why is your face so life ruining

“Baby Stark”

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: After returning to New York, Tony is greeted with surprising news that has potential to change his life.

A/N: another one from draft-purgatory. lol i’ve never written for tony stark, and i i struggle to capture his swaggering tone. however, but i thought it would be fun to write for a slightly softer tony stark.

His elbows resting on the metal railing surrounding the large helicopter landing pad, Tony Stark skims his eyes over the beautiful aerial view of Manhattan. A relaxed smile perks onto his lips as the familiar clamor of the concrete jungle sinks in. “It’s good to be back,” he hums to himself, taking in the majestic view carved around the Avengers Tower.

After rapping his knuckles against the metal railing, Tony saunters down the glass walkway leading into the tower, the eery silence reminding him that everyone is on a mission. He’s about to greet F.R.I.D.A.Y. when a smile enters his view, one that he isn’t expecting.

She sits on the counter of the bar, her legs elegantly crossed despite the restrictive nature of her pencil skirt. The sunlight streams into the room through the glass windows, creating a natural glow about her. A coy smile perks onto her lips as Tony’s drinks her in, his lower lip getting caught between his teeth as his eyes dance up her legs and body. She’s the most alluring girl he’d ever seen -he’d thought so two years ago when they first met, and he still thinks so now- and it’s one of the many reasons why he’s infatuated with her.

“I thought I told you not to wait for me,” He grins, glad that she ignored his request.

“I couldn’t wait until dinner, and I wanted to be here when you arrived. Is that such a crime?” (Y/N) hops off the counter and saunters towards him. She cups his cheek in a way that makes Tony feel like he’s the only person in the world.

“Well, counselor, I recommend -” His words are cut off as (Y/N) yanks the lapels of his jacket to bring his face towards her for a kiss. Tony laughs against her lips, but the laugh quickly gets drowned out by a rough growl as she lightly bites his lower lip. A smile creeps in around the edges of her kiss as she slides her hands down his muscular back. A nip of teeth, a glide of tongue, and she easily has him under her spell.

It’s only a matter of time when the need for oxygen brings the kiss to an end. Tony gently knocks his forehead against (Y/N)’s. “Remind me to always bring up a counterargument, because baby, I could get used to that,” he drawls.

(Y/N) laughs, a devilish glint lighting up her eyes. “Welcome back to New York, Mr. Stark. It’s been a while.” Her hand dangerously inch south as she brings his ear to her lips. “That was a little preview of what’s going to happen tonight.”

He feigns exasperation as (Y/N) playfully smacks his ass but twirls out of his arms before he can do anything. A low noise escapes his throat as she shoots him a sexy smile over her shoulder while kicking off her “ball-busting stilettos”, as she calls them.

Tony leans against the wall and watches (Y/N)’s shadow dance in the glow of the sun. Two years into the relationship, and he still gets butterflies. His fun, beautiful girlfriend, the skyline of the most magical city in America, wonderful weather - his life is perfect and Tony wishes it would stay this way for a long time.

“As much as I love pencil skirts, I need to change,” (Y/N) announces. “I have workout pants in my bag, but could I borrow a shirt or sweater?”

“Baby, at this point, you’ve stolen over half of my comfortable clothes. Why do you even bother asking?”

(Y/N) smirks and plants a kiss on his cheek before sashaying towards the door of Tony’s private apartment. Before she opens the door, she turns to him. “T, I have something to tell you.“

"Mmhmm,” Tony hums, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

“I probably should have told you, but I was kind of scared of how you would react. I thought it would be wise to tell you when you were back in New York.” She hesitates for a bit, her fingertips drumming against the doorframe. “Promise not to freak?” she asks, a slightly icy look glazing her eyes.

A small alarm rings in his head, but Tony maintains a calm expression. “I promise. Did you max out my credit card?” he jokes.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes but relaxes a bit, which pleases Tony. “No, and I never will.”

“My wallet thanks you, baby. But what’s up?”

“Tony.” She swallows. “How do you feel about becoming a dad?”

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Playboy, bad boy Kim Taehyung

Originally posted by namjoonie00

Series genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Description: Kim Taehyung, one of the nastiest human beings you have ever been associated with. You despite even breathing the same air as him yet he still somehow finds a place in your life.

note: Park Jimin will also play a major role in this series. Also, this chapter will have some Harry Potter references that are not absolutely necessary to the story itself. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

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What Happens In Vegas: Part 15

A Bucky x Reader / AU drabble series

Master List

A/N: SO sorry this took so long. I was procrastinating big time and also life got in my way. There’s only one part left after this and an epilogue, so I really hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think! ♥

Word Count: 2,184
(I know this is not a drab, and this is the longest part to date :O)

Warnings:
- language.

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

Bucky was sleeping peacefully beside you the next morning, after spending hours the night before trying to get him to fall asleep. His nerves were getting the best of him, and rightfully so. You’d spent most of the night coming up with a court summons for Peggy, so that you could finally find out whom Charlotte’s true father was. You pushed his hair off of his forehead and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. The love you had for him swelled in your chest and, in that moment, you vowed to find the truth for him, to give him inner peace. Even though this was his own personal struggle, it would bring peace to you and your relationship with him as well. Maybe, just maybe, it would also mend his and Steve’s lifelong friendship.

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Family || Park Jimin

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff


There was something about being at the mall that you absolutely hated. You hated the big crowds, and the pushing through people to go and get things done. You hated feeling strangers bodies brush against yours, but as your boyfriends birthday was coming up you made an exception to go and find him a birthday present.

The birthday present had already been found, a sweater Jimin had pointed out to you a couple days prior. You were sure he was going to like it, as it was from you and it was for him. There was a sense of pride swelling up in you for finding something Jimin would like so much. Your friend’s has come with you, saying they could use a trip to the mall and so here they were.

You followed behind them silently, looking around at all of the people. The mall was always a busy place and that’s why you didn’t like coming here. It was a one time thing and you were definitely willing to sacrifice it to get Jimin something he would love. A small smile lingered on your lips as you watched your friends travel up ahead. They were off in their own worlds and so were you.

You were almost completely distracted by Jimin that it scared you when you felt someone bump into you. Your eyes flickered down to the small body that had run into your own and you could see a small child with tears in his eyes. Your heart reached out to him instantly and as he rubbed his eyes in front of you, you bent down in front of him and gave him a kind smile.

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Rockabye (pt.6)

genre: fluff and just a little angst / stripper!au

pairing: you x jimin 

word count: 3.3k 

You still couldn’t believe Jae-Eun called Jimin dad. That was his first word. Yeah, he’s mumbled words here and there but never once called you mom. He normally just screamed to get your attention and that seemed to work pretty well.  The fact that Jae-Eun called Jimin dad shocked you. It was so unexpected and crazy because the two haven’t even been together much and even when they were, it was for only a couple of minutes.

Jimin felt so bad, not because Jae-Eun called him dad but because he still hasn’t called you mom. You understood, though. He was only around 7 months old and you figured his brain hasn’t quite figured everything out yet. As much as it hurt your feelings, you knew Jae-Eun would never understand, let alone do anything on purpose considering his age.

Your phone buzzed you out of your thoughts and you looked down to smile at who it was that was texting you.

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psycho 04 / taehyung

Originally posted by kittylalisa

warning and a note: this chapter has some sexual harassment/slight violence (knife&rope) in it so if you are uncomfortable with reading this kind of story please stop right here, i understand this might be hurtful to some people but this is just my crazy imagination and I’m sorry if you have ever experienced anything like this and I also wish this doesn’t happen to anyone ever, i know that taehyung isn’t like this in real life this is just a story

note: not putting a summary because I might spoil stuff idk

chapter 01 | chapter 02 | chapter 03 | chapter 05 | chapter 06—> new!

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Spiders

Originally posted by alexiabartollo

Peter x Scared Reader

Summary: Desperately needing a relaxation day, the Reader is faced with her biggest fear, but don’t fret! Peter is there to save the day. 

Word Count: 913 (sorry, it’s short)

Warnings: language, fears, spiders, razors, spa day, tears, fluff, and fluff, caring Peter, more fluff. (Let me know if I missed any). 

A/N: Here’s part 2 of my Fears Series! I whipped this out so fast, I surprised myself. These fics are flying out left and right, guys. I cannot stop myself. I know this is short, but I didn’t really know how to make this very long, so hopefully this fulfills your Peter lovin’ needs! Enjoy reading and as always, feedback is appreciated. (p.s. can I have someone to kiss my nose like that pls holy frick ??)


