◦ a/n: Since my boys were eating well and taking beautiful pictures and finally resting on their “BTS Friendship Trip”, all my inspiration flowed in the direction of Got7 and BAP (mostly towards Jackson Wang cause wow do I wanna bang ;)). So here’s a really weird daydream I had in the middle of Econ (cause who cares about wealth inequality when you can get Wanged) I’m so sorry I hate myself for that too. Please don’t unfollow me.
“Fuck, baby,” Jackson moaned into you as he tugged you into his body by your clothes. You were taken aback by his suddenness; the bedroom door had just barely closed and the rest of the boys were still in the house. You shrugged the coat off your body promptly, hardly stopping to ask questions as you leaned into the warmth of your boyfriend’s body. “Watching you fight like that,” he breathed, his lips hovering over yours as he groped at your sides, grabbing every bit of flesh that he could through your clothes. “Might have been the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growled into your neck as his hands took handfuls of your ass, locking his lips into your sweet spot. You hummed with approval as your hands stroked the hair at the base of his neck, letting his breathing grow heavy against your skin as he pulled you in for more. He loved when you touched the back of his neck like that.
You were a stunt double and combat choreographer and Jackson had been on set to pick you up on the way home. He showed up a little early and figured that instead of waiting around in front of the building, he would come see what you did. He had never actually seen you in action; he only knew that you were good at fighting, and never to steal your phone from you or scare you unexpectedly– two mistakes he had made before. Then, he watched you strut around the studio in a sleek, leather one-piece outfit and order around the actress and cameraman to get the best shot. You had him turned on faster than you could pin a man twice your size to the ground– and seeing you do just that only turned him on all the more.
“Tell me what to do,” he blurted in the midst of his kisses before rolling the t-shirt up, off your body.
irene coming to visit and john gets jealous qwefghjk
Sherlock isn’t surprised when the first thing John does upon entering the flat is drop the bag of groceries in his hand. He looks up from where he’s perched in his chair to find John standing in the doorway, his eyes glued to the woman that’s standing by the fireplace.
“Ah, good. You’re back,” Sherlock says, smiling. “You remember Ms. Adler, of course.”
Irene turns around, all grace and elegance, and gives John a mischievous smile. “Hello, John,” she says. Her smile widens, and she tilts her head when John doesn’t move. “Aren’t you going to come in? We’ve just been having a lovely chat.”
John stares at her hard, and Sherlock can see a muscle twitching in his jaw. He can’t help feeling a bit amused. It wasn’t as if he could be shocked that she was alive since he’d already deduced that on Sherlock’s birthday. And his jealousy was now completely redundant considering he’d spent the past two weeks sleeping in Sherlock’s bed, usually very much unclothed.
“What are you doing here?” John asks, his voice hard, and then he looks at Sherlock. “What is she doing here?”
“Ooh, still so feisty,” Irene purrs, and John’s fists clench.
Sherlock sighs and stands up, handing Irene the piece of paper she’d given him upon her arrival. She takes it from him, folding it up and slipping it down into her shirt, her eyes wicked.
Sherlock rolls his eyes at her and turns to John. “She requires my assistance. For a case,” he says.
He walks over to John–whose eyes are once more narrowed on Irene–and steps right into his space, raising one hand to his jaw, urging John to look at him. His shoulders are set in a tense line, his jaw tight, and he lets out a shaky breath when he meets Sherlock’s eyes.
“John,” Sherlock says softly.
“I don’t care if I’m being ridiculous,” John says immediately, his voice low enough that Irene wouldn’t be able to hear. “I don’t want her here.”
“I know,” Sherlock says. “She’s not staying. She’s leaving town again tonight. And, for the record, you are being ridiculous.”
John opens his mouth, but Sherlock kisses him before he can say whatever angry words are on the tip of his tongue. John huffs, but he doesn’t pull away, allowing Sherlock to tilt his head back and kiss him soundly until John’s hands are curled into Sherlock’s shirt at his sides rather than into tight fists.
“Oh, bravo,” Irene says, sounding highly amused, and John breaks away, tension flooding him again. “Took you two long enough.”
“You can leave anytime,” John snaps.
