(and it's so glorious in my head i scream and sob every day)


◦ pairing: reader x namjoon

◦ rating: m

◦ word count: 1.3k

◦ a/n: I felt like I was slacking on the Joonie smut so here’s some to make up for it :D Also I suck at titles sorry lol

m a s t e r l i s t

Your hair clung annoyingly to your forehead as your hands scrambled frantically to find something –anything– to hold on to. The cold metal handle of the shower door was the only thing it found amidst your shallow, shaky breaths. His lips were soft, and slick under the running water. Namjoon’s hands stroked up and down your body, swiping bubbled layers of soapy water over you. The bar of soap pressed against your flesh, its subtle scent breathing through the plumes of steam growing in the shower. You could see the faint reflection of yourselves in the mirror through the thick coat of steam on the glass, and it was so fucking hot. His tall body stood behind yours, his long fingers lost in your cunt. He sighed with content and he brushed his thumb lightly over your already sensitive clit. “God, I love you so much,” he grunted, placing a kiss at the nape of your neck.

After spending over a year together, you had learned that the best way to some amazing sex was some highly provocative pictures while he was already sweaty at dance practice and a little audio recording right as he was on his way home. The result was always some exciting and very long-lasting sex trip through the rooms of your house. Needless to say, it never failed.

His lips travelled along your shoulder, leaving soft kisses as his hand grazed up and down your thigh. He was tracing your hip bones softly with the soap before he dropped it suddenly to the hard shower floor and slammed straight into you. “Namjoon, fuck!” You screamed out, the echo reverberating against the white porcelain and glass of the shower. “Shit, yes, yes, yes,” you sobbed, your chest trembling with the glorious sensation of his cock hitting your insides. It wasn’t the first time tonight.

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All For You 3/3 (Finn Balor Imagine)

Part 1 2
Finn Balor x Reader
Warning:  Smut. Cursing.
A/N:  I’VE DONE IT AND I’M SO GLAD IT’S OVER. I apologize for anyone who was waiting (which I doubt but ya know)
     Tagged; @tatyanawaka @lclb13 @shadow-of-wonder @kurominonsense @kelstenkiara @sietefinns @castielscamander @oraclegazes @socyd @lindseyrae20 @eliza-kitty-cat @daintymissdevitt @princess3733 @nickysmum1909 @50shadesofadamcolebaybay @raphaelvavasseur @alexahood21 @unepetitecrise @grey-acefinn @gts-widow @fightblissfight @caramara3 @rainfoxx13 @hiitsmecharlie @widow-png @racheo91 @moxtiel @blondekel77  @fallavvay @wrestlinghasruinedmylife @crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans @totorototo-ro @grappling-giraffe @sunshinesamizayn @devittslegos
~6100 words

You’re the leader of a stable that is dominating Raw, and everything is going to plan. And then there’s Finn.

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Hope in the Little Things

Author: @xerxia31

Rating: G

A/N: A mon amie Florence, et les autres amis en France et autour du monde: Tant qu’il y a de la vie, il y a de l’espoir…

A little canon post MJ slice of life. Thanks to @burkygirl and @peetabreadgirl for editing and cheerleading.

It’s another bad day in a string of bad days.

In the eighteen months since the end of the war, Katniss and I have struggled to regain some sense of ourselves, to heal and grow and build a life, both separately and together.

It hasn’t been easy. Every step forward has been followed by a shuffle back, every bit of trust gained has come with a price. But every piece of herself that she’s given me is real. Every speck of our relationship, the good and the bad, all of it is real. There are no cameras anymore.

And I have hope that eventually the good days will outnumber the bad.

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Your Life Has More Worth Than Mine

Fandom: Lord of the Rings

Word Count: 1983

Readers Gender: Female

Warnings: None :)

Sorry, this is REALLY long. I read the rules and stuff and it said not too long, so if this is then you don’t have to post it or whatever you would do :). Also, I saw there was one that was already based off of “Imagine sacrificing your life to save Legolas” so if you don’t want to post it, then you don’t have too.

One last thing, if you could give the credit to my personal blog that would be great!  -Anna


“All right, (Y/N), now stay very close to me and try not to wonder off,” your father said pulling you a little bit closer to him. “See that? That is Rivendell, the outpost of the Elves. Isn’t it beautiful?” He pulled you behind a small bush to make sure that the Elves didn’t see you, for they did not act kindly to trespassers.

“Very beautiful daddy. Do you think we can go inside right now?” you asked curiously.

“Maybe, but not right now, sweetheart, we have to be home in time for supper!” your father exclaimed.

“Well, maybe another time then, right?”

