best way to get over one girl is to get under another

Beginner Witch Tips

WARNING: I am a sarcastic butthole and it shows through out this hot mess of a post. This is some random craft junk I have learned in my days of practicing witchcraft

Witch craft is not magic.

I don’t care what you have heard. Witchcraft is not magic. It can not turn your eyes different colors. It can not make you into a animal. You will not be able to control the weather or summon wind with your fingers. Ghosts will not do as you say. This is not Harry Potter. Case closed

Intent over tools

Do you think it’s gonna matter if you use a butter knife as an athame? Or you have to sub a white candle for another color because you don’t have the funds to buy that color? Or you had to leave out an ingredient because you don’t have it or you’re allergic? No, it’s not. Witchcraft (to me) is about mind over matter. If you are making an effort for your God/god/goddess/deity/elf/fae/etc it isn’t gonna matter what or how you got there, but the intent you had getting there

Cursing and hexing is up to you and your beliefs

Totally up to you if you believe that this is okay or not. However, if you don’t like this, do not go and tell someone else it’s wrong. If they ask you how you feel you can tell them it’s not your thing. If you do like this, do not go and tell someone else it’s fine and try to get them to accept it. If they ask you about it, you can tell them that you are into it

You do not have to have an alter

It’s up to you and your practice. And if you can where you are etc. If you want one and can not have one, draw one or, my favorite, Set up a pinterest board for your god/goddess/fae/elf/deity etc. and save things that you thing relate to them.

It’s not about fancy stuff

This goes back to intent over tools, as long as you are comfortable with what you are doing and using, do it and use it. I use salsa and yogurt containers, coffee filters taped together, M&M tubes, and envelopes to keep crap in. I use a 99¢ Wal-Mart bandanna to do spells on that I got from Girl Scout camp and it has rainbow peace signs all over it. Do I care? Nope. Does anyone else care or will they judge you? Nope. we are all in the same boat here.

Hand making things is way too underrated  

I LOVE hand making things. Whether you are good or bad at it, it is a good way to save money, and personalize it just for you. Example: I made tarot cards out of printer paper that I cut out and wrote the card name, and definition of what it means (to me) and I love them. Pencil wand? Yas queen. DIY cauldron out of play-dough? Frick me u p daddy.

DONT EAT/SMOKE/DRINK SOMETHING YOU HAVE NO CLUE ABOUT

You’d think I would have to include this bUT
Some things are okay to consume. Sometimes if taking a certain medicine you can’t consume that. Sometimes you are allergic to one thing, and in turn you will be allergic to that thing too. Sometimes you are pregnant and it’S HIGHLY DANGEROUS TO CONSUME THINGS WITHOUT KNOWING WHAT IT DOES

Never ignore professional medical advice and help in favor of witchcraft methods.

Case c l o s e d

Spirit workers

Not nice spirits can attach to people who have depression and anxiety more so than people who don’t

There are good and bad spirits. if one makes you feel comfomy, do not feel bad for asking it to leave/getting rid of it

Don’t ask your tarot cards every time you have a question

This happens a lot. Especially when you get a new deck and it’s so new and shiny and you can’t w a i t to get your grubby little hands on it and do crap >:D but you don’t want to get into the habbit of “ohgoshgollybatman I have to go to the store, okay let’s see if I’ll get hit by a car… oh and do I really need the applejuice..”  or “do I REALLY need this plant..” bc the answer to that is always yes duh

Divination is not for predicting the future

Now stay with me, it is for guiding you in the future. It can not tell you what day you are going to die, who you are going to marry, etc 

The future is not written in stone

Let’s sayyyyy you do a simple past, present, and future reading with tarot, and you get a bad reading for the future, it doesn’t matter. That is how it is going right now, now you can see what you need to change etc 

You dont need a fancy journal for a grimore or book of shawdows

Heckadoodle I use a binder and notebook paper so I can move stuff around. I just write with a pencil and pen, and color with dollar store crayons or collered pencils. 
Now, you may be thinking, “Oh but, it’s a nice binder right?” Lemme stop you right there. It is falling apart, needs to be ducktaped, has a picture of my doggo inside and I’ve used it for school for abouutt.. 7 years?
Summin’ it up: It don’t gotta be fancy

If you forget to blow out candles set a timer on your phone

I do this all the freaking time and I’ll leave a candle out, and then here comes mother. Closet underage witches know the struggle. Trying to explain why you have a burning candle left in your room. Or if you are adult and have to adult after a spell or whatever and leave the house and come back to the candle just sittin’ there. Burning away. (my mom did this once and it caught her table on fire)
Timer. Yep.

You don’t have to know a certain language 

This is more focused to me bc i am nerd but okie dokie
I know Latin from school, therefore I mix it into my spells (like some on @witchy-recipes-and-things) and provide a translation. I don’t want anyone to think you have to have a certain language for your craft.

How to Ouija

Tbh this is too long already so if you want another post on it tell me and I’ll make one and link it

Sigils can be drawn everywhere

In your phone case, in your wallet, in a shoe, under fingernail polish, under seats, wherever whatever-I can also elaborate more on this

TAROT IS PRONOUNCED “TARO”

CONSENT IS KEY

When doing love spells, consent from the other person is a must. 

You can be a christian, athiest, pagan, whatever, and still do witchcraft

It is about the craft, not religion 

Witchcraft is not a religion, Wicca is

And you do not have to be Wiccan to partake in Witchcraft

Sage doesn’t have to be in cone shape to burn it

I put rubbed sage meant for cooking on a metal plate and torch the sucker Shane Dawson style but with one of the long lighters, then run around my house in my underware screaming “MAY THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPEL YOU BITCH” in Latin

When cleansing 

OPEN.THE.WINDOWS.WHEN.DEALING.WITH.SMOKE
Trust your witch mother who is allergic to everything and is an asthmatic, open the windows and doors.
Also, as the smoke leaves you room through the windows or whatever, the spirits/bad vibes/etc leave with it

You don’t have to believe everything you read

Witchcraft is how YOU feel about things. No matter how other people feel about things

You can have your own corresponces for things

Like I think cinnamon is hot, deals with the sun, direction south, used for healing love etc., but it can be totally different for you

Divination doers do not have to be witches and witches do not have to be divination doers

S T U D Y

Can not stress this enough. This is the best thing to do even if you can not practice your craft where you are atm. knowledge is power.

So here is a list I’ve complied :D (yes I’ve made all of these, I was too bored to ask people’s permission to add things, sue me) (All of the spells are all religion inclusive)

Learn you star sign with detail
Edible Flower List
Witch Tools
Tarot Meanings Cheat Sheet

Good First Spell-Calming Tea Spell
DIY Charcoal Pencil
Get Shit Done Bottle
Spell to Sleep
Sea in a Bottle
Protection and Calm Bottle
Find a Item You Lot

Referring to “When cleansing”, Line two, words 3-4, I am now your witch mother and if you ever have any questions feel free to ask! This list was requested from a witchling and if you have any requests feel free to ask :3

look at me - i will never pass for a perfect bride

so i know i already made a retold mulan post but i just LOVE MULAN SO MUCH so here’s another

in the original myth mulan isn’t really a clumsy fish out of water. she’s strong and smart and the reason she goes to war is because she’s the most qualified person in her family to fight, regardless of gender.

so how about this: mulan’s a fighter. she knows exactly who she is, like in the original myth, she’s knows how to be the blossoming flower and the great stone dragon. she’s still mulan though, so she still doesn’t memorize the silly ways she’s supposed to be a good wife and has little patience for appearing graceful while pouring tea. she’s innovative and courageous and beautiful, but no one is under any illusions about what kind of wife she’ll be.

and the matchmaker is the matchmaker for the li family as well, for this great big part of china. and general li wants his son to be married before he goes off to war, wants his son to have a reason to fight to live, like a wife waiting for him. and the matchmaker reads the stars and the tea leaves and the astrology charts, and no matter what all the signs point to one thing: the honorable li shang is destined to marry the insolent, arrogant fa mulan.

the matchmaker isn’t going to let that happen, she refuses to be responsible for that disaster of a wedding. so she sends her most beautiful girls, the ones that are obedient and quiet and know their roles, the ones that are eager to marry into the li family.

and each of them are entertained and met and sent back. shang is many things, but smooth isn’t one of them, he has nothing to say to these quiet girls who smile at him, feels large and awkward around their polite smiles. so he and his father go to the matchmaker’s village, shang reluctantly and his father to demand she stops messing with them and provides a proper bride.

it’s on the day that mulan and the other girls are parading in the street. shang sees a girl - mulan - hurry into the end of the line, jumping over a bench and darting around a careening wagon to get there, and stifles a laugh.

then there’s no reason to laugh at all, because a group of huns have decided that this village is in their way, and attack.

everyone scatters, women hide, children hide, and most of the men do too. shang and his father join the fight with some of the other men who hadn’t hid, and these men are starved, clearly not with shan yu, so even though they’re outnumbered they’ll likely win.

shang sees a hun go to attack the girl he’d seen earlier, the girl for whatever reason hadn’t run and hid. the hun raises a sword above his head to strike her down, and shang is so sure he’s about to see this pretty girl lose her head.

but she doesn’t. instead she rolls out of the way, and pops up, headbutting him in the stomach. she takes his sword from his now-slack grip and plunges it into his chest. without hesitation or pause the girl joins the fight, swinging the sword expertly and cutting down every man who stands against her. soon they’re fighting back to back, and shang has never felt more in sync with another person. she cuts off the head of the last hun, and shang has never seen anyone more beautiful than this girl, dress ripped and make up smudged and covered in blood that isn’t hers.

“mulan,” one of the other girls says, peaking out of a store front, “is it over?”

the girl, mulan, looks out over the dozen dead men and says, grimly, “it’s barely begun.” she searches the crowd, finding and old man and yelling, “gather the bodies, we’ll burn that at dusk outside of the village. everyone else,” her eyes sweep across the gathered people, and shang is struck by the fact that this girl isn’t well liked. there’s anger and disapproval in many of the faces, but they’re listening. these people don’t like her. but they do trust her. “let’s clean this all up. these were bandits, not soldiers. there’s nothing more to fear.”

“what if there are more?” the other girl asks, arms wrapped around herself.

mulan raises her stolen sword and says, “then i will slice them to ribbons. this is our village, and this is our country. any who would try to take it from us - from me - will suffer the consequences.”

and it shouldn’t be comforting, hearing words of violence from this young girl, yet everyone around them relaxes, and gets moving, gather the bodies and tending the wounded.

“who are you?” his father asks, and someone who doesn’t know him might think he was angry, but shang can tell he’s impressed.

mulan turns to them and bows, “my apologies. i am fa mulan, daughter of fa zhou. thank you for helping us.” she stands, and shang meets her eyes for the first time.

he swallows, and blurts out, “you - you fight good.”

his father coughs to hide his laughter, but mulan’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “thank you. you do as well.”

and they just keep standing there smiling at each other until his father claps his hands and is like okay - they’ll have to report this to the emperor, no time to dawdle, have to go now.

so they take their leave, and shang thinks this is the last time he’ll see fa mulan.

except there’s still the draft, and this time mulan doesn’t take no for an answer, won’t hear of it. her father is injured and old and she is young and fit to fight. she will go in his place.

so she arrives at the camp, prepared to pretend and lie - except she goes to meet her commanding officer and it’s him, that boy who had fought with her. shang’s eyes widen, but they’re in front of too many people. he can see it on her face, her fear, and she hadn’t shown any fear when she was facing down over a dozen huns, but she does now. so he makes his choice and says nothing, pretends he buys her story.

she tracks him down that night and demands an explanation. he says this war is too important to kill good warriors, whatever gender they are. he swears to keep her secret. mulan is his best soldier from the beginning, and means to treat her like anyone else, but it’s impossible. she isn’t like anyone else, is strong and smarter and braver than them. they argue tactics, and she’s the only one who can give him a workout in hand to hand, and he doesn’t have trouble finding his words with her. he finds himself falling in love with her, but doesn’t say anything. she’s not here for love, she’s here for a war. he vows to say something if they survive this, but it’s unlikely that will happen.

they head to the front earlier. they get there in time to provide back up for his father and his army, and it’s a loss but not a slaughter. his father is too distracted to notice ping is the girl from the village. all he knows is this soldier had led the second wave of attacks, and it was thanks to her any of them were alive at all. they prevent half of the huns from getting through the pass, but that’s still an army heading for the imperial city. the general is injured, so mulan and shang lead the army after him.

they find him at the mountain, and just like before mulan uses the cannon to destroy the army. she knew it would spell their death, but it was worth it, for her people, for her country, for her family. this time it’s shang that won’t accept her death, that tries to drag her unconscious body to safety. only he fails, and mulan becomes buried under the snow.

they return to the city, and shang is besides himself - the woman he loves is dead, she saved them all and she’s gone, and he’ll never recover from this. only he can’t tell his father this, their friends. they think he mourns a friend, not the woman he wanted to make his wife.

except mulan survives, and sees the other huns as well. only she kills them there before they can get to the city, and decides this is for the best. fa ping dies honorably in battle, and fa mulan is free to return home to her family.

so general li decides that it’s time to go to that matchmaker again, and demand she stop playing games. the matchmaker confesses that she thought the bride was unsuitable, and the general demands she send her anyway.

so mulan has barely had the chance to settle back home when the matchmaker shows up at her door saying she’s sending her to see a potential husband, but not who. so mulan shows up all made up to li household and shang drags himself into the room, already resigned to a loveless marriage, when they see each other. “mulan?” he demands, and his father is all pleased because it’s the fighting girl from the village.

but then his son starts crying and they run to each other. shang picks her up in his arms and she clings to him, and shang is babbling about how he thought she was dead, and mulan is so overjoyed that she’s with shang, and shang wants her, that she kisses him without explaining.

except now shang’s father demands an explanation. so they give it to him, the whole story comes tumbling out, and he stares hard at her, and remembers her as ping, the brave soldier that had saved them all. he’s not upset - he ecstatic. he goes to the emperor and tells him everything, and the emperor officially offers mulan an officer position in the army. she accepts, as long as shang is by her side. shang seconds this, and they set in motion the plans for the wedding.

fa mulan and li shang get married and lead armies and live happily ever after, just like the stars intended.


read more of my retold fairytales here

Thrive // h.h

A/N: wow I went overboard with this and it’s really all over the place so if you’re confused feel free to message me so I can make things clearer. 

This is my first imagine for Harry Hook so I don’t really have his character down yet, also I really hate the ending but I didn’t want it to go on forever so I needed to finish it up.

Being the fifth wheel in a group of some of the most infamous VK’s has never been Y/N’s ideal life, but when approached by the four most feared kids on an island, one does not simply say no.

She hangs around as almost a form of protection, the stigma of the four keeping others away from her. Almost like a security blanket, she can count on having a place in the corner of Mal’s apartment, even if she only stood in the shadows.

Then one day that protection vanishes, the core four summoned to Auradon on Prince Ben’s orders, leaving her behind with nothing.

Two months later she makes her way down an alley way, tugging down the sleeves on her jacket as she nears Ursula’s Chip Shop.

Practically the entire restaurant freezes as she enters, drawing the attention of two teens in particular.

“Well well well,” the teal haired girl sing-songs, dropping a tray onto a table as she walks by, “what do we have here?”

She walks up to the girl, eyebrows raised.

“Tell me Harry,” Uma asks, circling around the her, “are we taking in strays?”

“Hm, I dunno,” the boy replies, smirk on his face, “she’s cute though, maybe we should keep her. I could use another play thing.”

“I just came for food,” Y/N replies, crossing her arms over her chest, “not to join some kiddy pirate crew.”

Uma place a hand on Harry’s chest before he can rush forward, her eyebrows raised slightly.

“Impressive,” she mutters, nodding, “take a seat, I’ll have a server sent your way.”

The girl sits down on a stool, all to aware of the boy who now occupies the seat next to her.

“It’s a shame darlin’,” he drawls, leaning his chin on his hand, “we could’ve had lots of fun together.”

“Never thought you’d want anything to do with me,” she replies, raising an eyebrow, “last I checked I was part of Mal’s crew, not Uma’s.”

“And last time I checked,” Harry smirked, “your little crew are now frolicking around the fields of Auradon, and you’re still here. No crew, no friends, no nothing.”

The girl clenches her fist under the table, swallowing back her words.

“Your point?” She asks.

The pirate smirks, twirling his hook around in his hand.