Irene walks over to them, every step calculated and every movement flawless. She pauses just next to them and reaches out to run her hand down Sherlock’s bicep, which has John’s teeth snapping together and his eyes hardening.
“Goodbye, Sherlock,” she says, but her eyes are on John, and she winks at him. “It was absolutely wonderful to see you again.”
Sherlock resists the temptation to roll his eyes again. “Do go along before John has a fit.”
“Oh, but he’s so cute when he’s all riled up,” Irene says sweetly. “Besides, I’m sure he’s a fabulous shag when he’s in such a state.”
“Out!” Sherlock orders, pointing at the door.
Irene sighs. “Fine, fine. So touchy, the both of you.” She sweeps out of the door, but not before adding, “I’ll be in touch.”
John doesn’t relax until he hears the door to 221 close, and even then he’s still thrumming with palpable anxiety. Sherlock steps closer, pushing until John’s back hits the wall, and he kisses him, soft and slow and deep. John’s fingers thread through his hair, tight and desperate, and Sherlock presses him to the wall with his whole body, surrounding him.
“She means nothing to me, John,” he says into his mouth.
John just shakes his head hard. “You saved her life.”
“You saved mine,” Sherlock breathes, and John goes still. Sherlock pulls back just enough to look into his face, reaching up to trail his fingertips down one cheek.
John just stares at him for a long moment, his eyes wide, and then he pushes up onto his toes to kiss him again, and this time he’s not trembling with jealousy or anger, only with desire, and Sherlock follows him willingly down the hall and into the bedroom.
Request: Prompts 25 (“So go find someone else. Someone who will love you the way I never have, the way I never will.”) 30 (Please don’t give up on this, on us) 31 (I love you so much it physically hurts to not be around you) 36 (You’re all I ever wanted)
Warnings: Angst, swears, fighting, mentions of parents divorced
word count: 2569
That’s what everyone thought you and Jughead were.
You had been friends for years, since you were old enough to walk. You got along beautifully and no one had ever seen you fight your entire friendship.
Then at 17 years old Jughead asked you out. He admitted his feelings for you had been more than friends for years, but he never had the courage to tell you, lucky for him, you loved him right back.
You had been dating your best friend for 3 months now, and in the last month, he had been too busy to see you.
Many Pop’s dates were forgotten about, each time you prayed it would be different from the last as you sat, alone in your booth, looking at your phone, the time ticked away and there was never any new messages.
“No, I think that’s exactly what you meant,” Stiles says, voice hoarse.
“Stiles,” Derek murmurs, hating how the small space between them smells of betrayal and sadness. It’s a horrible stench overall, but knowing he’s the one who caused it is even worse. He doesn’t know how to fix it—still not used to dealing with situations like this—but he wants to. He wants to be able to kiss it better instead of walking away from open wounds.
He leans over the table, wanting to be closer but not sure if Stiles would appreciate him walking around it to where he’s standing his ground. They’re not looking at each other anymore, both their gazes on the table separating them. Derek purses his lips and slowly moves his hand across the surface to where one of Stiles is curled up to a fist, listening to the sound of their heartbeats quickening in sync.
Lieutenant Duckling - Rated T - Complete - 3330 Words
This is a short tale dedicated to my most wonderful @ofshipsandswans, who will graduate from school shortly! <3 I hope you enjoy it, my love!
The first time he saw her, he had no idea who she was, but he was instantly drawn. Trudging his way up the dock, Lieutenant Killian Jones unloaded a sack of grain from his shoulder, coughing as dust rose from the goods upon hitting the ground. He waved away the small cloud and glanced up toward the palace, where the Jewel’s haul was bound. A number of courtiers were milling about the grounds, dressed in yards of finery. He was ready to turn back for the next load when he heard a low humming. With a pause, he directed his gaze toward the sound.
Sitting upon a swing beneath a tree sat a vision, dressed in the color of the sun. Her long blonde hair was braided in a thick pleat, curled up into a loose chignon at the base of her neck. She picked at flowers in her hand, snowbells as he recognized them to be, as she idly swung back and forth in the afternoon shade. Dusting his hands off on his trousers and grabbing his coat from the railing, he made his way slowly toward the young woman. There was a pink blush of youth in her high cheekbones, and long, luxurious eyelashes told tales of the beauty she beheld. Clearing his throat, Lieutenant Jones offered a hand and stood just far enough away from the lady to remain as unthreatening as possible.