“Of course, now lets get home so mommy won’t be worried about us, all right?” you father said lifting you off your feet and putting you on top of his shoulders. You giggled and held onto the top of his head for support as he strolled down to your village, already smelling the amazing food that your mother was preparing.


You were probably about seven when your father first brought you to Rivendell. After that, you would visit it whenever you could, with or without your father. And it eventually became a habit.

One day, when you were seventeen, you snuck out of the house because your parents had been fighting. Now they weren’t just fighting about the usual ‘it’s your turn to take all the dirty dishes out to the water hole and clean them’ or ‘why were you out late last night?’ It was worse, you had no idea what they were actually fighting about, but it was an intense dispute. They were throwing glass at the walls of your small home, yelling curses at each other, stomping around, and your father even threatened to leave.

You ran to the familiar bush that you had visited everyday sat down in the dirt, not worrying if it would ruin your pants. You let the first few tears flow freely, trying not to make much of a sound, but failing after a few moments. You pulled your knees to your chest and put your face into your knees. You slowly let the slow sobs turn into violent cries.

“Are you alright?” an unfamiliar voice said. You were startled by it and instantly grabbed your bow and pulled an arrow out of your quiver, aiming where the voice had come from. The unfamiliar person put their hands up in surrender but you didn’t put your bow down, not knowing if he was a trustable individual or not.

“Who are you?” you asked sternly, wiping the few tears that were still on your cheek with your shoulder.  

“I am Legolas, prince of the Woodland Realm. And you are?”

“I am (Y/N), um, of the Village of the Edains.” You replied confidently.

“What are you doing out here? You could be in Rivendell, after all, you were the group that helped us fight against Morgorth in Beleriand!”

“I ran from home, I have not been able to find the trail back to the village,” you said pretending you were lost.

“If you are lost, then I am more than happy to lend you a place to stay here in Rivendell. It is the least I could do for a beautiful young lady like yourself,” Legolas offered, giving you a warm and friendly smile. You didn’t want to trust him right away, but his expression seemed genuine and you didn’t suspect in any way that he was lying, so you returned the smile and gladly took his offer, not worrying what your parents would think. You’re already almost 18; it might be good for you to live away from them.


It had been quite a few years since you started to stay in Rivendell, and it wasn’t really all that bad. You expected to be friendly to you and accept you as one of them because you were an Edain. But, you weren’t hated, just ignored or avoided, nothing special. Basically, no one ever really took the time to get to know you, so you only had Legolas and Thranduil to be with. They both accepted you because they wanted to help a lost soul who had nowhere else to go. So, naturally, you became attached to them.

“(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you for almost two days! You usually visit me everyday, what had happened?” Thranduil asked as you came closer to him.

“I’m sorry for not coming yesterday, my king, I was just viewing the immense beauty of Bruinen, it is a spectacular gorge,” you replied with a slight bow of your head and curtsey.

“How many times have I told you, just call me father, (Y/N)! I have always felt you as a daughter to me and that will only be true if you call me father!” Thranduil exclaimed, smiling from pointed ear to pointed ear.

“Of course, my apologies, as you already know, I am a very forgetful person,” you responded.

“Nonsense, please come, tell me more stories about your old life. I know I ask almost everyday, but it just fascinates me deeply,” Thranduil said inviting you to sit next to his throne.

“Well, I do recall that when I was a young girl, I got my very first bow. It was a tradition in my village that all the boys and girls got bows when they came of age so they could start to learn defense, for our village would be raided by orcs and wolves many times. So, my father put it in this beautiful hand crafted wooden box that he had made especially for this occasion. I remember opening it and wanting to test it out immediately. I failed miserably the first few times I tried, but I eventually got into the rhythm of the art and got better each day,” you began. You told him about how you would hunt for the family and always practiced with a target painted on a tree that had been in the village for centuries. As you were finishing up the story, Legolas came running up to the throne.

“Father! (Y/N)! I was looking for you,” he said coming to join you.

“(Y/N) was just telling me the story of the time she got her first bow, how glorious it must’ve been,” Thranduil explained, smiling even brighter than ever. I always seemed to put a smile on his face with my stories, even though they were just stories of your childhood.

Legolas looked at you as if you were the most beautiful and precise thing in Middle Earth, which made your heart melt.

“My, my, you two would make the perfect married couple,” Thranduil commented. He must’ve noticed how the both of you look at ach other. You both started to blush, turning a bright pink.

“When will the two of you become betrothed?” he asked. “I know Legolas has been waiting a long time now, he is becoming restless.”

“Father!” Legolas scolded.