At least once a week you’d try and dedicate a relaxation day for yourself after a hard week of being an Avenger and all.

This week, that day landed on Friday.

During this time, you usually wait to get home from school, a mission, or some other nonsense, to you begin your ritual.

After eating some delicious dinner Vision and Wanda had made for the whole team, you say your goodnights and headed off towards your quarters in the tower.

Making sure you prepared beforehand, you reach your bathroom with everything you needed sprawled out.

Face masks, body scrubs, hair masks, tweezers, nail polish, you name it.

By golly, you’ve been waiting for this day all week and you were definitely going to treat yourself, no matter what got in your way.

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Being With Cas (A Drabble Series): Watching Scary Movies with Cas

warning: fear of zombies? idk this is a warning for me bc I’m actually terrified of them hahaha. fun fact: theyre the only monster I have a legitimate fear of!

also this is cheesy. but when is my writing not?

Being With Cas Masterlist

————————————————————–

Zombies.

Out of all the monsters and demons you hunted and killed on a daily basis, it was zombies–a fictional monster–that scared the ever living crap out of you.

And, of course, a zombie movie is what Dean picked for movie night. No matter how much you begged him to pick a different movie, he wouldn’t budge. So you did the only thing you could think of: cling to Cas.

You had your eyes shut tight, your face contorted as if you were in pain while you listened to the sounds of the zombies eating a girl’s brains out. You clenched onto Cas’ hand so tightly, you were certain that it would’ve been painful if he weren’t an Angel. As soon as you thought the bad part was over, you opened your eyes, and that’s when a zombie popped up on the screen.

“FUCKING HELL!” you screamed, your heart leaping out of your chest in fear. You buried yourself into Cas’ chest, earning an eye roll from Sam and Dean. 

“Y/N,” Cas whispered in your ear, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you completely into his lap. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

You swallowed nervously, pulling back and looking into his eyes. You immediately felt his grace wash over you, calming you down. 

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said softly, a small smile on his face as he cupped your cheek. “Do you know why?”

You shook your head. “Why?”

“Because I’ll protect you,” he vowed. “I’ll always protect you.” 

With a small grin, you nodded and nuzzled further into his arms, letting the sound of his heartbeat calm you down. 

You didn’t feel so afraid anymore.

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Here Comes Goodbye - Connor McDavid

Originally posted by puckducky

Notes: Hola cuties! So, I was listening to some nice Rascal Flatts earlier when I remember I needed to write an angsty McDavid imagine, which voila, led to this. Hope you enjoy!!

Mentions: Steph LaChance

Warnings: Pregnancy, Angst

Requested: Yes | No

Up Next: I haven’t decided. I may put off some of the smuts but yeah.

Teaser: Stage one, confusion. Stage two, disbelief. Stage three, anger.

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The accidental Husband

Part 5. Fires and Cure-all Stews (Final Part)

Previous Parts

Fireman!Dean x Reader

A/N: This is an AU inspired by the namesake movie. It doesn’t follow the same storyline, just the main concept. 

A/N2: For those of you who read Fate, yes, the vintage clock in this fic is the same one. *wink*

Summary: Dean gets dumped and apparently it’s all your fault. That’s why he and Charlie decide that a little payback is not gonna hurt and, if it does, well… then it’s just karma.

Tags: @mrswhozeewhatsis @daydreamingintheimpala @anokhi07 @driverpicksthemuusic @mysoul4dean @bitch-i-am-a-dean-girl @thing-you-do-with-that-thing@ amoreagron @spnfangirl1965 @aristtewinchesterholmes @thisisthelilith @chelsea072498  @skymoonandstardust @apeshit7x @castiels-tardis-sound @squirrellover1967 @barneybrigade @emilypkuzu @aiaranradnay @tatortot2701 @electricbluecas @destinyhuntergirlfriend @samdean-67 @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @keepcalmandbeajunkie @deanandsamsbitch @vanessa-monique @sharkeeshark @asgardianvamp21 @a-closet-full-of-skeletons  @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday  @deansbaekaz2y5 @aquabrie @moonstar86 @antiyouantimirrowantime  @keep-calm-and-omfg-jensen-ackles @smoothdogsgirl @lavieenlex @faithfulpanicmoon @lumiereaimante @awesomecocobambiworld @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @paigeee1023  

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Secret Love Song - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 6)

Originally posted by stylesinthewild

Part 5

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Madison smirked as she looked at you and Harry. 

Your eyes widen and you felt your heart drop into your stomach. “M-Madison what are you doing here?” You said quickly. 

“Oh, I followed you. You were acting a bit strangely, so I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” she said. 

Harry looked at you and then over at her. 

“Oh, forgive me, I’m being incredibly rude. I’m Madison. I work with Y/N,” she said holding out her hand. 

“Hi,” Harry said looking at you. He could tell that you were freaking out on the inside and that this wasn’t good for you that you were being seen with him. 

“You followed me?” You said. “I can’t believe you and this- this isn’t what it looks like,” 

“And what does it look like exactly?” She smirked. 

“We’re not on a date or something. We’re uh… doing a follow-up article,” you lied. 

“Follow-up article?” She laughed. “The one where you completely trashed him and said he sucked?” 

“You mean the one that you wrote?” you smirked. 

“I-I didn’t write that. I’m just simply your editor,” she said quickly. “And as your editor, I’m pretty sure that you know that you have to run ideas through me first.” 

“Well, I uh… I was, but I wanted to make sure Harry was on board with the article first before I pitched the idea to you,” you lied. 

“Well, then Harry, on you on board with this new article?” She asked him. 

“I uh… yeah… I am,” he coughed. 

“Excellent,” she smiled. “And it’s good to know that you were working and not on a date because that would violate our company’s policy and I would hate to have to let you go over something like sleeping with a client.” 

“Yeah, you don’t have to worry about that, so if you don’t mind we need to get back to our meeting,” you said with a smile. 

“Oh, right, we’ll don’t take too long okay, we need you back at the office,” she said. “Since this is your first day back.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon,” you sighed. 

“Great, and it was wonderful to meet you, Harry,” she said touching his shoulder. 

“Yeah, same here,” he said shrugging her hand off. 

Madison turned around and walked out the door and Harry looked over at you. 

“What the hell was that about?” He asked. 

“That was Madison,” you rolled your eyes. “The bitch at the office.” 

“I can see why she has that reputation,” he mumbled. 

“Yep and now she’s probably going to start a rumor that I’m sleeping with you or something and now I’m gonna have to come up with another article to write about you,” you groaned. 

Harry sighed. “I know that us being together would cause an issue, but what if you went to your boss and just told her about us,” he said. “You only wrote that one article about me, so am I still really considered a client.” 

“Yes, because at any time our magazine could write something about you,” you sighed. 

“I remember when I first met you, you said that you didn’t want to work there anymore, so would it really be all that bad if you came clean about us,” he said. 

“Yes, it would be,” you said. “Working there is my job, it pays my bills. I can’t just jeopardize that.” 

“I understand that, but how long are you just going to pretend that we’re not together?” He asked. “Because as long as you work there, you can’t technically be with me.” 

“Are you seriously asking me to quit my job?” You asked. “Because in case you didn’t realize, we’re not all millionaires Harry. Some of us actually have to go to a nine to five office job and live pay check to pay check.” 

“Of course I know that, but I also know that there are other jobs out there that you can do. My sister is a freelancer, she can help you, I’m sure of it. And I can help you financially if you need it,” he said. 

You looked at him. “Harry, we’ve only been dating for a few weeks, I would never ask you for money,” you said. “I’m not someone who needs a man to take care of them.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he sighed. “I’m lucky enough that I get to do what I love and I want you to be able to do the same. When I talked about traveling the world and writing pieces on that, your whole face lit up and I saw the longing for doing that. Maybe this is your chance to finally do that and you wouldn’t have to hide anything.” 

“I don’t know,” you sighed looking down. 

“You don’t have to decide now, love, but its just something to think about,” he whispered. 

**

After lunch, you quickly went back to the office. You weren’t exactly looking forward to it and you would have much rather spent time with Harry, although after the little run in with Madison everything sort of shifted a bit between you. 

