brown wrapping paper

Wrecked (Jikook Threesome)

I don’t know what to warn this. But it is pure smut and it has yaoi in it! If you don’t like it don’t read it. @silhouetted-beauty Helped me plan this out, so this is for you really <3 

You fidgeted with the box that you had currently been wrapping on your table, the tape not making your life easier as you tried to tape down the brown wrapping paper that had your doodles on it for your best friends. A soft growl rose from your throat, the corner of the left side of your mouth pushed up into a snarl. Your hair was everywhere from how you pulled it and raked your brains trying to figure out a solution to this hard task that was supposed to be simple. Clicking on your tongue when the box looked at least half decent, you made a motion to hop up from your kitchen table going towards your room to change from your long shirt that you slept in into something more appropriate for going out. Which actually in your mind wasn’t anything more covered up. Grabbing at white high waist shorts you slipped them on but not before putting on some fishnets that had a protective band around your waist ensuring the material would stay secure. Placing on your favorite red lace bra, you threw on a pink button down shirt, leaving the first three buttons undone you only snapped two below it in total before tying the ends in the front causing the shirt to rise and show a peak of the lower part of your belly button. Crossing into the bathroom feeling your excitement boil over practically, you set yourself in to curl your hair and pin it up, tying a bandana around it letting your bangs fall messily into your right eye. Your makeup was bold because at times you liked to be a bold girl- just not a scary one. Base and foundation a little blush also never hurt. Your eyebrows were drawn in to make them thick, your eyelashes curled and lined with mascara. You put pink eyeshadow around the bottom of your eyelid leaving the top to be a soft stroke of red as if it was fading out. You drew on wings on your eyelids finishing it off with red lipstick. Once you made sure you looked absolutely breathtaking you went to put on ankle boots not wanting to have to walk around town in heels all day.

Why were you getting so dressed up? Well your best friends Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook had just gotten back from tour. You had missed them terribly and while they were gone you also visited the states to stock up on their favorite snacks that couldn’t get brought in Korea and you made them something like a care package. You knew that the two should be home today, or at least the whole group, you hadn’t actually talked to them but considering they had down time you wanted to bet they would avoid the studio and the company building while they rested for at least a day. You had known Jimin and Jungkook before they debuted and you were lucky enough they kept you around to meet the rest of their friends deeming you as a best friend for life. And you were proud of all their hard work and everything they stood for. Grabbing at your house keys, you carried the large box in hand. As you walked to the curb to wait for a taxi all of you hoped that they were there, yes you should have asked but there’s no harm in coming over unannounced, right?

An hour later you were standing there in front of the dorm shaking off the nervous feeling you had in your stomach. You always got like this when it was time to come face to face with them again. It didn’t help that they were attractive as well, making you all the more nervous though you’ve practically spent all your time here with them. Walking up to their door, you knocked on the surface leaning against the door to see if you could hear anything. A pout soon graced your facial features as you were returned with nothing. Sighing you tried knocking once again and when you got no answer you called both phone lines that rang but never picked up. Sighing, you grabbed your spare key from your pocket (not even the manager knew you had it) so you had to pick and choose the right times to come over for his sake as well. You moved to open the door walking inside deciding to just leave the box there and wait for Jimin and Jungkook to tell you later how much they enjoyed the gift. At first, you decided to leave in on the table so that everyone would know it was from you but because you thought one of the elders would try to keep it for themselves you opted out and decided to head for their room.

“Ungh~ J-jimin.” You heard a deep male voice ring out with a cry of pleasure.

Your face heated up quickly, your ears felt like they were on fire and you prayed that you heard that wrong. Creeping towards the heavy breaths that quickly followed the moans of pleasure you ended up in front of one of the rooms. The door was ajar, open enough to see in but not wide enough to walk right in. What you saw almost made you drop the box. Jimin was on top of Jungkook, their naked bodies were pressed together, Jimin’s hand wrapped around Jungkook neck as he drove into him, fucking him senseless against the bed. Jimin was smirking looking down with hooded eyes at the male below him. Groaning from the pleasure as his hips slapped against Jungkook’s. His sweaty hair pressed against his forehead some falling into his eyes as he opened his mouth to whisper out to the pleading male.

“I’ve been waiting to fuck your ass for such a long time now don’t you know that? Seeing you do such sinful body rolls, how you kept teasing me biting those plump lips. You should be careful Jungkook, I’d hate for the hyungs to see you limp around wondering why your ass is so sore.” Jimin taunted earning husky moans from Jungkook.

“I did it just for you. I wanted you to fuck me until I couldn’t walk. I don’t get to have the pleasure often.” Jungkook groaned out rolling his head back in pleasure.

Jimin gripped at Jungkook’s member stroking it in time with his thrusts earning more shouts of pleasure from the vocalist. “Hmm sounds like someone enjoys that. You’re such a dirty boy baby. Do you like how I touch your cock? Does Jiminnie make you feel good?” Jimin taunted earning a strangled approval moan from Jungkook.

You almost dropped the box in your hands. You KNEW IT! You had tried multiple of times to ask Jimin and Jungkook about it and they denied that they were anything more than friends. It wasn’t until the latest broadcast of the Vapp that you figured they were lying to you trying to cover their asses. But now finally you had something to hang over their head! No more could they embarrass you. A soft groan from the room made you come back to the scene in front of you, your eyes were cast down to the floor as you had been lost in thought. Your panties becoming damp as you listened in on the lovers fucking. Your eyes roamed from the floor up to the bed and the dark eyes piercing through your own made you gasp out loud. Taking a step back to run you tripped over your feet, falling on your ass with the box almost falling onto the ground but you managed to catch it in your lap. Scooting backwards, your eyes stayed on Jimin as you backed up, seeing him smirk you tried to scramble off the floor but it was too late.

“Why don’t you come in here y/n.” Jimin gave Jungkook one last hard thrusts, a bit of anger washed through him that you had chosen the worst time to come over. He had been sexually frustrated since the tour started and all he wanted to do until the others come home was fuck into Jungkook.

“I-I no. I can come back.” You stammered moving to stand up as Jimin pulled out of Jungkook slowly locking his eyes with yours he gave a hard glare.

“I said, come in here.” Jimin demanded. Jungkook turned to look at you, a flush face and body he sat up slowly biting on his bottom lip. You could feel your legs pulling you forward but your mind screamed that it wasn’t a good idea to go home and talk to them later. Curiosity took over the best of you and without thinking you moved until you were standing in the front of both of them holding the box you got from them. You were so nervous that sweat started to build up on your forehead, and you squirmed in your spot.

“Why are your shoes still on?” Jungkook asked to cut through the awkward air trying to lighten the move.

“Yeah can I go now?” You asked softly placing the box down on the dresser that was against the wall.

“Why on earth would you want to leave now?” Jimin asked sarcastically giving a flustered smile. He was nervous, if you told anyone they would get teased forever and it wouldn’t be a good situation from there.

“Because my best friends are lying pieces of shit. But don’t worry I’ll make sure not to laugh when I tell Namjoon I was right all along.”

“You’re not telling anyone!” Jimin shouted moving to sit at the edge of the bed and you couldn’t help but let your eyes travel downwards to rest on his toned body and red shaft. It looked swollen and painfully hard.

“I will do whatever I please!” You snapped back at him when you came to your senses.

“Please don’t y/n.. No one else but you know..” Jungkook pleaded and you paused for a split second wishing you would just stop checking the both of them out, because Jungkook looked so thick and your mouth watered, they were both so sexy.

“You’re lying. Why should I believe you?!” You asked feeling your face heat up more, you don’t know why you were making this into such a big deal when it wasn’t even about you.

“Look, I know we lied to you but I promise! They don’t know about us. And we aren’t ready to tell them yet. We are still figuring things out enjoying each other. It’s safer this way.” Jimin pleaded. You growled softly, you didn’t want to believe them. But.. It would make sense why they were left behind when the rest weren’t here and how they acted so needy on camera.

“Listen. I don’t give a damn about what you do behind closed doors but they are your friends just like I am but if anything, they are more important and they deserve to know!” You stomped your foot about to walk off until Jimin gripped at your wrist to tug you back towards him.

“Look we already apologized what else do you want??” Jimin questioned sighing heavily. “Look you are our best friend besides the guys so we trust you but if we have to we will blackmail you.” Jimin said causing you to jerk your wrist from him. You were going to say something but in that moment Jungkook leaned over to whisper something to Jimin who was turning from stressed out to perked up and full of smiles.

“Actually.. That’s a great idea Jungkook.” Jimin smirked tilting his head. “I mean, it’s no secret you’re attractive as fuck.” Jimin moaned out standing up making his way over to you.

“Jimin.. This isn’t funny stop.” You warned in a shaky tone stepping back.

“What’s the matter? Can you honestly tell me you don’t want us? We have seen the way you look at us and I must admit you’ve been a reason I’ve stroked myself many nights. Thinking about those pretty pink lips around my hard cock. I bet your eyes would water up when I fuck that nice mouth of yours. Or maybe that nice tight pussy. It’s been a while since you’ve had sex, hasn’t it?” Jimin asked, coming up to stand in front of you, your feet had stopped moving you backwards. Some part of you liked the fucking attention both males were giving to you and you were starting to hate that part a bit. “I know you want it. And I bet you’re tight.” Jimin wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his hardened cock against your stomach, he gripped at your ass cheeks thrusting his hips backwards and forwards causing his thick appendage to rub across your skin.