“May I give you a push, my lady?” He gestured to the swing upon which she sat.
Glancing up, the girl flashed bright green eyes and a slowly-growing smile. She took in the sight of his white sailor’s trousers and blue coat with very little insignia. “I suppose you may,” she replied, dropping the snowbells to her side. She wrapped long, thin fingers around the ropes of the swing and finally grinned. “It’s been ages since I had a proper go on this.”
“Allow me, then,” he replied, pink rising up his neck and into his cheeks. Stepping up behind her, he grasped the ropes and pulled them back slightly before releasing them to start a bit of momentum.
The girl in the yellow gown swung slowly upon his release, but as she felt herself moving back toward him once more, he gave a soft push at her shoulders that allowed the breeze to hit her face and her feet to completely leave the ground. Crossing her legs at the ankles, she giggled and bit down upon her lower lip. “Higher!” she cheered.
“Hold on tightly!” He replied and gave more of a push. The old rope swing was firm as it allowed her to soar up higher, higher over the lush green landscape below. Tendrils of her golden blonde hair escaped, framing her face as she laughed.
Her laughter stuck deep into his soul, and he knew he had never heard a sweeter sound. Stepping slightly aside, he allowed himself a moment to admire her beauty as she swung under her own power beneath the thick branch of the ancient oak. Her smile was the vision of youth and happiness itself, and it warmed his heart.
Levi is a prissy History teacher, who insists on everything being orderly, clean, and on time. Eren is an outgoing, fun-loving English teacher who every student loves. Oh, and they hate eachother’s guts. So naturally, the 104th class decides to get them together, by any means necessary.
Before cell phones. Before the Kardashians. Before internet porn. The year is 1994. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, poor kids from the wrong side of the tracks, have been transferred with the rest of their neighborhood to the posh, uptown Trost High (Home of the Titans). Mikasa and Armin seem to fit in well enough, but Eren isn’t quite so lucky. Of course, most of this has to do with Eren’s personality. When he accepts a bet to lose his virginity (and actually prove that someone likes him) by the end of the semester, it’s hard for him to deny the improbability of winning. After all, the only one he seems to be talking to these days is the weirdly pretty (and just plain weird) goth working at the donut shop down the street…
Eren Jaeger is sharp, determined and hard working but doesn’t consider himself beautiful or good looking in the least. When he lands his dream job, working at Survey Corp Publications as the Executive Assistant to a high-end Fashion magazine’s Editor-in-Chief, his life is turned Topsy-Turvy. All he wants to do is work hard to become an Editor, but his boss Levi seems keen on making his life a living hell.Levi is a notorious playboy who gets what he wants both in and out of the bedroom. As Editer-in-Chief of New York’s best selling high-end Fashion Magazine, Levi is forced to work with an overly determined, hot-headed brat with a rat’s nest for hair and the most incredible eyes he’s ever seen and it’s all because of Erwin Smith.
Real World AU. Eren Jaeger seems to have the good life. He just got into Rose University, Heaven for a Photographer, and his horribly absent Father is completely out of his life. But on Eren’s first day of University, he is given a project by his professor. Use all three art forms to prove your talent but theirs a catch. It has to be based on the musical run by the Drama Department, ‘Phantom of the Opera’. It’s not much of a problem until he end up with the senior ‘Phantom’ himself, Levi Ackerman. With time, they get closer and closer until they realize that their future is in jeopardy. Are you Ready?
Eren, 17, student. Not gay, definitely not gay (at least that’s what he says). Known as “The fuck-up” has to work every night of his god damn life to deliver pizza in an attempt to make enough money for him and Mikasa to get by on their own since their dad abandoned them. The shitty tiny apartment is what he calls his hell hole. He hates school, he hates work, he hates his life but he wants to make it better some day. One particular night, a customer calls a couple of minutes before the Pizzeria closes to place an order. Eren is pissed off, to say the least. Until that stranger opens the door of his house and grabs him by the shirt.