You understood where Harry was coming from. You didn’t want to hide your relationship with him forever, but you couldn’t just lose your job over it. But he was right, you didn’t want to work for the magazine anymore because it wasn’t something that you believed in. However, he had to realize that not everyone was as lucky as he was to be able to get a chance to live out his dream. 

And his offer to help you out with money if you needed, it was very generous, but you couldn’t believe he would offer that. You didn’t want his money and you definitely didn’t want to look like you were living off of it. 

You were at your desk contemplating everything that you completely forgot that you now had to come up with an article to write up about Harry about. It shouldn’t have been that hard, but you were trying to come up with an idea that Madison couldn’t possibly twist into making you look bad again. 

You were chewing on your pen when you heard someone knock on your office door. When you looked up, you saw your boss standing there. You quickly sat up and put your pen on the desk. 

“H-Hi, Rachel,” you said quickly. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” she said. “Do you have a minute?” 

“Yes, of course,” you nodded.

She walked in and shut the door behind her. That was never a good sign. Whatever she wanted to talk about was serious and private. She walked over and sat down at the extra chair by your desk and you turned your chair to face her. 

“Y/N, it’s come to my attention that you’ve been a little off lately,” she said. 

“What do you mean?” You asked confused. 

“Well, you’ve been working from home more, there’s been reports of you and your editor having arguments, and now I’m hearing that you’re working on pieces without getting the proper approvals,” she said. “And there may be some fraternization with a client.” 

You bit the inside of your lip to hold back the anger that was building inside of you. You knew who was behind this and you wanted nothing more than to walk into her office and give her a piece of your mind, but you knew that if there was any hope of saving your job that would ruin it. 

“I have been going through some personal things lately,” you admitted. “But I don’t feel it’s affected my work.” 

“Y/N, you’re one of our best journalists and I would hate to lose you, but I think it would better for yourself if you took some time off,” she said. 

“Are you firing me?” You asked. 

“No, not at all. You said you’re going through some personal things, so I’m suggesting you take a few weeks off,” she said. 

“But what about my deadlines?” You asked. 

“If you have any pieces finished, we’ll edit those and publish them when they were originally due to be published, but if not, Madison will assign those to someone else within the company,” she said. 

“Do I get a choice in this?” You sighed. 

“I’m afraid not,” she said. “You can start this afternoon.” 

You sat back in your chair as she got up to leave. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were being forced to take time off and you weren’t even the one doing anything wrong. You shut down your computer and grabbed your bag, along with the flowers that Harry had sent earlier that day. 

You walked right past Madison’s office without saying a word and headed straight out of the office. You were livid. You were so upset that you found yourself tearing up as you drove. You didn’t want to go home and be by yourself, so you drove straight to Harry’s house. 

**

When you got to his house, Harry was already opening the door and taking you into his arms. Angry tears were streaming down your face as he carried you over to the couch in the living room. 

“I’m so fucking pissed!” You said. “God, she just- I don’t know why but she wants to fucking ruin my life and she’s on the way there.” 

“What happened?” He asked. 

“When I got back to the office, my boss came in to talk to me,” you sniffed wiping your eyes. “She said I’d been acting off lately and that I should take a few weeks off to deal with any sort of personal matter that might be affecting my work.” 

“She didn’t even give you a choice?” He asked.

“Nope, she tried to act like she was doing me a favor,” you scoffed. 

He sighed. “I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered. “I feel horrible for you and I know I’m not exactly helping with what I said at lunch.” 

“But you were right,” you sighed. “I don’t want to work there anymore, I haven’t wanted to work there for a while, but I just can’t quit or lose my job there, not until I’ve at least found something else.” 

“Well, maybe you should use the time you’re being forced to take off to look for something else,” he said. “Maybe I could help, I have friends that are journalists.” 

“I would love to take you up on that offer, but I don’t want to seem like I’m using you,” you whispered. 

“Hey, baby, you’re not using me. You’re my girlfriend and I care about you, me helping you and being there for you is not the same thing as using me. Using me would if you were only with me because of who I am and the connections I have and not having any feelings towards me,” he said. 

“Well, I obviously have feelings for you,” you laughed laying your head on his shoulder. 

“That’s good to know,” he joked laying his head on top of yours. “But you know, with you having the next few weeks off, you’re more than welcome to join me when I travel for promo. I know you decided to come with me to Paris, but if you want to come with me to New York and LA, I would love that.” 

“Wouldn’t it be a little crazy with me going though?” You asked. “I mean I know the last time you were in New York fans were following you, don’t you think it might be worse if I’m there?” 

“It might be, but we can figure things out and trust me when I saw that I would never let anyone hurt you or put you in danger,” he said. 

“I know,” you smiled. “And if you want me to go, then I’ll go.” 

“Really? You will,” he perked up. 

“Of course, I know how big those weeks are going to be for you and I want to be there to support you. Besides, it’s not like I’ll have anything to do here and I’d hate to be away from you for that long,” you smiled. 

“Yes!” He smirked pulling you onto his lap. “I can’t wait! I’m going to plan all sorts of things for us to do,” he smiled. 

“Not too many things. You’ll have your own things to do,” you said. 

“I will, but I’m going to make time for you,” he smiled. 

You giggled,” Now that, that’s settled, shall we put a movie in?” 

“We could… or we could…” he smirked leaning to kiss you. 

You giggled into the kiss and turned your body so that you were facing him in a more comfortable position. 

That day was such a stressful day, but having Harry to confide him meant everything to you. It was then that you started to realize that you were on your way to falling in love with Harry Styles and you were both terrified and thrilled. 

Undeniable Heat Chapter 18: All Hell Breaks Loose

Jensen Ackles x Reader

1300 Words

Story Summary: You’ve just gotten a job as one of the makeup artists on the set of Supernatural. Nervous on the first day, you become completely awkward, winning the affection of the divorced Jensen Ackles. You try to fight your desire for him, but he thwarts you at every turn. Will you be able you separate work and play, or will you let Jensen win?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

Author’s Note: Please don’t hate me! Violence and abuse are mentioned in this chapter. 

Jensen’s P.O.V.

I ignored Jared the rest of the car ride back into town, not wanting to rehash the fact that I should be talking to Y/N instead of sulking. I knew I should talk to her, and planned on it. But for right now, I needed time to myself, to think, and forget about the fact that every single woman I seemed to fall for seemed to stray.

As soon as Cliff pulled up to the corner, I was hoping out of the car, not even turning around when Jared yelled out the window. “Don’t shut yourself in! You need to talk to her or I will!” You heard him exclaim, before I pushed through the door and into the building. With my head down, I walked through the crowded lobby of my apartment building, ignoring the people standing around.

“Excuse me.” A voice said as a man pushed past me. I looked up, into a pair of dark brown eyes as they stared at me in curiosity as I tried to push past. “Can you tell me if the elevator takes a key? I need to drop something off at an apartment.” He said, and I finally stopped, frustrated.

“No, it doesn’t take a key. Now if you will excuse me.” I grumbled, entering the elevator, glancing at my phone as it shut. The weird man didn’t follow along, but I was grateful, knowing he probably would have tried to strike up a conversation, and I didn’t feel like talking.

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Disobedient Girl || one

I’m not changing for no one, so do whatever you want with me. The way I am is going to be the same, no one will change that.

Originally posted by mvssmedia

Word Count: 3.3k+

Genre: Angst & Smut

PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR NOTE & DISCLAIMER!

A/N: This is story can be a trigger for some of you, it includes raping, being a prostitute, graphic scene, and a lot of things that can be inappropriate for you. So please keep that in mind, that this story can be a hell of mature. I have warned you that this can be a trigger for some people. If you like this type of story feel free to read it. 

DISCLAIMER: I’m not being mean to any of the boys, but I just got inspired to write this type of story. My heart belongs to the boys and would never make them look like bad people. I’m sorry Taehyung, that this made you look mean. 

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anonymous asked:

hey could you please do an extended thing of the hc for the fans shipping you with the wrong band member, where you're actually with 2D but muds plays it up for the press and bby blue gets mad and out them? THANK YOU YOURE SO GOOD

(Oh golly ^.^ thank you !!)

~ “This could not be happening..” 2D thought to himself. His fans were shipping you with Murdoc, the man who single-handedly ruined his life. 2D’s face fell into his hands. “Tha’s bullshit.” 2D mumbled. “Why da people ship y/n n’ Murdoc?! He’d be bloo’y awful!” 2D squealed into his mic. The interview wasn’t over yet but he so desperately wanted it to be.