“J-Jimin don’t you dare fuck with me.” You stammered before realizing what you just said. He gave you a smirk, and when you tried to open your mouth and change what had already been said, he replaced the air with his lips kissing you hungrily as his hands dug into your plump ass cheeks. His tongue darting out to lick the inside of your mouth causing a heated battle between the two of you. At first your movements were hesitant and shy but it didn’t take you long for your hands to be moving up to tangle into Jimin’s soft locks of hair. Jungkook watching the scene in front of him felt his cock twitch at the sight. You both looked so good together and he wanted in on the action. Standing up, he moved to stand behind you pressing his naked body against your back side, his hand sweeping around your front in between your legs that were trying to shut tight.

“Nuhuh, open them!” Jungkook commanded. You tried to rebel due to the fact that he was Jimin’s bottom but he was having none of that. Pulling your hair back he broke the kiss, making you strain to look up at him a dark glower in his eyes. “Don’t disobey me, or think for one second just because I let Jimin take over I won’t fucking wreck your little pussy or your tight ass.” Jungkook warned and Jimin chuckled breathing against your neck causing you to shudder as he licked a stripe up your skin.

“Don’t worry baby. We have a couple of hours, either way she’s going to be wrecked. She won’t even have a voice. She will be begging us not to stop.. Or to stop it doesn’t matter as long as she’s cumming on my cock.” Jimin stated as Jungkook let your hair go, Jimin’s hand gripping your chin forcing you to look at him. “You’re going to be daddy’s good girl, right?” He asked softly licking across your bottom lip, but the way he said it made you know that no matter what he was not asking he was telling. Your body was betraying you, your panties were becoming soaked and you were needy. Your breathing was hitched already from a fucking kiss. “Let’s get you undressed, shall we?” Jimin asked rhetorically as his hands moved up to cup your breast earning a slight moan from you. Jungkook leaned his head over to latch his lips onto your skin, sucking at your flesh causing you to squirm where you stood. Jimin messaged your breast through your bra, his fingers flicking across your nipples, Jungkook’s hand moved down between your legs that you opened for him voluntarily feeling him cup your sex rubbing your clothed pussy with his hand.

“Can you feel how hot she is Jimin? I bet she’s so wet right now. Thinking about what we will do to her.” Jungkook teased, his hand raising to slip inside of your shorts and past the barrier of your thigh highs even your panties, his long fingers brushing against your wet clit before a finger slid up and down your slit causing you to mewl in pleasure. “Well would you look at that. It’s an ocean down here. I didn’t know you got off watching men fuck.” Jungkook taunted playing with your slit before he went to pinching on your throbbing bud. “Such a dirty slut.” He whispered against your ear causing you to bite on your bottom lip.

Jimin started to work on your shirt undoing it and pulling it off you. You were in his favorite red bra you just didn’t know it. Or did you? Because even though you were all friends you always had a way of teasing him. Jimin leaned down to lick the top of your breast, his hands squeezing your mounds in his hand before he dips his tongue down the valley of your flesh. You pushed your hips down against Jungkook’s hand who was sliding a finger inside of you thrusting it slowly while your bra was removed. “I can’t wait to fuck these.” Jimin admitted throwing your bra somewhere behind him, leaning forward he teased you with his tongue, swiping across your flesh but never staying too long. Using his teeth to bite at your nipple and pull the flesh with his fingers. Your mouth opened as tiny moans of his name came out of your mouth.

“You’re so cooperative. Had I known you would have been so ready to fuck, we would have let you join a long time ago.” Jimin chuckled deeply.

“F-fuck. You.” You spat through clenched teeth as Jungkook added another finger inside of you, stroking your inner walls with his thick fingers burying them to the hilt, slowly stretching you out.

“No baby.” Jimin stated looking up in your eyes. “I’m going to fuck you.” It was the way he said it that had your legs buckling as your hands gripped onto your shorts. He chuckled wrapping his lips around your left nipple sucking on it harshly, his tongue sliding up and down your perked-up nipple while his free hand played with your other breast. Jungkook searched for your spot, thrusting his fingers in different directions until he found it earning a sharp cry from your lips. He smirked using his fingers to plunge deep into your heat using his legs to spread you wider as Jimin got on his knees to suck more at your breast. You could hear the wet sounds of Jungkook’s fingers slamming inside of you.

“Does it feel good? Do you like how I finger fuck you princess?” Jungkook asked, brushing his thumb against your clit. He was staring to pick up his speed but when you didn’t answer, he stopped holding his fingers in place his free hand gripping at your chin forcing your head back once again as you whined. “If I ask you something you will answer. Or you will leave here one frustrated woman.” His eyes burned into yours and you nodded your head in understanding not wanting to try him out on his threat. “Good girl, tell me you like it.” Jungkook gave a half smirk his fingers slamming in and out of you at a fast pace.

“Holy shit! I love it Jungkook- please it feels so good! I love your fingers stretching out my pussy!” You cried out with a flushed face. Jimin kissed down your body moaning at your sounds, gripping at your shorts he undid them in a hurry, pulling them down your legs and taking off your shoes. Instead of keeping your fishnets intact, he started to rip them from your core opening you up for him. He could see the water that collected in your panties, he could see it dripping down the inside of your thighs as Jungkook’s fingers worked on your body. He looked up at you, moving his hands back to play with your breast.

“Jungkook! Jungkook I’m going to cum!” You cried out, your body was shaking, goosebumps rising on your skin from the pleasure your pussy was speaking loud and clear with the lewd noises, your makeup would have been ruined had it not been water proof.

“Cum for me baby.” Jungkook rasped out. You were still trying to hold out, watching as Jimin destroyed your fishnets to place open wet kisses along your skin. “Please. Please cum for me.” Jungkook almost begged, his hips rolling against your ass. Feeling his stiffened member between your ass cheeks as he used his fingers to fuck you was too much. Your stomach tightened and legs gave way as you nodded your head your cum spilling onto his fingers. Jungkook harshly bit on your ear moaning seductively as he rode out your orgasm with you, his fingers curling inside of you to get everything the wetness that trickled down your thighs getting sucked up by Jimin.

Jimin pulled down your panties, looking at your glistening center as Jungkook toyed with your pussy before he pulled his fingers back slowly. He brought his fingers up to your lips, waiting for you to open your mouth. Parting your lips, you almost gagged on his fingers as Jungkook shoved them down your throat making you taste yourself, Jimin wasting no time through one of your legs over his shoulder attacking your pussy with his mouth. He latched onto your center, his lips wrapping around your clit as he harshly sucked. His tongue was pressing down against the throbbing pink clit, the flat of his tongue roughly moving up and down as he sucked on you. Your cries were choked back by the fingers that were brushing down the back of your throat, a spit trail starting to escape your mouth and dance down the sides. Jimin kept your legs open, using his mouth to cover your pussy, his tongue flicked rapidly up and down your slit, his hands moving to spread your pussy lips wide. He shoved his warm tongue inside of your pussy groaning at the taste. Your mind was blown, you had no words for how you felt but you knew you wanted to please them as much as you were getting pleased. Your hand reached around you to grab at Jungkook’s shaft. You pumped him dry at first, causing his hips to buck up against your hand as he pulled his fingers from your mouth. He looked over your shoulder, reaching his dry hand down to grab at Jimin’s head pushing it closer to your pussy causing you to both moan out. Jungkook let the tip of his cock pressed against your ass cheeks, opening your plump flesh with one hand he let his thumb press against the ring of your tight asshole.

“I can’t wait. To bury my dick to the hilt inside of your pussy. And fuck you until you can’t even beg for mercy.” He groaned against your ear causing you to release a whimper from your lips, your hand squeezing at his tip to gather precum from his tip. Jungkook groaned looking down at how painfully hard he was, your hand wasn’t going to do it.

“Jimin.” He rasped out, his own neediness coming out. Jimin looked up from your pussy, his hands rubbing up and down the insides of your thighs as his mouth moved on your pussy, his tongue wiggling on your insides causing you to grow wetter from the motions of his tongue. Jimin looked from your pussy up to Jungkook and back to you, he pulled back slowly licking his lips and standing up.

“I want you to suck Jungkook off.” Jimin gripped onto your arm turning you around. You got on your knees, looking up at Jungkook you gripped his shaft running your tongue along the underside of his cock causing him to shudder and slap your hand away. He positioned his cock at your mouth pushing it inside. His hand gripping at your curls fucking them up as he brought your head down onto his shaft face fucking you harshly. His moans filled the room as he snapped his hips against your face his balls hitting your chin. Jimin laid on his back, spreading your legs wide he caused you to straddle him making you ride his face. Your moans only aided Jungkook in feeling more pleasure, pushing his cock down your throat watching as it disappeared between your lips. Your red lipstick was coming off your lips and becoming smeared as he pressed against your face. He cupped your cheeks with his free hand slapping your cheek as he watched you.

