worn brown

Writer

Summary: In which Bucky falls in love with you, a writer.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,531

Originally posted by lovelynemesis

When Bucky first met you, he didn’t know you were a writer. All he knew was that your coffee was scorching hot when it toppled over and spilled all over the front of his shirt. Your words were rushed as you fumbled over an apology and dug around your canvas bag for something he couldn’t see.

Bucky would learn minutes later that you were on a quest for crumpled up napkins to clean up the mess you’d made. He didn’t have the gall to tell you that a napkin was pointless. There was no way to clean up the mess he was after seeing you. Because, as silly as it sounds, he knew from the moment that you collided with him that he’d willingly withstand the heat of a thousand freshly brewed cups of coffee for another second with you.

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Red Fire (Crowley x Reader x Lucifer) - One Shot Smut

Originally posted by crowleysloverr


Originally posted by lucifersagents

Summary: You’re Crowley’s personal, little pet and you enjoy every second of it. But when you hear that a more powerful creature is held prison by Crowley, you decide it’s time to move up on the ladder.

A/N: This is just 4000 words of pure, filthy porn but I regret nothing. Set in S12 E15

Tags: @socktrollqueen @tori-supernatural @karlamoriarty

Warnings: SMUT, So much smut everywhere, Explicit Language, Pet Play, Blow Job, Facial, Threesome, Double Penetration, Anal.

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Dream A Little Dream

A Bucky x Reader / angst, fluff

A/N: This is a rewrite of one of my fics, from my SPN blog called Beautiful Dreamer. If you want to read it, you can find it on my SPN masterlist. It’s always been one of my favorites and i think it works for Bucky as well. This is my first rewrite ever! Let me know what you think ♥

Word Count: 2,197

Warnings:
- language.
- scary scenery.

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

When Bucky Barnes walks into a room, he demands attention. Not the ‘look at me I’m so attractive’ type of attention, but the ‘fuck with me and I’ll literally kill you’ type of attention. It’s intoxicating and disgustingly arousing, something you’re not even close to being used to. Your entire life had consisted of working at your family’s diner, busing and waiting tables for measly tips that couldn’t even buy you a box of tampons. Your life had been painstakingly boring, until that one unforgettable day your entire life changed.

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Another Look Around (Gaston x Reader)

Originally posted by reyskyvalker

Word Count: 2,097

Warnings: None

    Early mornings in your small village of Villeneuve were something of a dream. The soft lavender skies were yawning off the dawn and blossoming into day, a thin, swirling mist drifted above the rooftops and over the distant hills, setting the entire scenery in a hazy, enchanted state. The smell of fresh bread being baked and the aroma of the floral shops wound through the cool air like an intoxicating perfume.

    The premature breeze on your face and the fresh, dewy air was enough to make you beam despite the morning hours. You closed the front door carefully behind you, not wanting to wake your sleeping family and slipped down the steps and through the small gardens that flourished in front of the house.

    The clicking of your boots on the cobblestone was a solitary noise. One of the few other sounds present were the quiet songs of the rising birds, and the creaking of the wooden blacksmith’s sign that hung suspended over his door. It was so simple and quiet and serene that it was easy to imagine that the town was merely frozen in time rather than emerging from the night hours.

    Any time now, you thought to yourself as you took up your usual vantage near the square. Sure enough, it wasn’t more than a minute before the first cheery “bonjour!” rang through the air.

    You squealed a bit as a pair of arms were thrown around your shoulders from behind, and a familiar voice near your ear said, “Guess who?” You laughed and responded jokingly, “Hmm. Prince Charming.” The person gave a light, musical giggle and untangled herself from you to say, “Sorry, no such luck. Guess you’ll have to make due with me for now.” You rolled your eyes and turned to face her. “Oh, how dreadful.”

    Belle smiled widely and embraced you properly. When she pulled back you glimpsed an unfamiliar binding peaking out of the folds of her dress. “New book?” You asked eagerly, linking your arm through hers. Belle’s eyes lit up and she nodded, pulling the novel out of her pocket and holding it out to you as you began to wade through the steadily filling streets. “I found it in the cellar last night,” she explained as you gazed at the worn brown cover lovingly. “The Count of Monte Cristo,” you read.

    The pair of you paused to purchase a few items from Monsieur Jean, then resumed your walk. “I haven’t read it yet,” Belle said, dodging a group of laughing children as they danced past. “But from what I saw when I glanced through it, it seems exciting. Adventure and revenge and romance…”

    “Sounds like the perfect package.”