“What? I know (Y/N) would like it as much as you!” Thranduil exclaimed. Your face began an even darker pink as he read your exact thoughts. When you and Legolas looked at each other, a solider ran up to the throne, bowing before he started.

“My king, orcs, have invaded Rivendell,” he said. All three of you eyes bulged out of our heads, well not literally. Legolas quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you up from the ground. He brought you down the stairs and to where both of your weapons were stashed. He opened the heavy door to the room and you both grabbed your quiver and bows.

“Here, take this just in case,” Legolas said, handing you a long sword that was just your size. He also handed you some armor and helped you place them onto your body. He placed some on his self before grabbing your hand once again and guiding you to where the orcs had came in.

Rivendell was a mess. Every Elf there was fighting and it was pure chaos. No one had ever expected orcs to invade so it wasn’t like everyone had their armor and weapons handy.

“Over here!” Legolas said, guiding you to where you would begin to battle. You had been trained by Thranduil and Legolas to use the elvish weapons and had become quite good and were quite confident in your level of performance.

You started to slay Orcs left and right while staying close to Legolas.

You would switch from sword to bow every once in a while, but mainly relying on your bow. Orc after Orc after Orc died right in front of you, but there was one that Legolas was struggling with, so you decided to help.
You ran over to Orc and slashed your sword at its leg, making a large cut mark. It yelled in pain, but still fought on. You and Legolas dodged all of his swings and shot your arrows all over his body, but the big boy didn’t give up.

Suddenly an Orc came up behind Legolas, but he was unaware, so you took action. The Orc was about to swing his sword right through Legolas’ head, but you ran behind him and took the hit. You screamed as the sword slashed right through your armor and into your stomach, piercing through your skin.

Legolas finished off the large Orc and heard your scream. He whipped his head and saw you lying on the ground, clutching onto your stomach.

“(Y/N)!” you heard Legolas scream from over the mess. He bent down to you and swiftly picked you up, rushing out of the mess.

“(Y/N), please stay with me, come on,” Legolas said holding onto your hand. Elves could take more hits than men and their wounds heal faster. Lucky for you, you weren’t an Elf. He tried everything on you, spells, potions, enchantments, but nothing worked. You just accepted the fact that you were going to die.

“(Y/N), listen to me, you are going to get out of here alive, you hear me? I am going to do everything in my power to make sure,” he said starting to break down into gentle sobs.

“Hey, hey, babe, don’t worry about me, it’s just my time,” you started, placing your hand on Legolas’ warm cheek.

“No, no, no don’t you dare say that (Y/N), you can’t,” he said placing his hand on top of yours.

“Hey can you do me a favor?” you asked Legolas.

“Whatever you want.”

“Just hold me closer, it’s really cold in here,” you said. He nodded and pulled you closer to him, so your bodies were fully pressed against each other. The warmth of his body sent chills down your spine. He kissed your cheek and snuggled his face into the crook of your neck.

“I love you so much,” Legolas confessed.

“I love you too.” Legolas slowly pulled you away from his body just enough so your faces were centimeters away from each other’s. He inched his face closer to yours until the gap was filled. His soft, warm lips collided with yours and it felt like you were on Cloud Nine. You kissed back with all the energy that you had left in you, as there was barely any left.

The world around you slowly started to fade away and light surrounded you. Your lips left Legolas’ and it started to rain. Either that was rain or it was Legolas’ tears.

You slowly felt yourself being lifted from all the pain that you had been enduring.

“(Y/N)?” you heard Legolas say. You couldn’t see him anymore because your vision had completely diminished, but you could still feel his soft touching and warming voice. He entangled his hand into yours, squeezing it tightly. “I love you, (Y/N), so much.”

You smiled as you slowly drifted into a sleep that you would never awaken. 

You Had Me At Loki: Chapter 35

TITLE: You Had Me At Loki: Chapter 35


AUTHOR: winterheart17


GENRE: Drama, Erotica, Romance

FIC SUMMARY: Based on my one shot, Surrender.  Arwynn is half Midgardian and Asgardian and has loved Loki since she was 9.  When she finally becomes his chambermaid, they become lovers but will Arwynn ever get her happy ending with this arrogant, demanding and jealous God?


Author’s note: *drumroll* And 35 is here! Gosh, I didn’t expect to write it in one day but write it I did! About 2 chapters to go from here! Eepssss…and sorry about 34, lovelies :3 I only hope 35 doesn’t come as too much of a surprise for you sweethearts and pleaseeee know I do have a plan for where I’m going with these two, okay? Just gotta have a little faith in them ;) And oohhh Mama Frigga makes an appearance ;) Thank you so much for your beautiful messages and any feedback is greatly appreciated! *huggles*

And in case anyone wants the masterpost for it: You Had Me At Loki


I blinked as I stared blankly at the ceiling. 

