wrist tap

dating steve harrington would include..

Originally posted by beyknowles

  •  Steve would be one of the most loving and caring boyfriend in the world, so jot that down
  •    majority of the time he’s holding you in some type of way; holding hands, hands on your waist, tapping your wrist, basically laying on top of you, you name it
  •    Steve loves contact v much because it helps remind him that you’re still around and still sticking with him
  •  his face instantly lights up whenever you walk into the room, even if you were gone for .02 seconds
  •  this kid is a literal softy for your smile, and will do anything for/to protective it
  •    even if he sees an ounce of sadness evident on your face, he will immediately start throwing out the most ridiculous jokes just to see you smile
  •    Let’s be honest, it’s all probably dad jokes
  • steve is into nicknames, he probably calls you a different one everyday
  •  his #1 favorites is babe and sweetheart because those are the ones that gets you flustered the most
  •  even tho i said he lives for your smile, he absolutely loves it when you get embarrassed by the things he says
  •    ‘wow, can’t believe i’m dating the most beautiful person in the world
  •    “Oh my gosh steve pls be quiet”
  •   “Quiet! How could i quiet with news like this!”
  •  always says ‘i love you’ everytime he leaves you in a room, even if it’s only for a split second
  •  melts with every kiss you give him and will probably ask for more
  •  will, in return, give you thousands of kisses all over your face
  •  Steve is very interested  in your hobbies and will intently listen to everything you say about them
  •    He actually thinks it’s kind of cute when you talk about the things you love and attempts to share that love with you
  •    If you’re interested in books he’ll try to read a couple of them
  •   he might stop reading it at some point, but he tries
  •   if you like to bake, you guys would try to do some cooking dates together!
  •              Which might end up somewhere else, but hey! It’s the thought that counts
  •  Impromptu dates! loves impromptu dates!
  •    He’d be driving with you in the car and just say “hey, you wanna go out right now?”
  •            ‘y’know, i’m feeling milkshakes, wanna get milkshakes?’
  •             i heard kfc is good, how about we grab a bite?
  •  You’re the only person steve will ever allow to touch his hair, and let me tell you it’s a blessing
  •  it might look ridiculous at times but that shit is soft
  •  and he loves the feeling of your fingers running through his hair, so it’s a win-win
  •  does the 80s equivalent of sending good morning/good night messages, which is basically sneaking into your room at night, and picking you up for school first thing in the morning
  • will purposefully stay late so he’ll have no choice but to stay over
  • do not plan on studying with this kid, bc he cannot focus
  • with that being said, steve loves cuddling and really likes the feeling of you in between his arms
  •  he’s the type that would leave you flowers in your locker or doorstep
  • and he probably gives you roses before any date
  • misses you and thinks about you all the time when he leaves for college and tries to visit you anytime he can
  • probably calls you everyday to make up for it
  • the calls would last for hours and he never hangs up
  •                             “steve c’mon i have homework”
  •                             “i know, i know, but i can’t just hang u-
  •                              “okay, then i’ll hang up”
  •                              waitwaitwait don’t go yet!”
  • is a total gentleman even if he doesn’t look it
  • will hold doors open for you and give you his jacket if gets cold (even if he makes it seem like he doesn’t want to)
  • and will throw his fists in your name if it comes to it
  • in conclusion, steve harrington would be an amazing bf thank you and good night

this got kind of long, and i kind of got carried away, but i hope you guys like it!

The Institute has never been a home for Alec.

He’s been born into it, the cold cathedral walls of order and humility, the black and white reality. His childhood has been a soldier’s stance, his mother’s sharp tongue and discipline still ingrained into him to this very day. Between the blue-tinted corridors and occasional trips to Idris, his whole life has played out without his input, because the eldest child wears the heavy crown of responsibility.

His life has been endless hours of studies and twice as much time spent training, until breathing burned his lungs and his knuckles turned into a kaleidoscope of bruises beneath the shattered light in the colors of the stained glass windows. His childhood was never truly his own, instead it belonged to his parents, stern-faced and cutting cold, because ‘mistake’ was not a word he was allowed to speak.

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Annoying Interruptions [Eggsy Unwin Imagine - Request].

A/N: Hello lovelies, here’s a Eggsy Unwin imagine, based off this anon: 

  • Eggsy imagine, please? You both are sexually frustrated because Merlin and Harry is always interrupting.  