    “That’s what I thought. But I’m not finished with Romeo and Juliet yet, so you can read it first.”

    You squeezed her arm and grinned broadly. “Thanks.”

    Passing through the crowded rows of vendors every morning was uncomfortable when your family had first moved to Villeneuve. You and Belle had taken instantly to one another, despite the fact that she was considered by the townspeople to be a “funny girl”. It wasn’t long before you became guilty by association and earned yourself the same title. You were the only bookworms in town, the only people who ever thought of leaving for a different life, the only people who were able to disappear into their imaginations to escape the mundane. However at this point, you were both used to it. You learned to ignore the staring eyes and disapproving glances.

    After making a few more stops and greeting several of the shopkeepers good morning, you and Belle had managed to make a full circle around the square. You were just about to join Belle for a late breakfast when you were stopped by a loud, deep voice calling your name from across the street.

    You flinched, closing your eyes and groaning, “Oh no.” Belle snickered, her eyes fixed on the man who’d called to you. “Well,” she said hastily. “I’ll be at the house. Good luck, (Y/N)!”

    Belle gave you a smart smile, then dashed from your side and made her way quickly down the street towards her home.

    “Thanks a lot,” you muttered, shaking your head at your best friend as she disappeared from view. Steeling yourself, you slowly turned to face the man swaggering towards you, his red coat nearly blinding you in the bright sunlight.

    “Bonjour, Gaston,” you greeted politely.

    Gaston flashed a dashing white smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling slightly as he took your hand and placed a kiss to the skin. “Good morning, Mademoiselle,” he returned, his voice simultaneously rough and silky.

    “Mademoiselle? Really, Gaston, have we not know each other long enough for you to remember my name?” You teased lightly, beginning to walk slowly towards Belle’s. “On the contrary, (Y/N), yours is a name I could never forget,” Gaston assured you, following instantly. You resisted the temptation to roll your eyes.

    Gaston was easily the most popular figure in the village, as well as the handsomest. The only problem was that he knew it, and rarely did he try to conceal that fact. When he walked by, women would melt like snow on a summer day, and men would stare after him in envy. A former war captain, Gaston was most certainly an impressive sight. His chest was broad and strong, his skin tanned, his arms and legs thick with lean muscle, and his hair was dark and shiny. His face could’ve been carved from enchanted stone, his jaw and cheekbones sharp enough to cut, dusted with dark stubble. His lips were nearly always smirking, and his eyes were a smoldering brown. Ever the romantic, the man could make a horse swoon without lifting a finger. There was no denying that he was truly something.

    “You’re flattering me, Gaston,” you replied, brushing your fingers along the iron fence that ran the length of the street. “It’s too early for that.”

    “Well, in that case perhaps I should drop by later this evening.”

    You winced inwardly, realizing that you’d practically walked right into that one. You halted abruptly, causing Gaston - who had been trailing particularly close - to bump into you. You turned to him with a slightly annoyed expression, to which he merely smiled apologetically. You pursed your lips, trying to find a kind way to refuse his offer. In the end all that came out was “Um…not this evening.”

    The shaky and terribly unconvincing way in which you’d spoken made even you cringe. Unlike Belle, you didn’t despise Gaston, and sometimes even enjoyed his company. However his constant attempts at wooing were a bit off-putting at times, and soon they began to blend together into one big blur of flowers and romantic gestures. It was because of this that you declined his invitation, yet the last thing that you wished to be was rude or insensitive…or in this case, awkward.

     There was a falter in Gaston’s smile as he asked, “You have other engagements?” You bit your lip debating whether lie and tell him that you had plans, or to tell the truth and admit that you simply weren’t in the mood for company. You wound up hesitating too long, causing an ungraceful “Yes” to tumble through your lips.

    You wheeled around quickly so that Gaston couldn’t see you scrunch your face in frustration. You were usually able to handle these situations with relative ease, but for some reason, today was different.

  Gaston continued to follow you as you set off once again towards Belle’s, clearly seeing straight through your terrible lies. This time when he spoke, his voice was suave, but earnest.

  “Oh, (Y/N), how long must you keep this up?” he said, practically walking on top of you, his chest to your shoulder, somehow managing not to trip either of you. “It’s been three months and talking to you is practically like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall.”

  You gave a short, breathy laugh and countered, “It’s been four years, Gaston. Ever since we met I couldn’t go five steps without either you or LeFou hanging over my shoulder. Surely even you can see how that might get a bit old after a while?”