Having been on the streets with his sister from a young age, Eren is used to skirting around the law to get by. He’d long since discarded any childhood dreams of joining the Survey Corps; his focus now was to help provide for and protect Mikasa, her son, and the secret that could very well get them killed. He was doing just fine after joining a street gang, until of course fate decided to literally fling him straight into the line of sight of the one man with a reputation for hunting down criminals like himself; Captain Levi of the Survey Corps.
FBI Agent Eren Jaeger goes undercover into The Legion, a notorious group running drugs through the city of New Orleans, to avenge the death of his best friend and partner. How will his life change when he realizes that sometimes things aren’t always as black and white as they seem?
Eren is one of the few Alphas who go into rut without the presence of an Omega in heat nearby, and after suppressing it for nearly two years, the drugs are no longer working. As a last resort he heads to an Omega refuge, hoping to find a suitable, but temporary, mate. When he finds one lost in a fatal 'red heat’, he’ll do whatever it takes to ease his suffering.
When Levi’s fist sounded out against the wood, the Alpha did not open it right away. Leaned into it, pressing his forehead against the smooth surface. Felt the pull of the Omega on the other side, just as he had that first day in the shelter. A whole new kind of gravity that tugged him not down to the earth but straight towards Levi. The laws of the universe shifting to bring them closer together, and Eren could not resist their inevitability.
Levi had planned to spend his summer vacation before 5th grade reading and quietly doing chores outside at his uncle Kenny’s house. That is, until the boy with the most beautiful teal eyes Levi has ever seen moved in across the street and wanted to be his friend.
look……I’m just saying…..lovelace does pull ups at 2am and was…..a star basketball player…..and a captain in the air force……and is clearly buff af…..and I don’t see why she couldn’t have just…..punched jacobi and maxwell into submission when they had her and eiffel cornered…….just a thought…..just my onion……
Summary; AU- Sorcery it’s a farce. At least that’s what you thought before your little sister, Wanda, found an old magic book and decide to try a spell so his crush fell in love with her. To your atonishment and hers the spell works and now she has to face the drawback; she has sold her soul to a demon called Bucky in exchange the favor. Now, you are forced to intervene and reach an agreement with said demon.
Warnings: Language, violence, death, angels, demons and all kind of religious stuff. SORRY…
A/N; AAAAAAAAAAAAAnd I’m here again! Sorry for the unforgivable delay, when I’m sick i’m good for nothing :/
The first seconds after the scream neither you or Bucky move a muscle, too suprised to do anything, but soon the reality overcomes you. There is someone out there that wants to hurt you and that is hurting Nana right now, you must do something.
- Erase the line Y/N, hurry up! - Bucky rushes you
- Y-yeah! - frantically you search for something to break the thick line Nana has drawn in the floor and that keeps Bucky in to the circle. Shaking, you find a big rock in the ground and you rub it againts the concrete, trying to make the paint jump and break the seal.
It works. You sigh relieved when Bucky step out of the line, hesitant at first.
Covering yourself in a hurry you follow Bucky to the front door, your heart in a fist hearing the muffled battle sounds.
- Stay behind me no matter what happens out there, doll - Bucky whispers to you.
Steve is still human. He makes mistakes. Though you love each other so very, very much, you fear your time is running out.
Warnings: Language, angst, mentions of blood and injury
A/N: I’m sorry that this took so long. This series has been floating around in my head since before this blog even existed, so I really, really want to get it right. The song of the chapter is “Liar” by Mumford and Sons. Lyrics are in italics.
little episode made you both cocky. Steve left; you fought; you yelled, but at
the end of the day, he still came home. At the end of the day, you forgave him
and moved on. You loved each other, and that was enough. But it didn’t stay
I know that things are broken
that one mission opened the door for him. There was always one more mission,
one more bad guy, one more fight to be fought. It didn’t seem to matter when
Tony told him it wasn’t worth losing you over. Losing you didn’t seem like a
viable possibility anymore.
didn’t matter when Bucky gave him that look, told him they didn’t need a punk
like him around, that they could survive without him, that the same couldn’t be
said about his family.
didn’t matter when Sam looked him in the eye and told him to get his goddam
shit together and stay with his family where he was meant to be.