~ Murdoc, on the other hand, thought this was just too good. He knew that it pissed 2D off so he played along with it. “Ya know, now that you lot have mentioned it, y/n has been looking pretty good lately.” He gave a smug laugh. He looked over at 2D and his face was red. Murdoc kept going, “I think I should make a move, would do you think 2D?” Murdoc gave his signature evil grin 2D. But that comment made 2D snap.

~ “DON’T AC’ LIKE YA GIV’ A DAMN ABOUT Y/N! YA BETTA KEEP YA NASTY PAWS OFF ‘EM!” 2D shouted. Everyone went silent. Then 2D realized that he had admitted to everyone that you two were dating. Meanwhile, you were backstage with your head in your hands because your boyfriend had just exploded during an interview and outted the two of you.   

~ After a few seconds, someone from the audience went, “I ship it!” And everyone started to agree saying that they shipped you and 2D. 2D smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. Murdoc was laughing his ass off from 2D going off on him. You started to giggle yourself, poor 2D.

You Are Good At One Thing

Author: Juju

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

Summary: You are hanging out with the Avengers and celebrating the end of exams. The conversation leads to secret talents. After Tony, your dad, shows of his talent, it’s your turn. You wrack your brain trying to find something but you can’t. You’re just plain old Y/N. That’s what you thought until Peter decided to finally say something.

Warnings: embarrassment, and sort of shy reader I guess?

P.S. Y/N and Peter go to the same school, that’s why they finished at the same time and why Peter is there in the first place.

You and some of the free Avengers were hanging out in the common room and it was nearing midnight. And by ‘some of the free Avengers’ I mean: You, Natasha, Wanda, Steve, Clint, Bucky, your dad, and Peter. You and Peter had just finished your last exam of the school year and you were all celebrating. Everyone had had a couple drinks or two, except you and Peter of course. Tony wasn’t an overprotective parent but he wasn’t that loose. But by now, everyone else was. You were all reminiscing and laughing and it was the most fun you’d had all year. But you knew embarrassment was down the line once Tony started talking.

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anonymous asked:

Grimmons with "Look at me - just breathe, okay?" If you're up to it?? I love you're writing btw <3

If anyone asked Dexter Grif if he would ever sacrifice himself for anyone else in this stupid war he would’ve said “pfft, no.” 

Grif hadn’t volunteered to be here for the guts and glory or the shitty pay. Grif had pissed off God or the asshole running the local UNSC recruitment office and got himself drafted.  

No one would ever tell him he was noble and he wasn’t an idiot. His death would make no difference to anyone. They were so fucking disorganized they might not even notify Kai when someone inevitably killed him. 

Grif wasn’t like some morons who were here thinking they had a career. Some idiot who would let a madman carve up his body and make him a fucking cyborg so a teammate he didn’t even think liked him would live. Grif wasn’t that grade of stupid. 

So it was hard to tell who was more surprised, Grif or Simmons, when Grif leapt in front of him and took the bullet.  

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Steter1 Something is Seriously Wrong with Stiles Stilinski

That’s what people say when they think he can’t hear them. ‘Seriously Wrong’ with a capital S and a capital W. Possibly italics if they’re really feeling it. He can’t really blame them. Something is Seriously Wrong with him. He knows it. His dad knows it. Scott knows it. He knows they know, even if they never say anything.

He doesn’t really think there’s anything wrong. This is just how it is. He knows Scott worries. Dad too. But this is just… how he is.

Stiles walks around life in perpetual apathy. Nothing matters. Everything is muted colors and unimportant noises. Scott and Dad and Melissa hover just above the line. He actually cares about them. He can hear them. He can focus on them and care and it really hurts.

So he doesn’t do it a lot.

He’s been like this since just after his mother died. Dad thinks that’s why he closed off. But Stiles remembers at least a year of hurt and pain and crying and Dad drinking and Stiles feeling. Why wouldn’t he have turned it off then? Why didn’t he turn it off when his father was passing out in the living room with a bottle under one arm and tears still running down his face? When he couldn’t even look at Stiles because he reminded him too much of Mom?

Why’d he wait until the worst of it had passed?

It doesn’t really matter.

He kind of floats through his day and just… exists. His mind goes a thousand miles a minute. He doesn’t really pay attention to his teachers but he does his homework and aces all his tests. They all try to call on him early in the year but after a month or two they stop. They give up. He’s very smart, they say, but he needs to work on participation.

Why should he?

The only reason he has good grades, goes to school, wakes up in the morning at all is because he has Dad and Scott. Melissa too he supposes. But only by extension. It would upset Scott if something upset Melissa. The only reason he hasn’t killed himself is because he has them to take care of. Dad wouldn’t survive another loss.

He thinks that he used to care about Lydia Martin, at some point. She’s just a little brighter than everyone else, a little less muffled than the other pedestrians. She’s closer to Scott and Dad and Melissa’s level of his awareness than everyone else but not enough for him to add her to the list. It’s more like she’s a nuisance. A flickering light in a half-lit room.

He catches her staring at him sometimes with a confused almost panicked look on her face. Stiles will feel her eyes on him, like air pressure. He’ll turn to stare back. When their eyes meet sometimes he thinks they go lighter – flash white. But then she looks away and he loses interest.

Of course, their staring matches are noticed by Jackson who starts his campaign against Stiles with a vengeance.

There were a lot of doctors at first – that he remembers. Lots of words like “flat affect” and “dead Flame,” “depression,” and “schizophrenia.” But dad never checked him into the hospital. Stiles doesn’t think he could bear seeing another family member hooked up to machines and drugged to the gills. It’d be just as bad as Stiles dying

He feels angry sometimes. Distantly. Like he’s feeling someone else’s anger flow through his limbs and give him strength. When that happens he can feel and it doesn’t hurt. He can hear people talking to him (even if it only makes him angrier) and he listens in class and actually raises his hand. It almost shocks Harris into a heart attack. It makes him smirk. But that fades quickly.

Tonight is one of those times.

He feels it rushing through his veins and tingling in his gums and nailbeds. Rage and sorrow and guilt and he can’t take it. He scratches at his chest and screams and howls and fights his dad when he comes in to hold him down.

“Stiles!” Dad’s screaming too, too loud, too close, “Stiles! You have to stop! Stop it, Stiles!”

He does stop eventually and he’s left shaking with the echoes of emotions that he knows weren’t his. It leaves him twitchy all day. He stays inside because hearing everyone so clearly, noticing them, is too painful.

That night though, his skin itches and he can’t sit still. There’s a pull toward the preserve. He ends up following his father out to the woods, leading Scott who’s looking more and more worried.

Stiles is caught by his Dad but manages to save Scott from grounding. Of course that means he has to leave him out there. All those feelings that tore at him last night (or that morning) are simmering just below the surface and he can’t stop moving. Dad notices. But he doesn’t say anything. Stiles has moments like this. It’s normal.

But he’s never had one for so long.

He’s still aware two days later when he and Scott go back to the preserve to find his inhaler. Scott keeps shooting him looks, like he’s not sure whether to ask if Stiles is okay or not. Stiles doesn’t act like this. He doesn’t get involved like this. He doesn’t twitch and talk and laugh (even if it is hysterically). Stiles is supposed to be blank faced. He’s supposed to be eerily focused on Scott or his dad. He doesn’t do this.

What does it say about his life that people are worried when he starts acting normal?

And then the distant anger spikes. Stiles’ skin tries to flee his body when the dark figure steps out from behind a tree.

“This is private property.”

Stiles flicks his gaze over the black leather jacket, the Henley, the dark jeans. He glances at the stubbled jaw and cheek and locks onto the eyes. He twitches in recognition. Something about the eyes.

And, wait, private property.

He gets them out of there. They can’t get in any more trouble this week. On the way home Stiles babbles about the Hales. Derek Hale. Wasn’t there a Laura Hale too? Talia Hale had been a lawyer. They’d all burned in a fire. Scott looks interested but Stiles can tell he’s still worried.

Stiles never babbles.

Before Scott gets out he catches Stiles’ arm. Stiles jumps and wonders at the feel of skin on his. It’s weird. He’s not sure he likes it. He stares at Scotts hand. Scott just squeezes, “Are you okay man?”

Stiles jerks his eyes up to Scott’s, he gets uncomfortable when Stiles doesn’t meet his eyes when he talks, “Yeah. Yes. Good. I’m good. A-okay.” Scott just screws his face up into a worried confused look. How did Stiles never see the puppy dog in his best friend?