“Look at all that pretty red lipstick getting smeared over my dick. I never knew you took it so well, you look like you’ve found where you belong. On your knees for me.” Jungkook taunted you licking his lips as he saw you moan from it. Jimin could feel your walls tighten around his tongue, his fingers going up to brush against your clit aiding his work on your pussy. Your hand reached down to grip his hair, tears brimming in your eyes from both the stretch and the pleasure, you were crying out around Jungkook’s swollen shaft that stretched out your jaw. You tried to pull back to get Jimin to let up but Jungkook was holding you down making you take him. Your legs trembled as you looked up at him, face fucked as well as your pussy, your second orgasm rippling through you and causing your hips to grind harshly against Jimin’s face. He gripped at your ass cheeks keeping you in place continuing to suck you clean until he felt you were done. He pulled back from you sliding from under your body he motioned to the bed with his head for Jungkook to see. Jungkook pulled back from you slowly, helping you up he pushed you down on the bed, your front half against the bed but the rest of your body standing. Your legs spread wide for him, his hands stroking at your sides.

“I’m actually glad you told us all about you being on the pill. Now I can fill this pussy up as much as I want to and not have to worry about getting you pregnant.” Jungkook stroked his slick shaft that was wet from your spit. Rubbing his head up and down your slit he watched as you tried to claw at the bed and move. He found it adorable that you didn’t want to beg for mercy when your body was fully red and reacting to every little touch. Jungkook slid inside of you slowly, causing a moan to ripple from both your lips as he filled you to the brim. His hands gripping at your hips he started to bring you backwards slamming you down on his shaft moaning from the pleasure. His hips slapping against yours, his thick length pushed deep inside of your walls resting against your spot. He buried himself deep as much as you could take he gave it all to you thought he saw you wincing and trying to squirm. He snapped his hips forward, rolling them in part to tease Jimin and in part to hit your spot just the right way. Jimin was frustrated he was so horny, watching you get fucked against the bed your body sliding up and down the wrinkled sheets as your fingers dug into the fabric was too overwhelming and all his blood was south. He took in a sharp breath as you looked up at him, moaning out Jungkook’s name with swollen lips. He growled gripping at your hair, he lifted your head and pressed your lips against his cock. You opened your mouth to take him in, he was thick like Jungkook, you could see why the other didn’t mind him fucking him from behind. Your tongue rolled against his heated shaft, pressing against his slit and nibbling on his tip you grazed your teeth across his flesh every once in a while. Your whole body felt stuffed, the only thing that wasn’t full was your asshole but Jungkook was working to change that, his thumb sliding inside of your tight ring of muscle causing you to jump.

“Relax and take it. Take it all.” Jungkook mumbled, his other hand moving to slap at your ass cheeks, listening to the sound resonate against the walls. He watched your flesh bounce, stopping his hips he slapped your ass again. “I want more. Fuck yourself on my dick. I want to see this ass bouncing on me. Don’t disappoint me y/n. Show me and Jimin what you can do.” You were eager to prove to them that you were good when it came to pleasing people. Lifting up to press your hands against the mattress, your hips pressed back as you fucked yourself on Jungkook’s shaft, he was entering you deeply, it felt so good to have his stiff pole inside of you and though you couldn’t see him you knew he was having a hard time controlling himself. You picked up the pace, your hips snapping back to meet his, your ass was bouncing as you rocked your hips and rode him. Soon switching from just going back and forth to going in a circle and winding your hips, you could hear Jungkook moan in pleasure behind you, his large hand landing more blows on your ass cheeks. Jimin reached over with his free hand dragging his nails up your spine sending a chill through your body and it almost made you fall against the bed with how it shook your body. Jimin smirked, grabbing at Jungkook’s hair he brought him in for a kiss letting Jungkook taste your sweetness on his tongue. While they shared a heated kiss, you tried to handle both fucking Jimin’s dick with your mouth and Jungkook’s dick with your pussy. You were starting to slow down, trying to not crumple but the pleasure was too much and the overstimulation was creeping into your system. It seems neither of them were having it. Jimin pulled back from the kiss, thrusting his hips against your face causing you to gag as he shoved his dick into your mouth trying to push it far down your throat not satisfied until he could hear you choking and feel your nose brush against the base of his dick against his pubic hairs.

“Fuck her Jungkook. Fuck her.” He moaned out looking down at how your hips connected before he looked in the male’s eyes. His face was covered in red and sweat, his abs tightened up, Jimin knew he was close he knew he had to feel good. He smirked lazily, feeling his own stomach tighten but he was going to hold out for now. “Harder, fucking wreck her Jungkook.” Jimin growled slapping your ass causing Jungkook to speed up slamming as hard as he could into you. Jimin pulled away from your mouth to hear your broken sobs, your hands moving back to grab at his hips.

“Mercy Jungkook! Please Jungkook slow down oh god!” You cried out, tears going down your face from how he fucked you like you were a rag doll. Your body craved it, your pussy felt a hint of soreness but it was a good mix from it. You didn’t know what you wanted, to beg him to stop or keep going but your mouth was shouting out incoherent things. Jungkook gripped at your wrist pinning them down against the bed as he rammed into you, his hips slapping against yours so hard that the bed was shaking in protest under you. He could feel your wet pussy tightening around his cock, how you gripped him like a vice. He rolled his head back letting out a husky cry of your name. He had to hold out, he tried to distract himself not to come but his balls tightened up and he didn’t know how long he could hold it.

“I’m cumming! Jungkook! H-ahh Jungkook!” You breathed out heavily, your eyes were rolling back from the pleasure, he shoved himself inside of you, his strokes causing you to cum, your body trembling against the bed as you fell flat on it, your body was hot and covered with sweat, Jungkook lifted up one of your legs, holding it with his arm as he pinned your hips to the bed, losing himself in his own pleasure. His warm cum filling up your insides as he slowed down himself pulling out of you. His cum trickling down the inside of your thighs and onto the bed. Your heart hammered in your chest, but Jimin hadn’t had his turn yet. He gripped you by your hips flipping you over on your back. Staring up at him, you braced your hands on his chest as he rubbed his tip at your entrance.

“N-no Jimin I’m still dirty.” You whimpered slightly feeling your pussy trying to push out all of Jungkook’s cum.

“I like it that way.” He gave you a devilish smile pushing slowly into you. Jimin used Jungkook’s cum to slide inside of you causing you to blush and groan at the same time. He gripped at your neck lightly, rolling his hips against yours, his dick smearing all of Jungkook’s cum around your walls. “How does it feel to be our sloppy seconds?” Jimin asked causing a groan to leave your lips. He pulled out of you starting to fuck you at a slow pace, adjusting your pussy to his size now, some cum trickling out of your pussy as he pulled back only to push back inside of you. Jungkook moved sit on the bed by your head watching as Jimin created a medium pace rocking his hips against yours. His biceps popping out as he concentrated on bringing you pleasure, his free hand pressing down into the bed. You rolled your head back enjoying the feeling of being fucked by Jimin, you could see that Jungkook was starting to get turned back on, his half erect member becoming harder the longer he watched your breast bounce or Jimin snap his hips forward to bury himself deeper inside of you.

“Fuck you’re so wet and warm. Nice and tight, which I don’t get because Jungkook just ruined you.. But I know.” Jimin smiled pulling out of your pussy, he spread your legs open wide, laying you back on the bed, his tip pressed against your asshole, you froze up immediately, Jimin rubbed your clit causing half of you to come down as he slowly entered you from behind. You inhaled a sharp breath your eyebrows squeezing together as the pain took over your ass.

“Just relax. It’ll feel better I promise.” Jungkook kissed you sweetly, his hands played with your nipples as they both worked together to distract you. Jimin stayed in place, it was hard for him not to just snap into you but you were so tight, your ass felt so warm and it snuggled him in like Jungkook’s did. He felt like he could cum from just the feeling. Once he felt you relax a little bit, he started to thrust inside of you, hearing your soft moans from the kiss. Jimin sped up slowly, using his hips to his advantage finding spots that would make you moan out more for him. Jungkook getting too lost in the battle of your tongues slipped his hand down to your clit, rubbing it and causing your hips to buck up more. He broke the kiss to crawl on your stomach, gripping your breast he slid his cock through them, fucking your breast as he watched your flustered face. He was surprised that you wrapped your tongue around his head to suck on the swollen shaft, he shuddered as Jimin reached forward to kiss along his neck, his fingers digging into Jungkook’s ass cheeks. Jungkook leaned over you, grabbing at your hair, you replaced his hands on your breast holding it for him so that he could thrust properly against you. Your tongue flicked up and down his slit wanting to give him as much pleasure as you could. You could hear Jimin moaning from behind the both of you, and you knew that he was getting close to cumming. Jimin gripped at your thighs leaning down to press hickeys against your hips as you took care of Jungkook. But Jimin wanted you to ride him so he kept a slow pace watching as Jungkook lost himself.