didn’t matter. Because it was just one more. It was just a little longer. Just
need to see this mission through. Just need to see this guy brought to justice.
summary: part 4 of this trash ass fic. also heavily based in the run mv
word count: 2.3k (specifics 2,328)
warnings/triggers: fighting, swearing etc…
No, no, no… please. It’s not true… It can’t be…
A frenzy of emotions took over you as you barged past the barricade of frozen bodies in the doorway, and stormed up the stairs. This isn’t happening. You pleaded to yourself as you thoughtlessly approached his door with what felt like a withering body. A mix of music and muffled moans filled the air and with every step, grew louder, almost ringing and echoing throughout your numb mind.
“fuck-Jungkook-yes.” Minah whined behind the wood, but it was Jungkook’s muffled grunts making your stomach twist, and your heart stop. You wanted to sink to the floor, you were visibly shaking.
This couldn’t be Jungkook. Not after last night. He confessed, he kissed you… he… he… He played you like a bitch.
Anger seethed through your bones; you grit your teeth marching to Jimin’s room, and grabbing his box of condoms from his dresser. Returning with no hesitation, you kicked open the door; greeted by Minah’s bare back making your stomach coil. Mustering all the fading strength you could, you launched the box against the wall above the busy bed, the condoms spilling out like rain onto them. Screams of them jumping apart and finding refuge under sex-ridden sheets, filled the hot and heavy air of the room.
You laughed cynically, and their shaken eyes landed on your shaking hysterical figure, you sounded as if someone should have you locked in a mental hospital, at this point you were so blind with anger, you weren’t thinking as rage clouded your mind and judgement,
“I DON’T THINK STD’s COUNTS AS BEING SICK! SO USE THOSE IF THAT’S YOUR FUCKING EXCUSE!” You seethed, finally reaching their blown out eyes. As your eyes landed on the boy you loved, you no longer saw red. This wasn’t you.
You turned, caught off guard by the rest of the boys who had now gathered at on the landing, mouths agape and eyes wide as to what they had just witnessed. They were all speechless.
You tilted your head up, to hold back the tears that were starting to blur your vision. All the anger had boiled away, leaving you a numb weak shell of a person.
“y/n…” hoseok spoke out of the silence.
“Thanks for tonight guys…really.” you barely got out, more sounding like a strangled choke than a coherent sentence.
Before any of them could respond, and before you knew it your legs broke out into a run, almost stumbling in your heels down the stairs. you just wanted to get far away from here as quick as you could.
“y/n wait!” Jimin called after you, making you break into a violent sob. As his footsteps broke into a run behind you, your heart beated faster with every step you heard, though your body was resisting; with your muscles becoming stiff, legs growing weak and feet stinging in painfully high heels, you forced yourself to run.
Jimin cried out your name, his distant voice echoing and ringing clear in the crisp air, as he chased after you in the street. But you couldn’t stop. You needed out of there.
Jimin breathlessly stopped losing you at a red light, watching your figure disappear into the dark busy cityscape.
Back at the dorm, Jungkook came rushing out of his room, stopping as his hyungs stood stoic and silent on the landing.
“Shit” he spat realising she had left. A tense silent atmosphere engulfed the landing and all eyes bore deep into the maknae.
“That was fucking low Jungkook.” Taehyung scoffed, before walking off to his room.
“It was her birthday.” Hoseok added, truly disgusted by the youngest’s actions and followed V but into his own room.
Yoongi and Seokjin vanished without a word; they didn’t have to even say anything, they didn’t want to. Disgust and disappointment was evident in their expression especially when they couldn’t look at him any longer; not only did he lie to y/n, he lied to them too.
“How could you do this?” Namjoon snapped. “Not only to us, but especially to y/n… I can’t believe you had it in you to do this.” He mumbled as he too, left Jungkook alone.
All Jungkook did was bite the inside of his cheek, he couldn’t do anything, he knew he was in the wrong here. he fucked up everything. he fucked up the party, he fucked up the trust with his brothers… and worst of all… he fucked up the chance he had with you.