Famous last words.

The week goes by and suddenly his best friend is a werewolf.

Of course, Scott’s too distracted by Allison Argent to actually listen to him.

“A whole pack of wolves?” Scott has that whole confused puppy face going for him. Worry is in there too but that particular flavor of emotion has been on Scott’s face for the past week. He’s never seen Stiles this worked up. Stiles has never seen Stiles this worked up.

“No, werewolves.”

Scott’s face relaxes and he rolls his eyes, “Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I’m picking up Allison in an hour.”

Stiles caught him by the shoulders as he got up. Scott freezes and Stiles knows why. This whole touching thing is new to him too, “I saw you on the field today, Scott. Okay? What you did wasn’t just amazing, alright. It was impossible.”

“Yeah, so I made a good shot.” Scott doesn’t move to dislodge his hold on him but Stiles feels something uncomfortable rise up in his gut and he takes a step back.

“No, you made an incredible shot, I mean… the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. People can’t just suddenly do that overnight. And there’s the vision and the senses, and don’t even think I don’t notice you don’t need your inhaler anymore.” He’s talking faster and faster as he goes through all the papers he’s printed and books he’s borrowed from the library.

“Okay! Dude, I can’t think about this now! We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Stiles whips around and jumps up again, nervous energy tingling through his limbs, “Tomorrow!? What? No! The full mon’s tonight! Don’t you get it?” He waves his hands around Scott’s general person.

“What are you trying to do?” Stiles deflates when Scott raises his voice. Scott must see it because he brings it back down again. “I just made first line. I got a date with a girl who I can’t believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?” Stiles flinches. He sits back down in his chair and rifles through more papers.

Where the hell is that empty feeling when you need it? He’d love to just not care right now. But it’s Scott so that won’t help either.

“I’m trying to help.” He says, “You’re cursed, Scott. You know, and it’s not just the moon will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”

“Bloodlust?”

“Yeah, your urge to kill.” Stiles faces him again holding the book he was looking for.

“I’m already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles.”

Stiles ignores him, “You gotta hear this. Your change can be caused by ‘anger or anything that raises the pulse.’ Alright? I haven’t seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date.” He gets up and goes for Scott’s back. That energy back again but it’s different. Less nervous and more wild. “I’m gonna call her right now.” He starts rummaging for Scott’s phone.

“What are you doing?” Scott sounds like he’s sighing.

“I’m cancelling the date.” Doesn’t he get it? He whips out the phone.

Suddenly there’s a near roar, “No!” Stiles is jerked back by the collar and shoved against the wall. The breath whooshes out of him, “Give it to me!” Scott’s fist goes up and Stile shuts down.

Why did he think he missed this? Now Scott is dull. Stiles can barely discern him from the room.

“I’m sorry. I – I gotta go get ready for that party”

He can barely hear him too. He’s even less than what Lydia was. Stiles stands with his back to the wall, eyes staring at the bed listlessly. He thought there was something important about the papers all across it. His room as never been messy before. It’s not important anymore. He should clean it up.

“I’m sorry.”

He registers the door shutting.

Later that blind rage-filled presence pulls him out of cleaning. He stops breathing for a moment. He doesn’t know what he hates more. Feeling that hate and anger or feeling nothing at all. He knows which one is easier.

There’s a howl in the distance and he stands so fast he gets dizzy.

Scott.

He ends up picking up Scott on the side of the road near the preserve just as the sun is turning dawn to day.

Scott is worried then relieved when he sees that Stiles is not zombie Stiles. Stiles shoots him a look before driving toward home, “I’m not going to say I told you so but I know you know that I did.” The guilty puppy face is back and Stiles ignores it. He’s not even sure why he’s here. Scott isn’t even bright anymore when his world goes gray. Even his subconscious or whatever doesn’t like him anymore.

Despite Scott leaving Allison stranded they’re kissing the next weekend. Stiles knows because he gets a text at midnight.

One of the bus drivers dies and Scott is a little freaked out because he kind of remembers it. And then Allison’s aunt comes to town and Derek is shot and nearly dying and asking Stiles to cut off his arm. Thank God Scott comes back from his date in time to save Stiles from doing something that might send him reeling back into apathy. Derek and Scott go on a ‘werewolves only’ fieldtrip. Stiles finds out over the weekend (because of Jackson of all people) that another person is dead. Scott fills him in later about the fact there’s a big scary Alpha werewolf. Because of course there is.

Scott is looking less and less worried when Stiles isn’t zombie Stiles. He’s starting to enjoy it, Stiles thinks. Stiles wrote a paper on male circumcision the other day. Between all the crazy werewolf stuff. He doesn’t think he was normal yet – whatever normal is supposed to be. He still feels detached somehow. Like that other person’s strength is giving him power and life. Like they’re rage and hurt and determination are keeping him upright on stilts and strings. He’s angry all the time. Manic. Frustrated. Stiles tries not to show it but it gets harder and harder as the month goes on. He’s restless and nearly mad with sensations.

Scott and Allison go missing from school one day and Stiles is a little lost. He makes eye contact with Lydia a few times. A blonde girl too. It’s a weird day. Even for him.

And suddenly Scott says he has to stay away from Allison. At least, until he can get himself under control. Stiles might take the tiniest bit of revenge for Scott’s wall-shoving incident by pelting him with tennis balls. Later they team up with Derek again to call the Alpha to the school – because that’s such a good idea.

Stiles isn’t sure if it’s the adrenaline or something else that has him more aware than usual – even more so than he has been for the past month. The rage is even closer to the surface. Stiles blames that for the urge to run at the Alpha instead of running away when the thing stabs Derek in the back with unreal claws.

They get it trapped and Stiles says he’s going to get a look at it. He can’t not lean into the window. The rage is tugging at him, heart tripping in his chest that tells him to move in, get closer, look.

“I’m not afraid of you.” he says. It’s true. For a weird second there’s a sound almost like purring.

That’s when the thing goes through the ceiling.

The rest of the night gets hazier, Stiles focus goes in and out. They find a body. His dad finds them. The only good thing to come out of that night is school is cancelled until Monday.

It turns out Scott can’t get drunk. Stiles’ zombie-ness is starting to creep back in again. The anger is fading until it simmers in his head.

The full moon is on Monday and the rage turns into restlessness again. He gets put on first line and can’t quite feel excited. There’s only that boiling heat. He uses it to fuel himself during Derek’s rescue. Jackson finds out about everything apparently. Stiles just gets more frustrated.

Derek shows up in his room unannounced. Stiles has the urge to chase him out. Territorial. That’s a new one. Dad knocks on the door to tell him he’s proud about the whole lacrosse thing. Stiles smiles but can tell when his Dad sees the falseness of it.

“Son, I wish you’d talk to me.” His dad sighs, “You’ve been doing so much better this past month.”

“Yeah… I am. I just – I just need a little bit. Before we do the whole heart to heart thing. I need – I need time. Okay?” He hates himself for putting that look on his father’s face. But that’s not new either. He’s always been able to do that.

It’s the second time in a month he’s slammed into the wall of his own bedroom. The blankness doesn’t come back, but the rage spikes. Derek’s eyes flash blue. Derek backs off before he can finish his own threat. They stare at each other for a moment – Derek looking painfully confused. “Why do you smell like anger and pain?”

Stiles distracts him with tracing Allison’s text, Danny, and then the drive to the hospital to find out why Mellissa’s computer was sending Allison texts. Derek slams his head into the steering wheel after their touching moment of Stiles ‘giving up his dream’ of being first line. He never cared enough to tell Scott he didn’t want to play. It makes him wonder if he hadn’t been lost in that blankness if he’d have always been first line. He doesn’t tell Derek either because something inside him takes a vindictive pleasure in making the man feel guilty.

He goes into the hospital by himself, talking to Derek as he searches for Mellissa and then whoever the hell Nurse Jenny is. And then he’s looking for Uncle Peter.

“Yeah, well, he’s not here either.”

“What.”

Frustration bubbles up, “He’s not here, Derek.”

Derek would have burst his eardrums if he’d been in the same room with him, “It’s him! He’s the Alpha! Get out!” Stiles doesn’t even think about it, his body just turns. It turns away from the exit towards the pull that he only just now registers.

A man is standing not five feet from him. Stiles eyes flick from the chin length straggly hair, to the burns on one side of a handsome face, to the eyes.