He was so out of it fucking your warm wet mouth along with your breast on each side of his cock sucking him in was too much. Jungkook didn’t know how he was cumming so fast, but he was pulling back letting his warm cum paint your pretty face in a mess. He moaned as he tried to avoid your eyes not wanting to mess up a good moment. He slowly slid off you, Jimin took one look at you and let a growl ripple through him. You look exhausted and thoroughly fucked. Grabbing at your hips he scooped you up sitting you in his lap. Jimin bounced you, your hands bracing back on his legs as he fucked into you. Your hips slammed down as you tried to move them squeezing your hole around his cock, you used your fingers to scoop the cum off your face and lick it clean. Jungkook leaned over trying to suck on your clit and rub it while you too pushed back against each other, Jimin leaned forward to crash his lips against yours shoving two fingers inside of your pussy. Curling them he found your spot, thrusting them as deep as he could until he felt you shaking on top of him. At this point it was burning to cum but even you wanted to get one more out, the soreness not stopping you as you pushed your body. You listened to the both of them moan along with what else they were doing to you and in no time, you were cumming for Jimin again, your nails scratching into his thighs as you cried out with your head rolled back. Jimin watched you, his eyes glued to how your face contorted in pleasure, how your mouth hung open. Raising his hips to continue pounding into you, Jimin held your hips down as he filled you up with his cum taking deep breaths. He fell back on the bed, and you needed Jungkook’s help to lay down.

“You’re not tired, already are you?” Jungkook playfully teased you stroking your hair from your face.

“Seriously you don’t need to fuck me anymore I won’t tell a soul.” You complained hating that your pussy was getting excited for another round.

“Well regardless you can’t tell because now you’ve fucked us. And imagine what the guys would say if they found that out? Especially Taehyung.” Jimin snickered looking up at the ceiling glad that they thought this plan through.

“I really hate you.” You whined out loud rolling on your back, you didn’t expect it but Jimin was over you in a flash grinding his half hard shaft against your swollen lips causing you to gasp.

“In that case. Maybe I should fuck it out of you.” He leaned down purring as he pressed his lips against yours.

I have been waiting forever to share this with people who would appreciate it but I had to wait until they went public about it.

SO. On Christmas Eve my brother came over to celebrate Christmas with the family like he always does. My gift is a giant brown paper wrapped package tied with string. I opened it up and SUPRISE

The hard cover harry potter book collection. I have always wanted once since I was removed from my moms house and her boyfriend destroyed my old copies. So this was like, the greatest present ever because it was sooo expensive. So I open it up to bask in its glory when I notice the Chamber of Secrets is turned over. I just thought it was a packing mistake so I go to flip it over and a little blue sock falls out.

And by now I’m like WAIT.

and in the sock is a little note for me.

“We solemnly swear we were up to no good and because we managed to get into some mischief, it looks like you’re finally free to be the best aunt ever!”

AHHHHHHHHHH


I just wanted to share probably the BEST announcement ever with you guys. I am so happy and excited. I have nicknamed it “Dobby” because they are waiting to find out the gender until it’s born. 

Have You Seen This Painting of A Hallway?

I got this package in the mail from my dad: brown paper wrapping, large but flat, with the word “FRAGILE” written on it in black ink. When I unwrapped it, it was this big, acrylic painting, framed in some sort of bronze-gilded plaster.

The painting itself was of this long hallway full of doors, kind of like you’d see in a fancy hotel. The walls had edging about halfway up, the upper part was painted sort of an off white while the lower half was a crimson red that blended into the carpeting. Between each door was an up-turned light, as well as on the far wall at the end, where the corridor seemed to connect to another hallway running perpendicular to it, disappearing around a corner.

It was really amazing detail, though I wouldn’t call it life-like by any means. Just the sheer amount of intricate pieces to each aspect of the scene showed that the artist really paid attention to every little thing, like somewhere in the world was this hallway, and you could stand in it and hold the painting up in front of you and if it weren’t for the border and the clearly stylized art, you wouldn’t be able to tell where the canvas ended and the real world began.

I called him up and thanked him immediately.

“But where’d you find this?”

“I got it at an auction.”

I kinda figured as much.

So I hung up the painting in my office, just behind my desk, which I realized later wasn’t the best place for it because in order to actually look at it, I had to swivel completely around, but there wasn’t anywhere better really, and once I’d gotten it hung up, I felt less willing to take it back down, so I just left it there. It kind of hung out over my shoulder and watched me work, and every now and then I’d turn around and stare at it and get entranced by it, feeling like I could get up and put my hands in the frame and climb into the painting as if the frame were a window.

Of course, I wouldn’t be writing this if something weird didn’t happen as a result of the painting.

We had a couple friends over, Marc and Sabina, and Marc and I went into my office when the women-folk started talking about knitting, which has become my wife’s new favorite hobby. I went and sat down at my laptop to find a video I had been telling Marc about, and Marc wandered over and started admiring the painting.

“Where’d you get that?”

“My dad bought it at an auction and gave it to me.”

“It’s creepy.”

“It’s not that creepy. It’s kind of… I don’t know.”

“Hypnotic?”

“Yeah.”

I turned around to look at it with him while the video loaded. He got up close and was running his finger over the canvas, feeling the raised acrylic, and I just let my gaze wander over all the details again.

“Huh, I didn’t notice that before.”

“What?”

“At the end of the hall, there’s some sort of light coming from around the corner, and it’s casting a shadow on the floor.”

I got up and looked closer, because I really hadn’t spent a lot of time studying the far end of the hallway. There was definitely some yellow and some darker colors making what looked like the shadow of a person coming from around the corner. I even reached out and touched it to make sure it wasn’t some trick of the light in the study making it just look like there was this shadow in the painting, but I felt the paint and sure enough it was actually there in the painting.

“See what I mean?” Marc said, “Creepy.”

I genuinely felt weirded out by it. It was one of those moments where you start thinking, Why didn’t I notice this earlier? Was it there to notice?

A couple days later, I was working on a project in my study, and it was like 9:30 at night, and I just couldn’t focus, so I spun around in my chair to look at the painting and I felt this sudden vertigo effect, like the ground wasn’t there and I had to grab my chair to keep from tumbling into emptiness.

You wouldn’t have noticed it if you hadn’t looked at the painting a hundred times like I had. The hallway was long, with exactly six doors. I remember, because I counted them the first day. three on the left, three on the right, each with a little shiny, metal doorknob.

Only now there were seven doors. Three on the left, four on the right. It didn’t make sense. Everything looked proportionally exactly the same, and the far end of the corridor was just as far away, and yet there was a fourth door in the right side of the hallway, with its little metal doorknob. I don’t even know which door was the fourth door, that’s how well it blended in, I just know that there were four doors where once there were three.

“What the hell is going on?”

I turned away in my chair and back to check several times and make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me, but the number of doors remained constant.

I called my dad again and I asked him, “Is this a trick painting you sent me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it keeps changing. I can see it changing.”

“Not as far I know. It was just one in a bunch I picked up all at the same auction.”

After I got off the phone I took the painting down and checked the back for some some of mechanical or digital hocus pocus, but it was all soft canvas so I left it on the floor behind my office chair with the painting facing the wall because the thought of it was freaking me out.

The next day I pulled my wife into my office and held the painting up so she could see it because she hadn’t had a chance to before.

“How many doors are there?” I asked.

She looked it over for a moment. “Seven.”

“When I first got this, there were six.”

She just looked at me like I was being a goofball. “Okay, so which one wasn’t there before?”

“I have no idea.”

“You don’t know which door magically appeared?” and she laughed and gave me a kiss and went back into the other room.

It gets worse.

The next time I chatted with Marc, I told him about the extra door in the painting.

“Are you sure there weren’t seven doors to begin with?”

“Well, I would swear I counted six.”

“Well, if another one shows up, at least Melissa counted seven, and can confirm it then. You know what you should do? You should take a photo of the painting so you can prove it if anything else changes.”

What a great idea, so I got my phone and took a photo of the painting.

Two days went by. Nothing.

On the third day, I walked into my office and there was a man staring at me. Well, I mean… it wasn’t… I can’t say that it was a man or a woman. Hell, I can’t say that it was human. There was a shape at the end of the hallway in my painting. It was oddly lacking in the detail that the rest of the painting had, like someone had hurriedly painted it on. I even ran my hand over it to make sure it wasn’t fresh, that someone hadn’t actually come in and painted over my painting to drive me crazy.

It was really there.

And the look of it scared me more than anything else, changing painting included. I wish I could do it justice with words, but the best I can describe it is that it was human-ish, with legs and arms, but it seemed squat, or hunched, and lopsided, like someone had slapped a blurry Quasimodo onto an otherwise beautiful painting. You couldn’t see the details of its face, but you could see shading on it, defining really warped features. I was almost glad that there wasn’t more detail to it, except that it left just enough to the imagination to give one nightmares.

But I had proof! Here was proof that the painting was changing. So I brought up the file on my laptop to show my wife for comparison, only when I did, the figure was in the photo I took too!

At no point did I start questioning my sanity about all this. Something unnatural and terrifying was going on, so I took the painting out of the house and set it on the curb where we put our trash for pickup. I was so done with that painting.

Or so I thought.

The next evening, when I got home from work, it was gone from the curb. I figured someone had seen it and taken it home, and I waved my hands and said, “Good, now it’s someone else’s problem.” I went in, played with daughter, had dinner, put them to bed, and after watching a show with my wife, went into my office to check my email.

No, the painting wasn’t back on the wall. I made sure of that the moment I walked in the door.

But I got a message from Marc, asking if the painting had changed anymore, and I told him about the creepy new addition and also how I had gotten rid of the painting.

“Oh man, that sounds cool. I wish I’d gotten a chance to see it.”

“Well, I can send you the photo I took of it.”

“Cool.”

So I opened the image file.

The thing in the painting had raised its arms.

Before, you could only barely make out the arms hanging at its sides, but now both arms were raised up over its head, and its fingers were spread apart like it was waving hello at me. I think it was waving hello at me.