You collapsed at the door of your apartment, falling against the wood. It hurt to breathe, with every sharp painful gasp of air, you choked at the shallow nature of your lungs. You couldn’t feel your legs, you reached down your throbbing stiff legs and finally slipped off your heels. You winced at the pain as cuts, bruises and blisters that met the cold air. But it didn’t hurt anyway near as much as the way Jungkook played you.
You broke into a violent sob on the floor, curling up into a ball. Your mind and your body ached, you didn’t even bother moving onto the sofa or your bed, or even turning the lights on. Instead you lay limp at your doorway, shuddering and sobbing in the silence and darkness.
Jimin huffed breathlessly, watching his pissed sighs and mutters condense and float in the cold night air. He coughed and sniffed from running against the harsh and painful cold to try catch you; but he couldn’t keep up. He knew you wouldn’t pick up but he aimlessly called and texted you.
i know you’re upset.
i know you don’t want to talk.
but please just text me or call so i know you made it home safe.
He wanted to throw his phone. A sudden rush of anger flooded Jimin’s senses. Jungkook broke your heart. Fuelled by this overwhelming feeling, Jimin broke off into a sprint for the house.
“I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!” Jungkook spat from the doorway, as Minah desperately tried to cling onto him. Jimin slowed, watching the unfolding scene in the dim lighting of the streetlamps.
“You didn’t say that when you were moaning under me.” She coyly teased, her lips scraping his neck and her slender arms snaking around his torso.
“GET OFF ME!” He grunted, struggling and breaking off her vice-like grip. “IT’S ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT.” Jungkook screamed, throwing her shoes out onto the drive and without thinking, pushed her backward.
Jimin’s instincts shot out like a gun, darting forward just in time to catch Minah from falling onto the brickwork of their drive.
“Are you okay?” he asked, catching his breath. Minah nodded, too in shock to form words. Jimin set her down, as Jungkook came racing.
“I’m sorry Minah I-”
“You’ve done enough.” Jimin growled, his muscles getting tense as he stared the younger one down.
“You lied to us. You fucked Minah. and worst of all… You broke y/n’s heart.”
Jimin grabbed Jungkook by the shoulders, violently throwing him back into the house, Jungkook stumbling backward as the back of his feet hit the doorway.
“What the fuck Jimin.” Jungkook hissed, blood boiling as he stood up.
“You’re not even worth a hit.” Jimin scoffed as he turned away.
Failing to tame the growing anger that heated in Jungkook stomach; he seized the elder by the shoulders, shoving him against the stairs “Shut the fuck up.” He spat, hooking a punch that landed roughly on Jimin’s stiff jaw.
Jimin grit his teeth, tasting the bitter metallic blood drawing from the corners of his mouth; Jimin took Jungkook by the throat, throwing him onto the living room floor. A cry fell from Jungkook’s lips as his ribs hit against the edge of the sofa; wincing in pain and dodging Jimin’s punch he stood up, an arm clutching his side whilst the other tried to land a hit on older boy. Jimin seized Jungkook’s wrist, as Jungkook’s incoming punch narrowly missed him. Jimin swung the youngest round; knocking over the coffee table and all that was on top, with a huge crash. Jungkook charged at Jimin, tackling him, causing them both to stumble over the flipped table, into a heap on the floor of frantic hits and punches. The pair, breathlessly fought, anger and adrenaline racing through their systems. Both blind with anger.
Minah had ran upstairs as soon as the fight broke out, too scared to break them apart on their own. They all ignored her helpless cries, thinking it was just ‘Minah seeking attention again’ but the members all sprung out of their rooms upon hearing the commotion of loud bangs, agonising screams and furniture crashing. They boys met with Minah on the landing, their movements quick as they followed her down the stairs,
“What the fuck is going on?” Namjoon questioned, as they ran down the stairs. The noises growing louder as they headed and burst through the living room door. All eyes landed on the pair wrestling on the floor, Taehyung and Seokjin quickly reacted seizing the pair away from each other, struggling to do so at Jungkook and Jimin scratched and grabbed onto each other, refusing to back down.
“Stop it!” Hoseok ordered, as the rest of the group helped to separate them.
Jimin shoved off Seokjin and Namjoon, who were restraining him. He heaved heavily, catching his breath.
“I’m fine. I’m. Fine.” He reassured, as Jungkook scoffed at him. “I’m leaving.”