Pairing: Eggsy x Reader.

Part Two. 

Warnings: Uh, there’s nothing explicit, but there is some content that is sexual in nature, nothing detailed. If that’s not your thing, please don’t read and to be sure, please, please, only read if you’re an adult

Rating: M, just to make sure, because I’m paranoid! 

Disclaimer: Nope, I don’t own anyone. All the characters go to their respective owners/creators. 

P.S.:Thank you for requesting and I hope this is all right! :) I’ve checked this over for mistakes and whatnot, but if any have managed to slip through, please forgive me.


Living the life of a spy was a tough business. Dealing with terrorists and plots to destroy the world, was something you had to deal with on many of your missions. You weren’t complaining, but when you actually found some spare time to relax, you’d like to be able to do that freely. If you weren’t on a mission, then you were training, or helping new recruits train and if not doing any of those things, you were busy filing through paperwork and briefing for upcoming missions, or debriefing for past ones. It constantly felt like you were doing something, so when you got back to your room after an exhausting day, you collapsed on your bed, just wanting to fall asleep.

Your boyfriend, Eggsy Unwin, had other ideas. He waltzed into your room unannounced, a breezy, carefree smile on his bright face, his light green-blue eyes sparkling in the evening light.

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A Messed Up Place | Seven

Pairings: Bucky x Reader || Steve x Reader

Summary: You’ve had a little too much to drink. Shit happens.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ only y’all. Unprotected sex (not a good idea), drunken shenanigans, dubious consent (explained further at the end of the chapter). I am being 200% serious, here: if you’re squeamish about anything even vaguely non-consensual, do not read this chapter.

Notes: For @hellomissmabel’s challenge. Ummmm…..sorry? Y’all gonna hate the reader even more after this one. I just…I can’t. There’s no justification for it.

AMUP Masterlist

The mission has been a success. You and Bucky have been in Kuala Lumpur for two weeks and in that time, you’ve managed to accomplish a lot of things. First and foremost, you’ve managed to decontaminate the drug load before it got distributed, using a fancy cocktail of chemicals that Stark cooked up. That had been a team effort, with Bucky doing some pretty intense seducing and sweet-talking, whilst you’d snuck into an abandoned warehouse to deal with the problem. In addition, the two of you managed to crack open a hole in Nova’s trafficking links, wheedling out some information from a low-level gang member — using no small amount of physical coercion — in order to determine the perfect location to plant a double-agent. All you need to do is get back to the compound and pass on the relevant information.

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The Diplomat.

//Jerome x Reader.

Requested: Yes.

Summary: Y/n is Oswald Cobblepot’s younger sister; she is the definition of innocence. She helps him with the social stance to negotiating, and is with him while he is trying to negotiate with one of the newest, most hyped criminal. Jerome Valeska.

Rating: Mid-fluff.

Warnings: Threats, language, slightly flirtatious Jerome.

Need to know: Set after Jerome’s revival, as he has more power, etc. (Also, I don’t have many revived Jerome fics.)

Title: The Diplomat. //

“Now, listen y/n,” Oswald says as he hobbles towards the gigantic garage door. “I don’t want you to have to do this, but if you do, I’d feel more comfortable if you had this.” He turns to her, pressing a gun to her palm, urging her to take it. Y/n sighs softly, staring down at the sleek black gun.

“I’d rather not, Oz, I think I’ll be fine…I’ve never needed one before.” Y/n says tentatively. Oswald’s head tilts as he stares down at her, and his head shakes, his mouth open slightly.

“Y/n, please do this for me.” Oswald’s eyes searches y/n’s. “These are bad people, y/n. If shit hits the fan, they won’t care who is armed and who isn’t. They’ll shoot you, y/n. So, take the damn gun.” He hated being harsh towards y/n but sometimes he didn’t have a choice. A small, irritated sigh slips past y/n’s lips as she grabs the gun from him, instantly flicking the safety on. Although Oswald knew y/n wasn’t really upset with him, he still felt guilty. He knew she could take care of herself, but it was always more a question of would she. Oswald dusts of his jacket, stands slightly straighter, and knocks his umbrella -which he uses as a cane- against the door five times, then four, and finally one. The door creaks and groans, and then lurches upwards slowly, the whole way squeaking as it rolls up. Oswald motions with his head for everyone else to enter first. They move forward as Oswald does, followed lastly by y/n.