I zoomed in, as best as I could without pixelating the image, and the shaded contours of the face seemed stretched into a grin.

Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

I sent Marc the file, but the connection kept fucking up, so I put it in a folder on my dropbox account and gave him access to it.

“The file’s corrupted.” He texted me.

I tried to open it as well, but he was right. Every time I copied the image file, somehow it got corrupted.

“It must be the spooky magic.” Marc joked.

“This is no joke. I’m freaking out here.”

“Delete the file if it’s scaring you so bad.”

So I deleted the file.

But it gnawed at me, you know? The painting was still changing, in horrible, terrifying ways, seemingly acknowledging my observation of it, and now it was gone. But if it was gone, why should it matter? If something unholy happens, it’s the problem of whoever has the painting now, right? And they’ll see it changing too, won’t they?

“Oh shit.”

It was two days later, and I was organizing a folder of documents and had accidentally deleted a couple I hadn’t meant to. I went into the Windows recycling bin and –you guessed it– there was the image file along with the documents.

I had to look. I was trembling with dread at the thought of it, but when something so surreal happens to you, you have to witness it and see it through to the end.

I recovered the file and opened it.

The walls of the hallway seemed to be melting. The partition separating the red from the off-white was lower than it had been before, and drooped in places. The ridge on the lights looked like they were peeling off. The carpet seemed less crimson and more reddish brown.

And the figure had taken several steps down the corridor toward the viewer’s perspective. More details had become defined: hair hanging off its head, long and black like it had been painted with a fine-tipped brush, the eyes were little more than dull black points under the shading of the brow. The grin came with teeth, uneven and fat, like those of a child more than an adult. Its arms were extended out on either side of it, touching both walls. One foot was ahead of the other, as if I had caught it mid-step in a game of red light/green light.

I realized I was panting and shaking as I looked at it. It was really hard to breathe, an anxiety attack. The painting was going to make me pass out, just from looking at a digital photo of it.

Quickly, I closed the image to calm myself down, but that suddenly brought forth the thought, What if it progresses every time I look away? The only way to stop it is to keep looking! and I opened the file again.

No change. Oh– no, wait, that wasn’t a new change, I had noticed it before, but it hadn’t dawned on me. One of the doors was open. There was a dim blue light coming from the room inside, moonlight I thought. And just outside the threshold of the door, there was an object lying on the floor.

I zoomed in for better detail.

It was a little, yellow, stuffed lion with a scraggly, orange mane. A child’s toy. Of all the details, the melting hallway, the grinning fiend with arms wide open, the blue light from the open doorway, it was the innocent nature of that little toy lion that filled me with the most dread.

My wife came into the office.

“Come kiss Gabby goodnight.”

I went into her darkened room, where she was wrapped up in blankets in her bed, hugging a half dozen stuffed animals and looking cute as could be. My little darling. I love her so much.

I kissed my daughter goodnight. She kissed me back and hugged her little pillowpet with the built in night light. It glowed through a variety of colors.

“I love you, baby.” I told her.

“Can you get my Simba?”

I looked around. “Where’d you leave it?”

“Over there.” She pointed to the closet. The door was open, and her toy lay on the floor just inside.

Simba, her little, yellow, stuffed lion with the scraggly, orange mane.

Seeing it lying there, just past the threshold of the closet door, while the dim glow of my daughter’s night light faded from red to purple to blue, I felt my heart rise up in my chest. The closet was just a closet. I could see it was just a closet. There were clothes on hangers and bags with toys and blocks in them. They were right there. And yet, as I looked at the stuffed lion lying on the floor, waiting for me, I felt as if I could see carpeting on the floor inside the closet, even though there was none. Carpeting, not in my vision, but in my imagination. And maybe if I went in and shut the door, I’d find that the walls beyond those clothes had a wooden partition, red below, off-white above.

And maybe there was something hunched and terrible shambling its way toward us even as I stood there staring at that toy.

I walked, briskly, trying not to look half as frightened as I was, snatched up Simba and shut the closet door. My breathing was heavy, like I’d just run a mile, and I struggled to avoid gasping for breath as I tried to calm myself down.

“Hey, did that poster fall down?” I asked nobody in particular, then pretended I was trying to adjust a cat poster that had been on the floor by her dresser for months, and shoved the heavy dresser over so that it partially blocked the closet door.

“Here’s Simba, sweety.” I handed the lion to Gabby, gave her a quick hug and kiss, and wished her goodnight before rushing back to my office.

The painting had changed, as I knew it would. The open door was closed, the toy gone from the floor, the hallway was dimly lit with yellow light from the melting lights again. But the thing, that not-quite-human fiend, was standing right outside the now shut door, its body turned to face it with both hands pressed up against the door itself like it was running its hands down it, caressing it, and its head turned toward me, still grinning that awful, frightening grin full of gnashed, crooked teeth.

Oh God how close had it been? No, it’s just a closet! The hallway is not there. It’s not real. None of this is real.

I’ve put up signs around the neighborhood, knocked on doors, asked everyone I know and many I don’t if they know who took the painting. I need to find it and get it back. I want to tear it, shred it in my hands, throw it in a fire and watch it burn to ashes. Jesus God in Heaven, I hope it didn’t end up in some landfill.

I’ve learned the awful truth… All Doors Lead To The Hallway

Forever and Always- Dylan O’Brien

Author- @maddie110201

Pairing- Dylan x Reader

Words- 3600

Warnings- some cheesy ass fluff, smut, slight daddy kink, swearing, unprotected sex ( wrap it in foil before you check her oil kids) idk what else

AN: SURPRISE!!!!!! With all these new pics and gifs of Dylan at tonights met game I had gained so much inspo! This wasnt really a request but @skepticalstilinski said someone should write about dyl and his jersey so i jumped at the chance! I wrote this in two hours and no its no proofread so sorry for any mistakes. (I just read this myself and I realized I switch between 1st and 2nd POV sooo much. Bare with me and I will try to edit it tmr). 


You and Dylan had been together for 4 years now and you could honestly say that you were head over heels in love with that man. You’ve lived together in a small 2 bedroom, 2 bath house for 2 years now. It was perfect for just the two of you.

Dylan was the type of person who was so chill and laid back. Yes he was famous, but he didn’t let that change who he was, and I loved him more because of it. In my eyes Dylan was just a normal guy. We met in a bar on my 21st birthday. The mets were playing on the tv’s and it was surprisingly quite dead. I was at the bar ordering shots when the Mets had scored a homerun and out of the corner of my eye the brown eyes beauty jumped to his feet, pumping his fist in the air, and hollering at the tv.

“Two shots please!” I yelled out to the man behind the bar. My best friend had ran off to the bathroom and I was now standing alone at the the counter ordering us shots for when she returned. It was pretty dead in here for a Friday night, but then again this place was on the outskirts of town where no one really went.

“Woooo baby!” I heard from across the bar. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw a man with his back to me. He has black jeans on, a white mets jersey, and a black hat with the mets logo on it placed backwards on his head. I turned my body to take in his appearance more. He hadn’t turned around yet so I wasn’t able to see his face, but from what I could see from the back of him he was hot. I giggled at the little scene he just made, a smile adorning my lips. It wasn’t meant to be loud It he definitely heard it.

He turned around looking for the culprit of the noise and that’s when your eyes met his. You were right, he was just as hot as the back of him. You eyes roamed his face, landing on the stubble spread sporadically across his chin. It wasn’t a lot but definitely enough to leave a burning sensation between your thighs.

“Hi” he spoke softly. You hadn’t realised he had moved closer to you and your cheeks turned red as you realised you were staring.

“Hi” you muttered. It came out quieter than you had intended but he still heard it.

“So what are you doing here all alone on your birthday?” He questioned, pointing to the golden sash placed around your upper half.

“Oh I’m not alone, my friend just went to the bathroom” Just as the words left my mouth You caught my best friend out of the corner of my eye on the dance floor with some guy she just met. “On second thought, she’s right there” You added with a chuckle and a slight grin.

“Well if you don’t mind I could keep you company?” He stated, sounding more like a question.

“I don’t mind at all” You responded. “So what’s a guy like you doing here all by himself?” His eyes were boring into yours with such intensity. His eyes were the color of honey and they were absolutely mesmerizing. His tongue poked out and wet his lips, the thought of his tongue making you shake coming back to the forefront of your mind.

“I wanted a drink but didn’t have any at home and also wanted to watch the game so I thought this was the perfect place,” he gave you a soft smile.

“I see, I’m guessing you also didn’t want somewhere crowded in case someone recognized you?” He smile faded and his eyebrows furrowed. “You know who I am?” He quizzically asked you.

“Of course I do, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable”

“I appreciate that” he softly spoke, a breath being released brim his chest.

He turned away from you for a slight second to look at the screen. An even bigger smile spread across his cheeks as his eyes landed on the score.

“How long have you been a fan?” I asked the very attractive man in front of me. He turned back to me with a smirk.

“Forever and always” he simply replied. “Are you a Mets gal?”

