  • so with the sudden invitation to get on,,,,,you kind of got excited,,,,,taking your phone out even to take photos
  • until you hear yutas voice
  • “so, ive taken someone special now. are you happy?”
  • and you look at him and blink,,,,,,,because wait,,,,,,,,are you that special someone???????
  • but ur like no no no way and so you change the topic and you’re like “why do you ride this every night? does it help you think?” 
  • but yuta just shrugs and is like “no. i just like it. i,,,,,,like it enough to ride it twice,,,,,three times but,,,,,,,”
  • and you look up from your phone at him and suddenly he’s leaning over
  • hand coming up to hold the side of your neck
  • and just as you reach the top you feel his lips against yours before he’s pulling away and whispering “but i like you so much that i thought if i come everyday,,,,if i ride this everyday,,,,,won’t they notice me in time?”
  • and,,,,,,,,no one has ever,,,,,,so straightforwardly,,,,,,,said something like that to you so you’re shocked,,,,, 
  • nearly dropping the phone in your hands but,,,,,,,,,but also,,,,,,you manage to ask “w-why?”
  • and yuta laughs,,,,,,hand on his stomach and he’s like “seriously? why? because,,,,,i saw you and it was like i was looking at my dream,,,,,,the person of my dreams,,,,,,,,and then when we got to talk i knew it was right. that you’re the one.”
  • the ferris wheel starts moving slowly again and once you and yuta get to the bottom you step out of the cabin,,,,,still trying to process the confession from him
  • when yuta’s hand slips into yours and he’s like c’mon your shift is over. let me treat you again.
  • and,,,,,,,you follow him but suddenly halfway down the streetyou stop and yuta turns to look at you and you’re like,,,,,,, “don’t play around.”
  • and he’s like ? what
  • and you yank your hand from his and you’re like “don’t play around with me. i don’t want to be just another person you woo and then,,,,,and then dump.”
  • yuta watches you,,,,,nervously looking toward the ground and he lets out a sigh and is like “do you think im playing? do you know how much money i spent on that ferris wheel in the first two weeks? 6 bucks for 6 days out of the week. that’s 36 a week, that’s 72 for tWO YOU KNOW WHAT 72 DOLLARS IS FOR A COLLEGE GUY DONT YOU”
  • and you look up and he’s like “listen,,,,,,some rumors about me are true. like how i stare out the window during class like a moron but am also ranked in the top five of my major. yeah i tend to fall over things because im not looking, but im still the ace of the soccer team. and yeah,,,,,,,,,i like to talk and be nice to lots of people but im not a player. my feelings for you are for real.”
  • you swallow the lump in you throat,,,but you’re also like,,,,,,,r-really?
  • and yuta is like yES really now do you feel the same or no?
  • you look at his outstretched hand,,,,,,,and you look at him,,,,,,,the smiling boy who’d treated you to dinner, who’d come everyday not to ride the ferris wheel but to see you,,,,,,,,,,,,and you take his hand
  • because what is there to lose in trusting this handsome, sweet guy,,,,,,who just happens to love corny things like the ferris wheel LOL
  • and most people cant believe yuta is actually dating,,,,,,,,,but not because of those stupid rumors but because he seemingly has never been interested
  • and when you meet his friends for the first time johnny asks if yuta didn’t perhaps pay you on the downlow to pretend-
  • but yuta is like heY im not you mr. chicago and ur like ????? and johnny is like fine fine fine
  • taeyong pats your shoulder and is like “good luck, he’s a handfull.”
  • you also learn of yuta’s undying fondness when it comes to transfer winwin which you dont mind because,,,,,the kids adorable and you and yuta are both like “he’s so cute” like 24/7
  • much to the disdain of literally everyone else,,,,,,,,winwin is lowkey savage though he told you once that you were too good for yuta who apparently is much more airheaded than it seems
  • but you were sure he was joking
  • until yuta literally almost burned down the dorm trying to make homemade takoyaki,,,,,,
  • but boyfriend!yuta is just,,,,,the best
  • he’s so fun and upbeat and never,,,,,like,,,,,,pushy
  • like sure he makes jokes about being prince of plant biology or the only man worthy of your attention
  • but he’s coming from a place of genuine love,,,,,and his want of your attention
  • which is kinda cute because if you ignore him for more than like twenty minutes you meet aegyo!yuta which,,,,,,,can either infuriate you or melt you it’s always a 50/50 draw on that one
  • yuta also loves taking photos which is something you leaned when everytime you’d go on a date he’d start taking candids of you
  • and you’d be like babe im just ordering off the menu we don’t need to take pic- but yuta is already like its fine i took one of you and it’s up on insta i tagged you check it out
  • his sister calls to check up on him and you’re always nervous to talk to her,,,,even though she roasts yuta to you and it’s amazing,,,but you’re always like i want your family to like me,,,,and yuta is like how could they not like you when i like you so freaking much
  • his sister told you about his flowershop job in highschool which you think is just the CUTEST so you always jokingly ask him to get you pretty custom bouquets 
  • but the thing is,,,,,,,,he does,,,,,,,he really does
  • and he surprises you with this big arrangement on the 100th day of dating and each flower has a meaning for what he thinks about you and it’s so beautiful,,,,,,,,yuta no matter how greasy he comes off secretly is a big sappy romantic. fight me on this
  • takes you hiking with him and if you get tired he’s always trying to get you to let him carry you and you’re like NO and he’s like “why not i am a man of nature, man of the mountains-” and ur like man of the mountains when you drop me accidentally off the cliff hell no nakamoto
  • if anything you do like hearing him talk about his major,,,,because people think he’s good looks and athleticism
  • but he’s also so smart,,,,,and his notes are all over the place sure but he knows what he’s doing and it makes you so proud
  • you caught him dancing in the lab once when he thought no one was alone. did he serenade a plant? he most def did
  • the hottest thing about him though,,,,is during his soccer matches it’s like 0 to 10000. at the beginning he smiles and waves at you blows air kisses and does the usual cringy sappy stuff
  • but,,,,,once the game is in heat,,,,,he changes completely
  • the softness in his eyes and smile are gone,,,,,,it’s just a fierce stare and raw determination 
  • and,,,,,,it’s ,,,,,,,,,a turn on especially when he wins and runs up the bleachers right up to you to get a kiss and slip his medal off to put around your neck
  • liKE,,,,,,,how idea,,,,,,,,,also getting to shower with him afterward?????? even more ideal
  • even though yuta can get pretty interesting,,,,intimately he’s always mush and goo for the kisses you give him on the tummy
  • when you both are just lazing around and he’s playing some 3ds game and you heads on his stomach going through your phone and you just lift up the hem of his shirt and kiss his tummy 
  • he makes the cutest,,,,,,,like the CUTEST hehehehe laugh,,,,,,,
  • “yuta,,,,don’t you have lab hours to do?” “yes,,,,but i also have cuddle hours to do so get over here”
  • when you’re upset,,,,,,yuta is,,,,,actually really good at comforting, he reminds you that he’s here,,,,,,by your side and nothing will hurt you and he’ll help you no matter what
  • and no matter how childish his interests are like video games and amusement parks,,,,,,he’s a serious man when it comes to you and your happiness
  • his mom texted you like 40000 baby photos of him which you love and cherish and yuta isn’t actually embarrassed at all tbh he thinks it’s adorable you fawn over him
  • (aka he lives for your attention. if you don’t give it to him, like i said, he turns into a mess of bad attempts on getting you to show him your love LOL) 
  • sleeps in class and still gets straight A’s - it’s infuriating 
  • but also,,,,,whenever you guys have time you’ll head into the city to the amusement park and get on the ferris wheel because no matter what yuta remembers it as your “first official date spot” even though that’d technically not be true
  • but it’s cute and it’s important to you two even though doyoung is like “go to a restaurant like ADULTS” but you and yuta aren’t rushing to grow up
  • any1 who spreads rumors about him gets you super worked up and you’ve screamed at a good number of people and yuta and the boys always hold you back
  • but afterword yuta is always kissing you madly because “wow i love you so much you stand up for me all the time and wow i love you ok im gonna keep kissing you no-”
  • you guys are a fun couple ok
  • still flirts with u even tho ur dating but he does it with plant puns to be cheesey. “will you never leaf me?” “if you were a flower you’d be a damndelion” “we were MINT to be”
  • what im saying is yuta comes off as not being a dork, but he’s the biggest dork
  • OH wearing his soccer team hoodie and people being like “wait, you’re dating nakamoto?” and you getting to be like yes ;-) yes i am ;-)