His heart stops. For a second his whole body stops. He’s not breathing, not blinking, not living. He simply exists. He wallows in that second because that’s familiar and safe. That’s how he’s supposed to be.

But then his heart beats and he feels again.

He remembers the empty hopelessness of the year after his mom died. He remembers feeling so destroyed, so lost and terrified. He remembers laughing with Scott too though. And rolling his eyes at Jackson’s antics. He remembers jealousy and rage and pain and happiness and relief and everything.

The man – Peter – smiles. Stiles heart thrums hard and loud. His chest surges. He likes that smile.

He just hasn’t felt anything like this in six years.

And now that he does?

“You must be Stiles.” Peter says, voice smooth and low and Stiles shudders.

He can’t take it.


Stiles wakes up in a bed. He’s not in the hospital anymore. He can feel tears on his face. He wipes them away and opens his eyes. Panic starts bubbling in his chest. Where is he? He panics more because he doesn’t panic. What’s wrong with him?

“Dad?” his voice is breathless and it breaks and it just scares him more, “Scott?”

“Your father and Scott are not here.” Stiles sits up in a rush, scrambling back and hitting the back of his skull on the headboard. He curses, “Peter.” He looks around but doesn’t see him. A light is coming from one of the two doorways, “Where am I?” Why am I so awake? What did you do to me?

“You had a panic attack.” Peter steps out of the door, a glass of water in his hand. Stiles almost says ‘I don’t have panic attacks’ but Peter keeps talking, “I believe that is my fault.” He’s wearing a ridiculously low V-neck t-shirt and tight dark jeans. His hair is still long but the scars are gone. He’s handsome. In a dark, scary, slightly insane Alpha way.

“Your fault…?” Stiles trails off at the sound of his voice, whispered and confused. He sounds scared and angry and curious. It sounds weird. He doesn’t sound like that. His voice is smooth. It’s toneless and soft. It’s comfortable. Or angry. This past month, his voice has been low and rough and angry. This one sounds stressed. That can’t be his voice.

He doesn’t like it.

He might kill Peter.

Stiles blinks and focuses again, “Why is this your fault?”

Peter holds out the glass of water, expression blank. “I know you’re smarter than that Stiles.”

Stiles takes the glass but he doesn’t drink, “You’re my Flame.”

Peter sits gracefully on the end of the bed, “You are mine.” Stiles tries and fails to contain the full body shiver. He stares at Stiles for a moment. Stiles takes a tentative sip of the water, then nearly downs it when he realizes how thirsty he is. “I’m sorry, Stiles.”

Stiles stops drinking and stares at him, lowering the cup when it’s obvious Peter isn’t going “You’re the reason I’ve been a zombie for six years.” It’s not like its news. He remembers driving down to that doctor in San Francisco because the doctor in San Diego had referred him to a Flammus Specialist.

“He’s the best in his field.” He said, “I’m sure he’d be very interested in your case.”

When they’d gotten there the doctor might’ve exploded with glee. “Your son,” He told Dad while Stiles stared a little to the left of the doctor’s shoulder. He couldn’t remember his name. He didn’t particularly care. “Has something I’ve only observed twice in my career and never in someone so young. I call it extinguetur flamma.

“Extinguished Flame.” Stiles muttered. He was taking Latin. It was a high school class but he was doing better than most of the older kids. They didn’t like him very much.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he had the sudden thought that he should feel something. His Flame was dead. His twin soul. Soul mate. His other half. The better half (because it wasn’t very hard to be better than Stiles). Shouldn’t he feel something for them?

“Exactly, Stiles. Now, you know that when you meet the eyes of your Flame both of your hearts stop and start in sync with each other. I believe that the physical – as well as psychological – connection doesn’t stop there.” He was getting excited now, leaning forward, “I believe that two people who are each other’s Flames are always connected and that when one suffers a physical trauma – or physiological for that matter – the other reflects it. I call it the gemina flamma effect.”

Twin flame, Stiles thought.

“I thought you said he had the other one… the extinguished flame.”

The doctor put out his hands to calm Stiles’ father. “Extinguetur flamma is a subset of gemina. Extinguetur occurs when… well, I’m afraid when a person’s Flame has passed away.” Dad’s breath hitched. The doctor rushed on, “It could be that Stiles’ Flame is still alive but in a state near death, such as a coma.”

They’d left soon after that. Dad in a state of shock and worry and Stiles… he stared out the window.

All this meant was there was one more person he didn’t have to feel for.

But now he is feeling. He’s feeling too much all at once in a strange bed. Even when the flashes of anger had come and gone he didn’t become aware like this. Those had just been reflections.

Reflections of Peter.

Logically, he’s always known that someone was making him this way but he never really had the urge to blame someone. Now, here was Peter. Apologizing for wasting six years of Stiles life. Stiles wants to be angry. For a third of his life he’s been nothing but blank or angry. But that anger is diminished. It’s not gone because Stiles can still sense it on the edge of his mind – no longer filling that empty space, he realizes. He hasn’t been waking up this past month, Peter has.

He’s awake now.

So, since Stiles’ awake. Is he angry? Peter is. Peter’s always angry. Maybe Stiles could fix that – but not right now. Stiles doesn’t think he’s angry. He’s probably a pretty mellow person. He remembers being pretty chill when he was younger.

It occurs to Stiles that he’s been staring at Peter while he thought through his feelings. (It takes him longer than he likes but, hey, he’s out of practice).

It also occurs to Stiles that he wants things. He’s used to hunger and thirst but he actually wants to move closer to Peter. He thinks about Scott’s hand on his arm. Will it feel just as odd to have Peter’s hand on him?

Stiles moves away from the headboard. He crawls down the mess of sheets. Peter has no comforter. Maybe he runs hot. Stiles always wakes up in the middle of the night shivering because he fell asleep on top of his covers. Peter is still staring at him. Stiles likes his eyes. They’re a weird pale green but as he watches they flash burning red. The color reminds Stiles of the raging anger in his head. He wants to get closer. He sits back on his knees and scoots across the space between them.

He might have an impulse control problem.

His knees are brushing Peter’s thigh now and Peter’s just sitting there, staring at him. Stiles notices want clouding the anger at the edges of his brain. His smiles in twitches – he’s out of practice. Stiles lifts a hand hesitates over Peter’s where it rests on his thigh.

He touches skin. His brain simply lights up.

Peter does run hot. Peter’s hand is smooth from not working in six years and it’s big. Stiles picks it up to run his fingers up the sinew and bone. He places it on his own thigh and follows Peter’s muscles over his arm and onto his chest. He traces that stupid V.

“Stiles,” Peter leaned in at some point and their faces are breaths apart.

Stiles finds he really wants to taste Peter.

Does he even have impulse control?

He’s never even thought of kissing someone let alone another guy. Even during his manic episodes, he wasn’t very focused. If he’s being honest with himself, he was basically a psychopath.

Did that mean Peter was a psychopath?

Apparently he doesn’t care because he leans the rest of the way in and touches Peter’s lips with his own. Peter doesn’t move and Stiles puts some space between them. He closed his eyes when he wasn’t paying attention but he doesn’t open them. Stiles licks his lips and tastes something that’s not his own flesh. A trace of Peter. He moves in again because he wants. He gives Peter a closed mouth kiss again. Licks his own lips. Presses his lips against Peter’s and runs his tongue over the seam of his mouth.

He hears a growl.

Stiles hadn’t liked the moments when the rage – Peter’s rage – made him aware. He preferred them to the blankness, usually, but he didn’t like them. He likes this. He brings his hands up from where they’re still splayed over Peter’s shoulders and chest to Peter’s jaw because he wants to know how it feels.

Peter’s jaw is locked.

Stiles comes back to himself in a wash of hot shame and embarrassment (he doesn’t like that feeling). Peter obviously doesn’t want to kiss a sixteen-year-old kid. It’s not like anyone has before. Although, he hadn’t really been paying attention had he?

He lurches away from where Peter is still frozen on the bed except for the quick breaths he’s taking through his nose. Before he can move away more a hand circles his wrist and tightens. The growling revs like an engine. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Stiles.” Stiles looks up from staring at the sheets and fuming in his own humiliation. Peter’s eyes are bright flames.

Stiles’ arousal must hit them both because Peter lunges almost as soon as Stiles registers it himself.