Once she’s in the storage unit, the door closes- much quicker than it had opened. The slightly pale ginger stands up with a flair, his permanent smile widening as he moves forward to greet them.

“Hello, Oswald.” He says, his voice gruff as he stretches out his hand. Y/n moves forward, holding out her hand to shake his too, but his gaze merely stops on her for a second. His eyes light up slightly, and he withdraws his hand.

“Yes, hello.” Oswald says hastily. Jerome’s gaze flicks down to the gun in y/ns hands, and his eyebrows shoot up as he turns over to Oswald, his eyes sparkling as he tilts his head.

“You shouldn’t give toys to little kids; not toys like that,”

“I’m not a kid.” Y/n mumbles, not looking over at him. His eyebrows shoot up even higher as he whirls around to face her.

“Ah, she speaks!” He claps his hands together once, and moves in front of her, staring down at her. “Oswald, what is it that you wanted?” He continues, moving too fast for y/n too keep up. He turns around, spinning in a circle, stopping when he stands in front of him. “Because as you kn-ackaugh.” He pauses, his whole body wrenching as a look of pain crosses his scarred face, his eyes closing tightly. Jerome clears his throat roughly, his body again spasming. He cranes his neck up, arching his back slightly as he stretches his neck, his head rolling from side to side. When his eyes finally do open, they roll over to peer at y/n before he laughs roughly. “Sorry about that- being stabbed in the neck will do that to you.” He taps his wrist, staring down at y/n still. “Why did you take her here?” He moves forward quickly, and a look of panic crosses Oswald’s face. Jerome reaches out, grabbing her chin gently and moving her head up and down, side to side, examining her face. “This isn’t exactly what I was expecting in payment, but…”

“I am not trading you my sister!” Oswald hisses, moving forward violently. One of Jerome’s lackeys moves forward quickly, restraining Oswald as Jerome hops away from y/n, a shrill, loud laugh erupting from him.

“It was a joke,” he wheezes, grasping his sides as he bursts into another fit of rough, high pitched laughter. “Can’tcha take a joke, Oswald?” He grins at him, and holds his hands up quickly. “Look, I’m not here to make enemies.” A short, bubbly laugh flies past his lips once more before all expression leaves his face. His eyes burn as he looks at Oswald and y/n. “Unless you want to make enemies.” He casts his gaze over to y/n once more, smiling brightly. “Hey there, sweet cheeks. Be a doll and give me your gun?”

“Don’t talk to her like that Jerome!” Oswald explodes, staring at Jerome, murder written in his eyes.

“Oswald, stop.” Y/n says, holding her arm out in front of him. She steps forward, locking gazes with Jerome as she holds up her gun. His eyes only leave hers every few seconds to look at the gun. “This?” Y/n asks, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

“Yes, that gun. Is there another damn gun would I be talking about?” He growls. Y/n pulls her other arm away from Oswald and holds the gun out to Jerome.

“Just calm down, okay?” She meets his gaze once again. “We don’t want any trouble.”

“Ha! Hard to believe, with your brother over there.” Jerome barks out a laugh, eyeing the gun but not taking it.

“Jerome.” Y/n says firmly. Something about the way she speaks compels Jerome to meet her gaze. “I don’t want any trouble, Jerome.” She moves forward, grabbing Jerome’s hands. At this point, all of his followers are tense, fingers on their triggers. Y/n nudges Jerome’s hands open gently, placing the gun in them. He stares down at her, his eyes darkening as he grips on to one of her wrists tight, tossing the gun across the room with his other.

“You’re brave for someone so quiet.” Despite all the angry noises coming from Oswald, Jerome reaches out and strokes y/n’s cheek. “So, gentle,” he murmurs, every feature on his face softening. As y/n feels herself getting lost in Jerome’s eyes, her heart pounds quickly.

“And you don’t seem very dangerous for the most infamous criminal in Gotham.” She comments, tilting her head so his hand is cupping her face more, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “But, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. Right?”

Jerome pulls away from her, his whole-body stiffening. “That’s exactly right, doll.” He waves his hand in the air. “Just, do whatever you’d like, Oswald. We can team up whenever, you need a favor, I’m your guy, you need supplies; I’m your guy. Take whatever you want now, we can just get more.” Oswald’s jaw drops open, and one of Jerome’s followers turn to him.