find other college!aus:

taeyong | bangtan | vixx | monsta x | got7 + kard + amber | seventeen

Life Imitates Art

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Smut / Fluff / Angst (?)// Sub(ish)!Jungkook/ Art Student!Jungkook

Warnings:  graphic language/dirty talk, oral, cum play (if that’s what you’ll call it), masturbation, SLIGHT sub/dom dynamic

Word Count: 10.3K (bc I don’t know what pwp is)

Summary: A friendly favor for your crush develops into something truly sinful when you figure out his muse for his exhibition. 

a/n: only lightly edited b/c it’s 1:30 AM HAHA….this wasn’t supposed to be sub!(ish)JK but idk it just worked; still feel like I’m struggling w/ writing steamy dialogue but oh well. Enjoy! More work to hopefully come, slowly but surely. Please send feedback it’d be greatly appreciated!!! 


You grumbled all the way to the art gallery, adamant in your opposition to being dragged there by your roommate.

“Shut up, we’re already here. Are you going to brood the whole time?” Liz glared at you before pushing the glass doors open.

You’d pouted, clearly having lost the battle a long time ago. You settled on folding your arms defensively and letting out one last exasperated sigh. “Fine, but I still don’t know why you brought me here to begin with.”

Liz’s eyebrows shot up at the absurdity of the question, “You haven’t left the house for anything besides work and the occasional run. You’re starting to get boring, where’s fun Y/N?”

Her words only made you pout further because she was completely right-like most of the time despite your inability to admit it to her.

Keep reading

‘Parks and Recreation’: Leslie Knope Writes Letter to America Following Donald Trump’s Victory

Dear America,

Amidst the confusion, and despair, and disbelief, it was suggested to me by a very close friend of mine (I won’t say her name, to protect her identity) (Ann. It was Ann) that perhaps a few people would enjoy hearing my thoughts on this election. So I sat down at my computer, cleared my head, and opened a document. Then I started crying. So I had some hot chocolate, and my close friend (Ann) rubbed my back for a while, and I got myself together, and sat down. And started crying. Then more Ann comforting me, and more hot chocolate, and back and forth like that for about six hours or so, the chain of hot-chocolate-and-back-rubs only interrupted briefly when I had to run to the store for more hot chocolate packets (“Just give me all of them, all the boxes,” I remember saying, through tears, to a very scared stockroom boy) and now I am ready to go.

When I was in fourth grade, my teacher Mrs. Kolphner taught us a social studies lesson. The seventeen students in our class were introduced to two fictional candidates: a smart if slightly bookish-looking cartoon tortoise named Greenie, and a cool-looking jaguar named Speedy. Rick Dissellio read a speech from Speedy, in which he promised that if elected he would end school early, have extra recess, and provide endless lunches of chocolate pizzandy. (A local Pawnee delicacy at the time — deep fried pizza where the crust was candy bars.) Then I read a speech from Greenie, who promised to go slow and steady, think about the problems of our school, and try her best to solve them in a way that would benefit the most people. Then Mrs. Kolphner had us vote on who should be Class President.

I think you know where this is going.

Except you don’t, because before we voted, Greg Laresque asked if he could nominate a third candidate, and Mrs. Kolphner said “Sure! The essence of democracy is that everyone—” and Greg cut her off and said “I nominate a T. rex named Dr. Farts who wears sunglasses and plays the saxophone, and his plan is to fart as much as possible and eat all the teachers,” and everyone laughed, and before Mrs. Kolphner could blink, Dr. Farts the T. rex had been elected President of Pawnee Elementary School in a 1984 Reagan-esque landslide, with my one vote for Greenie the Tortoise playing the role of “Minnesota.”

After class I was inconsolable. Once all the other kids left, Mrs. Kolphner came over and put her arm around me. She told me I had done a great job advocating for Greenie the Tortoise. Through tears I remember saying, “How good, exactly?” and she said “Very very good,” and I said, “Good enough to—?” and she sighed and went to her desk to get one of the silver stars she gave out to kids who did a good job on something, and as I tearfully added it to my Silver Star Diary she asked me what upset me the most.

“Greenie was the better candidate,” I said. “Greenie should have won.”

She nodded.

“I suppose that was the point of the lesson,” I said.

“Oh no,” she said. “The point of the lesson is: people are unpredictable, and democracy is insane.”

Winston Churchill once said, “Democracy is the worst form of government, except all those other forms that have been tried.” That is perhaps a pithier and better way to get my point across, than that long anecdote about Mrs. Kolphner. Should I just erase all of that and start with this? Whatever. I’m pot-committed now, and is there extra caffeine in that hot chocolate? Because my head feels like a spaceship. The point is: people making their own decisions is, on balance, better than an autocrat making decisions for them. It’s just that sometimes those decisions are bad, or self-defeating, or maddening, and a day where you get dressed up in your best victory pantsuit and spend an ungodly amount of money decorating your house with American flags and custom-made cardboard-cutouts of suffragettes in anticipation of a glass-ceiling-shattering historical milestone ends with you getting (metaphorically) eaten by a giant farting T. rex.