“Forever and always”

Over the four years that you had been together, you watched every single Mets game. It didn’t matter whether it was in a restaurant, at your house, or in a Stadium. You never missed a game, and every single time Dylan was clad in his White Mets jersey and his black Mets hat. This quickly became your favorite sight. Not only did you find it incredibly attractive seeing him so passionate about something, he looked good while doing it. His jersey clung to his back as he was hunched over with his elbows on his knees, outlining every one of his back muscles. His hat perched on top of his luscious locks that you so desperately wanted to run your fingers through while he pounded you into oblivion. You crossed your legs and rubbed them slightly together trying to create some kind of friction as the heat began spreading throughout your body at the dirty thoughts running through your mind.

“You alright baby?” He questioned, his eyes still glued on the tv.

“Ya I’m fine baby” you said through gritted teeth.

“No you’re not. You’re flushed, and your legs are clenched together. It’s the jersey again isn’t it?” ‘God how did he know me so well’ you thought to yourself.

“Fuck. Of course it is Dylan. You know what that damn thing does to me”


It was a Tuesday night, but it wasn’t any normal night. Tonight was yours and Dylan’s five year anniversary. He had the week off and so far you’ve spent it cuddled up on the couch binge watching your favorite movies together. However, tonight Dylan was taking you out to a nice restaurant to celebrate your years together.

Your were in the bathroom getting dressed when Dylan came in and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

“How’s my favorite girl?” He whispered into your ear and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“She’s good, how’s my handsome man?” You said while turning around in his arms so you were facing one another. Your hands moved to his cheeks and pulled him into a soft, sweet, and passionate kiss. It didn’t last long but it was still perfect. You pulled away and just stared into one another’s eyes for a few seconds. It amazed you that eve after so long, his eyes still made you feel like they did they very first time you looked into them.

“You ready to go?” He broke the silence and you nodded your head. He grabbed your hand and you walked out of the house and to his car. He opened the door for you before jogging around to his side and joining you in the Bentley.

The ride to the restaurant was filled with the sound of you two singing along to the radio. His fingers never left yours the whole way there. When you pulled up to the restaurant Dylan got out of the car to open up the door for you like the gentleman he was. His hand reached out for yours as he helped you out of your seat. Standing up, you smoothed out the end of your skin tight navy blue dress. You may or may not have worn this particular dress because it was his favorite color.

“You look so perfect baby” he said to you as you were waiting for the hostess to bring you to your table. A couple minutes had passed before you were both seated at a table for two in one of the more secluded back rooms.

You looked at the man across from you, your hands linked together across the table. Neither of you said anything but you knew exactly what the other was thinking. God I’m so in love with you. Your moment was ruined when the waiter came out and asked what you wanted to drink. You ordered a white moscato and Dylan ordered a blue moon. When the waiter left you went straight back to your bubble that only had enough room for the two of you. It sounded cheesy and it was, but you were so in love with this man sat in front of you.

The next hour went by quickly. After pulling away from each other you looked over the menus trying to decide what to order, you decided to order a couple of appetizers instead of full meals because everyone knew you two loved to have variety when it came to your food. While you waited for you me food you reminisced on some memories the two f you have shared over the course of five years. Thinking back, it felt like just yesterday you had met him that night at the bar. You two held small conversation filled with giggles as you ate your dinner and sipped on your drinks. The waiter had come back out and asked if you would like any dessert, you agreed and both decided to split a mini lava cake.

When the waiter came back out, he came out with a mini lava cake that had a number 5 drawn across the top in chocolate frosting. There was something else too. Underneath the plate was a rectangular box wrapped in brown paper and topped with a red bow. You looked to Dylan with furrowed eyebrows.

“I know we said no gifts but I had to get you this one” he spoke. “Go ahead and open it” he added. The waiter was still standing there which was pretty confusing to you. You pushed it to the back on your mind and focused on the gift. Your fingers worked quickly to tear back the paper and and your eyes were met with a white box. You lifted the top off of the box and saw what looked like a white button up folded neatly into the cardboard. Before you had time to reach for it. Dylan had grabbed something shiny from the center of the fabric and moved in front of you so he was down on one knee. You immediately gasped as the gears started turning in your mind. Your hands flew to cover your mouth and gears began to well in your eyes.

“Y/n 5 years ago all I wanted to do was get a drink and watch my favorite team. That same night you waltzed into a bar on your 21st birthday, little did we know that night would change the rest of our lives. 5 years, 5 beautiful years with the love of my life. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to spend my time with. You aren’t quite like anybody else I’ve ever met. Just your presence is enough to brighten my mood. You’re my best friend and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He took my hand in his as he spoke up once more. “Y/N  Y/L/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and making me the happiest man alive?” Tears had escaped your eyes and were freely running down your cheeks as you listened to his words. Before you had anymore time to think you quickly nodded your head and muttered a quick yes. He slipped the beautiful silver and diamond embedded ring on your finger and pulled you into a passionate kiss. Your mind was moving a million miles a minute as you tried to grasp what was happening. Dylan Obrien just proposed to you.

Your mind slipped back to what was still in the box. The white button up still folded neatly. You looked at Dylan and back to the fabric a few times before he told you to take it out. Once you unfolded the material you recognized it immediately.

“Dylan, this is your Mets Jersey” I said dumbfoundedly. I looked to him as if asking for an explanation and he was already one step ahead of me.

“I know, but I also know how much you love it and I think we can both agree that it looks much better in you.” You we’re smiling ear to ear as he spoke. “Turn it over” he instructed. You did as he said and turned over the white material in your hands. It was a coincidence that Dylan’s jersey hand already had the number 5 in bold blue thread, however, something was there that wasn’t before. The words ‘FOREVER AND ALWAYS’ had been added above the number 5. When you realised what the simple phrase really meant, you were a mess of tears and smeared mascara. Dylan took it from your hands and unbuttoned it, placing it on your shoulders. “I know it’s not much baby, but I wanted you to have it” His forehead rested against yours as he wiped the tears away with his thumbs.

“Are you kidding me? This means the world to me Dyl” once again you had pulled each other in for a kiss except this one was much more heated.


Your back slammed against the door as soon as it was shut. Dylan’s hands gripped hard against your hips.

The whole car ride Hope was filled with teases. His hand on your thigh slow inching up, you’d on his doing the same. As soon as he got the chance to kiss you, he took it.  Now here you were pressed up against the front door to your house.

His tongue entered your mouth without warning and quickly began massaging yours with his own. Your hands tangled behind his head gripping into his hair as his lips moved from yours to your jaw and down your neck. He left sloppy wet kisses all the way down the the fabric of your dress, surely creating purple and red bruises somewhere along the way.

“Alright come on, future Mrs. O'brien!” He said as he pulled away. You weren’t sure what he meant but before you could ask he had picked you up by the waist and thrown you over his shoulder. You squealed as he padded down the hallway to your room. Before throwing you on the bed, a quick smacking sound echoed throughout the room, a stinging in your ass soon following. He threw you down onto the mattress tugging his shirt off and throwing it to the floor before crawling over top of you and kissing his way up your body through your clothes. The feeling tickled and it made you giggle. You could feel him smirk against your stomach as he kept moving towards your face.

“God you look hot in this jersey” he pressed his lips to yours for a moment before pulling back and whispering against your lips, “but I think it would look even better on the floor.” A moan escaped your mouth at his words and your eyes met his. They were darker than normal and were filled with want and need. You sat up so he could push the jersey off your shoulders and down your arms, discarding it somewhere along with his shirt. Your hands moved to the back of your dress fumbling with the zipper. You slowly moved it down it’s track as you stared into his eyes and bit your lip. “Quit teasing” he mumbled as he reached behind you to finish unzipping the offending fabric. He pushed the strapless material down your body and you laid back down lifted your hips so he could fully remove it. He groaned as his gaze collided with your bare chest. You could tell he didn’t know you weren’t wearing a bra and you noticed the bulge in his pants growing bigger.

He was kneeling in front of you on the bed, you sat back up and reached to the buckle of his belt, quickly undoing it before doing the same with his button and zipper. You pushed his grey silk pants down his hips. He stood up off the bed and removed them completely. Your eyes landed on his perfectly outlined cock in his black briefs. You moaned at the sight before you. His hands moved to your panties as he slid them down your legs and he then removed his boxers too. He crawled back up the bed so he was hovering over you, his hand moved from your cheek to you breast, kneeling and tugging at your nipple. He then moved it down your side and gripped your hip surely leaving a few bruises. He continued moving closer and closer to where you needed him. His fingers grazed you folded just slightly, shivers shooting yo through you body. His finger dipped between your folds just long enough to be dragged all the way through.

“Fuck you’re already so wet baby” he moaned above you.

“I told you, it’s that fucking jersey” You responded quickly. “Now as much as I love our foreplay, I need you to fuck me right now” you pleaded through shaky breaths.

“Yes ma’am” he answered. His lips connected to yours in as hot, searing kiss. Your teeth crashed and your tongues immediately fought for dominance, his eventually winning. His hand that was rested beside your head moved down to stroke his hard member a few times. He lined himself up with your entrance before slamming into you with no warning. He didn’t give you time to adjust but quickly pulled back out before pounding back into you once again. Your back immediately arched up into his chest and your head rolled back into the pillow. He had never started out so tough before. This new side of him turning you on like crazy.

He took advantage of your newly exposed skin as your head was tipped back. His lips attached to your sweet spot right below your ear as he continued slamming into you. You reached up gripping onto his shoulders from beneath his arms. He continued his relentless speed causing you to take your nails down his back. He mewled at the pleasure, the vibrations from his mouth shooting from your neck down to your core.