“To where?” Yoongi asked. Jimin looked Jungkook dead in the eye before replying:
Jimin ran up the stairs to your apartment.
“Y/N!” He called, banging his fist on your door, the sound echoing throughout the silent hallway.
You pathetically reached up -not even bothering to collect yourself off the floor- and turned the handle.
Jimin hurriedly pulled open the door, about to rush in when he spotted your hunched figure perched on the floor, surrounded by the darkness.
You pitifully hid behind your hair, avoiding any eye contact with him. You had no strength to move. No strength to respond. No strength to react.
He sank down to his knees, speechless… he had never seen you this broken. All for a boy that didn’t deserve you. He gently tucked the hair that fell in front of your face, behind your ears, revealing the face of the girl he fell for, albeit with puffy eyes, swollen cheeks and a reddened nose; he couldn’t stand to see you like this.
The fact you couldn’t look at him, drove you insane. You knew one comforting look and you would’ve burst into tears again. You knew Jimin, in the fact that he knows just what to do to make you happy when any time you were feeling terrible.
“y/n…” he whispered, barely audible, and from that one sound; the sound of your name in that comforting deep raspy voice of his, you couldn’t control the tears. Your hand flew to your face, as if you could hide yourself. He guided your hands to his back and cradled the back of your head, guiding it to the crook in his neck. You melted into his embrace, spilling your choked sobs into his hoodie and his arms provided you with warmth and his hands grazing the back of your head.
“I’m- s-so-sorry-J-Jimin.” You choked out between sobs.
“Shhh-shhh.” he hushed gruffly. “I don’t want to hear about any of that right now… for now, I just want you to be okay again.”
You didn’t deserve him,
“Let’s get you to bed…”, he carefully unravelled himself from you, switching on the lights, making you cower slightly. His eyes fell to the scattered heels, then your freshly scarred feet. “y/n…” he gasped, you didn’t have to look at him to know he was talking about all the new cuts, bruises and blisters, that adorned your skin.
He bent down, hooking his arm behind your knees and his other arm around your back, lifting you and carrying you to your bathroom. He set you down on the edge of your bathtub, you flinched as your feet came into contact with the cold porcelain. He ran the water, rolling up the ends of your skinny jeans, you hissed as water pooled around the fresh cuts on your skin. He reached down, gently washing all the blood away, it was then when you finally looked at him. He had bruises and cuts on him too… your eyes widened to a cut dangerously close to his eye, without thinking, you reached out to touch it. He winced as your fingertips brushed against it.
“What happened…” you rasped, finding your voice again, but he just guided your arm away.
“Not a priority right now…” he whispered, getting back to cleansing your feet.
You reached your hand down to the water, taking it and swiping your thumb across the graze on his cheek, mirroring what he was doing with you.
The edges of his mouth raised slightly, as did yours, but he cleared his throat, got up and returned with towels. He switched the tap off, taking your feet into the towel and lightly blotted them dry, before carrying you to your room.
He set you down on the edge of the bed, grabbing a long t-shirt from your closet and slipping it over you. You undid your bralette under your shirt, and left him to innocently remove your skinny jeans.
He turned off the lights and tucked you into your sheets,
“I guess i’ll- er -you’ll be okay right.. y/n?”
“Stay.” you whispered. You felt his slight hesitation, and so you begged “Please.”
He slowly slipped himself next to you, under the sheets. You buried your head in his chest, and his arms instinctively held you close. You took comfort in his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was in that moment, you knew it. It was in that moment you had to say something…
“I love you.”
a/n: i was listening to run throughout writing this and now i have orange jimin feels fml.
“Malfoy is such a git,” Ron growled through gritted teeth
during lunch in the Great Hall. “I mean, did you hear him going on and on about
his father’s stupid promotion? He might as well have become Minister of Magic
with the way that git brags about it.”
“Ron, don’t even joke about that,” said Hermione.
“Yeah, can you imagine if Mr. Malfoy actually became
Minister?” Harry remarked darkly. “You might as well give the position to
“Don’t say that
name!” Ron hissed.