“Bu- but Jerome, are you-” His voice is silenced by the bang of a bullet as it sinks through his skull. Jerome stares at his gun in shock, as if he hadn’t known it was loaded, and then tosses it aside carelessly. He turns back to y/n one more time.

“Do me a favor,” he says softly. “Don’t trust anyone but your brother. He’ll take care of you, he’ll keep you safe.”

“Well, can’t I trust you?”

“No. Come to think of it, I don’t want you coming around here again.”

“Well, why not? Maybe I want to come down here some more.” Jerome swallows roughly.

“I can’t have you around me. You’re going to stay away from me.”

“I don’t have to do what you say.” Y/n says, easily getting fed up with his sudden coldness towards her. “You barely even know me, what’s your deal?”

“I know that I’ll like you, y/n. I know that I’ll love you, in fact. That can’t happen, y/n. It can’t.

“Maybe I want it to happen,” she calls out, shocking Jerome and Oswald. They both turn to look at her, jaws slack.

It can’t! When people like me, like your brother, when we care about people, they get used as leverage. Your brother let you out of the house much?”

“No…no?”

“My point exactly. If people knew he cared for you, knew he was your sister…you’d be dead in an instant, doll.” Jerome laughs, and turns around. “So, I’ll say it again; you aren’t coming back around here. Oswald, get her out of here.”

As y/n leaves, she makes a silent promise to herself.

She will visit him again.

She wants to see him again, and they’ve only just met. She’s already infatuated.

2

m a d a n c y :  h u n k s


guess who has two thumbs, one sore hand, blurry vision and stayed up till 6am readjusting faces & hair whilst drinking?

this guy

Slytherin to My Heart | Yoongi

Originally posted by yoonseok

Pairing: reader x slytherin yoongi | Hogwarts AU

Genre: angst + fluff

Summary: You hated Min Yoongi. He hated you. But the both of you were about to find out that hate was just a way to mask another passionate emotion.

A/N: lmao such a horrible pun but I couldn’t help myself nor could I help myself in writing a love-hate relationship with Yoongi. This is the longest one-shot I’ve ever written omg. I hope you all enjoy & as always if you have any questions about my BTS hp AUs or feedback on this one-shot, don’t hesitate to send an ask! I’ll be more than happy to answer them (:

p.s let’s pretend that prefects are allowed to take house points away from houses other than theirs.

Word Count: 9,176


“Muffet.” You cooed quietly as you cautiously walked down a hall, your wand producing a red laser-like light to attract your cat.

You hadn’t seen her all day and you were worried so not caring that it was past curfew, you snuck out of the Gryffindor dorms in search of her. You hoped you’d be able to find her before Filch or Mrs. Norris caught you or worse-

“Past curfew, Gryff.” Yoongi tsked as he appeared out of nowhere, tapping his wrist in a disapproving manner. His prefect badge glistened under the flames from the torches that lined the halls. “I think that amounts to ten points from your house, doesn’t it?”

And there was worse. Min Yoongi. The Slytherin prefect who loved to torture you with deduction of points.

“Or how about you admit you snuck out of your dorm because you knew you’d find me? I can’t blame you for that. I’m quite irresistible.”

He noticed the slight frown on your face and since you were taking a while to answer, he began to wonder if ten points was too harsh. But those thoughts were all thrown out as you opened your mouth.

“I’d rather insult a hippogriff, you nit-wit.”

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Too Much - Jaehyun

Ch.1  -  Ch.2  -  Ch.3  -  Ch.4  -  Ch.5

Suggested: Highkey need a Jaehyun scenario where he is a cold, ruthless and flawless assassin and runs into oc in some hilarious way and she refuses to believe he’s dangerous much to his dismay. I just need a super bad jae who goes from cold to annoyed to cute.

A/N: This should be a drama [there prolly is one like this already].
I’m sorry, I wasn’t sure how to go with this?? It’s one of those plots that need a lot of time and development, but- 

Word Count: 1,185


You smiled at the sight of the young girls teasing each other as they folded their clothes across the shop.
The scent of lavender tickled your senses, making you scrunch your nose. The warm tones of the setting sun splashed over the shops tiles and walls.
You gaze darted back to the novel you held, deeply engrossed. Your ears perked as you heard the distant chime of the bell, signaling the earlier customers had left. The silence granted you tranquility, allowing you to escape into the enthralling novel once again.