“I’m …c- close… baby” you stuttered through panting breaths. He didn’t say anything but instead removed his lips from your neck and sat up so he was on his knees. He grabbed your legs resting your ankles behind his head. Your lower half was in the air as your head and shoulders were pressed into the bed. He gripped your hips ferociously and slammed back into you. This new position make your tits bounce back and forth. Your breath became ragged and your legs started to tremble. Your toes curled behind his neck and your hands wrapped the blue sheets beneath you. His pace never faltered as you screamed out, your orgasm crushing over you in waves. He rode out your high, letting you calm down from your high. He pulled out for a moment to let you catch your breath.

After you had both caught your breaths, he flipped you over so we’re now on your stomach. He grabbed your hips pulling them up so you were on your knees. You kept your arms and head down, pressing into the mattress. He stroke his cock once more before lining up and mercilessly pushing into you. He didn’t start off slow or steady, he slipped in and out of you with such force knowing you were still sensitive from your orgasm. His hand connected with the bare skin of your ass and your body jerked forward as you screamed out into the pillow.

“You like that, baby girl? You like when I teach you who’s in charge?” You moaned into the pillow trying to nod your head. He was not fond of your answer when he reached up gripping your hand into a ponytail and pulling your chest back to meet his.

“Answer me” he demanded in your ear.

“Yes, daddy” you mewled. He continued to pound into you from behind. You knew he was close when his pace began to falter. You were close too, so you moved one hand up to your breast and began kneading it roughly between your fingers. Your other hand moved down to your aching core and began ferociously rubbing figure eights on your clit. You breath quickened and you could hear Dylan’s did too. One more thrust and you had fallen forward, your juices releasing around his cock. Your clenched was enough for Dylan to reach his high and you soon felt his hot seed shoot through your throbbing core. He collapsed ontop of you before pulling out and rolling over into his back.

You were still on your stomach, both of you still trying to catch your breaths and come down from your euphoric highs.

You rolled over to look up at him through your hooded eyes. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you” you whispered to him, already half asleep. He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Forever and always baby” he responded with a quick kiss to your forehead. He pulled the covers up over the two of you before he drifted off to sleep. You leaned up pressing your lips against his cheek.

“Forever and always baby”

Empathy

Originally posted by godshipsit

Pairing: Winchesters x sister!Reader
Word count: 1,737
Request: Anonymous. Can you do I Winchester Sister!Reader where she’s, like, 13/14 and she becomes and Empath and has to deal with her brothers pain on top of her own. (Maybe set when Dean gets back from Purgatory?) Please & Thank You Xxx


Ever since you were little, you were always a bit more attuned to your brothers feelings. It was normal to you, so you never thought you were any different. You were the most caring and sensitive out of the Winchesters, and part of John loved that about you- that you still held onto that despite their life. However, he feared it would get you into trouble one day.


Sitting with your back to the headboard, you read the book on your tablet in your lap, in your own little world. Knowing there was no way to lug around as many books as you could go through, Sam saved up and surprised you with it for your birthday two months before. You’d hugged him tighter than he thought possible for your young body, making him chuckle.

It was just you and Sam now, as Dean was off in purgatory. You missed your older brother, but there wasn’t anything you could do. At least not as a 14 year old girl who was more into books and fantasy than actually hunting.

Sam had been extra quiet lately, and you’d stopped in a town on your way to the cabin. He had kissed your forehead and said he wanted some fresh air. You didn’t mind. Getting alone time was nice. It left you feeling a bit more recharged, and gave you a chance to read.

You knew that Sam was avoiding talking about her- Amelia. She had been really nice, and you’d liked her. It was refreshing to be able to talk to a woman about things, as opposed to awkwardly talking to Sam about it. One night he shook you awake and the two of you left, and you could feel the pit in your stomach.

Keep reading

Flood my Mornings: Twentieth of October

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  Stones (Jamie struggles with what separation from Jenny and his loved ones really entails.)

Anon requested: Claire takes Jamie to the North End in Boston for Italian food.


October 20, 1950

It was not the first time I had noticed that Jamie’s raised eyebrow was quite dashing, no matter how scornfully-raised. “And you’re certain this is what ye want for your birthday, lass?”

“Positive! Dig in, darling!”

The restaurant was dimly lit, but even in the candlelight, I could see that he was staring at the plate of spaghetti bolognese as though it were a sleeping wolverine. 

He poked the fragrant mass with his fork. “It just looks so—unwieldy.”

“I have full faith in your ability to wield your dinner,” I laughed, sipping my wine before picking up my fork again. 

Jamie watched me carefully, studying, then slowly imitated my motions of twirling the pasta around the fork using the bowl of the spoon as an anchor. I tried my best to stifle giggles into my wine glass as the load slipped off his tines halfway to his mouth not once, but twice. He fixed me with a gimlet eye. “If ye wished your present to be me making a fool of myself, I could think of half a dozen other more enjoyable—” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I snickered, “I’m not laughing, I promise.” I tightened my lips and looked angelically over at him. “Come on, once more?” 

He sighed, twirled once more, and managed to get the bite into his mouth. 

“So…? What do you think?” I asked eagerly. 

“But it’s good!” he said through his mouthful, sounding highly surprised. “A bit slippery, but the sauce is quite nice.” He took a swallow of wine and sat, considering. “Aye, that’s lovely. How d’ye say it? Spag—?” 

“Spagh-EH-tti,” I said, in my best exaggerated Italian accent, digging in to my own plate. “I’m so glad you like it! I haven’t had much Italian food before, either, but this is one of Tom and Marian’s favorite joints. You’ll have to have lasagne next time! Definitely less effort required!”

He managed another bite, losing only one noodle on the journey. “Do they have any wee bibs like the ones we have for Brianna? Tasty as it is, I dinna ken how I should be able to finish the serving wi’out splattering myself filthy.” 

In the end, he settled for a napkin tucked into his collar, and good thing, too, for otherwise his white shirt would have taken two direct hits before the meal was out.

It was a lovely evening, with good food, good wine, and a gorgeous trio of singers serenading the diners from the far corner.  

As the raucous Funiculì Funiculà was replaced by the sweet, sad strains of Musetta’s Waltz over our coffee and tiramisu (which Jamie did not enjoy— “It’s just wet cake!”), Jamie took my hand and squeezed it, his eyes crinkling with happiness. “Happy Birthday, Sassenach.”

“Thirty-two,” I said, a bit ruefully. “I think that means I’m firmly out of the spring chicken years, don’t you?”

“Hey, now, I’ll have no such talk,” he chided gently. “Every year we have together will be the best year—no matter how old we grow.”

I felt my face grow flush with feeling and in seeing the fervor in his expression. “That’s a good way to think of it. Think we’ll still be this happy when I’m seventy-two?” 

“Oh, aye, I’ll stake my life on it. I canna wait to see ye wi’ grey hairs. You’ll be the Sexiest grannie ever seen.”

“You’re unbelievable,” I laughed. “But thank you.” 

He stood halfway to lean across the table and kiss my hand. “I’m verra, verra glad ye were born, mo chridhe,” he murmured.  

My throat felt thick. “I’m glad you were born, too.” 

“Aye, but it’s no’ yet my day for it,” he grinned. As he sat back in his seat, he suddenly looked sharply up at me. “I didna think on it before, but this day is significant for another reason, forbye.”

“Oh? What reason is that?” 

“'Tis five years to the day since ye first told me the truth….” he said, eyes wide and wondering. “….about where ye truly came from, aye?”

I gasped, remembering. 

“Do you know when I was born?” I had hissed, voice tremulous, my hair wild and my eyes staring. “On the twentieth of October, in the Year of Our Lord nineteen hundred and eighteen.”

“Do you hear me?” I demanded, for he was blinking at me unmoving, as though paying no attention to a word I said. “I said nineteen eighteen! Nearly two hundred years from now! Do you hear?” 

I had been shouting, but he’d nodded slowly. 

“I hear.” 

And then a long time later, many frantic words and tears later, he’d looked down at me and smiled faintly. 

“Happy Birthday, Sassenach.” 

It took me completely by surprise and I’d just stared stupidly at him for a moment. “What?” I’d managed at last. 

“I said, ‘Happy Birthday.’ It’s the twentieth of October today.” 

“That was quite a day, no?” the present-day Jamie said, refilling my coffee cup and scooting the rest of the tiramisu toward me. 

“I was… so scared,” I said, feeling suddenly breathless from the remembered terror.

“Christ, me too,” he agreed with a shudder. “When I saw ye there on the platform in Cranesmuir—To think they might have burned ye, if I hadna arrived in ti—”

“No, no,” I cut in, “not then. I mean, I was terrified during the trial, of course…but it was there in the woods, that I meant. With you.” 

That startled him, and I went on. “I was so frightened to tell you about my past. I was convinced you would think me mad—or even the witch you’d just vowed publicly that I wasn’t.” 

That same faint smile crossed his lips but he said nothing. 

“Tell me truly, Jamie…” I started, my stomach suddenly in knots, dreading the answer. “Did you really believe me… or did you just care for me enough that it was easier for us both that you should pretend to?”

He spoke without hesitation. “No, I believed ye, Sassenach.”

My exhale of relief and my, “But how? Why?” seemed to escape me simultaneously. 