  Gaston didn’t reply immediately. In fact, he stopped where he was, and you had made it to the gate of Belle’s house by the time he pursued you again. You slipped through the iron fence and closed it just as Gaston arrived, planting his hands on either side of where yours rested on the gate. “Very well then, perhaps my attempts have been a bit excessive over the years –”

  “A bit.”

  “- but answer me one thing, (Y/N) …if not me then who?”

  You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Gaston’s expression was imploring and sympathetic. Whether or not it was sincere, you couldn’t tell. You swallowed, unable to respond.  

  “What about after your father and mother die?” Gaston went on, slowly sliding his hands to cover yours. “And it’s just you and the responsibilities that you won’t be able to fulfill without a husband at your side. You know what happens to spinsters in this town once they’re left on their own…” He leaned forward over the fence. “…they wind up on the streets, begging for food and spare coins from complete strangers until the day that they die sad, lonely deaths…”

  Your heartbeat was accelerating. If you had the will, you would’ve informed Gaston that coming upon a single stranger in Villeneuve was immensely rare, and that you obviously wouldn’t be alone, thanks to your friendship with Belle. But the words simply wouldn’t leave your throat.

  By this point, you and Gaston were practically touching noses. Your cheeks were now the color of his crimson coat, and your gaze was trapped in his intense brown eyes like flies trapped in honey.

  “I wouldn’t be able to live knowing such a fate had befallen you,” he whispered.

  You swallowed thickly. “Are you implying that I’ll never find another man besides you?” you practically squeaked. Gaston smiled sympathetically. “Of course not. Only that time won’t wait for you.”

  “So you think I simply haven’t met the right man?”

  “Well -”

  “Because it’s a small village, Gaston. I’ve met them all. So, I suppose that means that my future husband won’t be a resident of these parts.”

  With that, you gathered enough willpower to pull your wrists from his grasp and back away towards the front door. Gaston gave what sounded like an indignant sigh. “Well, maybe you just need to take another look around!” he said, easily swinging himself over the fence and following you to the steps.

    You turned back around once you reached the top, seeing Gaston perched beneath you, one leg mounted on the second step, staring up at you. You raised your eyebrows.

  “Another look around?”

  “Exactly!”

  “Preferably in your general direction, I suppose.”

  A dazzling smirk slid across his lips.

  You laughed out loud, turning your back and grasping the knob of the door. Before you could open it however, Gaston tread up the steps two at a time, throwing one hand against the door to prevent you from escaping him, leaving you trapped between the pane and his body.

  “Gaston!” you practically whined. He looked pleased with himself, but stealthily masked it. “Please, (Y/N),” he said quickly, giving you a desperate smile. “Just one more chance. That’s all I’m asking of you. And if in the end your feelings are unchanged, then I will relent to your wishes and leave you be.”

  You were surprised to see his eyes suddenly soften, and for the moment, his entire demeanor changed. The cockiness faded to nonexistence, and sincerity bloomed in its place, so raw and real that you felt butterflies going haywire in your stomach. Your chest was brushing his, the difference in your heights was laughable, yet somehow he seemed so, so, close…

  In one swift move, you managed to remove his arm from the door, yank it open, and slide inside. But before closing it, you hastily informed, “It wouldn’t be completely pointless for you to look for me at the tavern tonight.”

  Then before the heat in your face became too evident, you closed the door and practically collapsed against it, your heart pounding and an extremely stupid grin on your lips. It certainly didn’t help when you heard Gaston’s deep, husky laughter ringing just on the other side of the wood.

  Belle peered quizzically at you from the kitchen for a few seconds, then she frowned as she asked, “What on earth happened to you?”

The Arrangement (Part 3)

Summary: Dean reflects on your first date, and makes plans. The second date goes a little better, though Dean finds out how good your acting skills really are.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,700

Warnings: language, angst, sexual implications/references (shocking, Dean’s mind is in the gutter)

A/N: Part 3! Hope you guys like it! (not my image, but this is was my Dean inspiration for this part)

Need to catch up? Part 1 - Part 2

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Fake Date || A.A.

Originally posted by jughead-thethird

Word Count: 1283

Pairing: Archie x reader

Summary: When your sister tries to set you up with everyone under the moon, you impulsively lie to her saying that you have a date when you really don’t. Archie saves the day and is your date to your sister’s wedding.