If Stiles thought the first kiss was good this one was extraordinary. Dangerous. Peter ravaged his mouth, nipping at his lips with his teeth and finally catching the bottom one and pulling. Pulling a sound out of Stiles that he didn’t mean to let go, damn it.

It takes him a moment of kissing to realize he’s hard and rubbing up against Peter, his hands clutching and fingers digging into his sides. Peter’s body covers his on the messy bed. He’s so big and hot – pun not intended. His own hands are trailing rough routes from the top of Stiles’ thighs over to where his hair disappears into his pants and then north to ruck Stiles’ shirt up and slip his questing fingers under the fabric. He delves back into Stiles’ mouth like he owns the place. Stiles has the crazy thought that he totally wouldn’t mind that being true. Peter shifts, a pleased hum escaping Stiles when he drags his teeth away from his lips and along his jaw. Stiles can feel Peter against his thigh now, and it amazes him how much he wants it. How much he’s scared of it. How much he wants it because he’s scared of it. Peter places his canines delicately over Stiles jugular, making him stay in this weird place between stillness and straining to rise up from the mattress and just be closer. His big hands somehow catch Stiles’ and pin them by his head.

The growling tumbles from Peter’s throat again as he slowly but carefully closes the distance between skin and teeth. Stiles bucks up into Peter even as he tries not to move in the larger man’s hold. Peter increases the pressure enough that Stiles is sure he’s about be turned. Despite the worry this thought causes – he doesn’t want to be a werewolf – his throat releases an unintentional mewl. He can feel Peter’s lips turning up against his skin.

How could he have wondered if this would feel good? Scott touching his arm was a fly landing on a whale compared to this. All this sensation in one moment.

And then Peter’s unlocking his jaw from Stiles’ throat, moving back up the path he traced earlier to leave blazing, wet, open mouthed kisses along his jaw until their lips meet again. Peter groans into Stiles mouth, an answering whine coming from Stiles. He releases Stiles’ hands to cup the back of his neck and knead the base of his spine.

Stiles’ newly discovered missing impulse control makes itself known again when he immediately reaches for the front of Peter’s pants (which, by the way, are a simple snap button and zipper, this really is the man for him). The only reasons he stops is because Peter does.

“I’d rather not be arrested for statutory rape,” His breathe ghosts over Stiles sweaty skin and his voice Is low and amused. Fucker. He shivers, making Peter’s hands tighten on his neck and ass (when did that get there?). A growl of warning comes when Stiles arousal only spikes in response. “Stiles,” Peter growls his name and, really, what made him think that was going to bring down his erection? Stupid wolf.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Peter,” Stiles says, listening to his own voice carefully. He likes the way Peter’s name sounds in his voice. This new voice. But Peter is right. They can’t. Not right now. Because Stiles would regret it. There’s also the problem of Peter being a serial killer. And his father’s age. And – “Did you kidnap me?” Peter gets up on his hands to look Stiles in the eye, the rest of his body just laying, hot and heavy, over Stiles’. He raises an eyebrow. “Oh my god, you dick! What about my dad!”

“He’s still at work.”

Stiles brings a head up to his face to rub at his temples, frustration wasn’t new. His own frustration didn’t feel that much different from Peter’s. “What about Derek?”

“He’s waiting for me outside.”

Stiles stops rubbing at his forehead and levels a glare at Peter, “You did this knowing your nephew was outside and could probably hear everything?”

“Derek grew up in a mostly werewolf household, Stiles,” Peter says way too logically, “He’s learned not to listen in at bedroom doors, purely for self-preservation.”

“Because what he’ll hear will scar him or because you’ll kill him?” Stiles narrows his eyes.

Peter’s eyes go blank. That rage that easily overtook Stiles for the past month rises up at the edges of his brain. It’s easy to ignore it. “I only those who have wronged my family. Those who killed them.” He knew that already – had connected the dots days ago but,

“An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind.” Stiles quotes, but he doesn’t really believe it.

Peter rolls his eyes and climbs out of the bed. “Are you telling me if a group conspired to kill your father you wouldn’t hunt every last one of them down?” He walks into the bathroom as he talks. Stiles drinks the water from before their impromptu make out session in lieu of answering. “This is why we are Flames Stiles. We are very much the same.”

“What about Scott?” Peter appears again to lean against the doorway, drying his hands on a fluffy looking hand towel. “You turned him against his will. He didn’t have anything to do with the fire.”

For the first time Peter looks away. He doesn’t look guilty. Stiles doesn’t think he’s ever felt that. “I have been trapped inside my body for six years.” He meets Stiles accusing gaze again, “Not like you Stiles, able to walk and talk but not feel. I was the opposite. I could feel every millimeter of burned flesh healing itself ever so slowly for half a decade. My body shut down while it healed myself and I was trapped inside. Unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to change. For six years. The only family I had left disappeared. I was abandoned by pack. You don’t understand yet but pack is vital to a wolf. Especially one so old and large as my pack was. By the time I could move again I was quite insane. Jennifer – my nurse – nurtured that particular insanity. Encouraged it. I was not myself the night I bit Scott. I really haven’t been until I met your eyes.” Stiles hasn’t managed to hold on to his grudge even for the entirety of Peter’s monologue. “I am sorry.”

They stare at each other for a minute before Stiles looks at his lap. He takes another few minutes to think. He clears his throat and glances back up at Peter. He’s surprised to see he hasn’t moved while Stiles mulled it over. “You’re going to help Scott control his wolfiness,” It isn’t so much a question as a demand but Peter nods anyway, looking a bit bemused at Stiles’ choice of words. “You’ve got more people to take care of,” Another nod. “And then what?”

“Rebuild.”

“That’s it?” Stiles side eyes him, “No crazy world domination plan?” Peter tilts his head forward and raises one brow again as if to say ‘Really, Stiles, I’m not that dramatic.’ Except Stiles has the feeling he totally is. “You’re sane now?”

Peter considers him, “Think of it as a reboot for both of our systems. You regained your emotional capacity and I regained my mental strength.” He splays his hands out in a way that is entirely to ‘come hither’ for Stiles control. “As a result I was able to finish healing myself as well.”

After a too long look at Peter’s very nice face and body he nods, “Okay,” Stiles gets out of bed, pausing for a minute to let the head rush pass, and starts looking around. “Where are my shoes?”

“Why?” Stiles doesn’t turn to find out what expression goes with that curious tone.

He locates them under the dresser by the door that doesn’t lead to the bathroom, “Never mind, I found them,” As he’s straightening up from shoving his feet into them he feels breathe on the back of his neck. Goosebumps spread from the point of contact.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Stiles wonders if it’s normal to be turned on by your Flame’s vaguely threatening growl while his very dangerous teeth are probably an inch from your very delicate throat. It’s obviously normal for Stiles. That’s probably all that matters. “I’m going to go back to my house so I can make dinner for my dad and come up with an excuse for why people probably saw me being carted away from the hospital by two strangers. I’m assuming my Jeep is here?”

Peter hums, “No one saw you being ‘carted away’.” Stiles hears him breathe in slowly.

“Are you sniffing me?”

“Your Jeep is outside,” Peter says, amusement obvious in his voice.

Stiles turns around to face him, marveling at the fact that they’re the same height. “I still need to go make sure Dad doesn’t realize I’ve been taken. You and sourwolf out there should get you back to the hospital so that you can miraculously wake up from your slumber.”

Peter’s head is cocked to the side in obvious puzzlement and the smile playing on his lips matches the humor Stiles heard in his voice, “Should we?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, licking his lips, thinking days ahead, “Actually, you should take care of whoever else you need to first. A coma is a good alibi. Make sure Derek doesn’t look too suspicious from now on. Dad’s still got an eye on him.”

“Anything else?” There’s something nearing contempt in his smirk as he keeps staring at Stiles.

Stiles narrows his eyes, “Yeah, one more thing.” He grabs Peter’s head and pulls him in for one last long filthy kiss. It’s a little sloppy, but Stiles is happy with it. “Finish up soon so we can fake meet in the market or something.”

The contempt is gone from Peter’s face, Stiles notes smugly. Peter’s too smart to not have caught up at this point though, “How are you going to explain your own miraculous recovery.”

Gemina flamma. You woke up from your coma, that’s why I’ve been so weird this past month. You’ve been waking up. It’ll be mostly true.” He pauses, hands still on Peter’s shoulders, Peter’s on his waist. “I want to tell my dad eventually. The whole truth. Except for the murder part.”