This is home now.

I was back to where I was from before.  Asgard.  My room.  Alone.

Nothing has changed.

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Jamie/Claire fic

Perhaps this fic speaks more about my state of mind rather than our beloved characters. But I needed some comfort, so Jamie called Claire over, in my head of course, and with their words told me to put Sam & Cait away for now and let me find peace in their world for a while.

(I swear I’m not crazy)

I suggest reading Comfort first. Set in S1E03. It doesn’t play a huge role, but they are tied in. It can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8607775?view_adult=true

This is set in the following episode when Claire tries to make her escape from Leoch and stumbles, (literally) over Jamie in the barn.

Side note: I am shipper. I’m wet from the waves and a little sea-sick…maybe it’s just the kale I ate…but don’t follow me unless you want to be inundated with S/C stuff and a lot of smutty S/C fic. 

Just wanted to be clear.  Peace to all, whatever your ship.

Comfort Revisited

I was angry. He had thwarted my plan. It didn’t matter if he was right in all he said. Extra guards. Unknown horse. I sighed heavily, defeated.

I’ll take you back up to the castle,” he had said. I groaned inwardly, telling him the tale of my escape and the clan members, Dougal included, that I had met along the way.

Jamie, alert and concerned at first, had laughed when I had told him of my reactions to Dougal’s advances. But he had gone quiet, pulled into his head for a moment, contemplating something, before speaking once more.

“I canna promise I can get ya back to the surgery without no one noticing. You could stay here, maybe.”

“What? With you?” I wasn’t so delicate as to scoff at the idea of spending the night in a barn. But I hadn’t forgotten what had gone on between us only a week before. Up until now, I hadn’t even thought of it. Best kept locked in a drawer in my head.

“I wouldna mind it so much, Claire, if you’d oblige me. Staying, is what I mean. Seems we would both would be getting somethin out of it.”

I shot him a quizzical, almost accusing stare. Did he think I was going to re-enacting my earlier actions? He stumbled over a nervous laugh, the blush rising in his cheeks as he continued.

“What I mean, lass,” he touched my hands, “is that I would feel the warmth of a woman next to me, even if you nay touch’d me. But I’d drift away into peace with the smell of your hair and softness of your skin. Just in knowin’ you’re there. And you,” I met his eyes, which, until now, had been planted firmly upon his feet, “you’d maybe be okay with me being the one to comfort you. Even if ya wilna let me touch ya. But you could turn into my side for quiet while you wept.”

“What makes you think I need to cry?” I was angry again, like the moment before. I wasn’t some little lassie that needed rescuing. I tried to pull my hands from his grasp, but he held on, stepping forward, pulling a stubborn strand of straw from my dishevelled hair.

“Because I ken what it’s like to be alone in a strange place.” He spoke the words softly as if opening a door only slightly, allowing just the bit of himself to be seen in the soft glow.

I bowed my head in shame. Jamie had been the one thing that had been good about this place. The one person that I did allow my guard to, every now an then, retreat from its post for a moment of rest.

I looked round to his make-shift bed where he had been spending the day, away from the clan. It certainly didn’t look any worse than places I’d slept during the war. My hands began to tremble in his, whether it was from the cold or the dam that held my feelings, held at bay until now, about to collapse with brutal force, bringing with it unrelenting waves of sobs. I was terrified what I might tell him if I couldn’t patch it back up.

Jamie pulled me next to the barn wall, bringing me down to the bed of hay at our feet, tossing my wrapped food a foot away. We knelt in front of each other before he released my hands, extinguishing the light.

“Rest now, Sassenach. I’ll wake before anyone finds us,” and as I lowered myself onto my bed for the night, Jamie pulled the straw in around is, cocooning us in an itchy sort of comfort.

Jamie was true to his word. He didn’t touch me. His back was to the wall, and the rest of his body contoured around my billowing dress. I tried to pull the cloak and gown in closer to me. Whether, subconsciously, meaning that Jamie could lean in closer, or to shield myself further from the chill, I can’t really say. Or maybe, I just wouldn’t admit.

I listened to his steady breathing, his warm breath catching the back of my hair and allowed my eyes to close in wishful sleep. I thought if I thought hard enough, I could conjure Frank from the ether, but each time I would see him walk through the fog, when he made to move the hat off his head, he suddenly became Jamie. My distinguished, scholar husband evaporated into a Highlander. A strong built, tall man with a commanding stance and calm presence. Beautiful hair that made me question whom he had gotten it from. Was his mother’s hair this glorious, deep red? Or was it perhaps, his father that he mirrored in image?