Warnings: like one cuss word, lying, weddings, kissing

Requested: Nope me just me being in my Archie feels


You were in deep shit. Your sister’s wedding was coming up in a week and you had yet to find a date. This wouldn’t be a problem, seeing that you were strong and independent, but you had already told your sister you had a date.

You see, your sister was obsessed with your romance life. Ever since she had been going steady with her soon-to-be husband, she had nonstop set you up with anyone in her life who was single. She had set you up with what felt like everybody, from a doctor to a used car salesman.

She always said that life was too short to be lived alone. But honestly, you were happy being single. You never had to rely on someone else, you were always in control of the situation. Plus, it wasn’t like you didn’t have any friends. You had Archie, Veronica, Betty, and Cheryl. They were all you needed.

Your sister would, honestly, rather you not show up to her wedding than you come without a date. That’s why she had been going rapid fire with the set-ups lately. You had lost it when she set you up with a man twenty years older than you who had three children and worked at a toilet paper distributing company. You, out of frustration, had told her you had found a date to her wedding, and didn’t need any more blind dates.

But, in reality, you had no date. You just had enough of her asking you how the dates went, and you having to lie saying that you liked the date, but that one little detail threw you off. For example, you told your sister that the date had worn a brown tie, and that you hated brown. Which was a lie, but you didn’t have the guts to tell her to back off. Don’t get it wrong, you loved your sister and were happy she cared so much about you, but sometimes you wished she would focus on your accomplishments rather than who your last kiss was.

You were telling your problems to the crew, when Veronica spoke up, “Archie, you should be her date to the wedding.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do something like that. Weddings can quite long, especially weddings in my family.” You blushed, while looking down at your lap. You wouldn’t want to impose.

“Don’t be silly, it wouldn’t be a problem now would it Archikins?” Veronica pressed. She was always a problem solver, and never took no for an answer.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be a problem. You just have to tell me what color your wearing so I can get a matching tie,” Archie laughed, flashing a cute smile at you.


The day of the wedding had finally come, and you were more nervous about trying to convince your sister that you and Archie were a couple rather than the wedding itself. Beforehand you had informed Archie that your sister thinks that you are dating, and to do couple things like hold hands and be close to each other. Archie had made a cheeky comment about kissing each other, but you just laughed it off.

It was going better than you had expected. The ceremony was beautiful and it brought tears to your eyes. Even if your sister was in your business a lot, you were happy for her and her now husband. One day you hoped to be as happy as she is.

But now came the hard part. Before all you and Archie had done was walk in and sit down to watch the ceremony. Archie had his hand in your lap the whole time, he was playing the part of boyfriend very well.

But now it was time for the reception. You and Archie took your seats at the table and waited for the food to be brought out. While you did, your sister drilled you with questions about Archie.

“So, how long have you two been dating?” Your sister inquired.

You both looked at each other and stumbled a little before he sputtered, “Three months.”

“Oh wow, I haven’t heard much about your relationship. When did you have your first kiss together?” She questioned you for what seemed like hours on your fake relationship with Archie. You had to admit, after a few questions, Archie was getting good at answering the questions. It was almost as if you had been dating, and he was just telling the truth.

When your sister and her husband had their first dance, it took your breath away. They were a match made in heaven, and you aspired to be in a relationship like theirs one day. But now it was time for all the bridesmaids to dance with their dates and the bride and groom.

You and Archie got up from your seats and made your way over to the dance floor. They started playing the slow song your sister had picked out and you and Archie began to dance in sync with the other couples. With Archie’s hands on your lower back, he led you during the dance.

“Our story is pretty epic, you know. How I asked you out under the stars by the river and our first kiss was to your favorite song after we talked all night about our dreams,” Archie laughed, looking into your eyes.

“Yeah, it’s almost like it actually happened,” You giggled looking down at your feet then back up to his face.

Archie’s eyes flickered down to your lips for a split second, but you caught it. You bit you lip while you blushed at Archie’s hand slowly making their way down your curves.

“You know, it could be real,” Archie said nervously, “like the story we made up. We could make it into a reality, only if you wanted to of course.”

“Did the Archie Andrews just ask me out?” You asked pretending to be shocked.

Archie laughed and looked around. He made eye contact with your sister who was watching you like a hawk.

You saw who he was looking at, and decided to really make your sister think you were a couple. You wrapped your hands in his hair before pulling him down into a deep kiss. The kiss was intimate, but not sexually. It was the kind of kiss where the whole room melted away and all that was left was the two of you.

The song ended and it turned to a faster song forcing you to either start dancing faster or to sit down. You pulled away from Archie, and pulled him closer to the DJ. You started to dance like you would if you were at the club, with your back pressed against Archie’s front moving your body to the beat of the music.

Archie had turned you around and brought you in for a kiss. This one was different from the other one though. This kiss had more urgency behind it. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him.

The rest of the night was a blast. You and Archie danced all night long. The couple of times you took your eyes off Archie, you saw your sister looking at you smiling. She was just happy that you were finally having a good time and not acting nervous.

“You know, Arch, you’re a real life saver,” You looked up at the confused boy, “You saved me from all the horrible dates my sister would’ve put me through if I had to tell her we weren’t a couple.”

He smirked as he leaned down to whisper into your ear, “I can think of a couple ways you could repay me.”

-

a/n: my first archie imagine omg im such a softie for him. this isnt by best but i hope you like it! Give me some feedback please my inbox is always open!!

The Tower - Chapter 3

The Tower: An Avengers Fanfic

Chapter 3

Word Count: 2544

Warnings: Smut (M/F vaginal sex, unprotected sex)

Synopsis: Clint takes Elly to the Tower for some paperwork, and things get very real very quickly.

Author’s Note: Co-written with @emilyevanston , my sunshine.

Chapters: One / Two / Three /


Chapter 3 - The NDA

The morning Natasha left for her month long mission, I woke tangled up with her with Clint spooning me from behind, his arm draped over the both of us.  Natasha was trying to pull herself free from me.

“Natasha?”  I whispered, as she finally pulled herself free and sat up.

She leaned down and kissed me.  “Time for me to go.  Stay in bed.  Clint rarely sleeps and if you move he’ll wake.”

“You’re just going to leave me here with him?”  I asked.  I’d never woken up with someone I didn’t know at all and somehow the fact he was an Avenger didn’t set my mind at ease.

Natasha chuckled and rubbed my leg getting up and raiding the drawer she had been keeping spare clothes in.  “He’s one of the best guys you’ll ever meet.  You have less to worry about with him than you do me.”  After she pulled on some jeans she came back over and sat down on the edge of the bed while she put on her bra and t-shirt.  “Mishka, today Clint will ask you to go to the tower to sign some paperwork.  It’s a non-disclosure agreement.  We’ve reached the point where if you talk it hurts us.  It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just something we do when things get serious.”

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100 Magic Items for 5e Pt. 18

Past Posts

Items 1 - 5

Items 6 - 10

Items 11 - 15

Items 16 - 20

Items 21 - 25

Items 26 - 30

Items 31 - 35

Items 36 - 40

Items 41 - 45

Items 45 - 50

Items 51 - 55

Items 56 - 60

Items 61 - 65

Items 66 - 70

Items 71 - 75

Items 76 - 80

Items 81 - 85

86.      Ring of The Cold One

Ring, Legendary, Requires Attunement by a Sorcerer

A ring of flawless polished gold, with a sizeable Sapphire set in the center. When a creature attunes themselves to this ring it fuses to their skin, making it impossible to take off – a creature can only become unattuned to this ring with a “Wish” spell. When the creature wearing this ring drops below 25% HP – they transform into “The Cold One”, an ancient agent of chaos the evil of whom has been held back for centuries by the might of the Lawful Gods of the forgotten realms. This transformation turns their skin pale white – and their hair a shining silver granting the creature +4 to their Charisma. A freezing aura surrounds the creature – dealing 4d6 cold damage to all creatures within 10 feet at the beginning of their turns. Additionally, granting the creature a base AC of 10+DEX+CHA The creature also gains the ability to add their Charisma modifier to any melee, ranged, ranged spell, melee spell attack and damage or Save DC. (If modifier is already included in the attack, add modifier again). Every round when “The Cold One” starts their turn, a spell slot of the lowest available level is used up – when the creature uses up all available spell slots they become unconscious – the spirit leaving their body. The creature is stricken with 5 stacks of exhaustion, with no memories of what they did when they turned. “The Cold One” cannot take over them again for another 7 days.

87.      Sundering Gloves

Wondrous Item (Gloves), Uncommon, Requires Attunement

Gloves made of scaled flexible metal, the palms and fingers are lined with intricate spiking, that interlock like shark’s teeth when the fist is closed. When this creature grapples another creature, the spikes dig into them, limiting mobility and causing minor discomfort. The target takes a -2 penalty to AC while being grappled, and any roll to attempt to break the grapple also takes a -2 penalty.

88.      The Trapper

Weapon (Bola), Very Rare, Requires Attunement

Two small ball weights connected by a length of rope. A creature can spend an action winding up the bola – if the creature is interrupted they must make a Concentration saving throw similar to how you would for a concentration spell. After winding up for an action, the creature can then use their next action to throw the bola. The bola travels through the air with magical energy, seeking to wrap around the ankles of any creature the thrower can see – moving at 120 feet per turn. When the bola reaches its target, the creature must pass a DC18 dexterity saving throw. On a fail the creature is knocked prone and the bola begins dragging the target in the direction of the attuned player. The creature is dragged 60 feet per turn, at the beginning of the targets turn, they can attempt to make the saving throw again to untie the bola from their ankles.

89.      Instigator Boots

Wondrous Item (Boots), Uncommon, Requires Attunement

Steel-toed boots of rough worn brown leather. The creature attuned to these boots gains 1d4+1 charges after finishing a long rest. Always the first to start a fight, the creature may expend a single charge (before rolling initiative) to add 1d8 to their initiative roll.

90.      Hawk-Beak Sickle

Weapon (Sickle), Uncommon, Requires Attunement

A slightly oversized sickle that deals 1d6 magical damage, it’s blade is hooked to a vicious curved point resembling the beak of a hawk - it also gains a +1 bonus to all attack and damage rolls. After completing a long rest the sickle gains 1d6+1 charges. The player attuned to this sickle may expend 1 charge to do one of the following

  • The sickles pole extends 5ft, granting it reach for 1 minute.
  • The player may attempt to knock an enemy prone by hooking one of their legs – gaining a +2 to their athletics check.
  • The player can attempt to lock it’s target in a grapple with the blade of the sickle, making a grapple attempt as normal – if the grapple is successful, the targeted creature has disadvantage on any attempts to break the grapple and takes 1d6 slashing damage after every failed attempt to break the grapple.
Nouveau Départ  | 01

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

humor | angst | smut | fluff | smartalec!jungkook | spoiled!reader

word count: 3.9k                                                                                                              

Its January, the start of another shitty year at Mendia High and your vivacious parents are coming in 2 months for a report on how you’re doing in the aspects of grades, reputation and of course the long awaited–dating. This means 8.7 weeks to change your attitude–60 days to pull up your grades–1,440 hours to land a decent boyfriend. There is nobody decent enough to help you–therefore you have no choice but to turn to the schools’ derisive dweeb, Jeon Jungkook. Watch yourself struggle to cope with the smart-assed boy as he tries to transform you into a changed lady that everyone would look at differently.”                                                                     


“You feel so good princess–keep going.” your best friends’ groans of pleasure filled the room and you were damn sure any by-passer would look at you dead-dirty if you even dared to exit the small and clustered room at this time.  

“Oh shut up, you make it seem like i’m giving you a blowjob or some shit. Cut it out.” you grit out, making sure to press a bit harder than usual on the sensitive part of his neck. Feeling your nails press into his jugular–he pitches up in pain, a variety of obscene curses fly your way. “Do that one more time and I swear to God i’ll pull you over my lap and spank the shit out of you.”

Your pupils take a trip to the back of your head,  resurfacing rapidly, and you lightly hit the back of your best friend’s head. Yoongi was an uptight bitch sometimes. A downright petty one at that too. That’s why you found yourself giving him a back massage in the janitors closet, probably people coming up with many wild scenarios that their saint-like minds couldn’t handle when they try to put the puzzle pieces together. But hey, this was your best friend. 

Unfortunately, you lost a bet to the grudge-keeper two weeks ago. The deal was that if any of the new freshman could get laid at a party the week they came, Yoongi would get a back massage from you–along with the fact that you had to compliment him anytime he asked for the rest of the school year. If he lost, he would take you anywhere you want and let you buy, anything you wanted. Well, you guess you could say–Yoongi knew his shit.

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anonymous asked:

**chants** bar fight!Everlark!!

Anon…you have no idea how much heartache I went through to write this for you. I started something almost immediately after you sent me this message, back in November (cringes to the max). But I just didn’t have the will to finish what I started so I sat on it. When I finally returned to try again, the dreaded in-laws were sucking all the creativity from a one hundred mile radius. Two more scrapped versions until I finally managed this. I hope you enjoy my humble offering. My thanks to @peetabreadgirl for pre-reading to make sure I hadn’t completely lost my writing mojo. If it still sucks, blame her. I kid, it’s all on me. RATED E: Because it’s me. And I somehow found a way to turn this into porn with a little plot.


The jukebox will need to be replaced. It’s cracked in three places and stuck on “What’s New Pussycat,” a fact that took them about twenty minutes to realize before Thresh tried smacking the thing around to get it to shut up – with no luck. He had to unplug it. The tinkling of broken glass being swept up provides a fitting accompaniment to the questioning as Darius flips open his tablet and levels Katniss with a serious look.

“Can you tell me how the fight started, Miss Everdeen?” She scowls at his use of a formal name for her, like he doesn’t spend every other Saturday in here, knocking back beers with his cop buddies, flirting shamelessly with her, and avoiding whatever fight he just had with Glimmer, his girlfriend.


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The emergency room is warm, the heat spitting out through the vents on the ceiling, but Harry can’t stop shaking no matter how tightly he wraps his winter jacket around him, his fingertips cold and his breathing uneven. The fluorescent lights above him cast a yellow shadow across the room, the one to the far left flickering every so often. It’s distracting, but not in the way he’d like it to be, and every time it blinks off, he flinches, wishing it would stay on, or off, one way or the other.

It’s all one, big cinematic cliche. Harry can’t fathom that this is actually happening, that he isn’t on the other side of the screen at the theater, trying to imagine what it would be like.

He doesn’t have to imagine.

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A Game for Those Who Seek to Find a Way to Leave Their World Behind

Summary: In which Dan finds a strange board game and ends up playing it (and releasing its horrors) with his best friend Carrie and arch enemy, Phil.

Word Count: 6.9k

TW: uhh there’s just some kind of horrifying things in there so idk good luck

Genre: angst? i guess? but it’s a happy end it’s like good angst

this is a thing now because i rewatched jumanji today and felt inspired (if you haven’t watched the movie it’s literally amazing you can find it online….. completely….. not illegal… ahem)(you can still read this even if you haven’t watched the movie but it’ll be better if you have probably)

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3

“Excuse me,” you knew that voice, “may I talk to the manager?” His tone was serious and probably caused the poor sales associate he was talking too a slight panic attack. You saw him walk in, dressed in his normal attire of a vacation dad shirt and skinny jeans and his worn out brown boots. You weren’t expecting him to stop by today, he had informed you earlier that morning at breakfast that he was swamped with meetings.

“I’m the manager,” you couldn’t help but smile as you made your way over to him and your newest employee. “What seems to be your issue sir?” Your voice was sweet and professional and the poor girl he was talking to before looked relieved when you stood next to her.

“Well ya see my lovely girlfriend wondered out tha house this mornin without giving me my goodbye kiss.” You couldn’t even stop yourself from rolling your eyes as he spoke. The sales associate standing next to you went wide eyed as she looked from him too you.

“Well sir, I’m sorry what is your name?” His face went into a smirk as you went on to act as if you didn’t know him.

“Harry, my name is Harry.” He couldn’t help but laugh a little as you extended you hand and when he reached out you expect him to shake it, instead he just grabbed it and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

“Well Harry,” you snatched your hand from his hold and turned to face your employee that was now in total shock. “Thank you Erica I will take care of Mr. Harry here, you can go on break.” She looked relived as she quickly turned and walked away from the two of you.

“Oh so ya gonna take care of me yeah?” You felt his arms slide around your waist as he spoke. You just shook your head as you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“This is a surprise,” you told him before you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “A very pleasant surprise.” You added causing him to smile and show off his dimple.

“I do love ta surprise ya every now and then petal,” his voice was soft and sweet in your ear causing you to just smile. “Got ta keep ya on your toes.” You felt him give your waist a squeeze.

You unwrapped your arms from around his neck as he reluctantly removed his from your waist. You grabbed his hand and lead him towards a corner of the store that was a little more private.

“Ah look mugs! We need more mugs don’t we love?” You laughed as you watched Harry look at the shelves lined with rows of tea cups and mugs, “they got ones with cats on em, we need those.” He reached for a mug that had two cats sleeping on it and you just rolled your eyes.

“Came all this way for a cat mug Harry?” You teased and he shot you a playful glare as he put the mug back on the shelf.

“Came all the way cos someone,” his voice was low and deep as he stood in front of you. “Didn’t give me my goodbye kiss this mornin.” His voice was now a whisper as he leaned in closer to you. You just placed your arms loosely around his neck as his nose started to touch yours.