Peter nods, “He’s going to be pack too.”

Stiles blinks, “Really?”

“Anyone who is pack to you will be pack to me.” Peter nearly rolls his eyes again, Stiles can tell.

He kisses him again just because he wants to.

A few minutes later Stiles is stepping out into a Spartan but nice living room and spotting Derek leaning against the wall nearest the front door. “Wow, I never noticed how hot you are.” Stiles blinks at Derek. Peter growls and Stiles elbows him. “Chill, he’s not nearly as pretty as you, dude.”

“Do not call me dude unless you’d like me to call you by your first name.”

Stiles gives him a horrified look, “There’s no way you know my name, much less how to pronounce it.” There’s an offended scoff that makes Stiles want to grin. So he does.

Isn’t that cool?

Rebel love

AN: the reader and Cassian are out on a solo mission when something goes horribly wrong.
Pairings: Cassian X reader
Characters: Cassian Andor
Spoilers: none
Warnings: none
Prompt: “Do you think I could please request a cassian andor x reader where you two go on a mission together and it fails, he thinks you had screwed up the mission and it isn’t until they get back on base and he yells at you, does he realise you actually got the information and actually succeeded. Maybe it’s because he is used to doing missions by himself and idk? Whatever comes to your mind heh thanks love”

———

Cassian swore under his breath as the grainy image on the monitor shifted and you were finally in his line of sight. It was a simple mission: get in, sweet talk the information out of some crooks and get right back out again; perfect for the young rebel looking to prove themselves. He’d known you for a while now- liked you even-but he’d never really understood your need to be in the thick of things, and you had been known to be reckless.

When the mission was presented, it was made clear that it was a two man job, and that whoever took it wouldn’t be able to expect to be rescued should something go wrong. Retrieving the location of the Death Star plans was the priority, they must be located, no matter the cost. It was made clear that this was a success or death type of job. You’d leapt at the chance . Cassian himself had been unsure from the start. The planet they were on wasn’t known for the reliability of its people, and he didn’t want to risk this information on a newbie.

On the monitor, you tossed your hair and threw your head back, fake laughing at something the burly man in front of you had said. Something ugly formed in Cassian’s chest and, like a good boss, he swallowed it down. You were touching the other man’s chest now, leaning in like you were sharing something secret with him, and Cassian felt his beast hiss with displeasure. It was further aggravated as the man placed his hand on your waist and pulled you flush against him. Although there was no sound, Cassian saw you yelp with surprise, only to cover it with a nervous laugh.

“Come on Y/N,” he murmured, “get out of there.”

The man leant forward, brushing his lips against your neck as he pulled you closer and Cassian swore again, the beast in his chest roaring for him to storm in there and pull you out himself. He hoped that you’d finish the job quickly. The information was good, it would save a lot of lives, but it wasn’t worth this. He knew that he had no real right to be angry. By all accounts you were doing what needed to be done, but the creature in his chest disagreed. You were being reckless, it cried, and stupid, and you were endangering the mission.

So wrapped up in his own thoughts was Cassian that he almost missed the moment when the bartender pulled out his gun.

“Fuck!” He cried, gripping the monitor like he could jump into the screen and rescue you.

There was chaos. At the sight of a gun being pointed in their general direction, three other customers had pulled out their own weapons and had begun to fire. Glasses shattered, tables flipped and soon there was so much smoke obscuring the camera that Cassian could no longer see you. He swore again, fear beginning to make its way through his veins. The bar you had been at was only ten minutes from your current temp base, but ten minutes was a lifetime in a gunfight, and he wasn’t even sure that you were there anymore. To rescue you was his first instinct. The protective beast in his chest was itching to tear the men limb from limb.

Nevertheless he started loading his weapons, his heart pounding in his fragile ribcage. You were so young, too young to be in this fight. He should’ve been there with you, he should’ve protected you, he shouldn’t have let you come, he should’ve he should’ve he should've….

“Shoo, that got hairy fast.” He heard you call with a breathless laugh.

Cassian turned, his blood freezing in his veins. You were breathless from running and a fine sheen of sweat coated your forehead, but you were alive and, judging by your smile, found the whole situation rather amusing.

“Going somewhere, Andor?” You teased, casting a look at his half loaded gun, “You’re not planning on running out on me, are you?”

He didn’t know wether it was the stress of the mission, the relief of having you back, or the infuriating smirk on your face that did it. He couldn’t tell why his emotions turned so quickly, but suddenly he was furious.

“Do you think this is funny?” He asked, his voice dripping with anger, “Is this all some kind of joke to you? This is real life Y/N. People are counting on us, counting on you to take this seriously.” He slammed his gun down, the noise eerily loud in the cave, “You managed to, in the space of less than an hour; nearly blow our cover, very nearly get yourself and a room full of civilians killed, and ruin the only lead we had on where to find the Death Star plans. So laugh it up, because the second we get back to base I’m making sure that you are never sent on another intelligence mission.”

“Cassian-“ you started.

“No, no stop. Y/N you could’ve died do you get that? Because I don’t think you do. You could have died and I was expected to just sit here, staring at the computer screen like an idiot and just let it happen,” he continued, words pouring out of him like a fountain as he paced back and forth in front of you, “how could you have been so reckless? What would I have done if-if-“
His voice faded into nothingness as something resembling understanding settled in your eyes. Cassian found himself aching to touch you, to reach out a hand and brush it against your skin just to make sure that it was warm, to make sure that you really were alive. It had been so long since he’d last ached like this.

“Cass,” you tried again, more gently this time, “before everything went down I got the location. There’s a guy who should know more somewhere on Jakku,” you explained, stepping closer to your mentor, “we did it. We got the information we needed.”

Cassian exhaled, the knot of anxiety in his chest loosening, “We did?”

You nodded, smiling again and taking his hands in yours, “We did!” You squeezed his hands in yours.

You really were quite close now, Cassian realized as the fading light glinted off your eyes. The silence began to stretch as he traced the line of your nose with his gaze, burning you with his intensity. The relationship had never been normal, you’d never wanted anything more than Cassian was willing to give you, and he’d never wanted to risk losing you by tying you to someone like him. So mostly you just pined for each other and waited, living for the next moment like this one, where the lingering hope of something good would be loud enough that it drowned out the promise of something bad waiting just over the horizon.

Slowly, Cassian lowered his forehead until it rested against yours, sighing as he gripped your hands.

“I was so scared that I’d lost you Y/N,” he admitted in a whisper, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if-“

“Shh, it’s fine,” you answered, “I’m fine. Nothing is going to happen to me, I promise.”

He laughed ruefully, “You can’t promise that.”

“I suppose I can’t, but I can promise that I won’t try and find trouble.” You promised.

Cassian looked at you, assessing the sincerity of your words and then growled, surging forward and pressing his lips to yours. You gasped into the kiss, but responded in kind, winding your hands into Cassian’s shirt while his tangled in your hair. He tasted like oranges and gunpowder, with danger and devotion laced into every breath and, suddenly, you understood why people died for love, why they risked everything for the people they cared about.

The rebellion had to succeed, because you couldn’t live without kissing Cassian Andor again.

Rewriting the Past - seven

Originally posted by intokai

Pairing: ReaderxBaekhyun

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: Baekhyun was your first love when you were sixteen. It was passionate, hot, and messy. But all of that ended six years ago, after a four-year battle for your relationship. Now, you’re twenty-six years old and still reeling from the relationship when suddenly, Baekhyun shows up on your doorstep.


One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

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3

Out of the first page of the Poe Dameron/Finn/Rey tag on ao3 (sorted in terms of descending hits) 12 out of 20 fics are kyl* r*n/rey

I’m so mad I want to punch a kyle ron fanboy in the fucking face.

EDIT: 80 fics in and it’s 45 kyl* r*n/rey to Poe Dameron/Finn/Rey fics.

WHY ARE YOU DISGUSTING FUCKERS TAGGING THE OT3 SHIP IF YOU’RE JUST GONNA CRAM YOUR GROSS WHITE DUDES PENIS INTO IT?

UGHHHHHH. AM I GOING TO HAVE TO MAKE AND MAINTAIN MY OWN  DATABASE OF KYLE RON FREE STAR WARS FIC?

IS THIS SERIOUSLY WHAT I AM GOING TO HAVE TO DO WITH MY FREE TIME????

FUCK you kyle ron shippers, you are officially ruining my life.