Like most people, I deal with tragedy by processing the five stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. My denial over the election results was intense. My anger was (in Ron’s words) “significant.” My bargaining was short, but creative — I offered my soul and the souls of all of my friends in exchange for 60,000 more votes in Milwaukee, to any demon who cared to accept. (Tom told me it was a terrible deal, but I didn’t care, in that moment.) My depression I have already mentioned. Which brings us to Acceptance.  And here’s what I stand on that:

No. I do not accept it.

I acknowledge that Donald Trump is the President. I understand, intellectually, that he won the election. But I do not accept that our country has descended into the hatred-swirled slop pile that he lives in. I reject out of hand the notion that we have thrown up our hands and succumbed to racism, xenophobia, misogyny, and crypto-fascism. I do not accept that. I reject that. I fight that. Today, and tomorrow, and every day until the next election, I reject and fight that story. I work hard and I form ideas and I meet and talk to other people who feel like me, and we sit down and drink hot chocolate (I have plenty) and we plan. We plan like mofos. We figure out how to fight back, and do good in this infuriating world that constantly wants to bend toward the bad. And we will be kind to each other, and supportive of each other’s ideas, and we will do literally anything but accept this as our fate.

And let me say something to the young girls who are reading this. Hi, girls. On behalf of the grown-ups of America who care about you and your futures, I am awfully sorry about how miserably we screwed this up. We elected a giant farting T. rex who does not like you, or care about you, or think about you, unless he is scanning your bodies with his creepy T. rex eyes, or trying to physically grab you like a toy his daddy got him (or would have, if his daddy had loved him). (Sorry, that was a low blow.) (Actually, not sorry, I’m pissed, and I’m on a roll, so zip it, super-ego!) Our President-Elect is everything you should abhor, and fear, in a male role model. He has spent his life telling you, and girls and women like you, that your lives are valueless except as sexual objects. He has demeaned you, and belittled you, and put you in a little box to be looked at and not heard. It is your job, and the job of girls and women like you, to bust out.

You are going to run this country, and this world, very soon. So you will not listen to this man, or the 75-year-old, doughy-faced, gray-haired nightmare men like him, when they try to tell you where to stand or how to behave or what you can and cannot do with your own bodies, or what you should or should not think with your own minds. You will not be cowed or discouraged by his stream of retrogressive babble. You won’t have time to be cowed, because you will be too busy working and learning and communing with other girls and women like you, and when the time comes you will effortlessly flick away his miserable, petty misogynistic worldview like a fly on your picnic potato salad.

He is the present, sadly, but he is not the future. You are the future. Your strength is a million times his. Your power is a billion times his. We will acknowledge this result, but we will not accept it. We will overcome it, and we will defeat it.

Now find your team, and get to work.

Love,

Leslie

in which y/n attends the after party…

a part two to in which y/n buys harry starbucks…

Y/N was not a partier. It wasn’t that she was shy or didn’t like them. It was just that she was introverted and partying took a lot out of her (Also, she couldn’t hang like she used to. By 10pm, when most parties were kicking off, she was ready to drag herself into bed). However, when Harry Styles says he wants to see you at a party, you go to that party.

She’d been iffy after she met him at Starbucks about actually getting tickets to the show. Still, a few hours later, she found herself at Will Call, chewing nervously on her bottom lip in hopes that he was serious about what he said previously. And, he was. Relief flooded her as she was slid two tickets along with a piece of paper that held an address on it. She presumed it to be the location of the after party and slid it into her back pocket. 

Her nerves were bouncing all over the place as she stood in line to enter the venue. Her feelings were put to the side, however, as she saw a girl get turned away at the door and her friend stood staring wide eyed with her jaw dropped. She instantly was moved to action. As she neared the front of the line, she could hear the girl who’s ticket was apparently fake, breathing through tears, telling her friend to go in without her, forcing a smile. “Wait!” she called out to them, not that either one of them were going anywhere. They were stood off to the side. “I just saw what happened, and I have two tickets. You could just trade me the one for these two.” She held the tickets out for them, as they eyeballed them.

“These are third row tickets. Mine isn’t even on the floor." 

She shrugged, nonchalantly. "I’m just happy to be here.” And, she was considering three hours ago she didn’t even have tickets or an invitation to an after party extended by Mr. Harry Styles himself. After meeting him today, this was the least she could do. 

“How do we know these are real?” The same girl asked, still eyeing the tickets suspiciously. 

Seeing as they were still holding up the line, Y/N scurried over to the ticket checker, so she could scan the tickets. They checked out. The two girls quickly scrambled to her side, swapped tickets, and made their way inside the venue. Once in, they hugged each other tightly, crying (what she hoped to be) tears of joy, at the sudden turn of events before they turned to her and included her in the action, letting their appreciation known through muffled sobs. “How much do you want for it?” the girl who had the fake ticket asked once she got herself together.

She shook her head, giving them a small smile. “I don’t want your money.”

“Seriously? I can’t just let you do this. These must’ve cost a fortune.”

She didn’t want to reveal that she’d got them for little more than a cup of coffee, so she just shook her head politely once more. “Honestly. I’m fine. You two just have a good time.”

“I could get you a t shirt or a hat or one of those pins or–”

She cut the girl off since she was so insistent upon repaying her in some way—which seemed to be a common theme for her today. “Water! And some popcorn, if you must.”

The girls beamed at her as they made their way to the concession stand. They did not stop talking the entire time, not that she minded. They thanked her endlessly and chatted a bit about Harry, but finally parted ways with her, giving one final hug, when they noticed the time and the length of the merch line, and she went to go find her new seat.

—–

In hindsight, she was glad she wasn’t sitting in the third row. After she played it relatively cool that afternoon it would’ve been moderately embarrassing for him to see the way she sobbed as soon as his silhouette appeared straight through Ever Since New York, only regaining slight composure once the bridge hit. But, really, she was a mess throughout the entire concert. So, not only did she do those girls a favour but also herself and possibly Harry. 

The kind, older lady sat in front of her, whom she’d made friends with, let her borrow her binoculars a few times throughout the show and it wasn’t lost on her the slight look of confusion (or perhaps disappointment, but that was wishful thinking) she saw on his face when he really looked into the first couple rows of the crowd. 

Her presence, or seemingly lack there of, had absolutely no impact on his performance, though. It was arguably the best concert she’d ever been to. She felt so at home with all the Harries screaming their heads off and just going completely nuts, as per Harry’s request, during the show. 