My imagination fluttered and scattered across one thought to the next until it rested upon his face. Just his beautiful boyish face, hints of manhood sprouting across his cheeks and chin. I hadn’t intended for it to enter my mind. I had felt the jab of thought occasionally cut through my thoughts since we’d met, but quickly mended the tear.

What must his face feel like against mine? Frank had always kept a close shave. Each and every day, without fail, he had dragged the razor across his cheek with such precision. I barely felt more than a five o’clock shadow, his hair growing slowly as it did.

But Jamie’s… when he spoke, I watched his mouth. Watched as his lips moved, his tongue rolling his r’s and his face, with it’s sprouting hair, became something I had had to shake out of my head. Sometimes it worked. Other times, I would feel the dampness between my legs and I would clutch my thighs together tightly willing it to stop, fighting with every part of me, to ignore the feel of him beneath my hand in the surgery that day.

I held my breath and first the first time, I heard nothing but silence. I waited. Finally, the soft snore from behind me made me relax. The sounds from the gathering far off in the distance still carried across the night. But that moment, just before, I had heard nothing. Not even my own heart beat.

I felt safer in this bed made of straw and mud than I had in days. I could just try to scramble out of here on foot. But Jamie would catch me. What would he do then? Would he promptly take me back up to the castle and to Colum? Would he yell at me and tell me I was foolish again? Or would he finally do what my mind was screaming at me for him to do. I closed my eyes, his breath, becoming a part of my imaginary world, was picking up speed. He was chasing me through the wood.

I ran fast into the dark of night, cutting through the mist like sun breaking through the clouds. I could hear Jamie’s pants as he followed close behind, his footfalls crashing over the leaves.

I looked over my shoulder at the sleeping form next to me, carving his face into memory as I turned back. I reached down to the hem of my dress, as quietly as I could, bringing it up higher to fit my hand beneath its heavy blanket. I fumbled with the layers, growing desperate to forget everything but the sensation growing between my thighs.

My cool hand touched the heat of my body and I arched against it, a soft whimper escaping my mouth. I closed my eyes, conjuring up more images of an emerging Scot in the mist.

Jamie, catching up, took hold of my flailing arms and pushed me against a sturdy tree. I struggled. Words never formed in either of our mouths, but I could feel perspiration drip from my upper lip just before he swept in to steal it away with his tongue before pushing it past my lips, owning my mouth. My body fought against him which only made his grasp on my wrists tighten as he pushed his hardness, shielded only slightly by his kilt, into me.

My finger, focusing solely on my clit until now, moved slowly down, encountering a hand that wasn’t mine. My mind froze. I hadn’t even noticed him waking, let alone reaching beneath me. Images of slapping the hand away and springing up from the ground to run only furthered my fevered imagination. So instead, I just lay silent. Hoping – willing – him to be asleep. An idle hand, lost in his own dreams, I hoped, simply venturing out for a stroll.

But he wasn’t asleep. Jamie shifted against me, his hand still, grazing mine, resting on the wet curls beneath my clothes.

I sniffled, the emotion welling up inside me, then moved my hand to guide his inside me in silence. I felt his fingers, first one, then a second added only a moment later, stretch inside me. If his fingers were this large…

Tears began to slide down my cheeks, betraying my stubbornness to give in.

“Shh. Lass. Just let it go. Not forever. Just for now.”

I rolled over, burying my head in his chest, while his fingers worked inside my body. I made to take hold of him through his kilt, but he stopped me. I looked up into his eyes, a sliver of moonlight cutting through a break in the stone, causing his eyes to sparkle like stars in a cold nights’ sky.

“You took me in your embrace and cared for me last week, Claire. I don’t need it so much myself tonight. But I think you do.”

His hands, seemingly unskilled and clumsy at first, quickly found their stride, and as he pushed inside me, I felt as though he was pushing my tears out from within as well. My head fell forward against his chest once more, the smell of sweat and manure from his shirt causing my nostrils to flare in not an entirely unpleasant manner.

His free arm moved under my head cradling me to his body while he worked me. I clutched at his shirt, tears from the seams slicing through my moans and sobs until finally, my body shook in a relentless quake, shattering every wall I had so carefully stacked up and plastered, to crumble to bits on the ground all around me.

I wept into his shirt, tears from my cheeks joining the stains of his labour. He carefully removed his hand from inside me, bringing it around my body to meet its pair.

I wept for my old life. For Frank. Wept for my escape plan shot to hell and the unknown world I may very well be stuck in forever.

I wept for it all, except for tonight. Tonight, I lay in the arms of a man strong enough to break down my walls, but strong enough to put me back together again.