“Just plotting love,” he says, standing up, “I’ll see you ‘round.”

That is the first of many encounters with the infamous pirate teen, it seems as if every time she turns a corner he’s there, a smirk on his face, the hook in his hand and a backhanded complement dripping off his lips.

Four months after Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos left for Auradon she’s walking through the Isle, hands shoved in her pockets.

“Hello there love,” he says from behind her, a half smile appearing on her face, “fancy seeing you here.”

“Is it?” She asks, keeping her stride as Harry falls into step next to her. “Don’t you know where I am at all times? Isn’t that the job of a stalker?”

“I’m offended you would even think I would stoop to that level,” he says, placing a hand on his heart in fake shock.

“What do you want Hook?” She questions, leaning against the brick wall.

“I’ve got a proposition for you,” he replies.

“Do you now?” She smirks. “And is this your proposition or Uma’s?”

“Both,” Harry answers, twirling his necklace around in his fingers, “come to the chip shop tonight, two a.m. We want to talk.”

With that, the pirate turns on his heel and walks down the alley.

“And if I don’t?” She calls.

“You will.”

And she does, at two a.m. on the dot she shoves her way into the shop, one hand on her hip.

“She’s a prompt one,” Uma says from the back.

“Mother always taught me to be on time,” she says sarcastically, making her way towards her.

“Mother’s always give the best advice,” Uma replies, gesturing for the girl to sit down.

“So what is this,” Y/N asks, “I’ve already told you that I don’t have any info on Mal and her friends, haven’t heard from any of them since they left.”

“Nah it ain’t about that,” Uma shakes her head, leaning on her elbows on the counter, “I want…well, we want you to join our crew. Not an entry level type thing, I want you up with us, with me and Harry and Gil. I wanna add a fourth to our ranks.”

“Why me?” She questions, leaning forward. “You could get anyone on this island, especially since Mal left, so why me?”

“Power,” Uma shrugs, “simple as that. You were on Mal’s crew, you’ve got status here. You need a crew and I need a fourth member, figured we could help each other out.”

“You’d be willing to work with me?” Y/N questions, noticing Harry lurking in the background. “And your crew would too?”

“They don’t have a choice,” Uma replies, “but yes, I am willing.”

“And you?” Y/N throws her question at Harry, keeping her eyes trained on Uma.

She sees Harry smirk from the corner of her eye.

“Welcome aboard princess.”

A few days later Y/N joins the pirate crew aboard their ship, arms crossed over her chest.

“I’ll teach you the ropes,” Harry says, “literally and figuratively. You’ll pick it up in no time.”

The two teens spend practically every minute of every day together for the next few weeks, becoming incredibly close incredibly fast.

“We’ve been working hard all day love,” Harry says, leaning against the mast as the girl turns to look at him, “let’s go on a walk.”

“You sure Uma is okay with that?” She asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“Uma doesn’t control every single thing I do,” he rolls his eyes, “c'mon, lets have a rest.”

“Walk me down the beach?” She suggests, holding her hand out to him.

Harry takes it gladly.

“After you princess.”

The two teens walk down the sand, hands still intertwined.

“So I know that ‘dating’ isn’t really a thing here,” she starts, “but you and Uma…is that a thing or?”

“Me and Uma?” The pirate laughs. “Nah, we’re just mates, the best of friends I would say. We’ve been friends since we were toddlers. Why?”

“Just curious,” she shrugs, staring at the shore line.

“I would call dating a thing here though,” Harry says, “it maybe be different than what they have there at Boradon,” Y/N laughs at his nickname for the mainland, “but it’s still a thing. We may be villains, but we’re allowed to fall in love, to get as close to a happy ending as possible.”

“You think we deserve that?” Y/N asks. “Cause I think the people over there think we deserve to pay for the sins of our parents.”

“Doesn’t matter what they think,” Harry replies, “they don’t know what life’s like over here, they don’t get a say in what we deserve.”

“I like that,” she smiles.

“I like you,” Harry says, biting down slightly on his lip as he looks at her.

“Yeah?” She asks, a half smile on her face as the boy nods. “I like you too.”

Harry’s smirk widens, his hand squeezing hers as they continue to walk down the beach.

“We should head back soon,” Y/N says quietly, “I promised Uma I’d cover a shift at the shop tonight.”

“Kiss me first,” Harry says, turning her around so they’re face to face instead of next to each other, “then we’ll go back.”

She does as he asks, smiling as she presses her lips to his. She feels his hand cup her cheek, the slight sea breeze blowing through her hair.

“More of that later?” She questions, causing Harry to smirk again.

“Much more of that later, love,” he says, taking his hat off of his head and placing it on hers, “much more.”

Six months after Mal left the Isle, she came back. Y/N sits in Ursula’s shop, she felt Mal’s presence before Harry even told her.

“She’s back isn’t she,” the girl asks as her boyfriend plops into the seat next to her, “I can feel it.”

“Yeah, she is,” Harry replies, “saw her at Tremaine’s salon, how are you doing?”

“I guess ’m okay,” she shrugs, “but that girl essentially left me for dead, right now all I want to do is see the look on her face when she realizes I thrived while she was gone, that I don’t need her or her posse to run this town.”

“You’re so hot when you’re revengeful,” Harry growls, surging forward and practically smashing their lips together in a heated mess.

“Oh get a room you two,” Uma says a few minutes later, practically throwing a tray down on the bar for Gil.

Harry pulls away from her, only to press another short, bruising kiss to her lips.

“I’ve got a plan,” Uma says, leaning against the counter, “you ready for this?”

Her question is pointed at Y/N, the girl smirks.

“I’m ready for anything.”

Much to Y/N’s surprise, Mal actually shows up to the shop. Uma practically growls, walking up to the purple haired girl as Harry slides an arm around Y/N’s shoulders.

“How ya doin’?” He whispers, lips ghosting over her ear as he kisses the skin gently.

“She may have changed her look, but she hasn’t changed her attitude,” the girl says, “she hated being bad, deep down she always wanted to be like the kids in Auradon, no amount of hair dye and leather can change that.”

As Mal and Uma talk, the purple haired girl’s eyes shift around the shop, landing on the couple near the back.

Y/N presses kisses to Harry’s jaw line, taking the tri-horned hat off of his head and placing it on hers, a smirk playing on her lips as she sees Mal turn her gaze back to Uma.

“And what exactly did that accomplish?” Harry questions playfully.

“Maybe nothing, probably nothing,” Y/N shrugs, smiling up at him, “but it was fun.”

“You’re evil,” Harry mumbles.

“You love it.”

“Hmm,” he hums, grin on his face, “that I do.”

“Walk me home?” She asks, intertwining their fingers.

“After you,” Harry replies, opening the back door for them to leave.

The couple makes their way down the alley, Harry’s arm around her shoulders and their fingers intertwined.

“No no I’m serious,” Y/N says with a light laugh, “she froze the entire kingdom and then turned her own sister to ice.”

“Sounds like she belongs over here,” Harry replies, “not in Auradon.”

“Must be because she’s of royal blood,” the girl shrugs, “but who knows.”

The conversation comes to a halt when Y/N’s eyes land on her used-to-be friends standing in the alley way.

“Y/N?” Evie questions with surprise. “You’re still here?”

“Where else would I be?” Y/N shoots back harshly, Harry squeezing her hand gently.

“What’s going on here?” Jay asks, hopping down from his perch above the alley.

“Just trying to get home,” Y/N replies, “what are you all doing here?”

“Getting Ben,” Carlos answers, glaring at Harry, “no thanks to this clown.”

Y/N places a hand on Harry’s chest, holding him back.

“Just leave it,” she whispers, shaking her head, “they’re not worth it.”

“You’ve changed,” Jay says, crossing his arms, “last thing I remember you wouldn’t go near Uma or her crew.”

“Yeah well,” she shrugs, looking up at Harry, “I had to survive somehow, the only friends I had deserted me. And things just…happened.”

Harry kisses her forehead, Carlos’s jaw practically hitting the floor.

“Well that’s…” he searches for words, eye darting around the alley, “new.”

“Time to go?” Harry asks in a whisper, the girl nodding in agreement.

“Good luck getting your friend back,” she says, “you’re gonna need it.”

The two of them swagger off, Harry spinning the hook around in his hand.

“You’ve gained more confidence since they left,” he says, “it’s hot. I’m proud of you.”

“All thanks to you,” she replies, “when I was friends with them I felt…weak. Like I was a charity case or something, but when I’m with you and Uma and Gil I feel…powerful. I feel like I matter.”

“You do matter,” Harry replies, “and we’re gonna rule Auradon together. And no one is going to ever make you feel like you don’t matter again.”

“Promise?” She questions, smile on her face as she cups his cheeks.

“Promise,” he smiles, kissing her hard, “we’re gonna rule the world princess.”

“We ride with the tide.”

The Dress

Hey guys! This is an imagine about the reader doing her best to tease her friend, Tom, because she’s unsure of his feelings for her, in a really hot dress. I’m not even going to lie to you, this story is pure smut? The middle is soft and sweet, but everything else is ?porn? I hope you like it!

The Dress

She and Tom had been ambling through the various art exhibits at her city’s center since before ten A.M., and after they were invited to a lavish restaurant with a group of their friends, she insisted that she change her clothes. From a simple, floral sundress, she slipped into something a little more uncomfortable while Tom waited in her living room, doing his best to keep his integrity and not to sneak a peek. Truth be told, he thought that she looked beyond fine in her sundress. The back dipped low and he could tell that she didn’t have a bra on, plus the flowing fabric of the dress shifted around as she walked and Tom enjoyed flashes of her smooth legs. She looked sweet and innocent, and there was something absolutely perverse in Tom that just wanted to mess it up. Alas, they had chosen to take it slow, so take it slow he tried.

    As soon as they had met, Tom knew that she was the only girl for him, but as of then, she wanted to focus solely on her education. He understood, of course, seeing as her schooling was on the same level of importance as his acting, and he didn’t want to disturb her. He couldn’t bare to be without her once he had began to know her, so he settled for being her friend, but he was positive that it was slowly killing him.

    She was the most kind-hearted person that he had ever come across, always doing what was needed to help others. Beyond that, he’s made the mistake of accompanying her on her trip across town to babysit her cousin’s children where he discovered that she was also the most nurturing soul out there. During their stay at her cousin’s home, he had watched as she simplified Philip Roth’s, ‘A Defender of the Faith,’ into terms so easily understood that four year olds could pick apart the intended theme. Beyond that, she answered all of their questions, even the ones that had him snorting under his breath, with complete respect and sincerity. It was right then that he could feel himself drifting into the haze love with her.

    He felt his heart warm towards her again when they went out for dessert and she took a bite of her sundae, eyes blissfully shut as her lips closed over the chilled spoon. As soon as her lashes fluttered open, she offered Tom the next bite. Ever since then, sharing had been their thing and it was hurling him into love with her.

    She wore his clothes, always giving them back smelling of her perfume. He borrowed her favorite books, films, and favorite places in the city to hide out and be alone. Time and time again, when he was in immediate need of a vehicle and couldn’t find one to rent fast enough, she had handed over her car keys without a second thought. Tom smiled as he waited for her to get dressed, fiddling with the ginormous copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories, a personal favorite of theirs to read.

In her room, she stood between two options. One dress was wholesome and cute, a typical outfit of hers, and the other was daring, sultry and, for lack of a better word, tiny. She hopelessly coveted Tom’s affection, but she was unsure of how to obtain it. Sure they had flirted from time to time, but she wanted to make him want her indefinitely, and if the dress would help her accomplish that, than so be it. He was all that was in her heart and all she wanted to do was to immerse him in love. Her best friend had encouraged her to purchase the dress for this very reason, and she refused to let something so pretty rot in the back of her closet. Slipping on some high heels and adding another coat of mascara, she exited her room.

“Are you ready, my love?” Tom called as he listened for the sound of heels clicking against her wood floors. He turned around and saw her before she could respond.

    She looked so lusciously risque that Tom couldn’t even form an eloquent thought in his brain. In the crest if the hallway, she stood in front of him wearing a dress so small and delicate that Tom was certainly convinced he could tear off her body using only his teeth, and sweet heavens, oh how he wanted to.

    “Holy mother of fucking hell,” Tom hissed through gritted teeth, “you’re going to fucking kill me, babydoll.”

    Truth be told, her dress had been located in the lingerie section of the store, but after sending photos of the dress to practically every contact in her phone, despite Tom, she decided it was approved nightwear. People wore less and got away with it all the time, she thought.

She was dressed in a soft, blush-toned, silk nightie that barely reached the top of her thighs. The straps were made of lace and the front dipped low so low that if she were to bend down to touch the floor, the dress would move to reveal her bellybutton. Her back was exposed, seeing as the nightie was backless and she’d made sure to get the next size up so it would be just baggy enough to show a little side-boob. The heels she wore were tall and nude, and they elongated her legs so well that they looked endless.

“Ready?” She chirped, making a show of swinging her hips as she walked past Tom, eager to unveil her dress’s scandalous lack of backing. She heard him mumble unintelligible curses once more.

“You, are you, wearing, you’re going to wear that out?” Tom asked as he locked the door, realizing that there was absolutely no way that he was going to make it through dinner with her when she was practically naked in front of him. He knew it was not his place, or anyone’s place, to dictate what she wore, but he was seriously concerned for his sanity at this point. He was either going to need to leave early or masturbate in the bathroom.

She cocked her head to the side to gaze up at him through her lower lashes, “yes, Tom,” she said, placing her hands on his chest, “why wouldn’t I? Don’t you like it?” She knew full well that she was laying it on thick, but she was determined to break him down.

He swallowed thickly. She was looking at him how he always imagined she’d look at him in bed. Her eyes were glossed over, she rolled her lower lip beneath her teeth, her chest moved rapidly up and down, she smelled like freshly picked daisies and Tom knew he was so beyond fucked. Was she doing this to him on purpose?

“I just don’t want you to be cold is all,” he stuttered out, which was true, but not his only unease about her napkin of a dress.

She’d thought this out as well. It had come to her understanding that Tom liked to see her in his clothes, so she smiled up at him, leaning even closer if humanly possibly and with her lips pressed an inch away from the base of his throat, uttered, “could I borrow your jacket? I don’t have one that’ll go with my outfit, but I really like yours.”

Tom coughed, “yeah, of course you can, sweet girl,” before removing his jean jacket and draping it across her shoulders, praying that she would at least button it up.

Curling her arms around Tom in a hug, she whispered words of thanks and left his coat perched gently atop her shoulder blades. She turned and began to make her way down the apartment complex’s hallway, not waiting for Tom to catch up.

“I’m going to die,” he mumbled before readjusting his jeans and hurrying after her.

On the walk there, she had teased him like no other, and Tom was becoming not only extremely hot, but very bothered.

First, she’d paused and asked him if he could check to see if her buckle on her heels was broken. She had rationed that she would do it herself, but her dress was too short. Once he’d knelt down, she’d shifted so that her leg was lifted almost over his shoulder and ruffled her hands through his hair, claiming that she needed to steady herself so she didn’t fall. She let out at airy groan as soon as his hand curled over her ankle to hold her still, brushing off his raised eyebrows as her just being sleepy. Tom had gotten a clear look at the white, lace panties she was wearing by accident, but he suspected she had done moved just so he would see.

Then, she had asked him if he could hold her phone for her, seeing as she had forgotten her bag. When Tom said that he could, she ignored his outstretched palm and slipped her phone directly into his jean pocket herself. Frankly, Tom was getting a little pissed off.

To make matters worse, when they rode up in the elevator together to reach the restaurant, they’d unluckily gotten stuck on the busiest ride. When he crowded into the corner, she had made sure to rub her bum against the bulge in his jeans the entire way up, apologizing when they got to their floor, telling him that she was just too close to the man in front of her. At this point, Tom knew better. He didn’t know what she was playing at, but he was going to demand to be informed as soon as they were alone.

He’d just have to make it through dinner.

    However, Tom couldn’t even make it through the appetizers before he demanded to speak with her alone. Their friends had taken notice to her attire immediately after she took off his coat because it was so different than what she normally wore and had teased the pair throughout the entirety of their time together.

    Everyone was well aware of their feelings for one another, and did their best to mush them together as often as possible. Due to their party being so large, she was practically sat on Tom’s lap and she offered him food straight from her fork, which wasn’t unusual for them, it just felt different tonight. There was nowhere Tom could put his hands without touching her bare skin and he’d just about lost his mind.

    Securing a firm hand around her waist, Tom yanked her back roughly against his chest, “we’re going out outside right now.” They were sat so close together that Tom could hear her heart beat faster.

    “Why?” She asked, her brow furrowing.

    Tom stood, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her away from their meal, “are you honestly asking me why?” He scoffed, grumbling out a half-assed lie about where and the reason that they needed to leave. Tom was all too prepared to endure the taunts from their friends, he didn’t care anymore.

    He led her through the sea of people, pushing past without a single ‘excuse me.’ Tom knew that he was being a dick but he didn’t have it in him to care. If she wanted to make it her mission to provoke him, as she clearly had, Tom was sure as hell going to let her know that she succeeded.

    As soon as they were far enough away from the crowd to not be overheard, he whipped around and exclaimed, “what the fuck is this about? Have I done something to you? Have you lost your mind?” Tom began to pace up and in front of her, “like I know you must realize what you’re doing to me?”

    All of her bashfulness returned. Teasing Tom all day had honestly worked her up too. He made her feel so wanted, and thoughts of him touching her and her touching him had wormed their way into her mind throughout their evening. She’d never thought that he would confront her about her actions, and now that he was, and he looked so good doing it, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

    “What do you mean?” She asked, focusing on the uneven sidewalk rather than to meet Tom’s gaze.

    Sighting a cramped corridor near behind a closed shop, Tom took ahold of her hand and dragged her into the corridor’s cover. Now, they wouldn’t be seen by anyone as long as they were quiet.

    He breathing hard and he knew he was pressed into her and she could feel his hardness poking against her leg. “Darling, don’t you dare play like that. I swear I’ll lose my mind,” he raked a hand through his hair, “well, more than I already have.”

    She gnawed on the inside of her cheek, knowing that as of right now, she could either be brave and possibly turn their friendship into something much larger, or she could apologize and have things stay the same. Harrison had mentioned that Tom had feelings for her right after they’d met, so she prayed that he still did.

    She fluttered her long eyelashes and stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. “Do you want me?” She asked, doing her best to make her voice as sultry as she could.

    Tom was hesitant to move from her touch. She smelled like freshly picked flowers, he could feel her breasts rise and fall with her intake of breath, and she was looking up at him through her lashes with parted lips and it was too much for him to handle. “What do you mean?”

    Her next sentence was almost impossible for her to choke out. She was losing her confidence, did he really not know what she meant or was he playing dumb to avoid hurting her feelings? “Do you wanna kiss me?” She averted her eyes before quickly adding, “it’s okay if you don’t.”

    “Sweetheart,” Tom started and she stumbled away from him, not even waiting to hear what he had to say.

    “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” She stuttered, ignoring his pleas for her to come back to him. She couldn’t believe that she had just spent the entire night humiliating herself.

    Tom jogged down the street after her, thanking the universe that the heels she wore were so high that she couldn’t really move too quickly without falling over. He curled a soft hand around her arm, pulling her back into his chest.

    “You didn’t stop and listen to me,” Tom chided, before wrapping another arm around her to keep her in place. “What I was going to ask you is where this is all coming from? You said you didn’t want anything other than friendship, and I don’t want this to be just a one night thing. You mean too much to me for that. I’m just confused is all.”

    “I wanna be with you, Tom, isn’t that obvious? I really like you, and I just thought that if you didn’t like me, maybe this would help?” Her eyes were tearing, her brain was melting and her hands shook. She couldn’t concentrate on anything but him.

    Tom let out a belly laugh, “what are you talking about? Of course I like you, I’ve been telling my mum for months that I love you! This is ridiculous, you didn’t need to do all this!” Tom exclaimed, his words not registering in his mind until a soft ‘oh’ fell from her lips.

    “Can, could, you, do you want to say that again?” She stammered, covering his lips tenderly with her own before Tom even had a chance to respond. Breaking away almost as soon as she started, she took his cheeks in her palms and whispered, “I love you.”

    Everything was happening so rapidly, and Tom firmly grasped her waist and pulled her in to kiss him. They made-out so furiously on the sidewalk that they got numerous honks and catcalls from passing cars and bikers alike.

    Tom groaned into her mouth when her body brushed up against the hardness constricted by his black jeans. “I love you and I wanted our first kiss to be romantic, but I swear to god darling, if we keep at this, I’m going to ruin these pants.”

    She kissed the corner of his mouth before taking his hand and pulling him behind the corridor Tom had found a few minutes before. As soon as the corridor’s pillars provided them coverage, she sank to her knees in front of Tom. “I’ve never done this before, so you’re going to have to teach me.”

    “No, no, I didn’t mean that you had to do this, not if you don’t want to,” Tom said, urging her to get up as the image of her on her knees for him made his jeans even tighter, if that was even possible anymore. He couldn’t imagine her doing it to him here, well he could, but he didn’t want her to feel obligated to suck him off before she was ready, especially seeing as this was her first time.

    “Tom,” she said, without budging, “I want to. I think about it all the time.”

    He cursed again, the thought of her getting off to thoughts of him was almost too much. Tom palmed himself through his jeans.

    “Just tell me how you want me,” She said, her voice sounding as Tom imagined silk would feel against his skin.

    “Fuck,” he mumbled, “you’re sure? If you wanna stop, just say so and I’ll be okay with it.” Tom bent down to kiss her, already planning to reciprocate back at her apartment. “I’m not going to last long because you’ve been prancing around nearly naked all night long.”

    A blush spread across her cheeks as she began to undo his jeans.

    Tom moaned as soon as she touched him, and he moaned even louder when the warmth of her mouth slid down his length. “Fucking hell, baby,” he rasped out, begining to instruct her on how to take him.

    After about ten minutes, he was done. He was struggling to still his hips and his hands had tangled themselves into her shiny locks, and Tom knew that he was going to finish. He swore that if she gagged again, he’d blow right there.

    “You’ve done so well, sweetheart,” Tom groaned, removing a hand from her hair to place it on the hollows of her cheek. “Let me finish it.”

    She didn’t halt her movements but Tom could tell that she was confused. At this point, she was taking him so deep that he could feel her fluttering lashes against his skin.

    “No, darling, I’m going to cum. If you don’t wanna swallow, you need to stop.” Tom advised, not having the willpower to move away from her heavenly mouth.

    On that note, she started bobbing her head even faster, and taking Tom so far back that he was almost positive he was going to hit the back of her throat. He cursed, unable to form a coherent sentence, all he could think of her how good she felt. A moment later, he came down her throat, and she sucked him off even through that.

    When she released him from the slickness of her mouth, the first thing Tom did was bend down to kiss her swollen lips. “I fucking love you,” he groaned breathlessly.

    Her eyes closed and she drifted into the warmth of his touch, “tell me again.” And Tom did, helping her to her feet and removing the jean jacket she’d given back to him at the restaurant. Tom helped her slide it on and buttoned it up almost all the way.

    He kissed her nose, “what do you want to do, my love?”

    She beamed shyly up at him, “can we go home and do it again?”

    Tom pressed an openmouthed kiss to her neck, “oh yeah, baby, you haven’t had your turn yet.”

   


one more time (m)

genre: fuckboy au + smut

words: 5.5k

member: jimin 

you can’t resist jimin, even if he is a fuckboy.

Originally posted by 9taefox


You woke up to the sound of your ringtone blaring into your ear. You huffed, screwing your eyes shut and hoping it would stop; it didn’t. Reaching out, you grabbed your phone and squinted at the bright screen, your eyes needing time to adjust.

Jimin.

You sighed through your nostrils, closing your eyes and ignoring the impending headache that you could already feel starting in your temples. You debated not answering, and the call ended. You nearly let a smile form on your lips, but your phone began to vibrate in your hand again, Jimin’s name popping up once again as the sound of your ringtone kept you from sleeping.

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Inexorable (2)

Plot: How does is feel to be arranged to be married to a cocky, arrogant Mafia leader? Once you look at his face, you think you’re lucky, but then he opens his mouth.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, (eventual) smut, Mafia au!

Notes: Welp, since so many of you asked for it, here is a part two!! There are two other stories which need a continuation as well, so I might keep requests closed for a while.. Sorry about that. I hope you don’t mind. Feel free to ask me questions, though! Ya’ll are so nice to me! 2,053 Words

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (FINAL)

The ride to the vacation home wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Your husband actually gave you the space you needed. There were brief glares exchanged between the two of you, a whole lot of drinking, and forced slumber – it was a 3 hour ride, after all. 

When the both of you had finally reached, the luggage was taken out by the bodyguards who had come along, and brought to your huge master bedroom. It was twice the size of your father’s office – if not, bigger – the bed was king-sized, and adorned with silk sheets. The walk-in wardrobe was already stacked with clothes for both sexes, making you wonder why you had even brought luggage in the first place.

“Too small, honestly,” Jungkook commented, plopping down on the couch by the fireplace. “My room is bigger than this.”

There he was, ruining the moment again. It was a good thing you were too exhausted to fight with him; but that didn’t mask over the fact that you still wanted to knock him out.

“Brat..” 

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my what a guy, gaston!

okay so i know i already did one of these for beauty and the beast (for fuck’s sake shana write about some new fairytales why are you like this) but i listened to sam tsui’s cover of a tale as old as time and OH BOY, OH MY HONEY OH MY DARLING

okay, so in the very early stages of the original beauty and the beast, gaston was an aristocrat. that eventually got scrapped, but oh what if it didn’t

so say gaston is the son of someone very high up in the royalty chain, someone who’s parents are important enough that he spends an awful lot of time at the castle? and our prince adam isn’t really down with this whole ~being a prince~ thing, he’s a brat, like so many other kids are brats (but these kids don’t get turned into beasts by random witches, like i’m sorry but i’ll never not think that beast didn’t get the short end of the stick there) and so he spends the least about of time possible parading about with a crown on his head. he likes going outside, like riding his horses and playing in the woods, and all sorts of other things that make his parents shake their heads and despair at the inability to have another child, because their son is a small disaster.

and here comes gaston, who’s older and more long suffering. gaston in naturally dramatic, okay, he likes being flashy and fun and loud, all the things the son of a noble shouldn’t be. so by the point he meets adam he’s listened to his parents, folded himself up nice and tight into this quiet boy who just doesn’t want any trouble. adam loves trouble. if he can’t find it, he invents it.

so he grabs onto gaston like glue, and gaston is irritated, but he’s the prince, he can’t say anything or his parents will kill him. so he lets adam keep dragging him out horseback riding and hunting and rock climbing and all sorts of things little noble boys aren’t supposed to do. they spare, and no matter that gaston is bigger and older he never wins, adam always ends up pinning him to the ground with his arm to his throat and he’d more irritated about it if the prince didn’t look so delighted every time he won. adam loves all the animals that he’s not interested in eating, and gaston tries to point out that it’s a little weird how thrilled adam is to take down a deer when two minute later he’s trying to entice a wolf to come closer so he can pet it, and also holy shit adam that’s a wolf what’s wrong with you

adam loves his staff, the people who do their best to reign in this little terror but don’t try that hard, because the thing about bratty kids is that they’re rarely brats all the time, as an adult you swing between wanting to strangle them and finding them so adorable and charming your chest hurts. so mrs. potts indulges him, likes the way he’s only ever really patient while he’s playing with her son chip when he’s snuck into the kitchen to beg her for some extra cookies. lumiere and cogsworth are his tutors and spend more time arguing with each other than teaching him, and he’s delighted by that.

and so adam is this loud, exuberant little prince who slowly but surely picks at gaston’s barrier until gaston almost feels like himself again, and adam doesn’t do what his parents did. adam doesn’t make fun of him for how much he cares about his hair, about how he hates dirt under his fingernails. as long as gaston keeps following him into dangerous situations, adam doesn’t care about much of anything, and gaston loves him for it.

and gaston’s on the cusp of teenagerhood when he realizes he loves adam, the prince, this is awful and he immediately has a panic attack over it, he’s to be lord and adam is to be king, it will never work, oh, and adam probably doesn’t like boys, and – oh my god, all those schoolyard taunts about him being gay we’re right this is a nightmare.

he’d freak out about this properly and probably go charging to the castle to confess his love in true embarrassing 12 year old fashion – except his parents set him down, pale, and say, “they’re gone, they’re all gone, the king and queen were found dead and the prince is gone and now a monster lives in the castle.” and of course gaston takes this to the most logical conclusion – a beast broke into the castle, killed the love of his young life, and now he’s claimed the castle for his own.

this is gaston’s defining moment okay, this is the point where he snaps and never goes back. he rebels against his parents, refuses to fit himself back into the mold of the perfect son, tries to live his life like adam would have wanted him to. that means being exactly who he is and damn the consequences. he focuses on his hair and his clothes and his looks, he pursues hunting because it reminds him of adam, because so much of their friendship took place in the woods, covered in mud and laughing. he pursues hunting because, one day, when he’s the very best he’s going to go the castle and kill the beast that killed adam. and his parents are furious about all of this and they disown him in favor of his young siblings and he just. doesn’t give a shit.

so he moves to the town, and everyone loves him, of course they love him. he’s loud and arrogant, but – he’s not cruel. he’s beautiful and brings in more pelts and meat than any other hunter and gaston doesn’t miss the days of being a young lordling in the slightest. but girls keep throwing themselves at him and he doesn’t know how to keep refusing either outing himself or hurting their feelings, so he goes to belle. belle, who is every inch as pretty he is. belle, who is smart and quiet and kind in a reserved sort of way. if there’s anyone who won’t judge him, it’s her.

so he goes to her, and tells her the truth – that he only likes men, that he’s not interested in advertising the fact, and asks her to pretend to be his lady. and belle, kind sweet belle, agrees. she does it out of sense of duty to help those in need, because nothing she knows of gaston says she will enjoy this. but she’s proven wrong, because gaston was raised to be a lord of course he’s educated, just because he doesn’t really care about any of that stuff doesn’t mean he doesn’t know it. and belle can speak with him like she can no other, because gaston has more formal education than anyone else in this village. and to their surprise, gaston and belle become friends, become the closest of friends, and gaston hasn’t known this closeness since adam, although it’s different because he loves belle but he’s not in love with belle.

and one day belle and her father are out traveling and sudden snowstorm forces them into the castle. belle knows there’s some sort of monster that supposedly lives there, but it’s either the castle for refuge or dying of cold outside, so into the castle they go. and instead of a hideous monster there’s adam, the beast. he’s rude and gruff and calls them twelve kinds of idiots for getting caught in a snowstorm in the first place. he offers them a room before sulking back into his study, watching the last petal threaten to the fall from the rose.

the castle is so excited to have guests, to have a young girl that may be their saving grace, and beast doesn’t know how to tell them that he likes girls well enough, but the only person he’s ever loved is a prickly, stuffy little boy who used to wring his hands together whenever they went looking for wolves. the storm doesn’t abate, and belle and her father stay. beast likes belle, likes how much she loves his library and the courteous way she speaks to all his staff even tho they’re all furniture, and he wishes he could love her, she is a woman that deserves to be loved. but he can’t.

back in the village, gaston has had it. the beast took adam from him, and he wont allow that thing to take belle. he rallies the villagers and goes marching to the castle, determined to save belle and her father, determined to kill the thing that killed adam.

so they storm the castle and he and the beast fight. belle and her father rush forward to stop the rest of the angry village men, and belle is screaming at gaston to stop, that things aren’t as they seem. but he’s mad with bloodlust, with revenge, and he’s about to take the beast’s head off with his axe when the beast lunges and pushes him to the ground, pinning him with an arm to his throat. and the muscle memory is so sudden and visceral that gaston freezes and stares at the snarling beast and whispers, “adam?”

and the beast blinks, and pulls back a little, and goes …… “gaston!?”

literally everyone is so confused, but they only get more confused when gaston throws himself at the beast and there’s a rush of magic as the last petal falls and the spell is broken. gaston sees beast for who he really is, loves him wholly and completely in the way only children can, and the curse is broken.

so gaston goes from having the beast in his arms to having a man, and he kisses him, outing himself in front of the whole village and not caring in the slightest. “i’ve missed you,” adam says, reaching out a hand to cup gaston’s cheek.

his staff are people again, and the cloud of darkness that had fallen over the castle is lifted. the old and irritable third cousin twice removed who’d been running the country is more than happy to hand it back over to adam, so happy in fact that he doesn’t question anything about this incredibly weird situation.

gaston and adam were children with a children’s love, but as adam gets his castle and kingdom up and running again, gaston is there. and their love deepens, and strengthens, and becomes something much more real and true than it ever was before. and gaston knows he can’t keep this, that adam will need to take a queen and gaston won’t be able to be with him after that.

except no one told adam that, because he goes to belle who just, never left the castle because she likes it and it likes her and her two favorite people are here. and also they’ll pry her from that library over her dead body. “hey,” adam says, “so, i’m kind of the king now.”

“i noticed,” belle answers, and doesn’t look up from her book.

adam considers closing it, but also considers that he likes his hands attached to his wrists. “want to get married? we’ll need to produce an heir or two, but beyond that you’ll get all the books you want and a whole country to boss around.” one of the things adam had quickly learned was that belle loved bossing people around.

belle doesn’t look up from her book. he hadn’t honestly expected her too. “okay. I’m dating plumette. im going to keep doing that.”

“nice,” he says, because plumette is a lot prettier now that she isn’t a feather duster.

so adam find gaston and tells him that he’s marrying belle, and gaston’s whole heart breaks but it makes sense, adam and belle make sense together, and he wishes he could make himself hate either of them but he can’t because he loves them both. but then adam is talking about how belle will have the rooms next to theirs, and gaston should probably stop paying rent for his house in the village, he lives in a literal palace, come on now.

and gaston figures out that adam is planning to stay with him, that belle is his wife and queen in name only and and gaston will continue to be the one in his heart and in his bed. adam is talking about how they all really need to sit down and do something about the redistribution of tax revenue, and they should probably do it before the wedding because otherwise their subjects will only show up to throw fruit at them. gaston cuts him off by pressing his king and love of his life against the wall and kissing him breathless.

cogsworth and lumiere walk by and pause mid-argument to wolf whistle at them before continuing on their way. gaston and adam end up having to hold each other up as they laugh so hard they can’t breath.

and everyone lives happily ever after.


read more of my retold fairytales here

The Boys Dormitory
  • In first year, the first time the five boys ever walked into their new home for the next seven years, could have been mayhem. But they had all eaten muchhhh too much food and so the fighting and mucking around was, thankfully kept to a minimum.
  • Sirius immediately dived onto the bed furthest from the door, not even bothering to unpack or undress before falling into a wriggly sleep. James bagged the bed next to him, mostly because it was also next to the window with the best view of the Quidditch pitch. Peter managed to sneak the bed next to James. Remus just lay down and quietly closed the curtains on another bed, far away from any window views that may show a certain grey orb. 
  • The next morning, however, everyone in the room was woken at 5 in the morning by James jumping up and down on his bed and running around the dorm in a nervous/ over-excited state.
  • Sirius tries to keep his bed as messy as possible, it was a strange way he used to piss his mother off at home, but his aristocratic nature glitters through sometimes and some of the boys can catch him plumping his pillows or straightening the sheets occasionally. He also leaves his pyjamas under his pillow each morning but mention it and you’ll get hexed. He is usually pretty good at cleaning up after himself and he always has his clothes in the right places, oh, except for his underwear, for some reason that just ends up everywhere?? under the bed, on the floor, in the shower, in James’ bed??? But other than that and the fact that he keeps trying to do homework in his bed and spills ink everywhere every time, he’s pretty good.
  • You would be proud of James if you saw his area, all nice and clean, nothing lying around… and then you would look a little closer. Every. single. item. he owns is jammed either under the bed, in his trunk, in the bedside table. I mean stuffed, it’s dirty and disgusting and packed full the brim and there is a funny smell coming from one part??? But somehow he just knows where everything is. Quidditch robes? Sticks his hand into the pile at the top of the bed and out they come. Borrow a quill? Sticks his hand into a jar rolled under a mound of unfolded clothes and out comes three. He does it in that way mums do with their purses, because you know.. he’s mum friend™. You don’t need to hide anything when it’s such a jumble only you can understand it.
  • Peter tried to copy James with his piles of shit, but it really stressed him out so he had to go and fold everything after like half an hour. He is the only cleaner in the room, going around picking dirty towels and clothes up off the floor for people. All his stuff organised and well kept and very aesthetically pleasing for some reason? He also always seems to have food somewhere, usually bedside table draw that he will pull out whenever it is needed, which is a lot.
  • Overall our boys do pretty well, nothing too unhygienic, pretty clean considering they are teenage boys.. oh wait I forgot Remus.
  • Remus is a fucking disaster. Like actually helpless/useless. His crap is e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e… except his bed. Ties on top of beds, shirts all over the floor every time, trousers hanging on the shower, hairbrush where his toothbrush should be, jumper on the outside of the window??? I mean he just can’t even get it together enough to find his own set of clothes because god knows where he threw his shit last night so mostly he just wears James’ school uniform until he is too embarrassingly tall for it and then every morning James has to dive into the shit and pull out Remus’ stuff from under the carpet or tangled in the drapes while Remus lies face down on the pillow and refuses to get up. He keeps his bag nicely packed but that is it. Also used to keep a massive stash of chocolate under his bed but he forgot it was there one day and it all melted and was fucking gross so now Peter looks after it for him.
  • Shower routine is James at like 4am because dis boy does not sleep and goes running when you shouldn’t. Peter is usually next, he gets up in time to have a nice shower. Remus usually doesn’t bother in the morning because he can barely make it to breakfast. Sirius takes a year in the shower every morning but may start crying if you leave without him so you just have to pound on the door and hope he can hear you over his singing. it’s dreadful btw.
  • The boys usually convene on James’ bed but once they are too big to lay on top of each other on it, they make a cute little circle in the middle to sit up and plan pranks/eat snacks with one of Remus’ mini, not flammable fires in the centre of them.
  • James once tried to fly his broom in the dorm on a dare and broke Peter’s bed.
  • Remus once fell asleep on the steps in front of the dorm because.. he is Remus and it was almost a full moon, so the boys just draped him in blankets and left him there.
  • There about fifty stains in places you can’t even imagine all over the room and they were all Sirius.
  • Peter sticks sticky notes and pictures and sheets of parchment all over the walls all the time.
  • There are numerous scorch marks in the ceiling. Enough said.
  • From fourth year they have an ‘if the curtains are drawn don’t open them’ rule because James tried to get into Sirius’ bed to chat about three times without noticing that Sirius was in bed with Remus and was deeply offended that they were scheming without him until he realised they weren’t doing much talking…..
  • there were also many other instances of each of them walking in on each other in very private situations with other people because all four boys were much too comfortable with each other.
  • they then had to instigate a no walking around the dorm naked rule because Sirius kept doing it when there were girls in there.
  • They all carved their initials into their bedposts in 6th year and then went back and added ‘i solemnly swear that I am up to no good.’ on James headboard and ‘mischief managed.’ on Sirius’ in 7th year. it was that lucky guess that let fred and george guess the marauder’s map passwords
  • the window sill is semi-permanently covered in cigarette and joint butts.
  • Sirius left about a thousand lipstick stains on the mirror.
  • Lily kept leaving her shampoo in the shower in the seventh year and Peter liked it so much he wouldn’t give it back.
  • They all share one spray on deodorant for some reason?
  • They had a routine of not going to sleep until every one of them was back. They also said ‘goodnight’ to each other every night with out fail, no matter how bad the argument or problem.
  • They were basically so comfortable, so in-sync with each other that you would have walked into the Gryffindor boys room and thought it was a family.
  • And in a way.. it was.


Click here for my post about the Girls Dormitory!

Insecure (Peter Parker x Reader)


Authors note: this was requested by the lovley @signethatsmelol, also I hate myself bc I turned my precious babies against each other for the sake of fiction

Warning(s): some swearing, violence, angst BUT DW BC FLUFF AT THE END

Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. Maybe it was the unusual silence of the school halls after class or the fact that Peter hadn’t come to find you but something was definitely up.

You frowned as you made your way to your locker, your boyfriend of a year nowhere to be seen.  Opening it up, you loaded in your calculus textbook and a few other things before heading your academic decathlon club. You often found yourself looking forward to your team meets as you’d get to spend more time with your boyfriend, Peter and best friend, Flash.

You’d actually met Peter through Flash, when you’d first joined Midtown high. Flash had been your ‘tour’ guide as such, and he was extremely sweet towards you, he’d made you feel comfortable with the move to a new high school and even invited you to the team’s first meet of the year, although he was very flirtatious and you weren’t into that. Peter had joined the meet a little later than it had started because of his Stark internship and it was pretty much love at first sight from then on.

You’d grown to love his little stammer every time he talked to you, and that blush that spread from his cheeks to his neck every time you held his hand in public. You could even say you loved Peter Parker . That’s why you were so worried when he hadn’t come to meet you, the pair of you were inseparable so you knew something was wrong.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as your friend Michelle came running towards you, panic etched across her features. “Michelle?” You asked, turning from your locker to face her, concern stitched into your voice. She was hunched over, hands gripping  her knees as she struggled to catch her breath.

“I-it’s Peter” she began, drawing herself upwards. “He’s gotten into another fight”

Your eyes widened as she spoken, you slammed your locker shut as the curly haired girl lead you towards the fight. Within a matter of minutes, you found yourself behind a large gathering of people, formed into a circle. People were cheering and filming the ordeal. Hurriedly, you pushed your way through the bands of people, trying to get a better look at the scene.

“Excuse me, sorry. Pardon me”

What you saw after weaving your way through the crowds made your heart drop. Your friend, Flash and your boyfriend Peter.

They were currently standing opposite each other, faces swollen and bruised. Flash had clearly gotten the brute end of it, and looked like he was on his last legs. Peter on the other hand looked significantly less injured and you knew in that moment he had been the one to start the fight. You knew Flash had picked on Peter, that’s what made it hard to maintain your friendship with him but you never thought Peter would lash out on him like this.

“Say that again, I dare you” you heard Peter spit, bouncing his fist up and down menacingly. Through the pain, you could see Flash draw his lips into a cruel smirk.

“She doesn’t want you, she never has. She’s only with you to get back at me”

That was all it took for Peter to launch himself at Flash, you covered your eyes and bit your now quivering lip, as you heard the pair’s grunts of pain. You knew know that this wasn’t some stupid spat between boys.

This was about you.

Opening your eyes, you rushed out into the circle, the cheers from the crowd only sky rocketing. At this point, both boys were at either side of the circle, you rushed between them in an attempt to stop the violence. “Stop it!” You yelled breathlessly, looking between them. “Just stop it! You’re hurting each other!”

Both boys fixed their posture before looking at you. You stared Peter down, meeting his gaze with a confused look, you could see the guilt swirling in his eyes. Your attention was stolen, when Flash begun to speak up. “Get outta the way (Y/N), I gotta let this punk have it

Don’t talk to her like that” Peter seethed back. You shook your head, begging yourself not to cry as the two boys you cared about glared and growled at each other. You could see that Peter was tired and could tell that he was feeling guilty.

“Leave it Flash” you called out as he tried to advance. You turned to your boyfriend and grabbed him then by the wrist trying to get him out of there. You pulled him into a guest toilet and locked the door behind you. You sat him down on the lid of the toilet,  grabbing some tissue and running it under some cold water before pressing the compress to his bruised knuckles.

“What the fuck was that Peter?” You said, as you worked in silence. Peter could only watch as you moved about, making more compresses for his cuts before they bruised.

“I’m sorry” the brunette boy whispered, not meeting your eyes as you inspected his face. You paused, looking into his chocolatey orbs, anger swirling in them.

You’re sorry?!” You yelled, your calm facade breaking down. This wasn’t the first time Peter had gotten into a fight over you, in fact, they’d been happening a lot more recently. You’ve never mentioned it to him before, at first you thought he was being over protective, but now you could tell it was much more serious. “Sorry doesn’t cut it Peter! Do you know how many times I’ve had to pull you out of these situations? Do you know how many times I’ve had to save your ass from being beaten into the ground? Do you know how much that scares me? I don’t know what’s going on with you Peter but you need to sort this out.”

Your boyfriend flinched at every word you spoke, as if he was being

sprayed by acid. He knew what you were saying was true, but he couldn’t help it.

“Peter, I love you!” You cried out, as he gazed at you intently. “But you can’t keep fighting people over me! Flash is one of my best friends, and to see you both almost kill each other out there breaks my heart! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but if it keeps happening, I don’t know if I can stay”

This time, Peter’s head snapped up, looking you directly in the eyes. “W-what are you - are you saying?” he whispered, voice low and uneven. He was standing now, and you could see his body shaking.

“I’m saying that maybe…” you sighed, backing away from Peter. “We should…take a break?”

“No!“Peter practically screamed, his voice cracking as he did so.

In the dim light of the bathroom, you could see his eyes glaze over as his body begun to shake. “P-please”

Peter…

“I meant it when I said I was sorry” he tried, his voice betraying him. “I don’t know what came over me, F-flash was just saying these awful things about you, a-about us and I began to doubt myself”

You neared your sobbing boyfriend, immediately feeling guilting for suggesting that you end things. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his head down to rest on your shoulder as he cried. “T-they say I don’t deserve you, all the guys. T-they say you’re too good for me… and it’s true”.

You stroked his hair softly as he let out his emotions. You never knew that he’d felt this way, that this could have ever been the reason for his outbreak. That Peter Parker was insecure.

Baby no” you whispered but he didn’t stop there.

“You’re the kindest and sweetest soul and I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. You’ve been with me through everything and I-I’m just… Peter” he hiccuped, pulling away from you with bleary eyes. “P-please don’t leave me, you’re everything I have”

“Peter…” you sighed, holding him close until he’d calmed down. “I-I’ll never leave you, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry”. You clung to him, trying to tell him that you were there and that you weren’t ever going to let go, you cursed yourself for being such a terrible girlfriend. When you both pulled away, you looked up at Peter, feeling his love for you radiate off of his body. You stood on your tip toes and slowly pressed your lips to his, the taste of his cherry lip balm invading your tongue. His warm and familiar hands snaked their way around your waste, pulling you closer to him. You gripped the collar of his plaid shirt from under his jumper and tugged him towards you, wanting to be as close to him  as possible, wanting him to feel the love you had for him. All of Peter’s insecurities melted away in that moment, he knew that you would never leave him, he knew that you loved him and that none of the other guys meant anything to you, not even Flash.

When you’d both come up for air, a small smile graced your lips. Peter returned your smile, going to bury his head in the crook of your neck again. “I’m so in love with you” he whispered against the  skin of your neck.

“I love you too Pete”

You both stood in silence, holding each other, the only sounds being made were your giggles as Peter pressed kisses to your neck. “I really am sorry about Flash though, I know how much he means to you” Peter spoke, after a few moments.

You rolled your eyes, before ruffling Peter’s hair. “He was an asshole anyways, you’re all that I care about”

You both laughed before you pressed a quick kiss to Peter’s lips, making him blush. “Now we should probably get out of here before people think we’re up to something” you winked at him playfully , as he shook his head at your antics.

Peter only let out a laugh as you pulled away to unlock  the door. You  grinned back at him, admiring his smile, and the way it reached his eyes. You really loved Peter and god help anyone that tried to make your baby insecure again.

say you won’t let go | 01

 part 01 | part 02 [final] 

Summary: You’ve been eighteen years old for ten years when Jungkook first moves in.
Pairing: Jungkook | Reader
Genre: Fluff/Angst; Roommate/Soulmate AU (In which you stop aging when you turn 18 until you meet your soulmate)
Word Count: 12,038
Author’s Note: I was going to wait and upload the whole thing in one giant oneshot but for the stake of everyone’s sanity, it’ll be split into two parts. props to @minsvga for always being down to beta! 

.

The morning comes like clockwork, obviously, but sometimes you wish it didn’t. Sometimes, the morning is like an unexpected gust of wind, blowing away the present and the comfort and leaving you alone with nothing but your thoughts and the disappointing feeling akin to the sensation of something missing from your life. Which, considering everything the world and the fates and the bonds that connect individuals together and all the shit like that, is not too far off from a relevant problem in your life.

The days seem to blend together, time slipping between your fingers but leaving you with no opportunity or way to stop it or prolong it. You certainly feel different, older somehow and probably wiser, and you’re sure it shows in your eyes, in the curl of your lips, in the longing touch of your smile.

But you crawl out of bed in the morning, feet landing like a gentle sigh on the carpet, following the hall down to your bathroom until you’re situated in front of the sink and taking a long glance at your reflection. You don’t know why you insist to yourself to always look at the mirror, because it’s not like anything would have changed overnight, nothing ever really does. You take in your expression, the skin of your face and the darkness of your eyes, a harsh contrast to the youth of your face, the curve of your nose and the sharpness of your jawline—you: fresh, and young and not a day over eighteen-years-old, just as you have been for ten years.

This has been the way of human life since its creation, a science with no explanation and a connection that cannot be seen or heard or even felt. It’s a different kind of connection, moreso the type of link that brings two people together, two people whoever has a hand in predetermination believe would be the best fit for each other. A soulmate, an individual meant to compliment you in every aspect, someone gifted to you from unidentifiable figures; figures you would not even believe existed if not for the world they created and built, a world you now inhabited.

In theory, the unspoken rules of the whole soulmate business seemed easy: a case in which the aging process stops at the eighteen until one’s soulmate came along, done so in order for the pair of them to gain the ability to grow old together, experience life together, be there for each other during the true ups and downs of college and jobs and family. Every single person you’ve ever stumbled upon each has their own story, their own tales of their relationship. You’ve met people in a relationship that never grew, friends who realized they were each other’s everything, individuals who went through years upon years upon years of life with a soulmate fresh out of the gate—always a variety, never a wrong answer or a right one. Yet, they all seem happy, no matter where the path of life seems to take them.

But now that you’ve been eighteen for a solid ten years, you’re ready to call major bullshit on every single individual who dared to look you in the eye and tell you that they don’t care about the unwinding of fate.

Keep reading

Worse Than Nicotine

Prompt: “You’re the health-conscious med student and I’m the chain-smoking art student who’s also your barista and you leave me notes on smoking and lung health on your napkins and also a 20-page essay on lung cancer tucked under your saucer” AU. Where Sirius is the chain-smoking art student.

Word Count: About 5,500.

Warning(s): Smoking, sexual tension, kissing, motorcycle ride without all the gear. Don’t accept a ride from someone on a motorcycle unless they supply the proper gear and you’re wearing pants and a heavy jacket, preferably. Do some research before riding!

Note: Sort of a modern, college AU. This isn’t smut, but, I have to warn you, it does end up being smoking hot. Hah. Get it? Anyway, thank you @princesse-de-ravenclaw for reading this over!


To the barista with the pretty grey eyes,

Smoking can cause the lens of the eyes to fog up and the whites of the eyes to turn yellow. Don’t ruin their beauty. If not for yourself, then for those who have the pleasure of seeing them. ;)

Love, Y/N.

Sirius rolled his eyes, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he pocketed yet another note from you. If you were to open a spare drawer in his flat, you would find a collection of tossed napkins with rushed scribbles littering the surface. Maybe one day Sirius would take your insistent advice, but right now, all he wanted was a drag.

“Another love letter from your favorite med student?”

Keep reading

the millionaire and his lover | jjk

summary: over the course of your lifelong friendship with jungkook, you can’t say that you’ve ever had the greatest ideas, and a fake relationship with the boy you’ve been in love with for years is no exception. 

{self-gratuitous ceo au, friends-to-lovers, and fake relationship trope rolled into one big shitstorm of a jungkook fic}

pairing: jungkook x female reader
word count: 18k
genre: fluff, angst, and light smut
warnings: alcohol mentions, smut
a/n: hello all! i wanted to kickoff my writing on this blog with a bang, so here’s a longish fic on my wildest dreams. 

When you first tell people that you happen to know CEO and multimillionaire Jeon Jungkook, they tell you one of three things:

1: You’re so lucky! Could you introduce me?

2: You must have saved an entire country in your past life.

3: Is he as much of an asshole as the news outlets make him out to be?

What you don’t say, though, is this: You and Jungkook have had history for as long as you could remember. As not only neighbors, but also childhood friends, you happen to know quite a lot about the man who made a name of himself before he even graduated from university. You would also very much like to keep quiet the fact that you’ve harbored a crush on the boy for quite some time now, obvious to everyone whose name isn’t Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook is, in one word, brilliant. He is brilliantly intelligent, brilliantly talented, brilliantly beautiful. He is suave and smooth and gets what he wants and if he didn’t possess such a disdain for the tabloids that do nothing but stretch the truth, he would have them wrapped around his finger. Sure, he’s no actor or singer, but he is a celebrity, and a skilled one at that. The media know no boundaries when it comes to a man like Jungkook, painting him as stunning yet rude, rich yet selfish, smart but cold. You know they blow his brief affairs out of proportion, and you know they will never know the boy who fell off of his bicycle in the second grade.

Jungkook is not powerful enough to replace the stars in your sky, but he is powerful enough to rearrange them right in front of your eyes, creating endless constellations that all remind you of him. He is the boy you have cherished since your elementary school days, when he would accidentally drool on your shoulder and throw sand into your mouth, and you are the girl who, despite all class differences, has stuck by him through thick and thin. It is not enough, but perhaps to him, it is.

“Do you ever try to mooch off of his wealth?” People ask you. “I would.”

And sure, every now and then you will ask him for money and he will give it to you, but your intentions are pure and you do not, will not, ever take his generosity for granted. Not when he has so much and you so little. You know what life is like when the world keeps trying to trip you, and a bit of smooth ground is not enough to keep you from forgetting the struggle.

That is, until you get laid off your job due to an influx of new workers, and your next student debt payment is due in roughly, a week.

What?”

Keep reading

Babysitter

Summary:  You were visiting home for the weekend to find out that your parents have hired a new babysitter.

Pairing: Kim Taehyung (V) / Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 3.3k

A/N: Rated M - under 18 you have been warned :)

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |Masterlist


You were finally coming home to visit your family, from spending an exhausting year at college. Summer break! Finally some relaxation, hopefully. Your younger siblings might make that impossible.

As soon as you packed your bags for the next few months you had to say goodbye to your roommate/ best friend.

“We are definitely hanging out.” You gladly accepted her request. She only lived an hour from your parents house.

-

As you stood outside your family home, something felt different. You felt like you’ve been gone for so long. You were only a freshman in college, so much change in so little time.

You walked into your house expecting loud chaos from your brother and sister but surprised from the quiet.

“Hello….I’m home.” No answer.

You heard faint screaming in the backyard. As soon as you open the sliding glass door, you saw the kids running, your father grilling and your mother basking in the sun. You missed this.

“(Y/N)’S home!!” You heard your brother and sister run over.

“I missed you guys.” You said as you got smothered into hugs.

-

The few hours you have been home, your old childhood friends were already contacting you to come hang out tonight. It was already 6 o'clock when you went downstairs ready to leave but you noticed that your parents were dressed in a fancy get-up.

“Are you guys going out?” You wished for a no, but judging by their clothes that would be unbelievable.

“Yes, the company your father works for is hosting a dinner party.”

You did your best to try to stay calm, you knew if you complained about having to babysit, you would sound stubborn from only being home a day.

“Does that mean I have to stay home?”

“Where are you going?” Your mother questioned.

“Liz and Sana asked me to come over.” You nervously asked.

“Can Tae watch us?” Your twelve year old brother interrupt.

“Please, please.” Your seven year old sister joined in.

“Who’s Tae?” You asked your parents.

“He’s the babysitter we hired while you were at school.” He?

“Okay I guess, you guys wear that poor kid out.” Your mother answered. He must be some high school kid trying to make money for a new car or worse video games.

“So…I can go?” You already tried to walk towards the door.

“Fine….I’ll call Taehyung….but please keep your phone on just in case.” Your mother demanded.

-

“These were the days.” Sana said as she sipped her beer. You were at a beach party, scattered around a bon fire. In high school, this was your weekend. Even though you’re not old enough to drink, but that never stopped the young people around here.

It’s your decision to not get too drunk though. You hated the experience and you got grounded for a month.

“Hey (Y/N), long time no see.” You saw your ex, if you can call him that Youngjin.

You dated him for a solid month, until you found out he was cheating on you. After you broke things off he would occasionally hit on you and other women in your perspective. It got annoying that you even gave him a bloody nose once.

“Aren’t you looking beautiful tonight.”

You didn’t answer you just smirked and turned your back.

“I’m going to get a drink.” You left.

As you leaned down to open the cooler you felt someone aggressively grab your ass. The pain shot your attention to the person behind you. Youngjin.

“Get your fucking hands off of me.” You felt a little dizzy from the alcohol but you still had your right mind to not let that type of behavior pass.

“What’s wrong, don’t you like that?” He teased.

You pushed him away hard enough to make him lose his balance.

-

Youngjin had ruined your night and you decided to head home. You didn’t feel sick but you did feel tired. As soon as you got home you saw your parents pull up the driveway. Great, what if they can smell the alcohol on you?

You followed your parents footsteps walking through the door.

“How were they?” You heard your parents talking in the living room.

“They were good.” You heard a genuine voice. Must be the babysitter.

“They’re sleeping already.” Your mother told your father.

“Oh (Y/N)….come meet Taehyung.” Your mom caught you half way up the staircase.

You quietly groaned as you made your way to the living room.

“Tae this is our daughter (Y/N).” Your mother moved out of your view to reveal your new replacement and your siblings new best friend.

“Hel-” You started to say but got caught off guard as soon as you saw the mystery man. You felt your mind go into a daze, he was so handsome. You felt butterflies in your stomach, how can someone make you so tongue tied.

“Hi.” You cleared your throat. As soon as you felt him embrace your hand you felt tingles shot throughtout your body.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled an adorable smile that made you felt weak. “Your brother and sister share a lot of stories about you.”

You immediately blushed, knowing your sibling those stories were most likely embarrassing.

“Thank you for coming.” Your mother grabbed his attention from yours.

“It’s no problem, they’re entertaining.”  Your father laughed patting him on the back.

“Have a safe drive home.” Your mother hugged him. He really was your replacement, he was like part of the family now. He even got your brother and sister to bed quicker then you ever have.

“Bye.” You were caught staring the entire time.

“Have you been drinking?” You didn’t pay attention to your mother, you only paid attention to the adorable creature smirking at you as he walked out the door.

“(Y/N)? You have haven’t you? I can smell it.” Your mother pinched the top of her nose to stop a headache passing through.

“Those girls have always been a bad influence.”

“Mom no worries I only had like two drinks….trust me the first time was enough for me I never want to get drunk again.”

“Okay fine but please be responsible, you’re still considered under age.”

“For only three more months.” You defended.

“Doesn’t matter sweetie, the law is the law.” Your father rubbed your back then went upstairs.

“So Tae was cute wasn’t he?” Your mother teased.

“Mom.” You tried to hide your blush.

“He’s a nice boy.” Then your mother left you alone with your thoughts.

-

You made your way to the kitchen too early for your liking but school got you in the habit, even though you still felt groggy.

“(Y/N) sweetie, Taehyung will be here later to pick this up okay?” Your mother waved an envelope. “We didn’t have the cash to pay him last night, so he’s coming to pick it up okay.”

“Okay.” You yawned.

“Come on lets go.” Your mother guided your brother and sister out so they wouldn’t miss the school bus. They still had a another three weeks of school left.

-

You were bumming around just watching TV, when you heard the doorbell. You didn’t even think about it, you just got up and dragged yourself to the door.

When you opened the door you froze. Shit! Your mothers words flashed through your mind. Taehyung was suppose to pick up last night’s pay. If only you were more awake when your mother told you.

Here you were standing in front of an attractive man, wearing yoga shorts, baggy t-shirt, and hair tied up in a messy bun.

“Hi.” You nervously greeted.

“Hey.” He smiled. Butterflies, as he looked at your attire up and down.

“Sorry, I completely forgot you were coming.” You ran to kitchen quickly. As you searched through the kitchen drawers you couldn’t figure out where your mom could have put the envelope.

While you were still searching you heard someone clear their throat to get your attention.

“I got it.” You saw him take it off the magnet from the fridge.

“There it is.” You embarrassingly stated, causing him to laugh.

“How come you’re not in school, I figured you’re in high school?”

He laughed. “No I’m twenty-one.”

“Oh.” He’s older then you. “Are you in college?”

“No, I work with my parents.”

“Cool.” You said cheerfully, but you were just an awkward mess.

“I guess I better get going.” He smiled and started to leave.

“Okay see you later….or not…or I don’t know.” He turned around slightly and arched his eyebrows. Then he laughed cutely and shut the door behind him. You slapped your forehead disappointed in yourself.

“Why are you so awkward?” You whispered to yourself.

-

“You better be here in ten or we are leaving without you.” Liz snapped at you on the phone.

It was a few days later and your parents made plans for a social gathering for another work related thing. Your parents were pretty popular around the neighborhood.

You basically begged your mom to call Taehyung to babysit at last minute because your friends were hounding you to go to another party.

Your mother made the call, apologizing in the process, but you had to wait for Tae to get here yourself because your parents were running late. Your brother and sister was of course excited, they beg for him to be here all the time, even if your parents are home.

When you hung up the phone call with your friend, you heard a knock on the door.

You rushed over to answer and there he was, looking attractive as ever.

“Hi.” You greeted. He smiled, but as soon as he saw your outfit he was taken back. You couldn’t read his facial expression, he just looked shocked. Was it too much? You settled in a tight black skirt, stopping mid-thigh and a long sleeve black and red crop top that stopped right before your waist. It wasn’t too revealing but not too clean either.

As soon as he slightly brushed past you, you heard your sister run into the room and attacked Tae with hugs, not to long your brother.

“Okay, my number is on the fridge if you need me.”

“Bye.” Your sister waved, not even paying attention.

“I wont be too long.”

“Don’t have too much fun.” Taehyung smirked.

-

The party was a disaster, it was over crowed, you were constantly getting dry humped on by dumb drunks and better yet your friends abandoned you, probably some random hook up. You have only been here two hours and counting.

As you were getting ready to leave, you bumped into someone. “Hey sexy.” Youngjin. Ugh.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. Goodbye,” but before you could leave he grabbed your wrist pushing you up against the wall.

“Let go.” He put his lips onto yours. You tried all your strength to push him off but he was not budging.

You bit his lip as hard as you can and kneed him in the stomach, giving you a few seconds to make a run for it.

“You bitch!” You heard him shout in pain.

-

You drove home as quick as you can not caring about leaving your friends. They can find their own ride. You didn’t even have an ounce of alcohol this time, maybe if you did you would of enjoyed yourself more. But you were proud you didn’t, Youngjin would of probably of taken an advantage of you and you would of let him.

Honestly you wished you could of met someone like your friends, you’ve been single for a long time and worse, sexually frustrated. Seeing your college friends in relationships were quiet envious. As you can tell though you have a lot to learn, you are too awkward with attractive men. Tae for example, he probably thinks you’re weird.

-

When you pulled up to the house, you noticed your parents weren’t home yet, as expected. You entered and you saw your brother sleeping in the recliner and your sister cuddled up next to Tae, trying to stay awake.

Tae looked at you surprised that you were home sooner then he thought.

“Hey.” He greeted. “How was whatever?”

“Sucked.” You slouched on the love seat.

“Date?” You were surprised at his annology.

“Party.” You looked down. “And my friends ditched me again so I wasn’t having fun.”

“That’s because they suck.” Dara, your little sister yawned.

“I think it’s time you go to bed.” You got up as you guided your sleepy brother up to his bedroom.

When you left his room, you saw Tae carrying Dara on his shoulder, gently putting her to bed.

“Thank you…you can go home if you want.” You suggested.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” He kindly offered.

“Yeah.” You blushed.

You followed him downstairs to the living room.

“I’ll make some popcorn.” You left and went to the kitchen.

You sighed, still thinking about the party. What’s wrong with you?

“Do you want to talk about it?” You heard Tae sweetly ask as you turned around.

“It’s nothing really, I just wish I could meet the standards that my friends have….I’m always a buzz kill.”

“What do you mean?” He questioned getting closer.

“My friends are so pretty and so good at talking to attractive guys….I mean thats why I can’t even talk to you.” You rambled as you turned around to the ding of the microwave. Then it hit you of what you just said.

When you turned around embarrassingly, he was leaning on the counter next to you.

“You have trouble talking to guys?” He questioned. You just nodded. “You’re talking to me right now.” He smiled.

“And if you ask me, a lot of guys are probably tongue tied talking to you.” He blushed. Wait. Did he blush at you?

You froze as he grabbed onto the counter behind you locking you in place.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“N-no.” You tried your best to speak. “Just nervous.”

He looked down shyly. “I felt intimidated as soon as I saw you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah…your sister talks about how pretty you are but I had no idea.”

Your breathing got heavier as you felt him lean in closer to you.

“Please hurry.” You whispered.

He arched his eyebrows surprised from your impatience. As soon as he press his lips to yours, he was surprisingly gently.

You kissed back, lacing your fingers through the back of his hair, slightly tugging. He grabbed your waist pulling you in closer so your hips were aligned, making the butterflies in your stomach shiver throughout your body.

You felt Tae deepen the kiss when you felt his tongue moisture your bottom lip trying to have access inside. It didn’t take you long to open your mouth, letting his tongue explore.

He slowly backed away to take a breather as he moved on to your neck. You bit your lips and tilted your head back as the pleasure was causing the dampness between your legs. The things you felt his tongue could do, you never felt more inexperienced in your life. You only had sex once and it was a dumb mistake with Youngjin, who purposely got you drunk. You don’t remember hardly anything from that night, so this was a new feeling to you.

Tae lightly sucking all up and down your neck, leaving marks behind. He reached around kissing you passionately again as he picked you up and placed you on to the counter top.

You both stopped for a second, resting your foreheads against each other. Your breathing was not slowing down from the gently touching, making his way up your shirt.

The adrenaline was revealing a side of you you never seen before. As he was making his way up to your bra, you grabbed a hold of his belt buckle. Your confidence getting the better of you. You undid his belt along with his pants.

“You really want to do this?” He asked concerned. You just nodded desperately.

“What if your parents walk in on us….I think it would be clear I would be fired.” You giggled from how cute he was.

“When it comes to social gathering my parents won’t be back till midnight….trust me.” You said lustfully.

He went back to kissing you, slowly pulling your shirt above your head and on to the floor. You placed your hand once more to his now open pants buckle, gently rubbing the sensitive area. As you started feeling him get harder he grabbed your hand stopping you.

“I wont last much longer if you keep doing that.” He laughed out of breath.

His fingers danced up your thighs making their way under your skirt. You felt his finger hook the edge of your underwear pulling them down.

You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, but you loved every second of it.

You saw Taehyung looked down disappointed. “I don’t have…..-protection.”

You laughed from the worry on his face. “What….I wasn’t planning on coming here, thinkin-” You kissed him to stop his ramble.

“It’s fine….I’m on birth control.” You pulled down the rest of your underwear and tossed them to the floor. He leaned into you closer, quickly pulling his pants down only enough to be exposed.

He leaned his forehead to yours for a second like he was thinking. Your breathing quickened when you felt his member brush your folds.

“You sure-” He asked once more.

“Yes Tae.”

Then he pushed into you, following your request. You quietly squealed from the surprise of his size. You stiffened until your body could adjust. “You okay?” He asked sweetly.

You nodded wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him in even closer. He started kissing your neck once again as he started thrusting inside of you deeper. You couldn’t help but moan loudly as he quicken his movements.

He suddenly stop putting his hand over your mouth. “Let’s try not to wake your siblings okay.” He laughed.

“Sorry.” You pouted.

He rocked his hips as he leaned into you, kissing your neck diligently. He quickened his speed harder hitting your g spot. You felt a rush as the pleasure was setting in. The only sound was your heavy breathing and the light tapping from underneath you. You felt your walls clench as you heard his low grunts, the way he was turning you on you were going to let go any second.

“Tae.” You cried.

“Fuck….I’m-” You couldn’t get your words out. You were a moaning mess as you felt sensitive from your orgasm flooding through. You were trying to refrain yourself as best as you could, but the ecstasy was throwing you off. The new feeling made you numb.

“Shhhh.” He smirked.

You could tell he was close from his movements being sloppy. You embraced him with another tender kiss to ease his pleasure. You felt your body go weak as soon as his juices shot through your body warming you up, the whole experience made you feel drowsy. 

You guys were breathing heavy as you stopped to process what just happened. You bit your lip as you looked up at him nervously. “Do you want to go watch that movie now?” You suggested.

He looked at you amused and laughed. “Sure.”

You watched him back away from you and buckle his pants. You couldn’t help but blush, the way he looked at you was so sexy. You developed feelings for him in such a short time.

You were about to hop off the counter when he grabbed your hips helping you down. “Wow a gentleman.” You teased.

“I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” He nodded. As soon as you turned towards the stairs he grabbed your wrist pulling you to his chest. He grabbed the back of your neck pulling you in a deep passionate kiss.

“Don’t be too long.” He bit his lip and made his way to the living room.

-

You and Taehyung were cuddled up on the couch with a blanket drenched over you. He would steal kisses from you here and there. He was sweet and adorable and the butterflies in your stomach were never ending. You were hoping that this wasn’t a one time thing. He made you feel….happy.

-

Your parents came home at the time expected, 1 o'clock.

Your mother came into the living room surprised to see that you and Taehyung were sleeping on the couch, cuddled side by side.

“Minho, come look at this.”

Your father just arched an eyebrow.

“They look so cute.” Your mother said.

“Should we wake them?” Your father asked.

“No let them sleep.”

-

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Borrowed Time

The series where Harry is mute

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio


Y/n never went back home. Instead, she spends winter break in the confines of Harry’s apartment—wrapped up in between his bedsheets to keep warm.

The usually cold and brutal winter that always made their skin numb is now warm to them—skin always accompanied by one another’s and feeling more than ever before. And with the mix of never ending company and the feel of the music that always seems to be playing in his apartment, they couldn’t have asked for a better way to start off their relationship.

They never do anything extravagant—never do anything that could take time away from one another. It’s in their simplicity do they find a sense of comfort throughout the festive season. They feel happiest in their own little world—away from everything and everyone, just focusing on them being together without any distractions.

With being so consumed by one another, they’ve learned more about each other than ever before—spending most days watching their favorite movies and baking new recipes they found in Harry’s favorite Christmas cookbook and spending the nights cuddled up against one another as Y/n somehow finds new things to talk about.

Each day, they fall in love with each other all over again. It’s as if their hearts unravel and trap each other in—giving them no means of escape, but neither of them want to.

Whenever she spends the night at his apartment, Harry has to spend nearly an hour each morning just to fight her from getting out of bed. It’s become a routine, Harry having to pull her from the edge of the bed so that he can cradle her back in his arms while she giggles and mumbles some excuses he doesn’t have the energy to listen to.

He just really, really, really loves the feel of her first thing in the morning, especially when the brutal feel of the blistering winds finds its way to his apartment. She’s much warmer than usual and her eyes are brighter and always glistened against the sun. Her lips, too—they are always so much fuller somehow that even in his mild awareness, he finds himself kissing them before he finally lets her slip away from the comfort of the sheets.

But this morning—this morning is different.

After a Christmas night filled with passion and inexperienced intimacy, Harry really doesn’t want to let her go. He’d much rather feel her uncovered body up against his all morning—soaking each other up and holding one another until the sun sets into the night.

It just sounds so right, to keep each other near and close after giving each other their last bit of innocence. Everything they had to offer one another was taken and used to make them whole, so that’s how they should be—together and whole for as long as they possibly can.

But when Harry feels Y/n begin to stir her way out of his arms, he knows she has very different plans.

And he’s just not having it.

He whimpers in his slumbered state, pulling her back against his chest with eyes half-lidded and breathing still steady. He’s holding onto her like never before, refusing to feel her side of the bed empty. He needs her, her, her, anywhere and everywhere as long as it’s with him. And despite having every bit of her last night, he hasn’t gotten enough and he needs her more.

She giggles softly against his neck, gingerly kissing the exposed skin as her fingers run along his jaw. She can already feel him falling back asleep from her touch, a content sigh leaving his lips at their closeness.

“Love, I gotta get up. Y’know me, can’t stay in bed once I’m awake.”

He groans as he shakes his head, somehow filling up the smallest of empty spaces between them and tucking his head into her shoulder. His nose is right up against her skin and he can smell her usual scent—vanilla and lavender from her usual body wash but much more filthy than usual.

She giggles again when she feels his bottom lip poke at her shoulder, her fingers reaching to his hair as she combs through it.

“Oh, none of that, H.” She tisks, thumbing the very exaggerated pout on his lips. “I’ll be right downstairs, won’t be going anywhere far.”

He rolls his body off of her, his back hitting against the mattress with a whine. His eyes remain closed but there’s a very noticeable furrow between his brows, and Y/n begins to wonder what he’s so worried about.

She frowns down at him, observing the rise of his goosebumps from the morning cold on his bare chest. It looks empty and lifeless without her head upon it, and though his body is no stranger to her, there’s something about it that seems much more inviting and she yearns to keep it closer than ever.

And she gets it—she gets his exaggerated whining and the worry in his eyes. After everything that happened to them the night before, he can’t leave her—he can't—and that’s exactly what she’s doing to him, even if it’s only a floor away.

Almost as if to reassure him, she goes with the feel of her heart and decides to spend the next couple hours of the freezing morning right beside him.


Harry loves watching Y/n in her most natural hours.

Her chest and elbows are leaning against the surface of the kitchen counter, one hand holding a mug of coffee while the other flips the pages of her favorite poetry book. Her upper body is clad with Harry’s favorite sweatshirt—ending right at the end of her underwear—leaving her legs exposed and on full display for all of Harry to see.

Despite her hair fully knotted and having an overall disheveled look to her, Harry decides that she looks best this way—in a way nobody other than him has gotten the chance to see—as if she was made for his eyes only.

And he has never seen such a beautiful sight in his life as she looks at him with the softest and most delicate of eyes, a small smile resting on her lips at his presence. Every bit of her looks inviting—like a place of comfort Harry could forever shield himself in.

She’s become so much more than his girlfriend—so much more than someone to call his own—she’s become his muse and his home, his haven and everything in between.

“You always look at me with longing even when I’m right here with you.”

He blinks at her, watching as her cheeks flush with pink under the watch of his amused eyes, loving how easily tranced he becomes in her.

She’s never been confident in herself. Ever since she was a little girl, she used her friendliness to somehow distract people from what she truly felt on the inside. She never truly touched base with her insecurities and never wanted to, so she always found ways to push the most damaging thoughts in the back of her head.

But Harry changed everything. He made her feel beautiful and loved in every way possible, she almost doesn’t understand how he could have so much of that love in him—especially for her. From the way he holds her all throughout the night to the small kisses and gestures whenever he has the chance, she feels it everywhere and she almost feels it in herself.

His sheepish smile confirms her statement, knowing fully that there will never be a moment he doesn’t want her, no matter where she is.

He walks slowly over to her, the smile never fading from his lips and the blush creeping back to Y/n’s cheeks as she turns her body to stretch her arms out at him. It’s the smallest moments like this that make them grateful for the kind of love they share—together.

He presses his lips to hers tenderly when he feels her fingers run across his stomach, his own fingers pushing the material of his sweatshirt up towards her breasts so that he can brush against the swell of them.

“Beautiful.” He whispers, quickly returning back to her lips as they softly release a whimper from the detachment.

She tastes so good—a mix of bitter and sweet from her coffee, leaving his mouth wanting more and more with each passing second. And what was supposed to be innocent turned to lust before they knew it—their movements much more haste and impatient.

In the midst of their desperation, Harry pushes her hips further against the edge of the counter, fingers digging into her skin as his mouth parts open with hers. They both moan into one another, completely consumed by the feeling of their relentless hands and feverish kisses.

Her hands are against his stomach, rubbing along his torso when he hitches her legs around his waist, leaving Harry in control of whatever it is that’s unfolding. Her squeal turns into a moan when his hips collide with hers, the friction making her head spin and body yearn for more.

He feels her hands creep toward the waistband of his sweatpants while his hands bundle up the sweatshirt over her breasts so that they’re fully exposed to him—revealing the most delicate parts of her.

And right as his lips attach to the valley of them, the ringing of the telephone breaks them from their moment.

“H—Harry, the phone.” Y/n gasps.

But he shows no sign of stopping when his teeth sink into an already bruised hickie from the night before, leaving her with shaking fingers between his hair and withering from the soreness. And he really can’t stop, because she feels like no other and she’s so addicting in every way possible. He wants her all to himself.

The answering machine almost dissolves into pure background noise for the both of them, too caught up in the moment.

“Hi, Harry, it’s your mum.”

Only five words and Harry feels the air being knocked right out of his lungs—seizing all his movements and thoughts as Y/n is left completely confused and panting upon the kitchen counter.

"I know it’s been a while and a lot has ended quite messy, but your father does miss you and well—we all miss you, Harry. We would really love for you to come over for dinner tonight as a late Christmas celebration. You don’t have to, but we’ll have an extra seat for you. And—uh—I love you so much. I wish you the best. Please call me soon.”

It’s as if the world around him is spinning faster than ever before—his brain overwhelmed with scrambled thoughts and ears ringing from the anxiety.

There would have been nothing to prepare him for this moment. He never thought he’d ever see his father again—much less be invited back over to his house after everything that’s happened. It’s been so long, he genuinely thought it was over—he thought all of the pain and fear was over, but his biggest nightmare is coming to life and he feels sick to his stomach.

His father is why he’s like this—mute and anxious in social situations. If his dad hadn’t repeatedly torn him down for never being good enough—hadn’t made him believe nobody would ever talk to a little shy boy—he would have probably gained the confidence to speak the more he matured.

But because his father shunned him for being shy and never making any friends, Harry was terrified of what people would think of him if he ever did make friends. Because if his own father didn’t love him, how could anybody else?

Y/n notices the tears in his eyes and his shallow breathing, which she’s quick to mend when her hands reach up to his cheeks. They’re hot and flushed, but all for the wrong reasons.

She frowns, lips peppering small kisses along his face in an attempt to bring him back to her. She doesn’t know much—or really anything—about Harry’s family life; all she knows is that she has never seen a picture of them in his house or any validation that he ever truly had one.

But as she catches the glimpse of fear in his eyes and the small quivering of his lips, he knows very well that there must have been something that went wrong. And even if she doesn’t know what it is that he went through, she knows that if he decides to do this or not, she’ll be right there with him.

“You’re scared.” She whispers, thumbs rubbing against his cheeks softly. “What is it you’re afraid of, baby? Talk to me, please.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, his lips pursing together as loose tears fall from his eyes.

He’s never talked about his family problems and because all of this has happened so quickly, his words get trapped in his throat. To genuinely talk about his family and come to terms with his emotions seems all too much for him, especially when it’s hard for him to speak in the first place.

Y/n clicks her tongue while shaking her head softly, wrapping her around his neck as he nests his cheek into her shoulder. His muscles instantly relax in her arms and has a sense of clarity in her comfort, but there’s still an undeniable thumping in his chest that just can’t seem to go away.

“You don’t have to talk about this, love, but maybe this will be good for you. You know, to test the waters with your family. Maybe this could help you in the long run.”

And he wants to believe her—he really, really fucking wants to believe her—but he knows he can’t. Anywhere in his father’s path is detrimental to Harry’s social anxiety and he knows it’ll only make this worse for him in the long run.

“Y/n.” Harry groans, detaching her arms from his neck so that he can stand properly. His teeth are grit and eyes are distant—looking anywhere but her own and he swallows thickly around his words. “There’s a reason I don’t talk to anybody.”

His words are cracked and desperate—like a plea for Y/n to understand that this is different, that there will never be a day he’ll be able to face his problems. There have been too many times he’s found his way back and he always walks away with a damaged heart.

Y/n watches the way his fingers fiddle around one another and how he can’t stand still, it’s like watching the battle in Harry’s head and watching him fall apart from it.

And no matter how much she loves him now—the way he is now, even without much speaking—she doesn’t want to watch him suffer for the rest of his life. He’s the most undeserving man, he deserves the world and she knows he does.

His heart is nothing but pure and damaged—in need of mending and love. It’s the best part of him, really. It’s what brought them together and she feels the need to protect it at all costs.

He doesn’t feel it, though. He doesn’t feel what his heart has to offer and doesn’t see how it makes him so strong. He only sees himself as a ruin—a lost cause with nothing left to fight for, and he doesn’t deserve it. After what he’s been through, she needs him to understand that he is so much more than he thinks he is.

Because he is—he really is—no matter what he believes.

She holds his head in her hands to distract him from his consuming thoughts. His eyes shift in her gaze as he lets out a small breath.

“I just think it’ll be best to try again. I know—I see how hard it is for you to live the way that you do and I want to be here for you through everything. Things could be different this time—things could actually end well and you might be able to push through this. Because I know you, Harry, more than anybody else right now and I know you can push through this.”

She presses her forehead against his with a sigh leaving her lips, her thumbs running along his knuckles.

“And if there is any point you feel uncomfortable or upset, we can walk right out and leave. Just know that I will be there for you no matter what, okay? Just asking for you to try.”

It’s because she sounds so sure of herself that Harry actually agrees to go to the dinner. He knows that if it were a matter of him going alone, he would never even consider it. But knowing she is going to be right by his side—holding his hand through it all—maybe he doesn’t have to be so scared.

Maybe, it’ll actually be different this time.


It’s not different.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, it’s really not any different than he expected it to be.

Upon their arrival, Harry’s mum and sister nearly fainted from seeing him at the front door. They thought their invitation would go dismissed, like the way Harry’s ignored them for the past three years. But looking at him for the first time in what felt like forever, they were nothing short of thrilled.

And to make it even better, he brought a girl. Harry was holding her hand tightly, keeping her tucked right into his side so that he could feel her with every step he took.

Anne and Gemma swore they had never seen something so heartwarming in their life—to the point where tears sprung from their eyes and arms flinging around their bodies. Y/n didn’t even have to introduce herself properly for them to love and approve of her, anybody who gets Harry to open up—in any way possible—is enough for them.

He was calm when it was just the four of them, Harry watching Y/n hit it off with his family so effortlessly. He noticed the fondness in all their eyes and this was how he wanted it to be forever.

But once they sat down for dinner, Harry knew something was about to happen.

His father didn’t acknowledge neither him nor Y/n in the slightest. Instead, he acted as if they weren’t there and only carried conversations with the rest of his family. And Harry wasn’t sure if he preferred it that way or not—wasn’t sure if he’d rather have his father at least notice him and hate him or have his father neglect him.

Y/n was trying to make the best out of the situation and he could tell. She found her way to the conversations even if his father didn’t respond to her, and still remained her perky self while doing so. She seemed unfazed through it all, almost like she didn’t feel the overwhelming amount of tension that surrounded the room.

She does it for him, though. She knew that if she showed just how uncomfortable his father was making her—he’d never be able to survive this dinner. She had to play strong enough for his sake.

But now that dinner has passed by and all that’s left are empty plates of food and mindless mingling, Harry feels nothing short of uncomfortable and misplaced under his father’s glare. It’s as if he’s waiting for Harry to speak out in the conversation, or do much of anything to make his presence known.

Y/n can see the soft shaking of Harry’s head and can feel the sweat on his palms with each passing second—just waiting for the end of the night so that they can go home and be alone at last.

“You know, Y/n, I never thought Harry would have a girlfriend.”

It’s the first time tonight his father spoke to Y/n directly, making the conversation she was having with Gemma come to a pause as she looked over at him with confusion. There’s a small pout on her lips as she tilts her head in question, almost unsure as to what he was implying. He has no expression on his face, only a small scoff and disapproving look in his eyes.

“How so? He’s lovely, any girl would be very lucky to have him. I’m just happy it’s me who does.”

Her fingers squeeze his thigh under the tablecloth; as if to tell him that there’s nothing to worry about. If his father wants to try hard enough to get to Harry, he has to try to get through her, first.

His father grumbles, his eyes shifting away from hers. The tenseness is his body seems to lighten, though, when an almost sadistic laugh falls from his lips—finding whatever he’s thinking quite amusing and entertaining.

“Isn’t it disheartening? Doesn’t it get boring, to be with a little boy who can’t even get his mouth to open? You seem to be a very intelligent, mature lady—I can tell by the way you talk. Don’t you think it’s a man’s purpose to be with somebody like you?”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, trying to silence the sudden voices in his head and focus on the feel of Y/n’s tightening hand.

All the childhood fights, all the times Harry had crawled underneath his bed during the night to get away from it all, and all the times Harry almost had the guts to speak up for himself only to be shut down from his father are all replaying in Harry’s head.

The anxiety creeps to his bones and in his muscles, straining him of all that’s left of his strength and leaving him with nothing but a shaking body and lack of control. Every part of him that felt alive before all of this is slowly dying at the seems—ready to be ripped out on his father’s account.

In any other situation, Y/n would have kept her mouth shut if it meant getting the support and approval of Harry’s family. But this—the way he’s talking about Harry as if he’s not right next to her, disrespecting him for something beyond his control is just not okay with her.

She’d rather stand up for the man she loves and believes in instead of watching him suffer in silence—the way his mum and sister are—with fear.

“Harry may not be a man of many words, but he’s the best thing I’ve got. There is so much more to him than his voice. There is so much more to him than you will ever know because you decided to be a shit father and give up on him without giving him a chance. He holds so much more potential than you could ever see, and that’s what’s wrong here. Harry’s not the problem, him being mute is not the problem, it’s you. Because why is it that everybody else can accept him and love him for who he is besides you?!”

The aftermath of her words silences everything around them. Nobody moves, nobody dares makes a sound besides their harsh breathing, because there could be something that makes either one of them snap and nobody wants to be the one to do so.

Y/n’s hands are in fists upon the table, eyes locked with his in fury and jaw so tight she almost doesn’t even look like herself. She’s turned into an entirely different woman with just the thought of Harry getting into harm’s way.

And although Harry really wants to show her appreciation for her words, he’s too panicked that he’s going to die from not being able to fucking breathe.

The silence is overwhelming, but Y/n is not giving up on him—on Harry. He had to live through this for far too long and she’s not allowing it anymore. He deserves better than this treatment—deserves better than to be looked down upon by somebody who’s supposed to be his provider.

“He’s the best thing you’ve got, yeah?”

His father is playing with his bottom lip, eyes narrowed and eyes in the same unpleasant manner as before. His voice is softer, though, more understanding than before and they both don’t know what to expect out of the conversation.

Y/n nods without hesitation, “He is.”

He watches as Y/n looks more determined and positive as ever, not a doubt or a trace of a lie in her features.

She means it—with her whole heart—she means it and she’ll never let anybody make her go back on her word. And she doesn’t have to say it twice, because Harry knows she’s genuine when she says it.

“You must have a very pathetic life, then.”

Harry’s eyes don’t move from their trance on the table—his body doesn’t make a move under his words. This is just how it always ends, and he just don’t know why he still fucking comes back here every goddamn time.

His throat is tight and his eyes are filled with tears. His skin is full of sweat and he swears his heart is beating much faster than it should. And even though he’s experienced this all before, knowing Y/n is being belittled by his father too makes it worse.

"We’re done here.” Y/n says sternly, grabbing ahold of Harry’s hand.

Y/n could have stood up for Harry much more, but she knew that if she started an even bigger brawl than what was already unfolding, Harry wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

He’s already drained of color and crying silently within his lost mind, and she’s absolutely terrified for his health.

She’s nearly dragging him out the door, Harry occasionally tripping over his own feet as he’s being drowned with the voices and the thumping in his chest. The world around him seems to be drowning and he can’t keep up with it all.

He just can’t.

“You can’t only keep her around because she’s the only one that’ll fight your battles for you, Harry! It’s only a matter of time before she realizes that you have nothing to offer her! You can’t give her anything with the way you are. You’re worthless!”

Before he could spew any more insults in Harry’s way, Y/n shuts the door in his face.


Harry knows his father was right.

In the long run, he doesn’t have much to offer her. He can’t be the boyfriend that she deserves to have.

He can’t be the boyfriend that can remind her of how much she’s loved or cared for. He can’t be the boyfriend to sing her to sleep whenever she can’t, or be the boyfriend to say his vows at their wedding for all to hear. He can’t be the boyfriend that—God forbid something were to happen to her—can ask for somebody to help her, or be the boyfriend to sway her family’s heart.

He can’t be anything to her besides somebody that she can sleep with at night and wake up to in the morning. Because that’s all it will be, and she’ll get so tired of being the one to be the only one talking to the other.

He’s nothing in her life, and that’s exactly why he can’t look at her anymore.

“Can you please just say something to me, Harry? I need to know why you’re upset with me or else we can never work through this.”

But how can they work through this when he can’t talk to her the way she wants him to?

Instead of answering right away, Harry presses on the gas pedal even harder than before. In the mix of all his emotions—anger, frustration, sad, and absolutely terrified—the only proper thought that can retain in Harry’s mind is dropping Y/n back to her apartment so that she doesn’t have to keep torturing herself with him.

The longer he feels her presence next to him, the more he realizes that he can’t love her the way she deserves to be loved—even if he really, really, really does love her with every ounce of his being.

“It was only—“ He swallows thickly, “It was only a matter of time before this was going to happen, Y/n.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she turns her head over to Harry, who has his lips pursed in a straight line while his eyes remain on the road.

There’s something different in him, now—something unreadable in his expressions and it’s something she’s never seen before. He seems broken somehow, like a man who’s been damaged one too many times that he’s become numb—emotionless with nothing left to feel.

“Before what was going to happen, Harry?”

She has an idea about what his words meant, but she doesn’t want to believe it. Not coming from him—not coming from the man who’s shown her nothing but how much love he has for her. There’s no way he could be doing this to her. He can’t do this to her.

“We were never going to last, Y/n. This was over long ago, we’re just on borrowed time.”

Borrowed time.

The sound of it leaves an unusually disturbing churn in Y/n’s stomach and a foul taste in her mouth. She feels as though Harry is taking his own hand and digging into Y/n’s chest, just so that he can grab ahold of Y/n’s heart and rip it to shreds himself.

Her hand subconsciously grabs onto the handle of the car door, eyes glistening with tears and lungs not daring to breathe. The air—instead of it being filled with their love—is now thicker and colder than ever.

She’s never been so confused—so lead on and so scared as to what is happening to them. They were supposed to make this last, they were supposed to make each other happy for the rest of their lives. He promised her he would, too—promised her nothing but love and trust in him.

But what is happening to them?

“How long have you thought that?”

She was tentative to ask, but she just has to know. She has to know if she’s done everything she’s done for nothing or if it actually held some sort of purpose at the time.

She’s terrified beyond words to find out the answer.

“Before or after you decided to sleep with me?”

Harry doesn’t want to make it seem like he never wanted this—never wanted her. He doesn’t want to make her think that he went through all that he did with her just to expect them to break up so soon. Because he didn’t, he never did. He would have never let her give him her virginity if he knew all of this was going to happen.

He loves her too much to do that to her, but also loves her enough to set her free.

So he decides to not answer her because not saying anything at all is easier for him than saying something he doesn’t mean. And he knows he will if it means letting her go and letting her move onto bigger and better things.

And it’s in his silence and twitch of his eyes does she find his answer.

“So you didn’t mean what you said last night. That we fit perfectly—that it’s like we’re meant to be? Or were they just words to you?”

A sob rips from inside of her when he still gives her nothing. She has never felt so hurt before—has never felt so betrayed. And suddenly, her skin feels dirty—sickened by what he’s done to her and how she could have been so stupid as to let it happen.

She feels it now, too. She feels the way his hands touched her that night, the way his lips kissed her that night, the way his hips rutted against hers and she feels so fucking filthy—used and used and used just for his own personal gain.

“Stop the car.”

It’s a weak demand, but Harry is pained to hear it. He has to hold himself back from comforting her and saying how terribly sorry he is for lying to her the way he is. But it’s just easier this way.

“I said stop the fucking car, Harry!”

Her yelling makes him flinch, and without hesitation makes him pull over to the side of the road. And the second he does so, he knows he shouldn’t have because he’d never be able to live with himself if he let Y/n walk in the cold alone, especially at night.

And right as he’s about to turn back, the sound of her hysteria makes his stop everything he’s doing. Her sobs are relentless in her hands and the thickest of tears fall from Harry’s eyes when he looks at the damage he’s done.

She looks helpless and utterly destroyed—he would have never thought of doing this to her if he’d known this is what would come out of it.

His heart is breaking at the sight of her like this.

As if on instinct, Harry reaches his hand over to her shoulder in an attempt to keep her calm. And even when they’re so close, they have never felt more emotionally distant than they do right now.

“No! Don’t touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”

She isn’t sure if she means it or not, but the devastating look Harry gives her at her words proves that he knows she did.

The second his touch leaves hers, he feels them falling apart.

It really is over now.

She’s never felt more pathetic and humiliated in her life. Everything she thought was so real ended up being one of the biggest lies she’s ever lived. He had her fooled for months now and she had not a single clue—but she guesses that’s what happens when she falls in love too quickly.

She feels easy.

She swallows her cries as she opens the car door, not knowing where the hell she is or where the hell she’s going, but knowing that no matter where she ends up, it’ll be much better than being with him. 

“I hate you. I never want to see you again, not after this. Not after all that you’ve done to me.”

Harry’s eyes widen at her words, mouth falling open and a gasp falling from his lips. The reality of her words hits him with so much force that he genuinely feels every last bit of him fall apart.

And it’s when she walks away from him—from his life—that he breaks.

He chokes out a sob as his fingers grip the steering wheel, eyes as wide as ever and mouth not daring to shut.

Everything hurts. Every bone in his body feels like it’s breaking and every muscle feels like they’re tearing apart. It hurts so fucking much and Harry can’t stop crying, throwing his head back against the car seat as his hand hits the steering wheel in the midst of his hysteria.

She hates him.

But it’s better this way.

Promise*

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Rating: Explicit - 18+ only
Summary: Reader, being reckless gets hurt on a mission. Days later, when she gives her final report to her boyfriend Steve, it provokes an argument between them.
Word Count: 3.5k
Genre: general fiction containing explicit sexual content.
Warnings: argument, mild swearing, mentions of death. NSFW/SMUT: makeup sex, praise kink, soft dirty talking, nipple play, oral sex (female receiving), slow fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, and semi-protected sex. - This fic assumes Reader is on the pill. [Cover your stone before you bone!]
Author’s Note: especially written for @always-an-evans-addict‘s writing challenge. I hope you like this one, sweetie.

   New Avengers Facility

“Steve, you read my report and Wanda told you what happened. That’s it. Can’t we just move on?”

“That’s it? That’s it?!”

Behind the closed door of your boyfriend’s office, you uncomfortably explained yourself, keeping in mind that people around you could probably sense the walls vibrating under the force of your voices.

You’d never thought that blowing out the last Hydra base found in Argentina would provoke such a drama within the team, or between you and the super soldier. Usually, you and Steve argued about the group’s mistake, not yours. When the incident happened in South America, you realized that if Wanda hadn’t been there, you probably wouldn’t be alive today.

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Flirt (Intro)

intro one two three four
genre:
fuckboy!jungkook, college!au, smut?, angst?
words: 1.9k
member: jungkook (ft. taehyung)

despising jeon jungkook as he hooks up and steals your best friend away from you. 

(credits to gif owner for the gif that kills all)

Originally posted by bangtanofarmys

Jeon Jungkook.

The man who every girl on campus had an eye on, along with his crew of other fuckboys. He would show up on campus with different girls everytime, wrapping their arms around his frame, “claiming him”.

You despised him though, because his next target was your best friend.

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“JUNHUI SENT A VIDEO” ੭ JUNHUI

Contains :  bestfriend!junhui, SMUT !  

Group : SEVENTEEN

Member : Jun/Wen Junhui

Words : + 2,8k

Summary : Junhui was a cocky guy, that was for sure, but you never thought that he was that cocky, as you glare at your phone screen, a shaky finger pressing on the imagine of his smooth torso, his hand wrapped around his cock.

Originally posted by indigyu

A/N : For all my babies suffering from the lack of seventeen smut, there you go ! + I’m writing this now instead of after my exams because I was revising and my friend sent me the video of Jun dancing to Who and yeah I couldn’t.
+ someone told me it was similar to other smuts and yes it is, I red other writings with the same plot so this smut is inspired by them


[11:06] you : jun, leave me alone

A sigh left your lips as you placed your phone beside you, trying to focus on the papers all over your desk. Fingertips rubbing your temples, you closed your eyes, trying to remember the things you were reading a few moments before. You hated it, you hated having to learn things by heart, just to recite everything like a robot in front of a teacher, as if it would prove that you were intelligent or something.

On top of that, your best friend was texting you non stop. You were already a pretty distracted person, but with him making your phone buzz every minute, it was even worst. He was a year above you, and didn’t have to pass any exams. His school year was over, and he was celebrating it tonight, in a party thrown by someone from his class.

But apparently, the party wasn’t that amazing, since it seemed like he wasn’t leaving his phone to go grind on some girl.

 [11:07] junhui : talk to meeeee :(
[11:07] you : omg jun why are you like this, leave me alone
[11:08] junhui : its boring without you :(

A laugh escaped your lips, he was probably at least a bit tipsy. See, Jun was your best friend, but you both had this thing were you acted like you hated each other. But when alcohol was running in his system, Jun was the first to spill his feelings, and it was always so rewarding to see his face the day after when you red him his drunk texts.

[11:08] you : you know i have my last test soon
[11:08] you : are you already drunk ? its not even midnight omg
[11:09] junhui : no shit i fucking know you have a test
[11:09] junhui : i cant believe you left me like that

You rolled your eyes at his text, before typing. Yeah, you could understand him. You two were ready to leave, because you were supposed to go with him, but you decided to stay at the last minute, quickly leaving your tight dress for your large pyjama shirt.
Jun had tried to convince you to go with him, after all, the test was only in a week, but you didn’t want to waste time partying while you could use this time to work.

[11:10] you : dont be like this, you know its an important test
[11:10] you : go dance or something, we’ll have all summer to party together
[11:11] junhui : i dont want to dance :( :( :(
[11:11] you : yOU’RE SO ANNOYING JUGNDHGU
[11:11] you : im gonna study byyye

For a moment, the boy stopped texting you, and you thought that maybe he was finally dancing and having some fun. Going back to your notes, you tried to memorize everything, repeating the important points to yourself.
A tired smile stretched your lips when you finally got everything right, moving to the next text. Rolling your eyes, you groaned, seeing how long the plan you had to memorize was, and how depressing the text was, talking about how Humans were damned no matter what.

You took a deep breath, sitting comfortably before starting reading every point, then, your phone buzzed again.

[11:25] junhui : hi
[11:26] junhui : answer me
[11:27] junhui : y/n
[11:27] junhui : :(
[11:28] junhui : i wont stop until you answer
[11:29] junhui : thats the worst party ive ever seen
[11:30] junhui : and i cant even leave because mingyu is the one driving
[11:30] junhui : plus im kind of drunk
[11:30] junhui : wow i cant believe you did this to me
[11:31] you : omg wen junhui ill kill you

You sighed, he wasn’t going to leave you alone, you had to navigate between answering him and revising, rolling your eyes, maybe going to the party was a better idea.

[11:31] junhui : i like when you call me by my full name thats hot
[11:31] you : wtf you have weird kinks
[11:32] junhui : wow cant believe my best friend is shaming me for my kinks !
[11:33] you : find mingyu, maybe he will drive you home
[11:33] junhui : nah i saw him going upstairs with some random girl
[11:34] you : gross
[11:34] junhui : i cant believe u did this to me
[11:35] you : omfg junhui how many times are you going to say that ?
[11:35] junhui : until you apologize ???
[11:36] you : fuck you this exam is more important than an obviously shitty party

You breathed, all your focus now on the coversation with your best friend. He would distract you anyway, and you wouldn’t be able to get any work done, so what was the point. Giving a last look at the pile of paper, you moved from your desk to your bed, trying to find a decently cold spot.

[11:37] junhui : ohmy god your test is in a fucking week
[11:38] you : fuck its just a party why are you getting mad about it ?
[11:38] junhui : because
[11:39] you : you’re a child
[11:39] junhui : whatever
[11:40] you : omg

You growned, dropping your phone on your side, your arm resting on your eyes. He didn’t respond, and it was for the best, when Jun was drunk, he could either be super whiny for nothing, or super angry for nothing, and you would rather stop talking to him for the night than have a conversation with an angry stubborn guy.

The summer night was growing hotter, your shirt starting to stick to your body. Tugging at it to let some air hit your skin, you thought for a moment that Jun finally gave up, maybe finding someone to drive him home.

[11:55] junhui : im in the bathroom
[11:57] you : k
[11:57] junhui : i have a boner
[11:58] you : dID I ASK

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, drunk Jun could be either way super whiny, super angry or super horny, yeah you forgot about that.
See, another thing in your friendship was how comfortable both of you were when it came to sex. Junhui was already super comfortable talking about it, and so, you grew more and more confident talking about it with him. That was one of the few things you were grateful for.

[11:59] you : go get some girl to grind on i’m studying

You lied, hoping and praying god that you couldn’t have to deal with a drunk and horny Junhui.
A few moments passed, and again, you thought that he was out of the bathroom dancing on some girl, because you knew that a lot of them were willing to do it. It wasn’t news that Junhui was pretty popular, his delicate features and sweet voice were enough for a lot of girls, but he also had amazing hands, and those thighs, god, the result of years of dancing.
In addition to all of this, the way his hips moved was sinful. You remember seeing him dancing to one the songs he made with his friends, his hips moving slowly, his hand resting on his thigh, so close to his crotch.

Yeah, these were one of these days where you asked yourself, how the fuck do I even contain myself. 

After moving his hips, you remember his eyes finding yours before he started body rolling, his shoulders broad, toned stomach moving.
And it wasn’t all, the choregraphy continued again until his hands made contact with the floor, supporting himself as he fucking grinded on the floor, powerful thrusts over the floor, and you cursed under your breath.

You couldn’t admit it to yourself, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how his body moved, and you blamed it on sexual frustration, yeah that was it.

But more and more, your breath strated inching everytime he got closer, or when his hands got too adventurous, because he also wasn’t helping it.
But soon, you convinced yourself that you couldn’t think about your best friend in such ways, it was weird. You were making it weird at least.

[00:05] junhui : sent a video

Your thoughts got cut by the sound of your phone, your hand grabbing it before tracing your password, and your fucking mind went blank.

Your eyes stayed glued to your screen, blinking a few times, before checking again the name of the contact, yeah that was Jun.
Your troath was dry, and you tried to swallow the built of saliva.

The thumbnail was enough to leave you breathless, and even more sweaty.

Fuck, what was that for ?

You unconsciously licked your lips, your eyes fixed on the image.

Jun’s was sitting in what looked like a bathroom, his black jeans tugged to the middle of his muscular thighs, his black shirt riding up, revealing a parcel of his skin. His hand was wrapped around his cock, tip already red, several rings hugging his fingers. You couldn’t see his face, the image cut to his sweaty neck, but you could understand that his head was thrown back.

You cursed under your breath, a shaky finger pressing on the message, the image filling your screen before starting.
And it started right away, the boy’s hand slowly pumping up and down, his thumb stopping to collect the drop of precum. Touching his sensitive head, you heard a hiss, your mouth falling agape, waiting for more, and it stopped.

Your eyes widen, still locked on the screen, before catching the small three dots on your phone.

[00:06] junhui : fuck, im so hard
[00:06] junhui : help me

You looked up from your screen, as if someone would suddently appear at the end of your bed to help you in this situation.
Your heart was pounding, what the fuck were you supposed to do ? He sent it like it was the most normal thing to do.

And fuck, you wanted to run away from your phone and hide, but on the other hand, your eyes were still glued to the small picture, your mind replaying the faint hiss.

[00:07] junhui : y/n
[00:08] you : you can’t send things like that omg
[00:08] junhui : omfg its okay youre my best friend
[00:08] junhui : just help me
[00:08] junhui : please

“Best friends”, was that a common thing to send nudes to your best friend ? You took a deep breath, before typing again, what the fuck were you getting yourself into.

[00:09] you : what the fuck do you want me to do
[00:09] you : you have a fucking boner its not my fault youre a horny fuck
[00:10] junhui : sent a vocal

You rolled your eyes, taking your headphones before playing the audio, and your heart sank. It started with a clear, deep moan, you could hear that he was trying to stay quiet, before muffling it, the sound of his hand moving in the background was faint, and he started talking. God, his voice was raspy, low, breathless, “What do you mean it’s not your fault ? I have a fucking boner because of you, fuck- That dress looked so good on you.”

Your breath grew uneven, catching your lip between your teeth. A breathy moan fell from his lips, probably picturing you in the dress you were wearing earlier, “And fuck- d-did you really have to start taking it off in front of me ?” You couldn’t help but smile as you remembered taking the straps off in front of him, letting him see a bit of your bra, but you couldn’t imagine that it had such and effect on him.

“God, please, send something, a picture, anything, I don’t care.”, he moaned, before ending the audio. You eyes widen, a picture ? Fuck, you wanted to continue whatever was going on, feeling the familiar discomfort between your legs but you really didn’t know how to take it.

Eventually, you moved your phone, stretching your arm above your head, opening the camera. Your moved to lay on your back, bending your knee up as your other hand tugged your shirt upwards, enough to show the right of your bra and your panties.

It was the exact same bra that Jun saw as you took your dress off earlier, the lacy black bra un panties hugging your body. You quickly took the picture, cutting it after your lips, your lower lip rosy after biting it, and you sent it.

[00:14] you : sent a picture

Biting your lip, you waited for his responce.

[00:15] junhui : fuck, you look so good
[00:16] junhui : sent a video

And this time, you didn’t hesitate to open the video, your breath stopping. Fuck, if he was touching himself while looking at a picture of you, you could to that too, right ? Your hand traveled down your stomach, letting your finger press on your clit, a gasp leaving your lips.
Keeping your eyes open, you watched as the video opened on your phone, Jun’s hand moving faster this time, and holy shit, he looked so big.
His tip was red, a groan coming from his chest as he moved the phone and,

“Oh my god.”, you cursed under your breath as you took your panties off, your digit spreading your wetness. You gasped as Jun moved the phone so you were able to fully see his hand pumping his cock and his face, and god, he look amazing.

His lower lip between his teeth, looking straight at his camera through the locks of his back hair. His mouth suddently fell open with a silent moan as his head fell backwards, letting you see his Adam’s Apple bobbing and the video ended.

Fuck, you were keeping those videos, for scientific reasons.

[00:18] junhui : are you touching yourself ?

Your finger started rubbing your clit, trying your best to reply, but you didn’t even know how, so you took another picture. Quickly opening the camera, you took another one in the same position, your hand clearly visible in the shot.

[00:18] you : sent a picture
[00:19] junhui : i knew it
[00:19] junhui : fuck, i wish you were here

And then, out of nowhere, your phone rang.

You didn’t hesitate long before you accepted the call, placing your phone on your pillow beside your head.

“Y/N.”, he breathed as your finger started to work faster.

“Jun.”, you wanted your voice to be as quiet as his, but it came out in a moan.

“Fuck, why did you have to stay home.”, he gasped, breathless.

“Why did you have to go to this party.”, you replied.

“Whatever, be fucking prepared when I come home.”, a broken moan fell from his lips as you cursed under your breath, your imagination running wild. You allowed a finger to enter your heat, your digit easily sliding in. You moaned, your other hand gripping your sheet.

“God, I couldn’t stop thinking about you in that dress.”, the sound of skin clapping grew quicker as he continued, “I wish I could feel your lips around me.”, he gasped, before continuing, “You’re going to let me fuck your mouth when I come home, won’t you ?”

You moaned, his words hitting your core, but he wasn’t having it, his cocky self coming back. “Words.”

You opened your mouth, breathing heavely before answering, “Yes.”

“Yeah.”, and he laughed out of pleasure, the sound ringing in your ears, adding another finger.

“I’ll make you feel so good.”, he purred, a long moan tumbling from his lips. “You’re touching yourself, right babygirl ? Fuck yourself with your fingers, curl them, imagine my fingers instand of yours.”, he rasped, clearly reaching his climax as he was finding it hard to talk.

And you did, curling your fingers and moving faster, picturing your best friend between your legs, your hips bucking against your hand.
Your moans grew higher, more and more frequent as you moved your hips.

“Are you gonna cum ?”, he asked, breathless, groaning as he tried to wait for you.

“Jun.”, you moaned, unable to give him an answer, feeling the knot in your stomach ready to explode.

“God, I can’t wait to be inside you.”, he cooed, a broken moan filling your ears. “Come for me.”

And that’s all you needed, moaned, your back arching, a clear layer of sweat near your collarbones. Collapsing, you tried to catch your breath, closing your eyes, trying to focus on what was going on on the other side.

A series of curse words mixed with your name tumbled from his lips, before he came on a long moan, gasping every now and then.

“Fuck, fuck.”, he cursed, trying to process everything, before letting a long sigh.

Both of you stayed silent for a moment, before Jun moved the phone, before speaking in a breathless voice.

“Wait for me, I’ll be here soon.”

break the ice, 1

Pairing:  jungkook x reader x jimin
Genre: sports au, hockey player jungkook & jimin, smut, comedy?, slight angst, fluff too :’)
Warnings: thigh riding, sexting, phone sex, pillow riding
Word Count:  18k
Summary:

There are three rules to become an official Puck Bunny:
1.     You have to love hockey. No exceptions.
2.     You have to had slept with at least three hockey players. Starters, no benchwarmers.
3.     And most importantly, have fun!

A/N: i wanted this to be a oneshot but i kept adding and adding more :( …
anyway… enjoy part 1!!

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On Supergirl and Homophobia

I am seeing a lot of posts saying how calling out what happened at SDCC as homophobic is ‘ridiculous’. I’d like to address first the scope of what homophobia is, then move onto how the incident was driven by homophobia. 

Definitions:

When you hear the term homophobia, it conjures up images of assault or of slurs being thrown out in the open. This is often not the case. Incidences of homophobia can range from the above to smaller instances that make you question whether of not you’re being ‘hysterical’ or ‘dramatic’ for thinking you’re being discriminated against or not. Merriam-Webster defines homophobia as: irrational fear of, aversion to, or discrimination against homosexuality or homosexuals. 

Keep reading

Best Friends and Barely There Clothing

Helloooo lovies! So this is my first imagine on this blog, and I do hope you enjoy it! I will be posting lots of imagines and blurbs etc. regarding Harry, and most will contain smut! But I will of course have writings that are just pure fluff as well! Enjoy this one!

Warnings: Smut & Language

Word Count: 3k

“Don’ tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Having a baby with you?” You asked breathlessly, your eyes falling closed as Harry began to move your hips over his bulge, causing you to let out a quiet whimper as the fabric of his jeans rubbed through the thin lace material covering your clit.

“No love,” he let out a throaty laugh, his eyes moving down to where you two were currently grinding against one another, “Don’ know why I was thinkin’ of havin’ a baby, really… was mainly just thinking about sinking my cock inside of ya, pet.”

Your eyes snapped open as the words left his mouth as you pressed your clit down against him to gain even more friction as his words literally caused you to throb at the thought, “Harry…” you whimpered quietly, your fingers now gripping onto his tshirt tightly.

“Do you wan’ tha’?” His accent was thicker than you had ever heard before as you stared into his darkening eyes, and all you could do was nod your head and let out a breathy sigh of agreement along with it. Somewhere among your exchange of words, Harry’s hand had slipped into your panties and his finger was slowly moving around your clit, but not quite applying the pressure you were currently craving; he was going to make you beg for it.

OR the one where Harry really can’t stop thinking about the act of making babies with his best friend, and he’s tired of her slinking around his house wearing barely anything.


“Would ya ever have a baby with me?” The words slipped past his lips casually, his eyes trained on you as he brought the wine glass that was in his hands to a rest on the coffee table in front of you two.

“Excuse me?” You all but choked as the words registered, the wine that was gracefully slipping down your throat coming to an abrupt stop and getting stuck in your vocal pipes, causing you to cough for a few seconds as you worked it out. Your sea green eyes flicked up to his emerald ones, squinting as he watched you with amusement, a small smirk playing on his lips as he captured his bottom one between his thumb and forefinger.

Harry was your best friend. Harry had been your best friend for almost 6 years now, and you had been by his side almost every step of his career, cheering him on and encouraging him to take leaps he was too afraid of. But you were only best friends… why would a baby together ever cross his mind? You two may have shared one or two (or ten or twenty) drunken kisses on nights when you stumbled into one another’s flat, coats being haphazardly thrown to the floor and lips meeting in a sloppy goodnight as you both fell onto whomevers bed you had chosen for the night before passing out, but that was it.

“What? Not weird to think about having a baby with ya best friend, is it?” His smirk was only getting wider as you let out an exasperated breath, your eyes narrowing to slits as you decided to place your wine glass on the table next to his.

“S'just….” he continued, refusing to break eye contact, “What if m'not married by the time I’m 30. Ya know more than anyone I wanna have kids… so if m'not married and you’re not… would ya have a baby with me?”

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