Several hours passed, the silent clock ticking with each passing moment. It was nearly time to close.
The bell clamored noisily, quick steps making their way toward you.

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Exceptions

“I’m not gonna ask you if you still want this tattoo because I’ve waited far too long for this day.”

Harry said seriously, making you roll your eyes playfully, propping your face with your hand on the table.

“You’re a tattoo artist, Harry. You’re kinda supposed to ask that.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes on you too before putting his tight black gloves on, running them through his hair.

“But I, have exceptions. You’re my wife and I wouldn’t let this go past.”

“I know, but still ask me.”

“And I know your answer before you could even say it!” he laughed, pinching your cheek.

“Ask me or I’ll go to Ed for this.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

He shook his head, squeezing black ink on a container, slightly shaking for it to flatten even though it’s not purely liquid.

“I’m serious, Harry.”

He sighed heavily, blowing out his hair with an amused but slightly annoyed expression on his face, knowing that you’re serious.

“Are you sure about this tattoo, baby?”

You grinned, finally getting what you want.

“Yes.”

“See?” Harry flailed his arms around with a feigned look of shock in his face, getting a needle from a container he was sterilizing it with, wiping the liquid before installing it on the tattoo gun.

“But I do like your choice of a tattoo.”

“No, you love it.”

“Because, you’ll be getting your husband’s initials which is of course written by him, tattooed on your wrist, by himself.”

He added emphasis on each word to rub the facts on you, each passing second being a lot more entertaining than you expected it to be.

Especially of what he did to commemorate this day, he cancelled all his appointments for the day, the two of you being the only two people in his shop.

He already put the sticker stencil on you, pulling it after he set all his materials ready so he wouldn’t need to squint if some letters were smudged.

Harry was so enthralled by your idea.

H.S on your wrist.

He tapped the pedal a few times to see if it’s going well, and it is. You weren’t able to hide some of the nervousness you were feeling.

“Would you like the truth that it would hurt or would you like the lie that it’s not going to?”

You shot him a straight look, making him raise his hands up in defense.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

“It’s not working!”

Harry apologized at his will, hugging you from behind before running his hands on your arms.

“We’re gonna start, love, okay?”

“Okay.”

He grabbed your wrist gently, massaging it a few times before looking at you again, the tattoo gun on his left hand.

“Just look at me, okay? Not the tattoo.”

“Oka — but don’t look at me because you wouldn’t know what you’re doing if you did!”

He chuckled, his hand going through your hair.

“Of course.”

He looked at you for the last time before pressing his foot against the pedal, dipping the gun in ink before coming in contact with your wrist, making you slightly writhe in your seat because of the unfamiliar feeling.

“It’s coming close, love. You’re doing good.”

A few minutes passed with you not being still on your seat and Harry keeping you still, it going on until he took the final wipe of it, and grinning.

“Besides my promise, I’m permanently with you.”

Harry kept smiling, putting a piece of wrap over your tattoo and pulling out a small tube of cream.

You looked at it, adorning the way it fit you so perfectly.

Little did you know, Harry was looking at you the whole time, a grateful look on his face he always has.

“Hey, I love you.”

QN Evolution Concert Twitter Round Up/Report

DISCLAIMER: I DID NOT GO TO THE CONCERT OR THE LIVE VIEWING. I AM MERELY REPORTING/ROUNDING UP INFORMATION IN ONE POST FOR EASY ACCESS OF INFORMATION.

This is a really long post so I put it under the cut! I haven’t put everything I could onto this post but if there’s things you want to read up on you can read more about the live with #カルライレポ2017 on twitter!

Also no DVD/BD announcement yet

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Mr. Smartass [M]

What happens when you get partnered with know-it-all, Kim Namjoon, for a class project?

4k / smut / college!AU


“You will be partnered with…Namjoon Kim.”

Your professor’s words hung in the air, tension filling the large classroom.

Your fists clenched by your sides, trying your best to keep a neutral expression because you knew all eyes were on you, waiting for a reaction. Despite praying to be matched with your best friend, your professor’s “random” selection process had other plans. Just your luck, you had been partnered with the resident class know-it-all.

   Just perfect.

   Namjoon was an exchange student from South Korea that had come earlier in the semester, though you honestly wouldn’t have known he wasn’t born in the States because his accent was almost unnoticeable. There’s always been some palpable tension between the two of you, even dating back to the first day of class. Whenever you went to answer a question, he would refute it with some smartass comment. The two of you would go on for minutes, debating heatedly back and forth from across the classroom while everyone looked on like they were waiting for things to get violent (and it almost did, several times you had to stop yourself from throwing your textbook at his perfectly groomed head).

   You both were undoubtedly the best students in the class, though, if Namjoon’s grade was even a decimal point higher, you knew it was because he kissed the professor’s ass way more than necessary.

   Your professor continued reading the rest of the pairs from his list and you took a deep breath, thinking of ways to get out of this assignment.

   “I’m expecting great things from you all,” he said, looking between you and Namjoon with a smile before sending a wink in your direction. Your jaw dropped; this was definitely a setup, “Class is dismissed! Don’t forget to meet up with your partners before you leave and exchange emails and phone numbers!” he called over the sound of thank you’s and chairs scraping against the floor.
   
Putting your pride aside, you rose from your chair and walked to the other end of the room, rolling your eyes as you passed your best friend. She was gave you a pitiful smile as she spoke to her partner, a boy with a headful of greasy curls that covered half his face.

You finally made it over to him, and his eyes were trained on something he was reading on his phone.

“Namjoon,” you said cordially.

“Y/N,” he replied dryly, not even bothering to look up from the device.

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4th of July - Daddy’s Little Lovebug

Word Count: 1816

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Unbeta’d. All Mistakes are mine. Gifs aren’t mine. Credit to the owners. 

Daddy’s Little Lovebug Masterlist


“Daddy stop!” JoJo’s giggles could be heard throughout the bunker and you made your way to the source, trying to find out just how Dean was torturing your daughter to elicit that kind of laughter. “Daddy!”

“What?” He questioned, a smile of his own lighting up his face. “I’m trying to get you to wave it right! Now go!” He grabbed her arm that was holding a tiny American flag and shook it violently, waving the flag every which way making her whole body shake. You couldn’t resist snapping a picture of them playing before making your presence known.

“You really love torturing her, don’t you?” You stood in the doorway, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the doorframe, completely enthralled in watching them battle one another. “And what are you even wearing?” Dean Winchester before JoJo would never have been caught dead in a red, white, and blue star necklace and a sequined 4th of July hat, but damned if he wasn’t wearing one now.

“It’s patriotic, Y/N/N. Where’s your 4th of July stuff?”

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reality-isfor-muggles  asked:

Hi! Can you do a logicality fic or drabble, where our lovely boys are cuddling or playing with each other's hair? Just something fluffy, please! Tysm!

“Aw, Logaaaan!” Patton cooed, retracting his hand to squeal into his hands.  Huh, Logan hadn’t even realized Patton had a hand in his hair.

Apparently he was just that tired.  Oops.

Patton plopped his hand back down in Logan’s hair, massaging at the scalp once again.  And, once again, Logan leaned into the touch.  Logan couldn’t stand that he was giving into the touch so easily, but at this point the affection was much more desirable than reading his book.  

The logical side found it hard to keep his eyes open, forcing them wide as soon as they fluttered shut.  Yes, he realized it was against everything he stood for to refuse himself a full eight hours of rest, but it also went against everything in himself to allow himself to be what Patton considered “cute” right in front of him.

When did his head get on Patton’s shoulder?  No, no, this wouldn’t do.  Logan pulled his head up and let it drop toward his lap effectively curling his whole body forward.  Patton rubbed his back, scratching gently and kneading certain tension spots.  Oh, god, Logan tried so hard to not melt under the touch.  Why did Patton have to be good at that?!

Even still, no matter how hard he tried, Logan soon found it impossible to hold his eyes open.  He started to fall to the side, his body seeming to gravitate toward Patton, until he sprawled out across the moral side’s lap.

“Belly rubs?” Patton asked, teasing tone present.  He drummed lightly on Logan’s stomach, making him flinch and curl up.

“Absolutely not!” Logan fussed, rolling so he protected his stomach.  He rested his head on the arm of the sofa and tapped Patton’s wrist to get his attention.  Logan blushed and flinched when Patton excitedly buried a hand back in his hair.  

“Logaaaan, you’re so cute!”

Logan would have fussed again, had he not fallen asleep.

//*couGH COUGH* LOGAN DON’T REFUSE CUDDLES!! patton pampers him too much i swear

Sunday (M)

Summary: you were a busy person! Sundays were usually your day off but when your friend asked you out for coffee you were sure you knew exactly why. Sex. You had your regular boys throughout the week, kind of making a schedule for each boy, let’s see if Sunday boy can keep up. 

Words: 7,419 

Genre: Smut 

Warnings: uggghhh thigh riding, fem dom, switch play, orgasm denial, dirty talk lol alla dat n more probably

 A/n: So here it is! The start of my new series fic where the reader respectfully hoes around with a new bangtan member each day! I’ll try uploading each one a week apart from each other on the members coordinating day but I might mess that up bc I can’t control when inspo comes and goes😓 anyway, please enjoy Sunday boy- jungkook💖((( also ps. I changed up the formatting pls let me know if you like this style better😣💖))

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truth or dare

summary: Andrew doesn’t want to share his soul with anyone. Children from foster homes aren’t large on sharing, and the concept of a soulmate is as outdated as it is unlikely. His soulmate probably wouldn’t want him anyway. (compilation fic for @tfcfansgive)

Nicky, who’d grown up as boy fantasising about his soulmate, seemed almost as delighted to be a side character in the tale of Andrew Minyard’s epic romance. The first time they spent alone together, Nicky interrogated Andrew about all the details he knew of his soulmate.

“Nothing,” Andrew says. The skin condition - because that’s what the myriad of scars and wounds are best described as; an unsightly affliction - has never volunteered any significant information to him. Nor would he want it to.

“Nothing?” Nicky repeats, incredulous. “You’ve never even given them your phone number? Written ‘a/s/l’ on your arm?”

Andrew levels a flat stare on his newfound cousin. “I know they are more trouble than they are worth.”

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so listen there is only one type of sheith I write and it’s apparently soft af and that is my default I apologize for nothing enjoy these goobers being sweet and sappy with each other oh also there is mild nakedness but its in the context of exhausted cuddling. if you want a song try this one because I am a sucker and everyone should have this song on their sheith playlist okay enjoy

diamond in the dust

Jerking Black to the side, Shiro dodges a shot from the largest ship, wincing when it grazes Black’s flank. She groans her fatigue through the bond. They’ve formed and disbanded Voltron so many times throughout the course of this fight that Shiro’s shaking from exhaustion himself, both mental and physical. His left wrist quakes, palm sweating and sore in his glove as he yanks on the controls. Black spins.

They’d run into the fleet on accident. The surprise had been double sided, though the Galra fleet had numbers on their side and had pummelled the Castle while the Lions were still waking up. There seems no end to their continuous onslaught, more battlecruisers warping in to replace each one that Voltron slew. It’s slowly spiralling out of control.

Shiro exhales sharply. The fleet fans out beneath him in vicious purple stars. Weaving throughout are various forms of light: blue and yellow and green spinning, spinning. Red is a sturdy and telltale streak. Explosions are quickly strangled by space as the lights dart through the fleet. There’s too many. They don’t have the energy to continue like this.

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And The Poets Are Just Kids Who Didn’t Make It

Written for NurseyWeek, prompt Mistake.

Trigger warning for a panic attack

Nursey wasn’t sure where his day had gone to shit. He’d thought it was fine, he had his English Lit class in the morning, which he actually enjoyed, then a poetry workshop early in the afternoon.  Somehow, however, it had got to be too much, and he’d practically sprinted out of his workshop to go to the Haus, hoping for a piece of pie and a Bitty hug. He’d apparently forgotten that Thursdays were when everyone had class in the late afternoon except for him, meaning that he was now alone with his thoughts, which never ended well when he got to be like this.

Dropping to the ground, Nursey leaned against the back of the couch and drew his knees into his chest, closing his eyes and trying to breathe against the overwhelming sensation of everything going on around him and bearing too much weight and too many responsibilities down on him and he wasn’t good enough to deal with any of this and why did he think he possibly could succeed in life and why was he such a fuckup and why was everything he did a mistake-

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