“Oh silly me,” you teased as you felt him place his hands on your hips. “How could I forget your goodbye kiss?” With that you pulled him closer to you so you could place a sweet kiss to his lips. You felt him smile into the kiss before he pulled away.

“Now that we got that outta tha way,” he gave you a smile as he looked up at the shelf above your head. “We really do need these cat mugs lovey.” You just laughed at him causing him to laugh as well. You kissed his cheek quickly before letting go of him.

You loved when he would come and see you at work, most of the time it was a scheduled visit that mainly involved him brining you lunch. But it was the surprise visits like this that made your heart burst because you knew he was a busy man, and the fact he would squeeze in time to come by a ceramic shop all the way on the opposite side of town from the house you two shared meant the world to you. It was just another little thing that made you love Harry even more.

interconnection | myg

summary: you can never trust anything in the wizarding world. not even your own goddamn journal. 

{hogwarts!au}

pairing: yoongi x female reader
word count: 8k
genre: fluff
a/n: all poetry in y/n’s journal written by yours truly! obviously, anything written in yoongi’s journal is written by him. also, i know the word count’s pretty short in comparison to my seokjin fic, but a majority of this fic is in messaging format, which explains both the great physical length and the shorter word count. inspired by this drarry fic, which rocks and u should read.

“all art is quite useless.” — wilde, 1890.

The first thing your mother bought you in Diagon Alley, age eleven, was a worn, brown leather journal, its pages tinted and stained but empty nonetheless. She got it off of the highest shelf in the top corner of the crowded bookstore, stretching her arms and legs to reach it, the last of its kind.

“What’s this for?” You asked as she placed it in your open, waiting palms.

“For you to write in while at Hogwarts,” she said. “I find that words always seem to have a better way of flowing when on paper rather than out loud. Don’t you?”

“I dunno,” you responded, shrugging your little shoulders as you placed the journal in your cauldron along with the rest of your required schoolbooks. “Isn’t it dumb to keep a journal?”

“Only if you treat it as such,” your mother replied, as sage as she always was. “Come, let’s get you a wand.”

With the mention of a wand, your mind wandered far from the beaten leather journal in your cauldron as you skipped out of Flourish and Blott’s, unaware of how significant the journal would end up being in your later years at Hogwarts.


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Order of the Diadem | 1 | TEN

Genre: royalty!au | fluff angst 

Member: Ten / Reader

Word Count: 5,900

Warnings: violence

Part: one | two | three | four

Originally posted by honeyxxxmoon

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Beautiful Dreamer

A Dean x Reader

A/N: This is my entry for @avasmommy224 ‘s Birthday Writing Challenge! I’m not sure what genre this is, it’s just something that came up when I thought of my prompt. I haven’t written much, so be gentle. Let me know what you think. I hope you like it, girl! Happy Birthday! ♥

Prompt: I dreamed of you. I dreamed you were wandering in the dark, and so was I. We found each other. We found each other in the dark.

Word Count: 2,056

Warnings:
- language.

Tags: (at the end)

*gif is not mine.

When Dean Winchester walks into a room, he demands attention. Not the ‘look at me I’m so attractive’ type of attention, but the ‘fuck with me and I’ll literally kill you’ type of attention. It’s intoxicating and disgustingly arousing, something you’re not even close to being used to. Your entire life had consisted of working at your family’s diner, busing and waiting tables for measly tips that couldn’t even buy you a box of tampons. Your life had been painstakingly boring, until that one unforgettable day your entire life changed.

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Posts on: February 11th

Summary: In 2008, Dean takes over his late grandfather’s tailor shop in Normal, Illinois, and discovers an old leather flight jacket in the attic. A hand-painted set of wings on the back, the name Novak, and a three-quarters sewn circle of red cotton are the only clues he has to the jacket’s origins, and he enlists his historian brother to help him find the owner.

It doesn’t take long for Sam to trace the jacket to Lieutenant Castiel Novak–a pilot who lived in Dean’s apartment until his mysterious disappearance a few years after WWII–and what little information they find about him is fascinating. The guy was a stone cold badass. A stone cold fox, too, if the grainy old newspaper photo is anything to go by.

It’s to be expected that Dean idly wishes he could have known the man as he closes the annoyingly unfinished circle of thread on the jacket.

Less expected, however, is that wish coming true. 

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

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