However, the same could not be said for the after party. She was a fan. She didn’t have any connections or friends or any real reason to be there other than the haphazard invitation Harry extended to her earlier in the day. That thought carried her straight to the open bar, where she ordered a Long Island iced tea, then caused her to beeline for one of the outer walls. She meandered around the outside of the party watching everyone mingle, only offering a few smiles to those who passed. 

It seemed as though her presence was going to go unnoticed, not that she was doing much of a job at being approachable, as she contemplated on getting another drink, having sipped hers down over the hour she’d been at the lounge, or leaving altogether. She jumped when she felt a firm grasp on her elbow, breaking her line of thought. 

She hadn’t planned on doing a lot of things that day, but it’s safe to say that getting kidnapped topped that list. Her mind was eased as she turned around to see Harry gripping her, no longer donned in his Gucci suit but looking good nonetheless. She wasn’t quite sure what to say to him so she just grinned at him, subtly looking between his face and her arm before he got the hint and let her go. 

He coughed lightly. “You could’ve told me you didn’t like my music, ya know?”

She furrowed her eyebrows, not quite sure where he got that notion from.
He answered the question she hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask yet, almost immediately after seeing her expression. “You weren’t in the crowd. I literally scanned all the front rows.”

“Ohhhh. No, I went. I didn’t sit there, though.”

“If you had tickets, you should’ve just told me.”

Her face contorted into something that was halfway between confusion and amusement. “Why are you assuming I lied to you earlier? I was waiting in line after picking my tickets up and I saw these two girls. One, apparently, had purchased a fake ticket and instead of holding onto those two tickets, I swapped with the one girl who had a legitimate ticket and just gave them the ones you got me.”

His mouth opened and closed a few times. “Sorry I–”

“Was just wondering how to get your exceptionally large foot out of your even larger mouth?” she finished, rolling her eyes, teetering between the lines of annoyed and amused.

“That was really lovely,” he settled upon as a response.

She shrugged. “Treat people with kindness, right?”

Dimples coined into his cheeks. “Absolutely. Now… can I buy you a drink?”

“It’s an open bar.”

He looked at her like she was crazy, eyebrows shot up with his lips twisted together. “No, it’s not.”

“Oh. Well, you can pay for the Long Island iced tea I already accidentally stole and just get me a glass of water.”

“You sure?” he chuckled.

“Yes, sir.”

He headed to the bar as she turned around bowing raspberries into the air in an attempt to calm herself down. 

All too soon, Harry was back, handing her her water, then slipping his hand into hers, leading her to a booth. Instead of sliding in across from her, he slid in directly next to her which sent her nerves in a frenzy. “Figured I’d sit over here, so I can hear you better. It’s quite loud in here.”

She chucked nervously, nodding in understanding, sipping on her water as he gulped down some of his drink. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She had to ask. “What am I doing here?” she blurted before he could get a word out.

He puckered his lips to the side, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m not quite sure what you mean…”

She splayed her hands out in front of them, releasing broken groans. “Like, bro, I just– I just bought you…. coffee! Now I’m sat in a booth with you at an after party. I’m not even, like–” she waved her hands in circles wildly. 

He giggled, looking down at the table and shaking his head. “I just want to get to know you.”

“But, why?” She just couldn’t wrap her head around it. She wasn’t anything special. She wasn’t exceptionally beautiful or talented or smart. And, she knew, even past all her nerves, that Harry was just a normal guy as well, but why on earth would he spare her more than a passing glance?

“I just think you’re lovely.”

She glared at him. She needed more of an explanation than that. 

“The guy at Starbucks told me you didn’t want him to tell me that you paid for my coffee. And, then you told me yourself that you didn’t expect anything out of it.. And, you gave up your tickets for one in the back. And, I saw you when you first came in, and in the least creepy way possible, I just sort of watched you bounce around smiling, bopping around to the music, chatting with a few people. Also, you haven’t even asked for a picture. Not that I mind when people ask me, but I don’t know, it just, I don’t know,you don’t want anything. It’s, uh– You’re lovely.”

She was stunned. Partly because of what was said and partly because of who said it. She just stared at him, not knowing how to reply. 

“Well, say something.” He laughed, eyes skipping around the room. He wasn’t quite prepared to look straight at her. “Christ, talking to girls is just as terrifying as always.”

Her face lit up and broke into a wide grin. “You’re talking to me?”

“You’re the only other person in the booth, aren’t you?”

She shook her head. “No, like, you’re talking to me. You’re chatting me up? Are you putting the moves on me, Styles? Is this what this is?”

He bumped her shoulder with his. “Piss off.”

They smiled at each other and all the possibilities.. Hers faltered after a few moments. “You’re on tour.”

“I am,” he confirmed.

She clasped her hand on top of his. “Harry, in a few days, I won’t even be a passing thought. Maybe the next time you go into Starbucks I’ll be that one chick that bought you something, but nothing more." 

His face dropped into a pout. "You’re not even going to give me a chance?”

She quirked her lip upwards and shrugged slightly. “I couldn’t ask for that kind of commitment from you.”

“Baby, I just want to get to know you,” he said in a voice all slow and thick and deep. 

She wasn’t sure at which point they shifted that much closer together, but he was resting his forehead against hers leaving her breathless. Naturally, she sputtered out a few strings of laughter. “One thing you should know about me is that I’m uncomfortable in most social situations." 

"Duly noted,” he stated, rolling his eyes because she completely ruined the mood he set, head following suit and backing up a few inches. 

“So… just friends?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Sure."He gulped down the remainder of his drink while she sipped on her water. Neither of them were 100% satisfied with the arrangement, but someone had to be rational. She kept telling herself that she was doing the right thing. "Actually, can I kiss you?”

For the second time that night, she was rendered completely speechless. Y/N had been exercising extreme self-control up to that point. She didn’t have an anxiety attack when she met him the first time. She gave up amazing seats to see him (¼ of the biggest band in the world!). She turned him down when he came onto her. But, she couldn’t find it in herself to reject the chance to feel those lips on hers.. Like she imagined meeting him, she imagined kissing him a million times, but nothing compared to the fluffy, pillowy sensation that washed over her body when she nodded meekly at his request, sliding her hands up to grasp his face. 

It wasn’t like a full blown snog. It was short and sweet, but that knowledge didn’t do anything to quell the butterflies that took flight in her stomach. She kept her eyes closed and hands on his face for a good five seconds after the kiss ended, simply basking in it. “Maybe we can be a little more than friends.”

“Yeah?” he questioned, optimism laced in his every word, before pushing his lips back to hers for a few more seconds. 

“Yeah, but, maybe later. When you’re not so busy. After tour ends, if you even remember me.”