“Ron, it’s not like the name is going to hurt you,” Harry
“Yeah, but still,” Ron grumbled as he stabbed his
Yorkshire pudding. He then glanced in your direction. You were sitting beside
them, quietly poking your apple pie while resting your chin in your hand. “Oy,
“Huh?” You jerked slightly and turned to your friends.
“Are you all right, (y/n)?” Hermione asked with concern.
She studied you from across the table. “You’re usually never this quiet.”
So Sam never responded to WCC's request for a fist bump photo. Hmm. Doesn't sound like something Sam would do, does it? Maybe he thought TWO photos of his fist would be overkill.
Exactly, anon. He’s taken part in their other campaigns, so there is no reason that he would not also give them a first bump too. And since he and Cait planned his “when I was young” pic to have the special status of closing out the campaign I see his lack of response so far, along with the evidence provided by those telltale scars on the hand in Cait’s pic, as good reason to believe that he was the partner that Cait chose to make her “better together” statement with at the kickoff of the campaign. As their celebrity patron she will start the campaign and there is a special status for whoever she picks as her partner in that first bump since the campaign is about “better together”. She is going to choose someone who matters to her and that scarred fist is pretty recognizable as Sam’s, and the pic was taken late at night, and in a bed, so that her “better together” partner seems to be a different sort of partner than a friend would be. Thats “better together” in this bed, and in this relationship as a couple, and “better together” working together on this charity campaign- also as a couple.. That’s a big statement for both of them to make, and little wonder that no faces were shown. So while we might later get a more “official” pic of Sam in a fist bump with some friend or other, or perhaps even with Cait as they work on set together as the colleagues that they also are, I think his silence right now is good proof that he has already contributed and that he knows that everyone who is paying attention already knows it. His first bump pic, like his relationship with Cait, is hiding in plain sight. “Better together”. Late at night. In a bed. Easily recognizable scars plain to see in the photo. Who else could he or Cait possibly think we would think it could be but Sam?
Another writing question: What would make Ward interested in an art student with menial jobs? I keep thinking it's someone to talk to without knowledge of his past. Maybe even someone with normal problems to take his mind off of his own. (Also in my fic he's going through rehabilitation with a sober companion and my OC doesn't even drink, maybe some extra info for your thoughts). Also she asks him out. Thanks.
Sounds like you have a pretty solid idea down already! I bet talking to someone new and non-threatening would be refreshing and therapeutic for him. I don’t think it would matter to him if they had a menial job - he would be interested in their personality and outlook on life, rather than what they did for a living.
I love the idea of Ward needing some guidance and support after season 1 in order to not slip back into bad habits (namely drugs and alcohol). He’s a bit self-destructive by nature, and will probably need someone there for him. Someone to keep him focused on getting better, but also to be there when he needs a little distraction from inside his own head. ;) Hope that helps!
[Title] Raspberry Kisses [Genre] Smut [Member] Seokmin [Request] “Could I request a smut with DK where you guys are just hanging out in your room, kissing a little and things get heated? 😅🙈” - Anon [Word Count] 3,320 [A/N] Since the Anon didn’t specify on the heated things, I just thought, hey why not mutual masturbation? It’s so long, omf, sorry guys haha. Hope you guys enjoy nonetheless ;)
You were never good at making decisions.
Ever since you were young, every option and every choice you deemed had been through countless amounts of strain. Even the tiny, unimportant things made your head spin into an uncontrollable blur. Your indecisiveness captured away precious time and shook you with bottled-up frustration. Impatience and despair always boiled in the pits of your stomach. It seemed like the end of you.
And it didn’t quite help that Seokmin refused to speak.
He loved to tease and draw your desperation out a tad longer without throwing in a needed opinion. And you hated how even though he did so, he’d still get the nerve to wrap you in his arms, where everything would melt away— even you.
It hadn’t been long since the sun began to make its way down the horizon, and it hadn’t been long since you began to feel it. Streaks of vivid oranges and pinks painted the sky, and it’s lights seeped through the thin curtains of your window. The golden rays washed over two sprawled figures; where you lay at the foot of your bed and your boyfriend leaned back against the headboard.
The depths of your core twisted in an jaw-clenching manner, and you felt the temptation to cry aloud deep in your throat as you said for what seemed like the hundredth time: