between the harshness of their words and the gentleness of their touches

{PART 26} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Jungkook attempts to do the impossible; keep Yoongi under control for as long as he can in his own Manor. But, after an unsuspecting escalation - everything ends in tears…and blood.

“How sobering it is, to love something that evil can corrupt”

  • || Warning: This chapter contains violence and some scenes that readers may find upsetting ||

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time) 

{Part 1} // {Part 25} {Part 26} {Part 27}

Keep reading

You’re In Love With Him But He Likes Your Best Friend: Part 2

A/N: This is a filler chapter. Meaning, this is much shorter than part 1. Do not feel dishearted, there will be a longer, more detailed part 3. 

Part 1

Masterlist linked in bio.



“Are you ever going to speak to me?”

Y/n freezes as she hears Harry’s voice ask her the question she’s been dreading to answer.

It’s been two weeks since she’s heard that voice. It may sound rougher now, more stern and harsh than it normally is as it growls behind her at the counter of Lexi’s bar, but it’s still the first time she’s heard it in two weeks.

After her sober confessions to a very tipsy, slumberous Harry, Y/n had to understand what it truly meant to move on.

At first, she thought she would still be able to be around him as she searched for ways to rid her feelings. She distracted herself, mostly. She would interact more with Savannah than she would Harry, and even started picking up new habits whenever she felt her emotions creeping in. Anything that reminded her of him was disregarded entirely so that the only time he was able to consume her thoughts was whenever he was near her.

For the first couple weeks, she was holding up quite well, considering the circumstances. She was able to contain her emotions and take her mind off of the raging heartache that kept burning in her chest.

But it wasn’t much long after that night when Savannah and Harry finally became official, and if Y/n wasn’t anguished before, she surely was then. She was forced to witness the transition of their relationship in hindsight. What was once casual flirting and innocent touches turned into secretive giggles and loving hand gestures.

It was as if her heart broke all over again. What seemed to be almost completely mended was destructed all at once. The chase between Harry and Savannah was over, and reality set in that Harry was happy and in love with someone that wasn’t Y/n.

Watching them together was Y/n’s most devastating nightmare, and the thought of that alone meant she couldn’t mentally handle being alone anymore. With all of the emotions built up inside of her, being alone for Y/n meant enduring the pain and suffering she didn’t want to feel anymore. She just wanted it all to end, everything.

The earliest hours of the morning wrecked her the most. With only the moon illuminating the room and the radio silence throughout her house gave Y/n no choice but to be alone with her thoughts. She wasn’t loved, and no matter how many nights she’s tried to convince herself that this wasn’t the end, it was.

She had to let Harry go, completely this time. She gave up on him entirely because she couldn’t keep loving him when he didn’t love her. Not anymore, not like that.

She keeps her back to him as he heaves heavy breaths, eyes sending daggers and teeth clenched from his crippling frustration. 

“It’s Thursday, I see,” Harry grumbles before giving her the chance to answer, jaw locked as his fingers grip harshly around a stray, unfinished glass of alcohol. “You never work Thursdays. ’S this where your Friday shifts went?”

There’s an unpleasantly rough tone in his voice that makes Y/n’s breath hitch in her throat. She’s never witnessed this side of him, filled with anger and exasperation. He’s always been so soft and gentle, never having the heart to speak down to someone. But here he is, eyes dark with anger and words spewing venomously from his lips.

And as much she hates to admit it, she can’t blame him for being so angry with her. She knows she means the most to him—even if it’s not in a romantic sense—she’s become such an important part of his life. Ever since they met, she took in the truth about his past, understood the feelings and thoughts he’s carried all through his years, and was able to provide him with anything she was able to when he needed her most. She was one of the very few people he trusted and felt most comfortable with in his life. She was irreplaceable, he’d always tell her, nobody could compare to her. She meant everything.

And then, she left him. She distanced herself so far away from him until it was as if she was never apart of his life. She ignored him and all his attempts to reach out to her again. It hurt her tremendously, knowing that what they had together was completely and utterly helpless, but she never questioned how Harry felt about it. She did what was easiest for her and never thought about it twice. She left him so that he can be happy, but as he stands so tensely and confused before her, she can’t help but blame herself what’s happened between them.

She nods her head softly, still refusing to look up at him as she gathers all the used glasses in front of her, making herself seem distracted so she doesn’t have to make much effort into speaking to him.

“I—uh, yeah. Friday nights were getting hectic and I couldn’t keep up with the late hours. I thought Savannah told you.”

It’s a lie. A shitty, impulsive lie that Harry almost finds humorous. Of course, Y/n switched her Friday night shift. She felt as if she had no choice. She couldn’t bare to look at him with Savannah another goddamn second, and he thought of spending Friday nights with Harry without being alone with him and going to the 24-hour movie theater together was enough to make her sick to her stomach.

“She did,” he clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing as he watches her scramble around the bar, “didn’t have to, though. I knew she was lying.”

Y/n’s actions halt for a moment, a feeling of dread flowing in her veins before she goes back to cleaning off the bar, disregarded his statement completely.

Harry knows Y/n’s been avoiding him, she hasn’t exactly made it as subtle as she thought. Their entire friendship changed, and Harry knows he wasn’t the one ruining it.

The morning after Y/n drove Harry back from the bar, all he could really remember clearly was falling asleep with Y/n. There were other bits he remembered, but that was really the only moment that came to him when he woke up. And he was confused when he woke up alone because, in all honesty, he was looking forward to waking up next to her. It was all his drunk mind thought of, and that terrified him.

When Y/n started distancing herself from him, Harry kept wondering what he had done wrong. She was fine with Savannah, keeping up with their lives as usual. But she was different with Harry—closed off, in a way, and it made him feel something he’s never felt in his life before.

He was confused, to say the least. Because when he was kissing down the bare chest of the woman of his dreams, he couldn’t stop daydreaming about Y/n, and how he hasn’t heard her voice and how he hasn’t felt her in so long.

He had Savannah wrapped around his finger, yet he still felt as if everything about it was wrong. He changed when Y/n left him, because even when he was around the most loving company, he felt alone.

He was helpless. As much as he tried to love Savannah, Y/n was always in the back of his head. She was there, all the time, trapped in his mind with no escape route. 

At first, he was confused—upset and lost without Y/n. He didn’t know life without her would feel so lonely, so empty and incomplete. It was strange, not knowing how to live his life without her. He’d never expected her disappearance to be such a hindrance to him, but it was. Oh, how it was.

Then, he was angry—angry because as many times as he tried to get her to speak to him again, she never came back. She was gone, forever.

Now, he’s hurt. So damaged by her leaving his side, so incomplete and destroyed without her with him anymore. His heart is heavy with sadness and he couldn’t let himself feel this way anymore. 

He needs her, no matter how wrong and pathetic it sounds, he needs her. 

“So you gonna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me, or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” he seethes, nose flaring as he tries to steady his uneven breath.

Y/n shakes her head ignorantly, a flash on innocence in her eyes as she does so. But she damn knows well what he’s talking about, and her oblivion drives him crazy.

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking ab—“

“Oh, fuck off with it!” Harry spits, slamming his closed fist down on the wooden counter.

He doesn’t seem to care about how sudden the bar falls silent, or the glisten of fear in Y/n’s eyes when she finally looks up at him. All he can seem to care about is how much pain he feels, all over. All he can think about is how now, after the last two weeks of not being able to understand why he cares so goddamn much, he’s finally able to feel some sense of sanity being in front of her now.

“You know what you’re doing to me, Y/n! You know damn fucking well what you’re fucking doing and—“

“Harry, please.” Y/n whispers and she isn’t sure as to whether or not she’s begging him to lower his voice or begging for him to understand.

“And it’s not fair!” he cries out, tears of frustration overflowing from his eyes as he grips tightly onto his hair.

His breaking point is approaching, he feels it. He feels it with every breath he takes and every word that emits from his mouth. His heart twists and breaks as he expresses every feeling that’s been consuming him for the past two weeks. He needs her to know what she’s doing to him, needs her to know how he feels in this moment.

“I did nothing to you and you keep pushing me away and that’s not fair because I don’t know how to live without you. Isn’t that something?! I don’t know what to do without you, and you know that!”

Suddenly, his head falls in his hands as he begins to sob. Complete heart-wrenching sobs, making his chest tight and breathing shallow.

Y/n reaches her hand out for him, her fingers clasping harshly around his wrist. Her own eyes start to brim with tears as she watches him sob below her, his body shaking with undying cries. She swallows harshly when he grabs ahold of her hand, bringing her palm against his forehead. His lips reach to kiss her wrist softly, quickly refraining from keeping them there longer.

To touch her, for the first time, is every answer he needs. She’s the only one to make him feel this way—she’s the only one to drive him to the brink of insanity and resurface him back to clarity. She has power over him he never understood until now, after he’s lost her.

“I don’t know why it hurts this much, Y/n,” He cries, his eyes squeezing shut as he inhales sharply, “I’ve never been more confused in my life.”

She chokes on her cries as she nods her head softly, her free hand reaching up to rake her fingers through his hair. Her lips shake from their craving to touch him, watching as he weakens beneath her. 

She’s missed him, in the most desperate of ways. She’s missed every part of him, and every atom in her body yearned to feel him again. Whether it was to feel the warmth of him from a distance or to feel his skin ignite her, she wanted every part of him against her. If she wasn’t with him, she was missing him, and craving him with every breath she took. 

Her lips press tentatively to his forehead, her breath fanning through his hair as she does so. The action is quick, leaving just as quickly as it comes, but it carries sentimental meaning for the both of them.

Harry frowns, his heart thumping in his chest. He looks up into her eyes, filled with concern and sanity as she maps his features.

“It’s been ever since me and Savannah got together.” He mumbles, eyes watching her face as it pales slightly at his words. “You haven’t spoken to me since.”

Her eyes flutter shut as he speaks, finding it completely pointless to try and make him believe otherwise. He deserves to know, one way or another, and even if it’s now, she feels like she’s already lost him. There isn’t much she’d be losing now, anyways. He was never hers.

“Please leave, Harry.” She whispers.

She backs away from him, her touch leaving him was like a gunshot to his chest. It’s a feeling he’s felt all too much that he can’t bare to feel again. 

His heart breaks as he watches her begin to cry, her usual glistening eyes now filled with tears of sorrow. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he tentatively takes a step closer to her.

He’s desperate, and he doesn’t care how weak he seems. He’s desperate to see where he’s missed it all along, to know how long he’s been making her feel this way. He’ll never forgive himself for all the pain he’s caused her, for all her nights alone when all she wanted was to be with him.

He could have done so much to change this. If he had just listened to his heart from the beginning, this would all be different now. If he hadn’t been so blind, they would both be happy right now.

“Love, I—“

“Don’t.” she whispers, her voice cracking as she speaks, “Please, don’t.“

She isn’t exactly sure what she’s saying—isn’t quite sure what she’s begging him not to do. Maybe it’s the nickname he’s always called her that makes her stomach twist a bit more, or how he’s trying to make her feel better that makes her eyes sting with a fresh new wave of tears, or how he looks at her now the way he never did before that makes her throat tighten around a sob. Whatever it is that makes her beg, she can’t  handle it anymore.

“I’m trying, Y/n,” He whispers, “please.”

“Please just—“ her eyes flutter shut as she speaks, “just leave me alone.”

Harry lets out an unsteady breath, his green eyes brimmed with red as he watches her begin to sob. 

He nods, because he can’t let himself keep doing this to her. If he keeps trying with her in her current state of mind, she won’t be able to think properly. She’ll be a wreck, more so than she is now, and he can’t find it in his heart to do that. Even if it means fighting for her.

“It’s not worth it, you know.” He whispers, his eyes staring lovingly into hers, “Being with her, it’s not worth it if it means losing you.”

Whiteboard. Destiel, canon!verse, 1.3k. 
When you fail to say the words, there’s always the option to write it down.

For a while now, there has been a whiteboard in Dean’s room.

Cas often sees Dean use it; to organize clues for cases that he and Sam can’t quite solve, and to write down reminders, or to simply rearrange his thoughts. And, on rare occasions, to draw silly doodles to help him get his mind off of whatever supernatural disaster is next on the agenda.

Currently, aforementioned board is empty though, and Cas stares a hole in it, sitting on Dean’s bed, arms wrapped around his knees, his chin resting on his hands. Dean is there too, right beside him, lying on the other side of the bed, his back to Castiel, his shoulders tense. There might as well be some sort of invisible wall between them, and Cas absolutely hates it. Hates it whenever they fight like this, and what makes it even worse is that Dean refuses to talk. Whenever they have an argument he’ll snap at Castiel, once maybe twice, but after that, it’s usually the silent treatment.

And it makes Castiel feel powerless every time, because how can you fix something when you don’t even get a chance to plead your case?

Dean isn’t sleeping, Cas can tell from his breathing, harsh and uneven. Which must mean that Dean doesn’t like this either, and just like that, inspiration strikes.

“Dean?” Cas mutters quietly, but not unkindly.

A grunt from the other side of the bed.

“I know you’re angry, I know you’d rather not talk, but I thought that maybe…” Castiel pauses, trying to figure out which words to choose. “I thought that maybe we could write it down.”

There’s a huff from Dean, and Cas doesn’t know what to make of that, but he refuses to give up now. Slowly, he gets up from the bed, shuffling towards the whiteboard. He picks up one of the markers, a blue one, and starts writing.

He hears Dean move on the bed, probably getting up as well, and that’s what Cas had been counting on; Dean’s curiosity getting the best of him.

When Cas is done he puts down the marker, his eyes scanning the message one last time.

‘I apologize for what I did yesterday, I’m sorry I went after those rogue angels by myself without telling you. I didn’t want you to get dragged into my problems, and I feared it wasn’t safe for you to come with me. Which you would have, had I told you before I left.’

He hears a muffled sigh behind him, and he’s surprised to see Dean already standing right there. Dean rolls his eyes as he reads the message, but his face relaxes, and the green of his eyes is softer now. After a long moment, he theatrically picks up a marker as well, the green one, giving Castiel that face that says 'do we really have to do this?’

But Dean does it anyway, and writes a reply, the Dean Winchester way that Cas knows so well.

'I want you to drag me into your problems, you idiot, it’s not like I don’t drag you into mine. PS: you forgot to apologize for the part where you almost got killed. PPS: fine, apology accepted. Don’t ever do that again.’

Keep reading

Give me a break.

Hii! I know it’s been forever since I wrote something and I’m very sorry. There’s been so much on my mind lately and so many things that made me feel overwhelmed and I just needed to sort it out. This is kind of very loosely based on ‘Love me or leave me’ by Little Mix because someone requested it. I hope you like it. I plan on writing a second part.xxx

“Well, maybe I don’t fucking care anymore!”
It seemed like his booming voice made the whole house vibrate. It seemed like it cut right through Y/N. His words felt like he took a knife and rammed it into her heart and to top it all off he twisted it slowly so the pain had time to spread.
These last weeks felt like nothing but pain for her. He was never home and even when he was he somehow wasn’t. She let him in and he pushed her away. He pushed her so far away she couldn’t feel him anymore.
“Why are you still here then!?”
She had had enough. If he didn’t care anymore he could walk out the door and never come back.
Harry scoffed, turned around and walked up the stairs. When he slammed the bedroom door shut Y/N could feel the last bit of connection between them slipping away completely.
It’s never been this harsh. They slammed doors and yelled hurtful things before but it’s never been like this. Somehow this felt final.
She didn’t know how it happened, how everything between them began to crumble. But it did.
She didn’t feel his loving touch in at least three months. She didn’t hear his loving words in at least three months.
They fought almost every day and when they didn’t fight they didn’t talk to each other at all. Mornings were spent alone and cold, both waking up at their own times without a good morning kiss or a cuddle or anything at all. Nights were even worse. They went to sleep in the same bed but facing away from each other. They never solved their problems before bed. They broke their rule every single night and went to bed angry.
And even though right now Y/N might think it would be better if their paths would part she also knew she wouldn’t recover from it. Harry was the love of her life. She knew she could never be happy without him.
And so she broke down. Ugly sobs and fat tears. The whole weight of the last few months finally got too much and she couldn’t take it anymore. She was sure she’s never cried this much in her entire life. She was sure she never felt so hurt but numb at the same time before.
She didn’t know what the hell went wrong. What she did to push him away. What she did that made him stop loving her.
He doesn’t love you anymore.
Those were the words that constantly replayed in her head, after every fight.
He hates me.
She couldn’t find another explanation. That was the only reason she could think of as to why he wasn’t interested in fixing things between them.

When she met him she was sure he was the most wonderful person she’s ever met. He looked at her as if she was the most important thing on earth. He cooked the most delicious dinner for her. He held doors for her. He made her laugh and feel appreciated.
When she really got to know him she was knocked off her feet. He was the most gentle and loving man she could have ever imagined. He was there for her. He was the place she ran to when the world overwhelmed her. He was her happy place. Her home.
When things got a bit rough they stuck together. They were a team. They faced everything together and fought through it.
Y/N was the happiest girl ever. She thought she found her forever. Her happily ever after.
Until the perfect relationship began to change into great, then good, then normal and then…
Into whatever they had now.
She couldn’t take it anymore. And the worst thing was that there was no way out of this hell. They can’t go back to where they’ve once been. And parting ways? No fucking way could she survive without him.

It was three hours and twenty tissues later when Harry finally exited the bedroom and came down the stairs. Y/N was standing in front of the big living room window which had a view over what seemed like half of London. Her back was turned to Harry, her hair messy and her frame slightly shaking.
She knew that whatever would come now would change everything. She knew that they reached a point were something had to happen. Anything.
Harry took a deep breath and took the last few step towards her. Y/N closed her eyes when she felt his warmth. She hadn’t felt it in so long.
When he reached his hand out thread his fingers through hers she flinched. Harry could feel his heart breaking at her reaction to his touch. He closed the gap between them and pressed his chest flush against her back. That’s when Y/N started to cry again. Her whole body shook with the force of her tears and the whimpers and sobs seemed to get louder with every passing second.
“Shhh.” Harry tried to calm her and finally wrapped his arms around her from behind.
He nuzzled his face into her neck where she always smelled so good and that’s when he realized how long he hasn’t done that.
Y/N moved her arms so she could intertwine both her hands with his. She didn’t remember the last time she held his hand. She used to love his hands so much, always playing with his fingers and kissing his knuckles.
Harry kept pressing tiny kisses to her shoulder and squeezed her tighter to him every time a whimper left her lips.
They stood like that for at least ten minutes before Y/N turned around in his arms and hugged him again. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, his hands stroking softly over her back while her hands were fisting his shirt. She couldn’t get close enough. She needed him closer. Her hands wandered down underneath his shirt to touch his skin. Harry shuddered when her cold hands touched his skin but he knew she needed this. She hasn’t felt his skin in forever. It almost felt foreign.

When they finally pulled away from each other both of them were scared to let go. This couldn’t be it. They needed each other.
“We have to talk, Harry.” she whispered and pressed her forehead against his.
“I know, my love.”
My love. Was she still his love?
She thought he hated her.
They sat down at the kitchen table across from each other. Both of them couldn’t be fast enough to reach out for each other again and when their hands bumped against each other they both laughed softly. For the first time in months.
None of them wanted to be the first to say anything. Until Harry finally couldn’t take the silence anymore.
“I didn’t mean anything that I said earlier. Or… in the last few weeks. God, what is happening with us?”
“I don’t know, Harry. But it can’t keep going like this. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Me neither, love. I know I didn’t show how much it was affecting me but I want you to know that I feel just as broken as you do.”
Broken. Is that what they’ve become?
“I… I thought you hated me. During all these times you pulled away or turned your back towards me, I thought you hated me.”
Harry’s free hand reached out to hers so he could clasp her hand in both of his.
“I never ever hated you. Not for a second. And I never will.”
Y/N felt like a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders and she felt like she could breath again.
“I love you so much, darling.” Harry whimpered.
Her head snapped up so she could look at him and when she saw tears running down his cheek she reached over the table to wipe them away.
“I love you too, Harry. So much.”
Harry removed her hand from his face and pressed gentle kiss to ever knuckle.
“What are we going to do, love? I want to fix this. I want to go back to being the happiest couple ever. I want to go back to being happy with each other.”
“Me too, Harry. God, I’d do everything to get back to what we once had.”
They stared into each other’s eyes until Y/N cleared her throat and diverted her eyes to the table.
“I-I think we need a break.”
Harry’s whole world stopped in that moment. His mouth fell open and his brows furrowed. He pulled his hands from hers and a breathless ‘no’ left his lips.
“No.” He repeated after a moment.
“No way.”
“Harry, listen. I-”
“No!” he shouted.
Y/N flinched and her ears began to ring like every time he raised his voice at her. Her eyes closed and tears began to dribble down her cheeks.
“Do you think I’m stupid? I know exactly what’s going to happen when we do that. You’re going to realize just how unhappy I make you and that you are so sick and tired of me and you’ll never come back. Or you’ll find someone else who makes you laugh more than I ever did. God, I’m going to be gone for two weeks for promo. Is that not enough distance and space for you?!“
“Harry, I need time okay? I need time to take care of myself. I need time for sorting things out. I need time so that this all can work again and if you’re honest, you need it too.”
He laughed humorlessly and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You will have that time when I’m gone.”
“I-I don’t think two weeks are going to be enough.”
His eyes caught hers and she swore she’s never seen him look at her like that. So sad but angry at the same time.
“L-Longer?”
“Two weeks are nothing, Harry.”
“There’s been times when you couldn’t go a single day without me. There’s been times where two weeks without each other seemed like the end of the world.”
She closed her eyes and tried to control the tears which constantly blurred her sight.
“I don’t think we can sort anything out in two weeks.”
“I don’t think we can sort anything out when we’re away from each other.”
“Harry, please.”
He closed his eyes briefly and sighed.
“How long?”
“T-Two months?”
“No fucking way!”
This time it was Y/N’s turn to sigh.
“Harry, I-”
“One month. And not a single day longer.”
She caught his eyes for a moment before she nodded.
“Alright.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, both didn’t know what to say.
“I-I thought I’d stay in a hotel for the two weeks before you’re gone and then I’ll come back.”
“No.”
“Harry,-”
“No. Please, I-… I want to know you’re safe. You’ll stay here and I’ll stay with Gemma.”
“If that’s okay with you.”
“No, it’s actually not.”
She looked at him with the saddest eyes he ever saw and he shook his head and and sighed.
“I’m gonna go pack some stuff and then you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”
“Harry, I did not suggest a break because I want to get away from you as quickly as possible. I want to fix this. And I feel like some distance is the only way to sort things out. Or at least make the first step.”
He didn’t say anything but just left the kitchen and went upstairs to pack a few things. For some reason Y/N couldn’t help but feel guilty. Of course she knew he wouldn’t be happy with taking a break, she wasn’t either. But she hoped he could at least understand where she came from.

When he came down the stairs half an hour later with two big duffle bags Y/N almost felt like crying again. She watched him, how he placed them beside the front door, wiped his tears away, took a deep breath and turned around to make his way to the kitchen so he could say goodbye but she was already standing in the foyer. They stared at each other for a few moments before Harry cleared his throat and removed a greasy strand of hair from his face.
“I’ll go now, I guess.”
“Yeah.” Y/N nodded and sniffled.
He looked at her for another few seconds before he let out a frustrated sigh.
“Can I at least get a hug?”
He saw the surprise on her face but she nodded anyway and took the last few steps towards him. She slung her arms tightly around his neck and pressed her body tightly to his and Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her to his chest. He pressed kisses to her shoulder and neck and stroked over her back in gentle patterns.
When they pulled away a bit Y/N reached up to cup his cheeks and stroke over his skin.
“I love you. Nothing changed about that and nothing is going to change. I don’t want you to worry about me breaking up with you. I couldn’t imagine life without you.”
Harry pressed his forehead to hers and pulled her body even closer.
“Will you say goodbye when I’ll leave for New York? Don’t think I could leave without seeing you before.”
“I’ll think about it, okay?”
Harry sighed but nodded.
“C-Can I kiss you?” he asked her in a whisper.
She leaned in and connected her lips to his as an answer, his bottom lip slipping between hers. She kissed him four times before she pulled away a bit to look up at him again.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
She nodded and smiled softly at him.
“I love you, too.”
Harry gazed into her eyes for another few seconds before he pressed a few gentle kisses against her lips again. He pulled away from her then and took his duffle bags.
“I’ll let you know when I’ll leave for New York. You can call me or come over anytime you need, okay?”
“Okay. You can come over or call as well. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”
He nodded and opened the door.
“Take care, yeah?”
“You too, love.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
And just like that he left.

Oppa

A NIGHT AT HOME | NAMJOON VERSION

WORD COUNT: 3,682

warnings: graphic smut, spanking, orgasm denial, daddy oppa kink, ass play

Originally posted by hayoomin

masterlist | ask | song


“What are you staring at?” You chuckled, peering over the book you were reading to meet your boyfriend Namjoon’s gaze. It wasn’t unusual for him to stare, in fact it was rather ordinary. His eyes immediately pulled away from yours, wide with embarrassment as he pretended to work on his MacBook.

“Nothing.” He smiled shyly, his dimples piercing his cheeks in the most breathtaking way.

Despite being together for almost four years, your chest still bloomed at the littlest of things. His dimples, the way he would frown and chew his plump lips when he concentrated, how he could never write something down without ink finding a way to stain his hand. He was the leader of a famous Kpop group, Bangtan - or as they were more popularly and internationally known as; BTS. The two of you met in a small independent bookstore in Hongdae, Seoul. His charismatic charms and shy, sensitive personality won you over in a heartbeat, and you hadn’t looked back since.

Of course he wasn’t always shy and sensitive.

Keep reading

Sweet Punishment (M)

Im Jaebum | JB (Got7) x Reader 

Word Count: 5845

Genre: Smut [DaddyDom/Submissive Relationship]

“Are you serious?” Jaebum asked incredulously, eyes wide.

“Yes, I am,” You responded confidently, “and you are not going to do anything about it. Are you, Daddy?”


The car was heavy with tension as you sat a red light, the clock nearing midnight, and you felt as though your body was buzzing with electricity. Jaebum’s presence felt heavy and suffocating next to you. All you wanted to do was reach across the center console and make contact with any open skin you could get your fingers on. You needed to feel him, and if you didn’t soon you were sure you would combust. But, with the way you acted at dinner you knew better than to touch him. You were “in trouble” as he put it. You scoffed at the thought.

“What is so funny over there?” Jaebum asked, turning his head for you for a second before returning his eyes to the road.

“Oh, nothing is funny over here,” You replied.

Keep reading

his little princess / draco malfoy

WARNING: DADDY DRACO FEELS THAT COULD POSSIBLY KILL YOU

p.s. I’m most likely going to write a part 2 before any of you ask. ;)

word count// 2,351

Originally posted by thatfunnyweirdindiechick

December the seventh had been the due date for your little pink bundle.

Three days had slipped by and every second of those very long days felt excruciating to endure. You were a little over forty weeks pregnant and more uncomfortable than ever. Sleep was near to impossible and the immense amount of fatigue only worsened every other thing you felt. The baby’s kicks were quite strong and you couldn’t seem to enjoy them as much as you had near the start of the pregnancy. To top it all off, Draco was more protective than ever and any little moan or whimper that escaped from you made him spring into action. Irritability had become your number one symptom and your main target was Draco.

It was December the eleventh, the start of the fourth day after your due date. You woke up to minor contractions, but it didn’t get your hopes up since you had been experiencing them daily. You had slept a grand total of three hours and lied awake in bed, a hand resting on your large belly full of at least eight pounds of baby. The red letters on the clock read 5:45 and it remained dark outside, the bedroom’s only form of light being from the clock.

Rain hit the glass windows and roof, creating a soothing melody as you stared up at the ceiling. Draco’s arm lie around your waist and his large, vein filled hand rested on your belly. His steady breath washed over the back of your bare neck and the stray hairs from your tousled bun tickled your skin as he breathed out. You melted back into his warm chest, your palm going to rest on top of his and your fingers slotted between his against the material of your long-sleeved shirt. The contractions were continuing to plague your body and although they were spaced apart and fairly minor, they were still a bit painful. The only place you felt content was with Draco.

A swift and harsh kick to your ribs from the culprit in your belly caused you to suck in a sharp breath, your eyes screwing shut in discomfort. The little girl inside you hit the same spot where yours and Draco’s hands lie and your muscles tensed as he stirred behind you. A soft hum vibrated his chest and his arm tightened around your waist, his palm lightly squeezing your stomach in acknowledgment of the unborn child’s kicks. He pushed himself up on his forearm when you shifted uncomfortably, your ribs aching and a small contraction pulsated through your lower abdomen.

“Contractions again, sweetheart?” He asked gently and ran his fingers over your swollen stomach.

Sighing at his comforting touch, your head bobbed up and down on the pillow. “Yeah,” you breathed meekly and smiled weakly up at the concerned face of your husband. “But I’m fine. They’re still not strong and irregular.”

Draco moved his hand up to your flushed cheeks and brushed away a few sweaty strands of hair. Your hot flashes had only worsened as you progressed in the pregnancy and it was embarrassing to sweat without having done anything. He didn’t seem to think anything of it, but you felt like an unattractive beached whale.

His fingers never ceased in stroking your hair and you smiled tiredly when his lips pressed to your forehead. “Do you need anything, love?” He murmured against your skin. “I can get you some tea or make some breakfast.”

“I need you to cuddle me,” You moaned and shifted onto the side facing him. Your face burrowed into his t-shirt clad chest and you breathed him in, feeling completely at ease by his side. He made the discomfort and pain you felt bearable.

Chuckling, Draco brought you in flush to him and he heard your muffled giggles at your bump getting in the way. He smiled lovingly at you, his ice colored irises drinking in the tired smile on your face. Your hair was wildly tousled from tossing and turning all night, your skin was free of any cosmetic product and the pregnancy glow still radiated from you as it did in the beginning. He had never imagined himself to be lying in bed with the love of his life tangled against him and he didn’t quite understand how you had fallen in love with him, but he was sure as hell glad you had.

You tilted your head further back to meet his eyes just as you experienced yet another kick from the babe inside you. It was much softer and less of a karate chop to your ribs than the previous kick. Draco felt the gentle jab in his side since your belly was pressed to him as close as physically possible and you smiled when he slid your shirt up, revealing the large baby bump. You had acquired some stretch marks, but he paid them no mind and lowered his head to talk to her like you knew he adored doing.

“Hey baby girl,” Draco cooed in the gentlest tone he could manage. His fingertips danced along your bare bump and you admired the adoring smile on his face when she kicked at the sound of his voice. “It’s Daddy. Again.”

“She’s probably tired of hearing your voice, my love,” You teased and ran your fingers through his blonde locks.

“Shush,” He said and shot you a warning look that made you giggle. “Don’t listen to Mummy, princess. She’s mean to Daddy and—Oi!”

You had smacked his head and tried to stifle your laughter his messy hair. “Don’t tell our daughter that, Draco!” You scolded.

“Anyway,” Draco said and lowered his lips to your bump again. He brushed them along the stretched skin, a mark brandishing the once smooth flesh on your stomach, and goose bumps arose on your belly as he kissed it softly. “You like keeping Mummy and Daddy waiting, don’t you? We’re ready to meet you, princess.”

The clock ticked over to 6:00 and you shut your eyes for a mere second, taking in the soft sounds of the rain hitting the glass window. You had barely been submerged into darkness for a millisecond when you felt a gushing sensation between your legs as if you had peed on yourself, but you knew full well that it had not been that.

On December eleventh, the fourth day after your due date, your water had broken and labor begun.

Panic. Unshakable panic fell upon the house, capturing Draco in its claws. It seemed as though the split second your water broke and you pulled your very pregnant self from the bed, the contractions began to grow ever so slightly stronger. As your nose scrunched up in discomfort and your digits yanked your shirt over your stomach again, Draco caught every grimace of pain and he felt his body frozen to the bed. His eyes were glued onto your face and he watched as your hands came to rest just above your hips, riding the contraction out until it descended to nothing.

“Your water broke which means you’re in labor,” Draco said slowly, the words slowly seeping into his brain and when they did, the panic settled in further. “Bloody hell, you’re in labor!

You couldn’t help but giggle and take his hands in yours, pulling him from the king sized mattress. Your fingers traced over his knuckles soothingly and you tilted your head back, your y/e/c irises twinkling as they gazed into his icy blue ones. “I suppose baby girl heard you and decided to surprise you, my love,” You murmured and grinned.

He gaped down at your smaller frame before pulling you to him, his arms wrapped around you and his hands rested on your waist. The large baby bump pressed between you two and he kissed your forehead multiple times, the burning of tears already blurring his vision. “I’m about to be a Dad,” He mumbled shakily into your neck and you held him tighter as he shook slightly in your grasp.

A gentle, subtle smile pulled at the corners of your lips. The pads of your fingers ran along his back and you pulled back to kiss his forehead. “You’re going to be amazing, Draco,” You hummed softly and felt like crying yourself at his soft, adoring expression. “Now, I’m kind of in labor so we should go to the hospital.”

“Right.” Draco heaved a sigh and blew it out heavily. “You’re in bloody labor. Oh, merlin.”


Seconds trickled by, turning into minutes and following with hours. You had gotten decked out in the hideous hospital gown and the IV’s had been stuck into your veins. Nurses came and went, checking your progress along with an occasional monitor of the baby’s heartbeat or asking if you needed anything. You had dilated to a four and the contractions had gotten closer together, much stronger, and more painful. The whimpers leaving your mouth only worried Draco more and if you weren’t in immense amounts of pain, you would’ve been slightly amused.

Your eyes screwed shut in discomfort and a soft whimper fell upon Draco’s ears as he stood at your bedside, stroking his pale fingers through your hair and along your perspired forehead. He hated seeing you in pain and there was not a thing in the world he could do to make it better. He did all he knew to do and that was to make you as comfortable as possible.

Draco bent down to your level and kissed your head gingerly, his right hand clutching yours. “You’re almost halfway, love,” He cooed softly and brushed the pesky hairs out of your face. “You’re doing so good, taking those contractions like a champ.”

Blowing out an intake of air, you pushed a weak smile up at him. “I think labor is kicking my ass, but thanks Draco.”

He chuckled. “I’m not even the one in labor and its kicking my ass more than yours.”

You giggled and rose up against the pillows to peck his lips. You squeezed his hand, grinning, and said, “You’re taking labor like a champ, babe. I promise.”

“I think I’m supposed to be telling you that.”


A mere two hours prior, you had been at four centimeters dilated and gotten the epidural. Ten centimeters came in the blink of an eye and the time to push was upon you before your brain could process it. The hospital room was in a flurry of nurses and doctors prepping for delivery, the spotlights had been switched on, and your legs were positioned to deliver your baby girl. With a pounding heart and your belly flipping with nerves, Draco grasped your right hand firmly and murmured comforting words into your ear through the chaotic events unfolding rapidly.

“Alright, Mrs. Malfoy,” The doctor exclaimed from the end of the hospital bed. “It’s time to push.”

With a fleeting glance into your husband’s stormy irises and the distant sound of nurses reassuring you, you tucked your chin to your chest and pushed. A strangled cry elicited from your mouth as one of the nurses counted up to ten and you pushed through until she reached ten before sucking in a deep breath, dropping your head to the pillow. Draco stroked your hair and continuously peppered kisses on the top of your head or on the slightly dampened skin of your forehead.

“M’so proud of you, my love,” He hummed into your ear.

“I love you, but we’re never having another baby after this,” You huffed, already exhausted from one push.

Draco chortled. “Whatever you say, darling.”

“Push, Mrs. Malfoy!”

For the second time, you tucked your chin in, took a deep breath, and pushed as hard as possible because you wanted that baby out. The pressure and burning sensation began to intensify and after a mere few moments rest after the second push, you were going again. After a total of five pushes, the little baby girl was out and loud crying filled the hospital room. The moment your eyes laid on the doctor holding your baby, wiping her off a bit, tears spilled over onto your cheeks and you looked up at Draco. A small cry left your mouth at the sight of his eyes glistening with tears of his own and he stooped over to kiss your lips repeatedly, the taste of salty tears into the kiss.

“I love you so much,” He whispered and wiped the wet streaks on your cheeks.

“I love you too,” You sniffled.

The doctor placed your baby onto your chest, a blanket draped over the naked newborn and her little cries lessened to whimpers. You sunk your teeth into your lip, holding back a fresh wave of tears, and placed one of your hands on her head and the other on her tiny back. You pressed your lips to the top of her head and traced your fingertips along her back, soothing her whimpers to nothing.

Draco gazed at his two girls in awe. The tiny glimpse into you as a mother had already taken his breath away and he could feel himself falling deeper into the pit of love he held for you. Very carefully, he brought his hand to the pink cheek of his little girl and drug his finger along the soft skin as if it were porcelain. Never had he seen a more beautifully ethereal thing in the entire world than the bundle that lie on your chest. She had only been in the world for a few minutes and he was already enthralled. He was so in love with the tiny human he had created with you.

“My little princess,” He hummed gently and never ceased his finger against her small cheek. “She’s so beautiful, Y/N.”

“Of course she is.” You giggled. “She’s your daughter.”

“I think it’s the other way around, my love,” Draco said adoringly.

Your cheeks flushed and you sighed in content, the babe on your chest stirring before falling still again. “Freya Leigh Malfoy, already stealing hearts at a few minutes old.”

“That’s my girl.”

Hold On [S]

pairings/characters: pjm x reader

genre: smut

word count: 3.3k

summary: Things get interesting when Jimin shows up to your apartment with a mysterious paper bag.

Toy Sex

Originally posted by 9taefox

“Jagi~” he called out to you in an all to sweet voice. His honey like words slurring off his tongue as they bounced off the walls of your apartment, the desk you were working on suddenly seemed too plain for your liking. Especially when Jimin decides to pay a surprise visit.


You jump off the chair, the loose white shirt on your body being the only article of clothing on you, other than the bright pink sports bra with its neon zipper at the front that was clearly visible under the bright lights of the lit rooms.


“Ahh there you are.”


The moment you step into the room, you see a large paper bag tied together with a flimsy ribbon. It was placed on the glass coffee table that stood in the center of the room, its suspicious appearance making your skin itch with curiosity.


“What’s that Jimin?”


“Oh you don’t have to worry about that now.” The way his lips curve up to a smirk as he nears you has you completely engrossed in his gaze. He was wearing a black shirt that sat loose against his body but nonetheless highlighted every muscle that adorned his body. Bright hair pushed back to frame his face in tantalizing beauty. “Just let me do it how I want”

The last few words he uttered were simply whispers, but being the only two in the room you couldn’t ignore it. His tone had implications hidden under every word and as he walked closer to you, the life was sucked out of your body as you stood gazing into his eyes.


He pushed you against the wall, the moment he felt the both of your skins touching, but his hand at the back of your head only made the collision somewhat bearable. “Tonight you’ll listen to me, and I promise I’ll reward you ok?”


You’re only able to nod your head before you feel his soft lips press against yours, your hands that were thrown beside you reach out to touch him. His lips moving in absolute rhythm against yours, his fingers slowly pushing your hair back to tuck it behind your ears before harshly pulling your hands back down. “No touching”


His little acts of loving mixed with this harsh treatment of your body had pleasure coiling in anticipation. He was rarely in such a mood, and to be honest you craved it. You craved every second of his fingers digging beautiful marks on to your skin. You craved the little bites that he left on your skin in a feeble attempt to control his own moans and you loved the feeling of your fingers threaded through his soft locks, clutching on to it every once in a while as the beautiful pastiche of pleasure and pain takes over you.


But this time, you weren’t allowed to touch.
His animalistic instincts were on full display as he ripped the shirt over your body. Only to ravish the sight in front of him. With only one piece of flimsy cloth hiding you from his hungry gaze. “Bed. Now”


His voice had gotten heavier and his eyes had gotten darker. All the while his teeth grazing the soft flesh of his lips as he commanded you around to another room. He followed you in, carrying the bag that he had in his hands before stopping right in front of the bed.


“Sit down”


He orders, and quickly follow suit. He leans forward pressing a soft kiss. Your heart skips a beat, you look up to him, your mouth slightly ajar, his eyes scan your face for some sort of hint as to how you feel about it.

Sitting down on the bed next to you. He picks your chin up to look at him, for a moment you saw the flash of the loving and caring Jimin, but that thought was shoved to the back of your mind the second you feel the light clink of the metal against the hard wood of the headboard. It’s cool surface glittering the expanse of your skin with goosebumps.

The blushed carmine of the silk stood against your skin and for Jimin the sight in itself was too beautiful to handle and he swore he could’ve come just by the image of you sprawled out like this.

But that would just kill the fun.

He wanted to pleasure you, sure. But he wanted to get his own fun out of it. The black blindfold sat comfortably in the bag beside him, and so did his little surprise.

Slow and sexy, filled with confidence.

That’s what his voice would’ve conveyed to any girl in this world. The way his raspy voiced called out your name every now and then looking for silent confirmation as he fumbled with the fabric. A smirk garnered on his sculptured face, it’s not long before that he brings out the blindfold.

Slowly slipping it over your eyes, his finger tips brushing against your skin as he gently places it down securing it in place.

“Don’t even think of taking it off this time”
The last few times Jimin had blindfolded you, you managed to take it off by the end of it, only to gawk your eyes at his delicious body. So you had to fight against your instincts and keep them on, for the sake of finding relief to the built up tension he caused in a matter of minutes.

Jimins hand cups your cheek as he lays over you, kissing you will full force. His sudden need for dominance turning you on even more, happily submitting to him. His knees bent on either side of you, one hand slides along the side of your body, stopping to give your breast a quick squeeze before lacing his fingers along your side.

You bring your tied hands up in search of Jimins muscular chest. Running gentle hands over his picks, then up to is shoulders, resting looped around his neck. Jimin starts to pull his lips away from yours, but not before he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a little tug and suckle as warning.

The hand that was sliding down your side now rests between your thighs now completely stood off you. You could sense nothing but emptiness, that is before his fickle touches on the inside of your thighs seemingly woke you up.

“Remember last time darling?”

Hell do you. Last time it was a wreck. The bed actually moving under you as he pounded his way into you loud enough to get the neighbors out and complaining. It was a week of embarrassed blushing as you kept thinking back to it. The both you deciding to keep it down low for the next month but here you were again.

“Don’t make any noise this time..”

You couldn’t see him, the blindfold restricting all of your vision; but you knew for a fact that he got rid of his own shirt which was signified by the small thud against your wooden floors. You could perfectly imagine him in all his glorious beauty. His lightly tan chest that felt so right under your fingertips as blood breeches through its carmine scars.

But instead of feeling his weight over you, you just hear shuffling from the paper bag.

There’s more?

For a good minute you still couldn’t feel anything, but this time you couldn’t hear anything either. Just your breaths mixed with the soft music playing in the background.
That’s before his fingers slip back on to your skin, trailing their way upwards your thighs soon followed by his lips. Your body shivered from his touches but it just wasn’t enough. His hands found abode on your still clothed breasts, slowly zipping the bra off from the front before pushing it aside.

Lace bras were sexy, but Jimin just had a thing in seeing you wrapped up in all the straps and zips that your sports bras had. But you were never one to complain, since he’d always make the best of it. Always taking it off slowly, only to ravish your body completely.

And that’s exactly what he was doing. After a few minutes of just playing around with your mounds, his lips felt a bit out of place and started kissing up and down your body before settling on your already perked nipple. His teeth dragging across it’s soft skin before softly sucking on it. Your back arched off the bed melting into the feeling of his tongue lewdly working on your breasts all the while mumbling how good it felt. But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more and you needed more. But you didn’t want to beg.

So as he would have it, he slipped his hands off your body, letting your right nipple fall from your mouth with a ‘pop’ and at that moment you could feel him stare you down. Your chest was heaving up and down from trying to struggle against the silks that held you down and touch him just once. But your struggle was only in vain.

Minutes passed but he did nothing, absolutely nothing and you swear to god it ticked you off.
“Jimin please do something” you gritted through your teeth.

“Why?” He asks lifting his body from your body. His question got you off guard. You usually didn’t have to do much with Jimin, but he was going to tantalizingly slow. The way he kissed your skin got you riled up, but he didn’t even bother touching your heat.

Your bit down on your lip as he moved one of your thighs over one of his shoulders, murmuring a slew of curses under your breath as you felt him work up your inner thigh with open mouthed kisses and messy licks until his lips closed themselves around your little nub, swollen with arousal and almost making you jump up in sensitivity when he gently sucked on it. He had no issue with, considering how he proceeded to practically bury his face into your heat, his tongue licking stripes up your slit until it curled around your clit again, teasing the hell out of you.

“Does it feel good baby?” He asks, the slow rumble of his words amplifying the pleasure that buried deep itself within you.

But before you could answer, you heard it. The small buzz of a noise which for a second you couldn’t comprehend, but when it rang louder this time your mouth was left hanging open with a little ‘fuck’ you hear his soft chuckle, before his fingers lift your chin to meet his lips half way in the air.

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him. His lips wet probably from the constant licks that he snuck in from time to time as he watched you squirm. He kisses you again, getting you completely lost in nothing but this feeling and just how much you wanted to touch him. That is before the wind practically gets knocked out of you.

You feel the vibrations skimming against your skin, making your body tremble and your voice whimper. You pull away from his kiss just to reach out for a desperate breath of air letting a wanton moan take over the silence that had inevitably consumed the room.

“I’m going to go easy baby, you just have to hold it in for me. Alright?”

“Jimin.. fuck” you stutter when you feel the vibrations increasing. The slow pace it once adopted soon picked up, more aggressive against your throbbing clit.

“Hmmmm I didn’t hear you right?”

You could’ve broken the head board and knocked that confident air out of him, if you weren’t a moaning mess yourself. The vibrations increased itself slowly and you only moaned louder. The black ties holding you back. But Jimin didn’t even try to stop the grunts that escaped his lips every now and then purely from the sight of seeing you worked up without him actually doing anything. You were dripping with pleasure running down your thighs, possibly staining the sheets of your bed.

You feel him run a finger up your thigh, with a soft ‘tsk’ at hand. “Couldn’t even hold out that long”


“Can- You Stop- Teasing?” You breathe out, completely frustrated and absolutely done with his tactics. He laughs at your anger but doesn’t leave you hanging for long, as he leans down, his lips pressing against yours as he slowly takes control over you. His body over yours, his hands beside your head and all you can feel is his clothed thighs rubbing your exposed heat. He set to teasing again, and if you weren’t so preoccupied with kissing him and struggling against the ties you surely would’ve given him a piece of your mind.


But there’s still a way you can have your fun. Instead of letting Jimin take lead, his lips brushing against yours as he tries to devour you in rough and raw desire. You bite down on his lower lip, giving it a gentle tug, possibly taking him surprise. There’s a short click of disapproval and you know, you’ve probably reached his last straw.

He had absolutely no patience and that’s what you’re going to use against him.

“What’s wrong Jimin?” You breathe out trying to sound as confident as possible. Trying your best to get him to actually just give in and fuck you senseless. But other than a sigh of frustration there was absolutely nothing. Again.

“It’s not going to be so easy” he whispers

beside your ear, possibly having leaning forward but your lack of vision made it difficult to guess. You could feel his hardened length on your thighs and all you could wonder was how had he managed to hold out so long. “I am going to need you to stop this.”


“Do as I say, or I promise darling I can make it torturous” as he uttered those words there was the soft thud of something hitting the floor. If you hadn’t dealt with this situation before you would’ve been clueless. But that was him stripping down before your blacked out sight and lord would you kill to see it.

But you got what you wanted.

Without a warning, he pounced on top of you, lips attacking the already charted skin of your neck in beautiful blooms of crimson crescents. You couldn’t help but moan louder as he kept on suckling at that one spot that drove you crazy, along with his fingers that rubbed circles on your throbbing clit. You felt the way his cock twitched in between your thighs, but you knew that he was trying to test you and himself. But how much longer?

“Jimin, I swear to god if you don’t fuck me now and leave this- act. I am not going to–”
“Not going to?” He challenges almost, still continuing with his ministrations that has your body squirming under him. With your little squeaks and long drawn out moans the room consumed itself in what Jimin presumed to be the sweetest of musical pieces. He didn’t even start pounding you into daylight and you were already a moaning mess.

Today was not your day, usually by threatening him you could’ve had your way. But he just wouldn’t budge. Jimin wanted to hear you beg. He wanted your ego to crumble in his hands. He wanted you to submit under his will. If tying you up and denying you from sweet relief is what it takes, looks like Jimin got there.

“Jimin. Please– fuck. I” you muttered trying to push yourself further down the bed, which obviously wasn’t well accepted by Jimin, considering his hand held you down by your waist not minutes after rendering you motionless.

“Say it again” he demands, and with a small click it started again. The vibrations suddenly picking speed, after only coming to a stop a while ago. Your body squirmed from sensitivity. Your breathing staggered and you could feel heat rush to your cheek. Not a while longer and you would’ve come under.

“Please… Jimin don’t.”

“Be - more - specific” he growled.
“Jimin, just fuck me please” you manage to squeak out.

That’s all it took him. He just wanted to hear you beg for him. The fact that you had so easily given into him only stroked his ego. But before you could comprehend anything, he thrusted into you, all the while biting down on the skin. The bruises were smeared with streaks of violets the red fading to a soft burgundy almost. His thick cock stretched with absolute deliciousness. The beautiful miscellany of pleasure with a sting of pain that felt oh-so-right. The way he slowly pushed through you, before pulling away as if starting with the teasing all over again.

But instead his hands grip on to your waist, well one hand. The other moving to fiddle with something on the bed. But all you care about is the deep thrusts that seem to be hitting you in just the right spot. Your body letting itself unravel under his sudden moves, each time your legs threatening to close shut but one strong hand held you down.


Your throat hurt from all the loud groans that you tried to hold back, each syllable of incomprehensible words you tried to stutter only mixing in with Jimins own grunts.

He picked pace, having dropped low enough to brush his lips over yours but just not kissing them. Rather, deciding to softly breathe over your lips as he rocks his body back and forth. The combined pleasure from the vibrator that was still pressed up against your clit, making it throb from oversensitivity and his thick dick that fucked you just hard enough to make it feel good.


You lost sense of everything around you, all you could feel was Jimin and how amazing it felt with the little toy doing its work on your body all the while as Jimin takes his time. But even the breaching blood from your assaulted lips couldn’t drag you back to reality, as you little specks of white covered the blank expanse of your vision, your body pulsing from the sensation of euphoria as you squeeze around Jimin as he tries to ride you through your high. The feeling was too intense, leaving you completely breathless and knocked out. But the pain didn’t subside, over stimulation swimming through every vein in your body as Jimin tries to reach his own high.


Their was a soft tinge of pain but it felt oh so delicious as he bit down on your skin again. You knew he would last long, but you couldn’t help but still grunt with every thrust. This pain that had settled tasted bittersweet and although you wanted it to stop, you reveled in its bliss.
“Y/N..” he moaned not long after. As his cock twisted within your already tight heat; you couldn’t feel your body all sensations having been drawn out. You could only feel Jimin, and hear his growls as he thrusts a few more times. His hit come filling you up deliciously against your sore body. As he pulls out gently, switching off the toy at the same time.

Your body relaxes, still tied up. Chest heaving up and down your eyes still shut close. Both of you breathless and exhausted from this impromptu work out.

“You were on the pill weren’t you?” He asks out of nowhere, causing you to open your eyes with a soft giggle. He reached forward to untie you, letting your hands fall against his small palms, completely limp from too much “work”

“Don’t worry, I’m definitely not risking a mini Jimin running around the house anytime soon” you whisper as he pulls you against his body, before softly laying down on the soft pillows.

“We can’t have a mini me if you’re going to be screaming so loud” He replies curtly, only after snuggling next to you a split second later.

“The neighbours are sooo complaining this week”

In bed with... Yuta

MASTERLIST

Okay, so I know I’ve been prolonging this for a while but it was because of my short hiatus and then I read it and had to edit it because it was utter crap tbh it still is I just hope you like it and yeah :-) I’m blessing your eyes js  ^_^


In bed with… series:

Originally posted by nctuhohahyes

i know i use this gif for literally every fucking reaction but i am obsessed with it bc of his thighs. when we get more thigh action, i promise to stop lmao actually not really :-)

Originally posted by sour-satang

gdi flo i used all the good gifs in my making out with yuta post dbaibd check it out for some cool gifs of yuta ok

Keep reading

Read Part 1 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Reader
Part: 2/?
Warnings: Smut
Summary: Reader a nurse during WW2 finds herself at the same camp as Bucky. 
A/N: This inspired by this Sinful Sundaypost. I worked really hard on this, hope you guys like it. This might be the last part but I can’t be sure. I wrote this listening to Etta James - At Last if you want to listen. Make sure you come and let me know what you guys think!
Word count : 1,754 


Bucky stopped in his tracks the moment his eyes fell on you.

“Y/N?”


It was as if the cracks in your heart had been filled. The moment your name passed his lips, you pushed through the darkness of longing to the surface of hope with a sharp intake of breath.  

He stood still, eyes locked with yours. His chest heaved with adrenaline and uncertainty yet his eyes remained unmoved. You took a slow step forward, finding your voice you called his name softly.

“Bucky”

His eyes closed, jaw clenched slightly. “You even sound like her” his voice was low and mostly to himself. Titling your head curiously, you realised his dilemma. The time that had passed between you had caused him to believe you were but a trick being played by his mind. Sadness clenched at your heart but still you stepped closer.

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༺ in the open ✧ bella hadid

❝ and oh — did she quiver with anticipation at the excitement that may ensue. ❞

WORD COUNT: 1.7K

The wind fell short as we shuffled into the nearly vacant bus, digits curled around the dark handle of my suitcase as I haphazardly trailed behind Bella. Despite the only other occupants being a gentle elder woman nose deep in a classic piece of text and the impatient driver glaring at us ( as if somehow that would get us to move any faster ), she still found her way to the very back, her own luggage settled in the chair up front. I quickly copied her actions, finding my way right by her side; no space found as the heat of her exposed thigh pressed up against mine. 

And with that, the hour and a half long trip began, droopy eyelids settling and headphones gently playing in one ear while Bella made minuscule observations of the passing landscape into the other. It was serene, really. Watching the way the sun shone against her porcelain skin and captured the very essence of her smile. She was my best friend, and she was beautiful. 

It was about a third into the trip that I had felt it. The back of a smooth palm gently brushing against my kneecap, a spurt of shivers instantly following in reply. My head snapped to attention, eyebrows furrowing curiously in both question and caution; what exactly was she attempting to go for? 

My gaze quickly averted to the grand rearview mirror in the very front of the bus; as if terrified the bus driver had noticed that. But what could he have noticed? A girl accidentally bumping into another in the most innocent sense? It was innocent, wasn’t it? 

And that’s all I presumed it to be— innocent. So I went back into my own world, eyelids drooping in an eager attempt to find my way into sleep. 

However, no more than five minutes could’ve passed before I felt that same feeling. Her skin against mine; this time, more bold. She gently pushed my legs open, her digits curiously traveling against the flesh of my inner thigh; a trail of goosebumps following in her wake. My eyes shot open, teeth sinking into my bottom lip. 

“Bels, what are ya doing, darling?” I mutter, daring to meet her gaze. 

“I’m… experimenting, you could call it.” She replies, so matter of fact and final yet holding that same coquettish lilt it always did. Her eyes, bright and seductive, were darker than usual, a deep shade I’d yet to discover before this moment. It could only be classified as lust. 

And in that moment, our lips encountered one another, the smell of strawberry chapstick infiltrating my senses. My eyes widened in shock, and for a moment I can’t necessarily process just what’s happened. But within seconds, I melt into it, our lips molding for a second before pulling away. The bus driver doesn’t even notice. 

Of course, I feel the need to mention it anyway. 

“Bella, we’re on a bus.” I chastise, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as my fingers grazed over my lips. I can’t shake off the overwhelming sensation of wanting more, vying for that renewed feeling of how soft she felt against me. All the meanwhile, her fingers stay teasingly at my inner thigh, phantoms of patterns gently painted. 

“That’s why it’s exciting.” She answers lowly, and I can feel a shiver run down my spine. I want to throw caution to the wind, I do, but my inhibitions are fighting me. Yet, I feel it, that heat pooling between my legs. She so easily had an effect on me with the simplest of touches. But it was the way she looked, and the tone of her voice, and g o d, her fingers on my thigh. 

“We shouldn’t…” I protest, weak; halfhearted. She simply chuckles, her head dipping down to press against the exposed skin of my shoulder. I can feel her teeth sinking into it, harsh in the most pleasurable sense, her fingers growing closer to where I want them with every second that agonizingly passed. 

My breath grew so shallow in such a short amount of time, and I was unsure if I was shaking out of the sheer anticipation of her touching me, or by the fact that at any second, someone could notice; whether the driver or the old lady, it didn’t matter. But I knew one thing: I was shaking because of how I didn’t care. 

Because at this exact moment, I knew I could keep trying to get her to stop. To say it’s wrong, to say we’ll get caught. But I didn’t want her to. I wanted to unravel for the aspiring supermodel next to me, melt into the way her chocolate tresses framed the porcelain skin of her picturesque face as she sucked on my skin, cerulean gaze darkened with lust as they stared at me. 

My breath hitched in my throat when she finally grazed her fingers against the practically sheer lace of my panties, gripping onto the back of the seat in front of me haphazardly.

“Oh.” I whispered shakily— not necessarily expecting how overwhelming that had been. The cold of her hand against the heat of my aching cunt was enough to send another gush right into my panties.

“Are you already so wet for me, baby?” She teases, pulling away from my shoulder. I can see the dark marks forming already. She soothes it with one last kiss, her fingers rubbing at my cunt through the fabric of my panties; my hips bucking into her hand desperately. I don’t know why I needed this so much. Why the thought of my best friend getting me off inside a bus made me so damn turned on. 

“So wet.” I reply shakily, barely able to spit it out through the shallowness of my breaths. 

“Tell me how bad you want my fingers inside you. Tell me how tight you are.”

“I want it so bad. I want to drench your fingers in my cum. You can make me feel so good. Please, p l e a s e. Please put…” I have to pause momentarily as her fingers apply a slight pressure against my throbbing clit. Close my eyes and enjoy it. But as soon as I stop talking, her fingers stop moving. So I continue. 

“… put your fingers deep in my pussy, Bels. I’ll wrap around them like a good girl, ride your fingers and let you stretch me out while you watch. Whisper your name. Let my cum stain these bus seats.” 

“You’re so eager, aren’t you?” And she relents. Finally. My panties pushed to the side, a single finger slipping in. It’s not enough. Not nearly. And it’s so slow. Painfully slow. I want more. So much more. 

“Don’t tease.” 

“Don’t be greedy.” She coos, her finger curling up and hitting my sweet spot as if I remind me she has complete control of the situation. That I never even had it for a second. 

My hips rock against her hand desperately, aching for it. For her to pound into me, for the sound of her fingers pumping into my slick little cunt to fill my ears but not the bus, for that release. 

“Please.” My fingers grip onto the bus seat, free hand digging nails into her shoulder; nearly breaking skin. It’s almost too much teasing. All the anticipation built up so much, I could explode right here, right now, without her doing any more than this. 

“Three, please. My pussy n e e d s it.” I practically beg, my voice coming out in a low whine. Bella’s teeth sink into her bottom lip, slipping in two other fingers. It stretches me, pain and pleasure in a beautiful mix as I let out a low moan without meaning to. Bella’s hand slams over my mouth to silence me, and I see a glint in her eyes. 

It’s mischievous. 

Without giving me time to adjust, she begins to pound into me, and I can see my juices sliding everywhere. Down my thighs, onto her hand, the bus seat. I’m fighting to throw my head back in pleasure. To know that Bella of all people was showing my poor little cunt no mercy, curling up into my sweetest spot and ramming into it without a second thought was enough to get me off, and to have the actual feeling of that occurring added onto it left me on the verge of tears the the pleasure, every inch of my body shaking with excitement. 

“Yes, yes, yes.” I whimper out, my hips jerking against her hand sloppily. 

“It feels so good.” 

“Oh, right there!”

“Oh, just like that Bella!” 

I can’t seem to shut up. Every part of my brain is telling me to scream out as I approach my climax, as Bella pounds into my little pussy. I’m so close I can taste it. I’m so close, my chest heaving up and down rapidly in pleasure as I bounce against Bella’s fingers, my gaze never leaving hers. 

Her thumb kneads my clit encouragingly, clockwise circles creating stars in my vision as it throbs with each round she makes. 

“Cum for me, baby.” She purrs, so sweet and seductive simultaneously; and I do. 

I let it all go, a silent scream escaping. My mouth wide open, my back arched off the seat, my nails so deep in Bella’s shoulder it draws blood. All while she continues to fuck me through it, never seeming to let loose. 

My toes curl and my eyes squeeze shot, entire body shaking with the overwhelming pleasure. It feels like a lifetime. 

Only once I come down from it all does she slip out of me, though my legs stay spread as she brings up her fingers to her lips, sucking it in and licking up every last inch of my cum. 

“So sweet.” She moaned, popping her fingers out. 

“I wonder what it would taste like directly from the source.” 

༺ Hi, guys! It’s been way too long since I’ve written, but I got so much inspiration to write this, and I thought of no one better to restart my blog with than my baby Bella. I hope you all continue to support me as I start fresh, and that you enjoyed this smut. Much love, Julietta.

anonymous asked:

Can i ask for the paladins and Allura's reactions to Alien!Reader losing control and going berserk during a fight against the Galra or another alien race, and they try to calm them down? Bonus if they manage to stop them and they star to cry after realizing what happened?

Shiro:

“(Y/N)!” Shiro desperately called out to you. His human hand’s fingers shook desperately, clenching into a fist, then releasing again. “(Y/N)!” He repeated, eyebrows furrowing, his body trembling. “Please listen to me!”. The fight against the Ofnalians had been long and gruelling, but after one of them had laid a hand on you – something… happened.

But now the battle was over, yet you still stood there, shaking with fury, (E/C) eyes blazing with a fire that couldn’t seem to be quelled. Shiro reached out a hand towards you, attempting to touch you on the shoulder. You quickly turned around to him with your arm raised, ready to attack him.

He expertly intercepted you, merely grabbing your arm with his Galra hand. Strong, and firm, his grip felt intrusive, but safe. You both stood there, staring at each other, gasping for breaths. Tears welled up in your eyes, as you inhaled, and exhaled, and inhaled-

“(Y/N)!”

Keith:

“What is going on with you?!” Keith gasped furiously, clutching his arm which you’d just mindlessly scraped with your claws, leaving a shallow gash.

“(Y/N), please stop – you’re scaring me. I need you to stop!” He pleaded desperately, greyish violet eyes sparkling with tears. You stood there, facing him, as if you were frozen in time. You could feel his desperation, as you desperately tried to claw yourself back to reality. You felt like you were drowning, yet you’d never felt more like yourself than you do right now.

“(Y/N), I get it. It – it happens to me to. You just need to ground yourself.” He could see your eyes wildly scanning the area, your mind hardly processing his words.

“I’m here. I’m here, I promise. It’s okay.”

Hunk:

Firm and gentle arms wrapped around you and soft fingers delicately ran through your rough and matted hair. Your skin was blotchy and clammy. You looked down at your shaking hands – they were almost translucent. You could see every bone, every vein, in stark and worrying detail. You couldn’t remember anything, you couldn’t remember anything except for…

Screaming.

Screaming and shouting, many of these sounds emerged from your own throat, but many of them had emerged from the carnage scattered around your immediate area. What had you done? Oh God, what had you done?

Hunk rested his chin on your head, and you found comfort and safety in his presence. This was all you needed. Safety.

“It’s over now.” He said, in a wavering voice. “It’s okay, (Y/N).” You took a deep, shuddering breath. “We’ll get you back to the castle ship, and get you all fixed up. It’ll be fine.”

And in that moment, you really believed him. You really believed that everything would be okay.

Lance:

“(Y/N!)” He screamed out in near agony. You could hear his footsteps rushing to your side, as you lay on the floor, exhaustion taking over every part of your body. You could remember every single detail. You could smell Galra blood, and hear circuits fizzing from across the room. Damaged sentries surely littered the floor, as did…

You didn’t want to think about that.

Your skin was still glowing, and the cool air was harsh on your scrapes, cuts and bruises, though you’d done more damage than you’d received.

Cool, quivering arms wrapped around you, and you looked up only to be faced with Lance’s concerned face, with tears running down.

You didn’t want him to touch you. He couldn’t be touching you, not while you were still like this. He’d seen what you’d done to all the Galra soldiers – why wasn’t he afraid of you?

“Oh God, (Y/N), I saw what happened, I’m so sorry, I should’ve helped, I should’ve been there.“ He garbled out in between sobs. You could see the fear in his eyes, but your view of him was quickly blurred by your own tears.

What had you done?

Pidge:

You could hear something faint behind you. Someone calling out to you.

“(Y/N!)” That sound was familiar, that voice was familiar. But it wasn’t familiar enough. It was strange and alien to you, and it couldn’t reach you. You were too far gone, but you were doing right. You were doing everything right. You were meant to be beating up the bad guys, weren’t you? The Pavonite at the end of your arms seemed to think so, with the head lolling off to the left side, and the eyes glazed over.

“(Y/N)! Please stop it – it’s over!” The voice called out again. But no, it wasn’t over. But everything was too loud, the screams and shouts echoed around the landscape, but then…

But then it was over, there was silence. The only sounds were the gasping sobs of the voice. You turned around, only to be confronted by Pidge’s bloodied face and desperate hazel eyes.

“It’s over. You went… I don’t- I don’t know what happened…”

You turned back around, looking into your hands. There was a Pavonite at the end of them, bloodied, and gory, and… dead. Oh God, had you done this?

You turned to Pidge, desperately seeking some kind of comfort as tears poured down your face, and you produced large gulping sobs.

You were me with open arms. Shaking brutally, but open.

Your small frame was wracked with large gulping sobs, as Pidge ran her fingers through your hair. ”Shh, Shh, it’s all okay, it’s all okay, I promise.”

Allura:

You heard Allura coming before you saw her – those light and delicate footsteps rushed towards your hiding place. You could hear her breathing heavily and frantically, as if she’d run all throughout the castle trying to find you.

Your hands still shook, still blotchy and blue. There were holes in your clothes were spikes had popped out (And since retracted), and your eyes glowed a bright yellow still. You’d caught sight of yourself in one of the shiny chrome surfaces of the castle, and out of desperation, you’d punched it, leaving a dent in the wall, stained with violet blood from your knuckles.

Allura almost ran right past you, but she caught you out of the corner of her eye. “(Y/N)?” She whispered, in an almost quizzical tone, it was as if she didn’t recognise you. You didn’t balme her – you looked like a monster.

“What happened?” She whispered cautiously, crouching down next to you, reaching out a hand to meet yours. You quickly snatched it away, looking away from her. “I- I don’t remember. I’m sorry.”

Allura looked shocked at this relevation, but her face quickly softened into a sad smile.

“It’s okay.” She whispered, and you shook your head furiously. “It’s not okay!” You desperately pleaded with her, trying to make her understand.

“I went into some kind of… Monster mode? I’m still in bloody monster mode.” You lamented, ashamed of your situation.

Allura nodded slowly, and reached for your hand again, entwining it with her elegant fingers.

“It’ll be alright.” She said in a smooth and confident voice, and in that moment, you really believed it would be.

~ mod pidge 👽

||❥ artistic (nsfw)

j u n ! s c e n a r i o

Originally posted by minyoangi

queued.

word count: 2,143

genre: ohohoho it’s more nsfw filth.

click below the cut to find out what is included. just a lil heads up sub!junhui is comin ur way u’ve been warned i’m already packing my things n heading into the ozark mountains.

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Fanfiction - Scalpel & Needle

@mary-waitforit-lou: Maybe a From Hate to Love au, at first they can’t stand each other and then…

I asked for prompts a few days back and immediately felt the need to write this one. It’s a classical trope that I feel can be quite interesting. I received a couple of other ideas, that are already in store - some are meant to go later into my existing works. Thank you for inspiring me!

Scalpel & Needle (Part I)

“I’d be bloody thankful if you didn’t come into my OR like some kind of unwanted saviour and start to order me around!” Claire snarled, ripping off her surgical cap, her curls exploding in the air after sudden liberation, her hair bobble tearing with an audible “pop!”. “I didn’t ask for your help!”

“The patient was crashing.” Jamie tried to explain, remaining eerily calm in spite of the angry woman facing him, looking like a rattlesnake ready to pounce. “Ye couldna possibly deal with all those bleeders. I thought a second pair of hands…”

“I already had a second surgeon!” She hissed, pointing at the frightened young resident who had sought refuge against the wall, clearly wishing to be swallowed by it – and away from the two galvanized surgeons. “I was in control, using the technique I prefer! But you decided to come and show off, like some goddam star!”

“I was only trying to help, lass.” He grunted, gripping his fists. His blue eyes were dark and dangerous, tumultuous seas waiting for ships to wreck on their waves. “It seems to me ye have a bit of a problem admitting when ye need help and it’s perfectly…”

“Oh, you bastard!” Claire roared, advancing to face him – even though he had the clear advantage of his imposing height. “Don’t you dare call me “lass”, as you do to the young nurses, melting them away to do your biding. Stop pretending you know the first thing about me! You just want to please the board, so they’ll give you the most challenging cases!”

“I couldna care less about the board, Doctor Beauchamp.” Jamie said through clenched teeth. “Ye should be thanking me that the patient isna heading to the morgue - instead ye’re yelling at me like a mad banshee, because I wounded yer pride.”

Claire’s cheeks were throbbing with heat, her chest constricted with a fury she couldn’t even begin to understand. She raised her index finger and poked him on the chest, wielding it like a dangerous dagger. “Stay the hell away from me and my OR, Fraser. I mean it!”

Mallaichte bas! Fine!” He roared, raising his hands in exasperation. “I won’t meddle again, as much as I think ye might need it. Ye blind woman, stubborn as a mule…” And he reverted to clipped Gaidhlig, grumbling in a low voice as he strode down the hallway.

“Claire!” She heard the voice of her friend, Geillis Duncan, gaping at her with her mouth noticeably ajar. Claire was panting, her vision almost blurred from anger, as she contemplated James Fraser retreating with a cold satisfaction. “What’s this ruckus all about? Is something amiss?”

“Just my esteemed colleague, James Fraser, being an insufferable prick.” She glared at the other people surrounding her, frozen in contemplation of the spectacle, silently warning them to return to their own business. “I really don’t know how someone can be as egocentric, misogynistic, smug…”

“Well, don’t hold anything back, darling.” Geillis laughed, gently pushing her by the arm to a nearby resting room. “Yer feud with the man is becoming legendary. There’s probably people placing money to bet on yer next fight.”

“Someone has to show him he’s not even half as impressive as he fancies himself to be.” Claire puffed, filling a glass with cold water from the machine in the corner and drinking it down.

“Most people think him charming, Claire.” The nurse pointed, sitting on the small couch – a myriad of unidentifiable stains garnishing the old fabric. “A verra capable surgeon, kind and concerned with his patients, humble but with a sharp mind, and a brilliant sense of humour.”

“Damn Geillis, don’t you hold anything back either.” She rolled her eyes in disbelief. “One would think you very enthralled by the man.”

“Everyone – well, every lass and probably John Grey too – kind of is.” The redheaded girl gave her a mischievous smile. “That is one hell of a ginger fox, Claire. How can ye not want to ride that…”

“That’s quite enough, thank you!” Claire hawked and tried to tame down her revolting hair with her fingertips. “I happen to be immune to whatever spell he has been casting around here.”

“I just don’t understand why ye hate him so much.” The nurse looked at her with studying eyes, slightly biting her index finger, her nails a gaudy shade of pink. “Are you trying to conceal the fact that ye actually find him attractive?” She said in a soft voice. “I know that after Frank it’s hard for ye to…”

“Don’t.” Claire said in a serious voice, the shadow of a smile gone from her face. “Don’t say that. This has nothing to do with Frank. I just don’t see what you see, that’s all.”

“Alright, I’ll let the subject go – for now.” Geillis stretched herself like a cat and grinned, preparing to resume her work. “Drinks tonight at Leoch’s?”

“Sure.” Claire nodded absentmindedly, already studying her next patient’s chart. “I’ll meet you there after I finish my colectomy.”

“Behave until then, ye hear me!” She warned Claire, leaving her alone to face another surgery.

****

Claire opened her locker, blood pulsing rapid inside her vessels, so much so she felt the tidal waves of blood on her temples. Like she had foresaw, a lonely envelope was there, a bit crumpled after being pushed through the small gap. With shaking hands and a smile of anticipation, she opened it.

“It has come to my attention that you had a rough day. I’m sorry to hear it. I thought I would make it a little better – but this time I’m borrowing the words of a wiser man.

«My struggle is harsh and I come back with eyes tired at times from having seen the unchanging earth,

But when your laughter enters it rises to the sky seeking me

And it opens for me all the doors of life.»

I hope to see it again soon. I shall miss your laughter every second you hide it away.

With l Yours,

Scalpel”

It had started six months before. On a day when night had forgotten to go away, leaving everything immersed in shadows, rain pounding over the roof like a furious fist banging.

She had lost a patient that day. She recalled it vividly, because it had been the first since she had moved to Edinburgh. Not only that – it had been a young woman, with the same hopes and dreams that she had, heart broken into a million pieces but still hopeful. Losing her had been like losing a piece of herself, an entire world shattered away under the lights of the OR.

Claire accepted the sympathetic words of her colleagues, the gentle hands that touched her back, assuring her that not every battle was meant to be won. But she had lost – so brutally, so completely, so painfully. She walked to the locker room and bolted the door, allowed herself to cry on the floor, to sob until her heart had melted and gone away.

When she opened her locker to retrieve her things at the end of her shift, she had found a sketch there, pencil on paper like the tears on her cheeks. Someone drew a hand – elegant fingers with a thin wrist, which eerily reminded her of her own – holding a scalpel. And touching her palm underneath it, as if the fragile scalpel had been too heavy to hold on her own, a second hand helped her to hold it. The touching image – it had brought tears to Claire’s eyes – had been signed in a crooked handwriting. “Scalpel”.

The drawing had been on her nightstand since that day, a reminder that someone out there truly understood – knew – the loneliness of her work, the hardships she endured and how much she needed a presence to hold her when her strength failed her.

The second gift came a week after that – a pressed blue flower, perfectly preserved, clearly saved for quite some time between the pages of a book. Claire inhaled it, hungry for the perfume and words still trapped in it. A short note came with it – “Will you make a home for it with you? Scalpel”.

After a few weeks – time in which she had received poems, caricatures and photos of landscapes – she decided that her secret friend – for the mysterious person clearly meant to forge a relationship with her through those small tokens – deserved an answer.

She had scribbled it at home, sitting at her desk – the pressed flower next to her, on top of an organized pile of paper – and left it lodged on the door of her locker, where he’d certainly find it.

“Dear Scalpel,

I’m not sure why you think me deserving of such kind attentions, but I have to say you seem to read my mind! Not only I find everything you give me fascinating, but you seem to guess when I’ll need it the most. If someone ever told me I’d have a secret correspondent, I’d laugh and swear them insane. But in truth I find great solace in you and cherish every thought you spare me. Thank you for being a true friend – the more selfless kind.

Cla Needle

P.S. – Of course you know my real name, but it seems only fair that the both of us would have secret code names. I’ve been told to be sharp as one - and equally resourceful.”

And so their correspondence became two-sided. A week hadn’t gone by without a sign from him and Claire realized they were incredibly close – intimate, even. She had tried to suggest for them to meet and talk in the cafeteria – at least for him to reveal his name, so she could put a face on the person that meant so much to her. His answer had been concise and clear: “One day I’ll tell you everything. But not yet.”

Claire placed the note on her pocket, where her fingers could brush it – touching it, savouring it through the next hours. She headed for the pub to meet Geillis – blissfully unaware of Scalpel’s existence - wondering how one could be enamoured with a man made only of words on paper.

Across The Multiverse, 4.

Genre | Greek Mythology AU.

Pairing | Kim Taehyung / Reader.

Words | 2,529 words.

Conspectus | Not even a God can save her. But oh, does he try his best.

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anonymous asked:

Imagine a universe where Jamie got to keep William as his own, pretty please!

Special thanks to Mod Gotham for coming up with the title for this new AU of mine. I have it all planned out but I’m not sure yet how many parts it will be. I hope you all enjoy it. - Mod Lenny

Mac Ruaidh - Part One

The cold of the raging storm outside had nothing on the cold that invaded his veins at the news from the Ellesmeres’ cook, though he was less certain whether it was caused by the news that Geneva was dead or that her husband was thoroughly convinced her child had been fathered by another man.

Though it was wrong to curse the dead, the impulse was strong. He had known when he accepted her twisted bargain that it wouldn’t be so simple. He should have tried harder to find a way out of it without giving in to her demands. As his anger and frustration rose the chill faded and heat rose through him.

Perhaps his wits had gotten slow from lack of use. In the cave he’d had little to do but think and second guess his every move; at Ardsmuir there had been the men to think on, their welfare to negotiate and in the governor he’d found a man willing to challenge and bargain shrewdly, not to mention the opportunities to play at chess or read a bit from one of the books on the shelf. But at Helwater he had slipped into a routine that didn’t require the same mental exertions; physical exhaustion carried him to his bed at night and the relative freedom of movement––being outdoors and working but not under the eyes and guns of guards––he had given over to enjoying the simpler aspects of his life, pushing aside the harsh terms of his servitude. In playing the part of a mere groom perhaps some of the simplicity he played at had seeped into his mind and impeded his faculties.