“I have a feeling you’ll be one of the few people I can’t forget.” His face set into that signature lopsided smirk. 

“We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“That we will, my dear, that we will.”

Meet You Downstairs

Read on AO3

As Jack descends in the elevator to the basement, it strikes him that he never knew his condo building had a rental suite. Between his hockey commitments and hermit tendencies, there’s still a lot about his own home he doesn’t know despite living here for six years. It’s part of the reason he offered to help out around the building: to keep himself social during the summer season. His parents talked a lot about building a community of friends outside of work, and he knows his way around a toolbox so. Why not?

The basement is… really creepy, actually, reserved for the storage lockers and recycling bins. Even the parking garage is a level up and more inviting than this. There’s only one hallway so Jack follows it, certain he’s going the right way when he hears the voice through the wall.

“It’s fine, Mama. I know you wanted to help me pick out a place but this one is great. It’s in a nice neighbourhood, very secure… Yes, I got your pepper spray in the care package, but please, this is Providence, not New York City.”

Jack doesn’t mean to eavesdrop but he can’t help but notice how young this guy sounds. In a building where the average condo sells for over two million dollars, most of the neighbours he sees in the halls are retirees or working professionals. There aren’t many parties, which he appreciates.

He knocks on the cheap wooden door which rattles in the hinges. No wonder they’re renting this room out instead of selling, he thinks. There’s shuffling on the other side, and Jack hears the boy… man say “Goodness, I think the custodian is here already… of course I have pie who do you think I am? Call you back, love you.”

The door opens and there’s a lingering moment of silence as they each look at the person across from them. This guy looks to be a few years younger than Jack, a bit shorter, lean but with well-defined muscles he can see quite clearly thanks to him wearing the shortest shorts that could possibly be considered not-underwear. He’s staring. Oh boy, he’s staring and he needs to not be doing that so he drags his eyes up and they stall on the loose neckline of his tank top.  

Keep reading

Ride

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You accidentally let it slip to Bucky that he has great thighs, and he offers you a chance at a ride.

Word Count: 1640

Warnings: thigh riding, language, smut references (my little ones might want to skip this one)

A/N: it’s been a long weekend but it’s late and my mind has been wandering tonight sooo this happened

MASTERLIST

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Perfect Strangers (Part 4): Turn the Page

Title:  Perfect Strangers (Part 4): Turn the Page

Author:  Mimi @captain-rogers-beard

Summary:  Bucky Barnes is the consummate ladies man, a different girl every night, no lasting relationships. You are a painfully shy bookworm terrified of getting involved with someone for fear of getting hurt. When the two of you literally run into each other, sparks fly.

Sequel to Three’s Company

Master Post

Characters:  Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff

Word Count:  2838

Warnings: mild language

Author’s Notes: Thank you to @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan and @climbthatmooselikeatree for your invaluable help and contributions.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

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Close Quarters

(For @manateeparty. Thank you for donating to @trashbrigade‘s gisholarship fundraiser!)

ao3

Sam shakes his head, laughing at his brother. “Always with the scissors, Dean.”

Dean doesn’t even dignify him with a response. Rock-Paper-Scissors is a sacred, binding contract for laundromat duty and he’s lost fair and square. He picks up the duffles full of dirty clothes and hoists them over his shoulder.

Cas, who has been watching this exchange with interest from the far bed, gets to his feet. “I’d be happy to assist you.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Sam practically chirps. “A laundry date.”

“Shut up, Sammy.” He looks at Cas. “C’mon if you’re coming.”

They try to time things to be back at the bunker before they’re out of clean clothes, but an unexpected addition to their last case had them heading four hundred miles in the wrong direction.

Dean slings the bags into the back seat while Cas searches for to the nearest laundromat. It’s not far from the motel and, from the pictures on the website, it looks fairly bright and cheery
as far as coin laundries go.

Dean parks out front and they each grab a bag. Inside, the washers stand in rows while dryers line the walls. Dean drops his bag on a high counter meant for folding clothes and goes to find the change machine. By the time he returns, his jacket pocket heavy with quarters, he finds Cas standing between two open washer doors carefully studying one of Sam’s t-shirts.

He looks to Dean with the same face he uses when he’s making sure a sigil is correct. “Is this considered a dark or a light?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorting.”

“Well, stop it.”

“Dean,” Cas says with the utmost concern, “the label says to wash separately.”

“They all say that, Cas. Time to live on the edge.” He reaches into the second washer and grabs the couple of things that are in there and throws them in with the other clothes.

Cas frowns, but pulls some more clothes out of the bag.

Dean sighs. “The trick is to not touch any of this nasty stuff. Have you met Sam Winchester?” He shudders; there’d been Mexican food recently.

“Of course I have, Dean,” Cas grouses. “And he said I should sort the laundry.”

Dean takes the bag from Cas’s hand and dumps it into the washer, then slams the door shut with a flourish. “Ok, maybe at home that’s fine, but on the road it’s all about cheap and efficient. And as long as there isn’t anything—“ he glances around at the other patrons before continuing, “unnatural on the clothes, you can wash them all together in cold water.” He’s still pissed about the ectoplasm that ruined one of his favorite band t-shirts. Sam knows that shit needs to be treated with vinegar first.

“I don’t understand why clothing comes with rules if you’re just going to ignore them.”

“You,” Dean says. “Mr. I Rebelled From Heaven. You’re judging my laundry law-breaking.”

Cas’s scowl lightens into something close to a smile.

Grinning, Dean hands Cas some quarters. “Go get some soap.”

When the soap is added, Dean slots the quarters one by one into the washer. “This used to be Sam’s favorite part. I had to lift him up so he could reach.”

“You spent a lot of time in laundromats as kids.”

“Yeah, and let me tell you most of them weren’t nearly as nice as this one.” He ushers Cas to a couple of empty seats where they can keep an eye on their washer. He nods toward the sign announcing free wi-fi that hangs over the row of vending machines. “Plenty of times Dad left us in one and went off to a bar.”

Cas gives him that same pinched-brow look he always gets when Dean talks about John, but Dean waves it off. “It was actually kind of fun. Sam and I played a lot of hide and seek in these things.” He nudges the wheeled laundry cart with his foot. “Raced around in these when the place was empty.”

It hadn’t been all bad. Even without a door to lock between them and the rest of the world, laundromats felt safer than motels a lot of the time. They were mostly populated by moms and old ladies and sometimes they shared snacks or gave quarters when John left them lacking in one or the other. The swishing sounds of the washer, the hum of the fluorescent lights, even the startling buzzers from the timers. These were all soothing, familiar sounds that led to the simple joy of clean, warm-from-the dryer clothing. Even after the years of having the bunker to call home, Dean still finds himself hoarding quarters just in case.

It’s funny to think that he learned all this as a child, but now he’s teaching an older-than-dirt angel how to do it. But it’s kind of nice to have him here, tagging along not because he has to but for the sheer sake of keeping Dean company. That’s been a happy realization, since the two of them became…well, whatever the hell they are these days. The way that having someone by your side can make even the most mundane tasks fun. Things like grocery shopping, where Cas studies coupons like they’re instructions for defusing a bomb, or washing dishes, which was inevitably followed by instructing Cas on how to snap a dishtowel. (Cas had gotten surprisingly good in a short amount of time with Dean’s ass as his target.) Not to mention the unexpected bonus of decreased nightmares that came with having this particular warm body next to his each night.

They sit in comfortable silence as the washers whir and the dryers tumble. Cas keeps his knee pressing against Dean’s, and sometimes Dean still can’t believe he spent all the time lecturing him on personal space. Especially now when he’d like nothing more than to pull him onto his lap and kiss him until they are both gasping for breath.  But that’ll have to wait. They’ve still got a few more days on the road before they can head home again. He tries not to think about how they’d be spending their time alone at the motel if Sam had been the one banished here.

Dean’s eye is caught by their washer accelerating into the final spin. Checking that the row is empty of people, he tugs Cas by the hand, leading him over to it. There, mostly hidden from view, he backs Cas up against the washer and kisses him, pressing against him so that the vibrations tingle through them both.

“Soon,” Cas whispers.

“Soon,” Dean agrees.

There’s time for one more kiss before the buzzer sounds.

This Time

Request: For a request could you go one where the reader has a horrible one night stand and dean finds her after and is concerned and takes care of her? Smut, fluff, angst, and whatever you want.
-Requested by Anon

A/N: Sorry this one took so long! I had some distractions today ;)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Smut, oral (male receiving), language, fluff for good measure

Word count: 2.3k

Originally posted by bringmesomepie56

You sat on the ground just outside of you, Sam, and Dean’s motel room at…four o’clock in the morning? Leaning against the brick wall, you had no key card and you were too tired to pick the lock. Neither of the boys would answer their phones, you suspected that Dean was still out, the Impala was even locked..it just wasn’t your night.

The guy you went home with a couple of hours ago was such a horrible lay that you waited until he fell asleep and then bolted. The lay was the worst fifteen minutes of your life. Yes, fifteen minutes. The first ten minutes were a sad attempt at foreplay. The guy was almost too handsy. He didn’t know how to tease, or how to get you off.

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Dear Peter

Request: Can I request a peter parker x reader where the reader is a hot mess and one day peter decides to help her clean her room? And while cleaning her room she leaves to get pizza or something. And he finds multiple little letters to peter about how much she loves him but she never sends them to him? (like they are buried underneath her messy room). Lots of Fluff (and a little angst in the letters). I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR WORK BTW I’m a huge fan!

A/N: So I loved this idea so much that I started writing it right away. And as a person with an extremely messy bedroom I am taking offence to my own words. And this is actually kinda personal to me, I’m partially including notes I wrote to someone, exactly one year ago this month, actually. Hope this is what you were looking for!

Word Count: 2576 (Wow this Is the longest fic I’ve ever written)

Warnings: Nah

Masterlist

Day after day, you showed up to school late and in a clutter. Your notes were never in order, when you would open your bag, things would be falling out. You’d given up on your locker. Why bother using it if every time you opened it, something would fall on you?

You ran into chemistry five minutes after the bell, “Y/N, how nice of you to join us,” your teacher smiled.

“Sorry i’m late,” you mumbled, heading towards the back of the class where you shared a lab desk with your best friend Peter Parker.

“Let me guess why you were late today. Couldn’t find your homework in that mess of a bedroom,”

“No,” you said.

Peter raised his eyebrow.

“Fine, yes. You’re right,” you admitted.

“That’s what I thought,”

“Apparently I threw my sweater on top of it, and a pair of pants, and maybe I kept piling things on top while I was looking for it,”

“Christ, Y/N, that’s it, I’m coming over tonight and we’re cleaning your damn bedroom,”

“My bedroom is fine, Peter,”

“Clearly, it’s not. I’m coming over, and we are cleaning,”

“Fine,”

You were certainly going to have to figure out a way out of this one. You had a few things in your bedroom that you really didn’t want Peter to find.

As promised, later that evening Peter showed up at your door.

“Peter, what if I told you that I don’t want you cleaning my bedroom,”

“I’d tell you too bad,”

Peter moved past you and walked into your home.

“Peter, come on, I really don’t want your help,”

“C’mon Y/N, you really need to get organized, you’re going to start getting detentions if you show up late many more times,”

“But what if there are things in my room that I don’t want you seeing?”

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I promise to avert my eyes if there’s any underwear lying around,”

“Not what I meant, but I can see that you’re not giving up, so fine, enter my lair,” you said, stepping aside and allowing Peter into your bedroom.

Peter stepped inside and kind of sighed, “I forgot how messy your room was,”

“Now you know why I always study at your house,”

“And I always thought it was because of little old me,”

“Meh,”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Peter said, looking around.

There were piles of clothes on your floor, books staked on your desk chair, old homework was scattered everywhere, and half your bed was taken up by your computer, clothes, books, and even a few water bottles.

“Ok! So we’re going to start with the garbage,”

“You can’t throw me away, Parker. Not in my own house,”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Just go grab a garbage bag and we’ll get started,”

You and Peter spent what seemed like forever cleaning.

“I’m going to start on your desk while you finish sorting though your clothes,”

“Or…. You could order some food?” Peter added 

You sighed, dropping the shirts you had in your hand, “Pizza okay?”

“Better than okay, I’m starved, and I most definitely don’t want to eat anything else that we’ve come across,”

“Ok, back off Peter, my room’s messy but I don’t have rotting food in here or anything,”

Peter pulled two completely squished chocolate bars off your desk and held them up in front of you, “I beg to differ,”

 “I’m going to go order the pizza,” you said, flipping Peter off. 

You walked out of the room and left Peter to clean off your desk.

Peter continued to clear off what he believed to be was garbage, hopefully he wasn’t throwing away anything that you may need.

There were a few pieces of paper folded up on the corner of your desk under an old coffee mug.

Peter lifted the mug, and placed it at the foot of your bed along with the other three you had found.

Peter began sorting though the papers and came across an envelope with his name on it.

Peter put the rest of the papers down and held the envelope.

I can’t open it, can I?

No.

I shouldn’t.

Peter very much so wanted to open the mysterious envelope that had his name on it.

Peter was still looking at the envelope when you walked back in.

“Y/N, what’s this?” He asked, holding up the envelope to you.

“You didn’t open it, did you?”

“No, of course not, I respect your privacy, I was just wondering what it was,”

You walked towards Peter, and grabbed the envelope from him.

“It’s nothing,” you lied.

“Right,” Peter said, staring at you for a moment before going back to clearing off your desk.

You and Peter cleaned in silence for the next while until the pizza arrived.

“I’ll be back,” you said, leaving the room.

When you came back, Peter was sitting on the ground of your balcony, letting his legs hang out the side through the bars.

You went out and sat down next to Peter, opening the box of pizza to offer him some.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked.

“No, why would I be mad?”

“Because I wouldn’t let you read the letters,”

“No, I understand. There are some things you want to keep private and other things you’re willing to share,”

You took a deep breath and pulled the envelope out of your pocket.

“Christ, I can’t believe I’m doing this,”

Peter watched you, waiting to see what you would do.

“Fuck. Okay. Peter, here,” you said, outstretching your hand to him, giving him the envelope.

“No, Y/N, you clearly don’t want me to read whatever’s in there,”

“Please, take it, Peter. Just, wait until you get home to read it. And, remember that I don’t want what’s in this envelope to change our friendship. You’re still my best friend and I really can’t lose you,”

“Did you confess to a murder in here or something?” Peter joked.

You rolled your eyes, “No, Parker, just, eat your pizza,”

Peter shoved the envelope into his pant pockets and the two of you went on with your evening. You finished your pizza and went back inside to finish cleaning.

It didn’t take you much longer to completely clean your room.

By 10pm your room was rid of garbage and old homework, your clothes were put away in your dresser, and all your old coffee mugs were in the dishwasher.

“I guess I better head home before Aunt May gets worried,”

“Oh, okay,”

Peter walked towards where you were sitting on your bed.

“I’ll read your letters when I get home and talk to you tomorrow,”

Peter kissed your cheek and left.

You said on your bed, heat fluttering from Peter’s kiss. You knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight. You were too worried about how Peter was going to react to your letters.

When Peter got home, he shouted a simple hello to May and ran into his room.

He sat down on the edge of his bed, and pulled out the envelope.

He ripped it open and a handful of letters came out. 

Peter opened the first one, dated just over a year previous, a few months before he had gotten his spidey powers.

Dear Peter,

First of all, fuck you.

Second of all, I can’t believe I’m writing this stupid letter.

I read somewhere that writing things down is a great way to let everything out, so that’s what I’m doing. I’m writing you a letter to tell you how I feel.

You’re my best friend. I love you with all my heart. More than you’ll ever know, really. And if you’re reading this, stop? Because never in a million years would I actually give you this to read. Quit snooping, Parker.

Regardless, I’m always wondering if I should tell you how I feel, so I guess i’ll just do it here because I am WAY too much of a chicken to tell you in person.

I, Y/N Y/L/N, am in love with you Peter Parker.

I can’t remember a time I wasn’t in love with you. I can’t remember a time that you weren’t my entire world. Peter, If you asked, I would find a way to  make a million waves in the ocean crash all at once, just to make you smile.

I still can’t believe I’m writing this down.

I really am in love with you, Peter.

Y/N.

Peter had to re-read the letter what felt like a dozen times. You were in love with him. He didn’t know what to say. He quickly pulled out the next letter. It was dated only a month after the first one.

Peter,

This is so ridiculous that I’m writing to you again. But you drive me insane! Every time I look at you I just want to run my hands through those damn curls of yours and kiss your perfect lips but I can’t. You’re my best friend and I can’t.

You make me so furious. I hate looking at you knowing that I can’t kiss you or be with you, but I also can’t not look at you because i’m in love with your stupid face.

I stand by my statement of fuck you.

Y/N.

Peter looked at the dates on all the letters, they were each dated almost a month apart.

Peter,

I miss you so much, Peter. I know I see you every day, but you’ve been hanging around me and Ned after school a lot less. I love you more than I thought I would love anyone, ever, and I’m scared to lose you. It feels like I’m losing you. I wish we could run away and leave everything behind, just you and me. Please, Peter. I miss you and I’m crying and I wish we were together.

Y/N.

Peter’s heart began to ache, he had no idea you felt this way about him. The next letter was dated after he had become Spiderman and had begun his Stark internship.

Peter,

It’s not fair that everything reminds me of you. It’s not fair that while you’re off doing whatever it is you do after school, whether its the Stark internship or not, I’m lying here awake, crying, trying not to think of you but all I can do is cry over the fact that I’ve lost you. It’s not fair that I’m going to cry myself to sleep. It’s not fair that we broke. I’m a good person. I don’t deserve this pain. I haven’t done anything to deserve this much pain. It’s not fair that life is so painful. I don’t deserve this pain. I just want you back. That’s all I want. I just want you. Why does living have to be so hard?
I still feel numb. After crying for three hours tonight, I haven’t felt anything. Nothing feels real. This isn’t real. I don’t know what I’m doing, how I’m living. But it’s so hard without you, Peter. It’s so hard to not have you. I went from having everything I’d ever want or need, to nothing. Absolutely nothing. All I have is the memories of the old us. And my memory is shit. Imagine how hard this is for me. I don’t even know if you’re missing me like I miss you. I don’t even know if you’re thinking about me. I hope you are. I’d like to think you are. But, then again, who knows. I barely feel like I know you anymore. You’re my entire life. I just lost my entire life.

Y/N.

Peter couldn’t stand to read anymore. He dropped the letters on his bed, and climbed out his fire escape.
Peter began swinging towards your apartment. He landed on your balcony and knocked on the glass door.

You suddenly jumped up, and the sight of someone at your window. When you realized it was Peter you climbed out of bed and went to open the window for him to get in.

“Peter what are you doing here? Its almost 1am,”

Peter looked down at his watch (ok I know he doesn’t wear a watch cause of his web shooters but I have this weird thing where I find it so attractive for people to wear watches like?) and checked the time. You were right. He hadn’t realized he had been reading for so long.

“I needed to see you,”

“Is something wrong?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“I read your letters, or, I read some of them. I couldn’t bring myself to finish them,“

“Oh,” you slightly pulled away from Peter.

“No! No! Not like that. I just meant, I got to the one when I had just become Spiderman and I would spent all my time out and I ignored you and Ned, just, the letter broke my heart Y/N. I didn’t know you felt this way,”

“Well, I do. You kinda broke my heart when you stopped coming around,”

“I knew you were mad at me, I just didn’t realize that you were this upset,”

“I wasn’t just upset Peter, i’m in love with you. I cried myself to sleep every night because I thought you hated me and that I had lost you for good,”

Peter walked towards you and gently placed a hand on your cheek.