How else could he explain the apparent ease with which Geneva––hardly more than a lass––had gotten the upper hand on him enough to force his compliance?

Jamie closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly, urging his mind towards quiet. Half a dozen ideas for what he could have done or said differently in the field that day were fighting with each other as though settling on which would have been most effective might change his current situation.

But what exactly was his situation? The lad was his by blood but Ellesmere’s by law and as far as appearances were concerned.

The rising heat of Jamie’s anger cooled suddenly as something within him sank. He had a son, another child he wouldn’t have a chance to see or raise or know. Well, perhaps Ellesmere would let the lad visit Helwater from time to time; the Dunsanys were still the babe’s family. Jamie might be able to see him from a distance, which was more than he’d had of either of his other two children. Lord that she might be safe, she and the child , he prayed silently, habitually, and then with a sigh added, And may Lady Geneva rest peacefully.

A maid came scurrying into the kitchen with wide eyes. “Your master wants you right away,” she urged Jamie and Jeffries. “And he wants you to come armed.”

Jeffries ran to fetch the pistols from the carriage but Jamie urged the maid to show him to Lord Dunsany immediately; if arms were indeed needed he shouldn’t have trouble improvising with something at hand or at least stalling until Jeffries could join them.

Ellesmere and Dunsany were both red-faced from screaming as he entered and looked about to come to blows.

“Your daughter was a whore and I’ll not have her bastard bearing my name,” Ellesmere hollered. “I’m getting rid of him one way or another.”

“My daughter was no WHORE!” Dunsany screamed, taking a swing at Ellesmere who easily dodged it. “And you’ll not shame my grandson with your lies!”

“He’s no son of mine, of that I’m sure,” Ellesmere taunted Dunsany, “so that ought to tell you all you need to know of your daughter and her character.”

Jamie felt the blood drain from his face but it had no effect on his legs. He inserted himself between the two men saying nothing.

“We had an arrangement when I agreed to marry that slut and I don’t care––”

Jamie gave Ellesmere a shove so that he fell back into a cushioned chair. Both he and Dunsany were startled into silence by the action.

“Have ye no heard that it’s rude to speak ill of the dead?” Jamie said with a quiet calm that made Ellesmere go pale. “There’s a child lost its mother and parents lost their child. Whatever betrayal ye may be feeling, have a care for their grief at least or ye dinna deserve to call yerself a gentleman.”

The color returned to Ellesmere’s face in a rush of red but he simply clenched his fists in his chair as Jamie continued to stare down at him from his physically imposing height.

“Tha–thank you, MacKenzie,” Dunsany muttered weakly behind him. “I’ve sent my wife to fetch the child. We’ll be leaving with him this afternoon and––”

“No,” Ellesmere said with cold fury. “You’ll not be leaving this house with that child and playing the gracious grieving parents offering to raise him for me because I’m too distraught or whatever bullshit reason you give the gossip-mongers. I never touched your daughter and I’ll not have her bastard son as my heir.”

“I’ll take him.” The words were out of Jamie’s mouth before he’d even thought them and once again both Ellesmere and Dunsany were shocked into silence.

Swallowing and turning to begin pacing, Jamie was aware of the men’s attention on him while he scrambled to piece his impulse together into a plan.

“I’ll take the bairn and raise him as mine––a lad got on a kitchen maid that left and sent him to me rather than raise him herself,” Jamie said quickly. “As far as Lady Geneva goes, her bairn died and can be buried with her.” He turned to Ellesmere. “It frees ye of having a living heir ye dinna want and garners ye a bit more sympathy than a scandal would––or would ye rather word of yer… inabilities spread along with yer insinuations about yer late wife?”

Ellesmere glared at Jamie who stood holding the older man’s eye without flinching. He was vaguely aware of the throbbing pulse in the man’s throat, a subtle fluttering movement that was slightly out of sync with a twitch in the corner of the man’s right eye. Ellesmere blinked and Jamie let the breath he’d been holding go then turned to Dunsany.

“I ken it’s no how ye want the lad to come to yer house,” Jamie said with gentle understanding, a tone of voice he’d used frequently on skittish horses. “But he’ll be near ye and ye’ll have a chance to see him even if he canna know the truth of who ye are.”

“You propose to raise an infant on your own while working as a stablehand…” Dunsany summarized with obvious skepticism.

“I’m sure my employer will prove sympathetic to my plight having so recently lost a beloved child of his own. None would question such an impulse under the circumstances,” Jamie reasoned. “But… he would be mine. I’d have the final say over him.”

Dunsany’s mouth was drawn tight and grim but there was exhaustion and resignation in it too.

“Why? Why would you do such a thing?” Dunsany asked.

Jamie inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “My wife,” he said quietly, his voice barely managing not to break at the mention of Claire, at the thought of discussing her with these people, of bringing her memory into the light of day to be gawked at when he preferred keeping her to himself, cherished and protected. “My wife and I wanted… We lost our first at birth. It took time for her to get with child again… and then I lost them both together… I love my wife still and dinna mean ever to wed again… but it pains me to think I’ll no have a chance to be a father. A child without a father ought to have one and if I’m no to be father to my wife’s children, I should like to act as father to such a child.”

“If you want the bloody bastard you can have him,” Ellesmere said, unmoved by Jamie’s display of emotion. “I just want all of you out of my house and out of my life as soon as possible.”

But Jamie’s focus remained on Dunsany and the watery redness of his eyes. When Dunsany blinked his head moved in a subtle nod.

“William?” Lady Dunsany asked as she appeared at the door to the library with the blanket wrapped infant in her arms and Jeffries at her side, the pistols from the carriage clearly visible.

“Jeffries, those won’t be necessary,” Dunsany said, his voice thick but firm.

Dunsany crossed to his wife and whispered about the proposed arrangement. Lady Dunsany was shaking her head vehemently and clutching the tiny bundle to her tightly before Dunsany was even half-way through. Her eyes darted to Jamie, pleading, but then caught Ellesmere’s hard and unsympathetic expression. Dunsany moved to take the child from her arms but she shook him off and took the first few steps towards Jamie, her hold on the child never loosening.

“He’s called William,” she said firmly.

“Louisa,” Dunsany began to say but she interrupted him.

“It’s William; she gave him that name and I think it’s the least MacKenzie can do to call him by the name his mother gave him before she died.” The grief in her voice was strong but lent that strength to her resolve.

“Aye,” Jamie whispered looking to reassure the grieving grandmother. “William is a good strong name for the lad. My older brother was called William. May I hold him?”

With tears streaking down her cheeks, Lady Dunsany brushed the blanket aside so that she could look at the face of her sleeping grandson and trail a finger down his cheek before yielding him to Jamie’s large hands and strong, solid arms.

The child didn’t seem to weigh a thing and yet for the first time in more than a decade, Jamie felt as though his feet had a solid hold on the ground. The baby’s ears stuck out a little and his shut eyes appeared to slant a bit––nothing that blatantly suggested the child in his arms was his by blood to anyone in the room aside from him––but he couldn’t help swallowing against a lump the observation created in his throat. Claire had told him that Faith had those features when she’d held her; had they looked like this? The lad’s hair was darker than his own, promised to be a rich brown like his mother’s… like Claire’s.

The other people in the room faded from Jamie’s awareness as he gently rocked the sleeping bairn and made his way closer to the warmth of the fire; it was just him and his son. Had the child Claire carried with her through the stones been born with her hair, or his? Had that child looked like this child? Closing his eyes and focusing on the warmth of the small, fragile body in his arms, Jamie could almost convince himself that he was standing before the hearth in the laird’s room at Lallybroch with Claire resting in the bed behind him, that this son in his arms was somehow one of the many yearned for but unborn children he was supposed to have had with Claire in that life they were supposed to have lived together.

Fàilte mo mhac,” he said quietly then looked up and around until he spotted what he was looking for on Jeffries. He crossed and had the knife out of the paralyzed coachman’s belt.

“What are you doing?” Lady Dunsany screeched, similarly frozen as her eyes went wide seeing a blade so close to the baby.

But Jamie ignored her. William was sleeping securely and oblivious in the crook of Jamie’s right arm while he held the knife tight in that same hand and used his teeth to pull up the sleeve of his left arm so that nothing was in the way of that hand. The middle finger bent towards his palm and lightly pressed at the faint ‘C’ at the base of his thumb before he flexed the hand flat and guided the point of the knife a little further below the old scar. Blood of my blood and bone of my bone. His blood had mingled with Claire’s and was part of him, even now so many years later, she was and always would be a part of him. It was a shallower cut, only enough to raise a small line of blood, then he let the knife fall to the floor at his feet.

Is tusa Uilleam donn mac Sheumais ruaidh,” Jamie murmured as he smeared the blood across the boy’s forehead. The sensation caused the child to squirm and his eyes to peek open. “Aye… Mac Ruaidh mar tha mi Mac Dubh.”

Turning towards the shocked and wary faces of the Dunsanys and Ellesmere Jamie explained, “Now, he is of my blood.” My blood and Claire’s. With pride he claimed, “He is my son.”

anonymous asked:

If you want a writing prompt maybe kirk discovering a cluster of freckles on the nape of spock's neck?

ah hopefully this fit your prompt well enough!!

Constellations (find it on ao3 here)

“Spock?”

The dark silhouette remained still, framed in the doorway to the fresher. Jim blinked, then reached out a hand, making his voice softer, more honeyed.

“Spock. Come on, sweetheart. Come to bed with me. Please.”

Spock finally moved, walking towards Jim and settling on the edge of the bed, keeping his face turned away. He took off his socks but made no move to remove the Vulcan robes he had been wearing during meditation. Jim frowned a bit, catching the end of one of the trailing sleeves. A few weeks into their relationship, Spock had discovered just how comfortable Jim’s old loose t-shirts were, and refused to wear anything else to bed. For Spock to not take off his robes to sleep… well, it certainly planted worry in Jim’s head. “Aren’t you gonna take this off?” He asked, keeping his voice soft in the dim light.

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Quidditch Matches - Fred Weasley

Word Count: 4,223

Prompt: Fred and his Gryffindor girlfriend attend a Quidditch match together when other plans lead them back to Fred’s dorm room.

This is just based off and idea on what I could see happening if Fred Weasley brought his Gryffindor girlfriend to a Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin.

Warnings: Fluff, very light smut, mention of sex, unedited 


“Hurry up, love! We’re gonna miss the match if we don’t get there in time!” Whipping your head around you found the source of the voice. You rolled your e/c eyes abated at your eager boyfriend. Fred was practically dancing back and forth on his toes as he stood waiting for you in the light mist. His red hair was hidden under a dampen wool hat, the ends sticking to his skin.

“Give me a second, Fred. I just need to put my boots on.” You mumbled leaning up against the brick walls of the castle. Fred Weasley had been raving the entire week about the Quidditch match playing out Saturday night. It was set between Slytherin and Ravenclaw and for some reason your boyfriend was more than thrilled to attend. He managed to hook you in and when Saturday finally did roll around, the match was all he could talk about. At five o'clock on the dot Fred dragged you out of the Gryffindor common room, where most of your weekends were spent, before you could even get dressed for the occasion. You snatched your raincoat off the hook, lucky for you a pair of thin fleece gloves were buried in the pocket, your boots by the door, and a homemade tie blanket to sit on.

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