“You could never lose me, Y/N. I’ll always be here for you,”

“Don’t make promised you can’t keep, Parker,”

“Darling, I’m in love with you too, I’m not going anywhere,”

You could feel tears in your eyes, and the back of your throat felt thick (thicc). You were so mad at yourself for not telling Peter sooner.

Peter leaned in and placed a light kiss on your lips. Pulling away only for a moment before you leaned back in to deepen the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around Peter, he puled your closer to him, and moved his lips from yours, engulfing you in a hug.

“Are you telling me, I could have saved myself so many sleepless nights over you if I had only told you sooner?”

“I guess I could have saved myself some sleepless nights because of you too if I had only had the guts to tell you how I felt,”

“Do you have to go home or can you stay?” You asked.

“I’m not leaving,” Peter said, bringing you in for another kiss.

Maybe it wasn’t such a horrible thing that Peter found those letters.


Tag List: @tronnoristheotp, @isabellyduh, @spiderrparkerr, @lots-of-liz, @darlin-you-bitch, @a-smol-badger (I’m sorry if I forgot anyone, please let me know in an ask or private message if you would like to be included in my tag list

Let Me Love You

Originally posted by dean-winchester-crush

Let Me Love You by evansrogerskitten

Dean x Reader 

Reader is getting over a bad breakup and ready for a rebound hook up. Thankfully she meets a gorgeous green-eyed stranger who is down for a night of bliss.

Warnings: This is pure Smut. NSFW, Explicit, hook up sex, fingering, oral, anal play, language, alcohol. So basically my usual. | WC: 3183 | On AO3

A/N: This is for @luci-in-trenchcoats‘s 2K Follower Challenge, and an addition to my album challenge for @mrs-squirrel-chester‘s Album Fanfic Challenge. 


I met Sam when he came to the university library one afternoon. He was sweet, funny, and a little nerdy. It seemed like I never met nice guys anymore. And after my disaster of a relationship and subsequent nasty breakup, it was nice to be interested in someone again.

“So you’ve been in Amherst for a few days?” I asked, shuffling through discarded books on the table.

Sam studied the maps in front of us for a moment, before he focused on my question. “Yeah, my brother and I are working here on a job.”

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Punk (Chap. 5)


Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: 2942

Warnings: Same as always

A/N:  FYI on Chap. 4 I had to go back and make a minor change bc of a continuity error.  Bucky’s hair is short (think TJ Hammond style) in this fic and i slipped up an put in a man-bun note (it’s my weakness). Sorry!  Now, back to the story….



Abandoning Wanda in your closet to hunt through the mass of new clothes you’d unceremoniously shoved in there earlier, you raced down the floor towards Nat’s room, ready to call the whole night off after that disaster of a dinner.  You rounded the corner and attempted to stop short but your socks had no grip and you crashed into a wall of muscle.  “Sorry, Sam,” you mumbled.  “You okay?” Sam laughed and steadied you back on your feet.

You heard Bucky snort from behind and winced. Great, he’d just seen you stuff your face full of Chow Mein and apple pie and now he caught you hurdling down the hallway like the giant boulder from Indiana Jones.  “He’s fine,” Bucky clapped him on the back.  “Not even you could crack this thick skull.”  

And with that he pulled Sam’s sweatshirt hood over his eyes and gave him a noogie before guffawing like a doofus and racing past you with Sam hot on his heels.

“Ay yo!  What the hell’s that mean?!” he hollered.  “And don’t touch my hair, man!”  Sam’s voice carried down the hallway as he chased your best friend.  A loud thud and muffled ‘ooof’ confirmed that he’d caught up to him and apparently rugby tackled him in the living room.

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waiting here for catastrophe

aka that buzz.feed unsolved serial killer!shane fic i only mentioned writing to like two people, no one is here for this but i’m posting it anyway
pairing: lowkey shane/ryan
rating: probably T? maybe M? there’s a severed head involved but no graphic descriptions of violence
content: mentions of murder, like i said there’s an instance of a severed head, this gets a lot more comedic than you’d expect, shane eats cocoa puffs 
on ao3
excerpt:

Ryan.” Shane breaks off and sits down again, slides his chair closer to Ryan’s, stares him down. “God, fuck, look at me, okay, I did this. I did this, this is my case, this is mine, everything you’re talking about—”

Ryan can’t help it: he laughs. It comes out a little anxiously, but it’s a laugh all the same, because Shane can’t really expect him to buy into this, right?

And Shane looks—well, murderous is either the wrong word or the right one. “I’m not kidding.”

“You really want me to believe—”

“You entertain all possible theories, right?” Shane says, exasperated and angry, and Ryan notices it’s the first time he’s ever said that seriously. “That’s what this stupid show is—that’s what you do. So entertain this one.”

All at once, it stops being funny. Something the size of a golf ball seems to lodge itself high in Ryan’s throat. He realizes it’s alarm, fear, a caged bird thrashing against the bars inside himself. He’s waiting for Shane to break, to burst into laughter, to say it’s all a stupid joke, but it doesn’t happen.

“What the fuck,” he croaks out.

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Smoking Area (Taehyung x Reader)

Admin: Candi
Request:
“can i request a taehyung smut thanks! – anon”
Fandom: BTS
Member/reader: Taehyung x Reader
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Language, spanking
Words: 2.9k
Authors note: Fucking finally able to write for my bias from BTS, Y E S!

           You were invited to a gig in your local pub because your friends band was playing a gig and you knew they were good so you didn’t hesitate in accepting the invite. You were always being updated on how they’re doing and your friend would send you every song they came out with. Every time you heard a new song of theirs you were blown away so being able to see them live would be amazing. You didn’t know many people that were going so you decided to ask Taehyung; you’ve been talking a lot more recently and it was quite obvious both of you are into each other so this would be the perfect opportunity to get to know each other more.

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ships in the night. (m)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Anonymous Requested: a fluffy, romantic, appreciative Namjoon smut

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 6,252

Description: In your relationship somewhere along the line, the two of you started unknowingly passing each other by; something akin to two ships in the night.

Originally posted by himchans



The contact photo of his dimpled grin illuminated your phone screen just as you walked through the front door, making a goofy smile spread across your face. You set down the dinner and movie that you’d picked up on your way home from work, before sliding your thumb across the screen to answer his call.

“Hey babe.” You chirp, as you try to control the excitement in your voice.

“Hey…” The word comes out slow and somewhat hesitant, making you knit your eyebrows together.

“Is…  something wrong?” You ask questioningly. You wait a few moments and there’s still no answer, making a worry bubble up inside of your chest.

“Namjoon what’s—” You try to ask again, but you don’t get to finish before he interjects.

“I’m not going to be able to make it home tonight.”

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