“Because your face betrays ye, mo sorcha—it always has. It’s why Colum and Dougal didna trust ye for a moment. They didna ken what it was ye were hiding, only that something was there ye wouldna tell. And in the time after we were made man and wife,” he reached across the tiny table and laid a warm hand on my cheek, “just as I kent your feelings for me were growing wi’ every passing day, I could see that there was something ye were holding back, still, even from me. It’s why I said ‘secrets, but no’ lies,’ aye?” He lowered his hand to gently hold my chin. “But this day, five years ago, was the first time I saw ye look back into my eyes wi’ nothing held back: no lies AND no secrets…. Your eyes told me that ye spoke true, no matter how unbelievable the truth was. And it slew me, Claire, then slew me again…because I knew I had to let ye go; go back to him.” 

I couldn’t speak, just then, and he sat back in his seat, shaking his head, dazed. “I still canna believe ye chose me; still canna fathom what I felt when I awoke to find ye there in my arms…thought I surely was dreaming.”

I reached for his hand. “I just…couldn’t give you up.”

“And I thank God for it every day.”

“Me too.”

We sat for a time in silence, touching each others’ rings and feeling the warmth of our hands together. 

Jamie was the one that broke the stillness, pulling away with purpose. “Now, as glad as I am that you’re a woman for whom watching a numpty suffer through a plate of Spaghetti is a sufficient birthday present—” he reached down to his feet and withdrew a parcel wrapped in brown paper, “—I did get ye a proper gift as well.”

I grinned and reached for it; a book, surely, from the size and weight. Sure enough, as the paper fell away, I could immediately see the crisp page-edges and the shiny binding that read: Medical Education in the United States: rankings and reviews (1950 ed.)

“Oh, Jamie…” I breathed, opening the cover and flipping through the pages. Harvard. Princeton. Stanford. Osteopathic and Medicine programs of California. Texas. Pennsylvania.  MCAT procedures. Top residencies by specialty. And on and on it went. 

“I ken we’ve been talking a great deal about the new bairn and the hope that we’ll conceive soon; but I didna wish ye to think I’d forgotten your other wish. I’ve been reading up on what it’s like—the requirements and the different options you’ll have. I didna ken there were half so many programs in Massachusetts, let alone the whole country!“ He gave a small shrug. "Perhaps it all goes wi'out saying, but I wanted ye to hear from my lips that I want ye to go to the best medical school ye can, if that’s your wish—even if it’s in—” He hesitated, speaking tentatively. “Hah-wheyyy?

Hawai’i,” I corrected, laughing with happy tears in my eyes.

“Aye, there,” he grinned, “or wherever the best spot for ye may be. Whither thou goest, I will go.” 

“Thank you, darling,” I whispered.

“My only requirement,” he said, suddenly stern, “is that you make it so they have to republish this wee book soon, for there isna a single mention of the possibility of a woman attending. Tis all ‘his’ and ‘him’ and ‘gentlemen in the class of such and such.’ You’ll need to change that, aye?”

I grinned at him and shook his hand playfully. “It’s a bargain.”

Keep reading

Borrowed Books and Long Showers | Draco Malfoy x Reader

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested: Yep!

67. “You’re strong, baby. You have to be.”
70. “I can’t stand seeing you like this.”
98. “Don’t shut me out.”

Requests: Open!

Summary: You and Draco meet again after the war and things become serious. You struggle with your mental health because of PTSD from the war, he helps. Super fluffy ending. This is a roller coaster ride tbh I am so sorry. Angst, fluffy fluff.

Warnings: PTSD, mentions of Cruciatus Curse, swearing

Words: 2807

A/N: I’m posting this with less than an hour left of the 20th anniversary of Harry Potter!! As stated before, this is a roller coaster ride so I apologize. I hope you all find it at least somewhat cute. I have written a lot of the reader comforting Draco lately so I decided to switch it up a bit for this one! Feel free to reblog and feedback is greatly appreciated!!


             The magical healers were unparalleled in their abilities to heal the wounded body. Magic could regrow bones, seal gaping wounds, and create fully functional prosthetics. But what magic couldn’t do is heal the wounded mind, and you knew that fact all too well. You had been a Gryffindor while you were at Hogwarts, a part of Dumbledore’s Army, and a muggle born at that, so when the war rolled around, the new management did not take too kindly to you. You also had been involved when the DA was ambushed at the Department of Mysteries, as well had been harshly interrogated during your seventh year under the death eater reign on the school because you were believed to know where the Golden Trio was hiding. After the Carrow Siblings were appointed as professors and they began using, and making other students use, the Cruciatus Curse in detentions, where you found yourself often because of your resistance, you fought alongside Neville and Ginny to reestablish the DA and push back against the strong fist in which Voldemort held the school with. Because of all this, you often found yourself waking in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, a scream tearing your throat, and days where the flashbacks were so bad you could barely get out of bed. Potions and charms could fix the deep cuts and dark bruises you earned in the battles, but they couldn’t soothe the wounds of the PTSD you were left with.

             It was because of this that everyone was shocked when they heard the news that you and Draco Malfoy had started seeing each other. Though, you couldn’t blame them, you were a bit surprised as well. You had been in a book store in Diagon Alley, two days before your paycheck would be in, and looking at the newest book in your favorite series. As you reached up to grab the book on a shelf you realized you were too short, and while you were looking around for a foot stool, you had seen him seated across the store at a table. When you made eye contact with him you found yourself smiling at him softly, and you were a bit astonished when the corners of his mouth twitched up with a small smile. After reaching the book you had your eye on, you checked the price and the number of galleons in your pocket, realizing you didn’t have enough you pursed your lips and placed the book back where you had found it before exiting the store with the intention to return in a couple days. But when you returned home to your small apartment after work the next day, you found that an owl sitting on your window sill. When you opened the glass it dropped by a small rectangular package wrapped in brown paper, a note attached. Upon opening it you found it was the latest book in your favorite series. Grinning, you opening the note and read it,

          ‘I wanted to apologize, but didn’t know how. I hoped that this would be a good start. I can’t put into words how much I want to thank you for your smile.

          -D.M.’

             It was simple, but it carried massive weight. You quickly scrambled to get paper and a pen, checking to see if the owl was still there. When it was, you scrawled out a letter in response.

             ‘Thank you for the book, I really appreciate it. There is no need to thank me for a smile, I believe strongly in second chances and redemption.

             -Y/F/A. Y/L/A.’

             After that you attached it to the owl and sent it off then sat down with your new book. You were a couple pages in when you idly wondered if you would be receiving a letter back. You didn’t.

             It was later that week, after you got paid, that you decided to go to a new café in Diagon Alley to read more. When you got there and waited for your coffee, booked tucked under your arm, you surveyed the large room. It was quaint and cozy, not many people were talking and there was a fireplace in the corner. And, to your surprise, you saw the same familiar face as you did before in the book shop. You bit your lip, wondering if you should ask to sit with him or to find somewhere else to make yourself cozy. Moments later your name was called to pick up your order, causing Draco to look up from the paper he was reading. Grabbing your drink, you glanced over to where he was sitting and found that he was still looking in your direction. You smiled warmly and waved, and he gave you the same small smile he did the day before, lifting a hand slightly for a subtle and hesitant wave back, before he returned to the paper. With a spark of courage, you were a Gryffindor after all, you made your way over to the table by the fireplace and plopped down in the seat in front of him. Startled, he looked up.

             “This is a wonderful little place, isn’t it? I’m so glad it opened up.” You said with a grin, looking around the place again, “What do you think?”

             “Yes, I agree,” He responded, surprise was still evident on his face.

             “Thank you again for the book. I was wondering if you were going to respond to my letter but you never did.” You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your voice as you took a sip of your coffee.

             Draco took a moment to reply, as if he was carefully formulating what he was going to say. “I didn’t want to overstep my bounds.”

             “Nonsense,” You said with a smile and a dismissive wave of your hand. “Speaking of overstepping bounds, is it alright that I sit here with you?” You hoped he would say it was. You didn’t know exactly why you were sitting across from someone who a year earlier would have called you a slur and cursed you, but he was making an effort to change. Word had it that he had cut ties with his family and was training to become a healer. Some said it was selfish reasons, that they were holding his image back and if he cut ties it would help him seem more progressive, but most everyone knew the amount of pressure that was put on him by his family to do what he did, so most left it alone. Though leaving it alone is far from acceptance.

             “Yes,” He said with that smile that you were growing fond of, “It’s alright.”

             You grinned before opening your book and began reading. It was a while before either of you spoke up, this time it was Draco who broke the silence. “What is it about?” He asked, nodding to your book.

             That then caused you to go on a long winded and excited explanation of the series, your eyes lighting up as you talked about the depth of the protagonist, your hands gesturing wildly as you went on and on about character development and different plot arcs. Draco listened intently, his eyes rarely leaving your form as you talked. He frowned when an apologetic look found its way onto your face and you apologized, saying that was probably more than what he wanted to know and your friends always tell you that you had a habit of getting a bit overzealous at times.

             “No, I enjoyed listening, if you like them that much I may have to read them.” He smiled encouragingly, a genuine smile. Not the small reserved one you had seen previously. There was a faint pull in his chest when he realized that your friends had censored your excitement so much that it made you apologize for something you were talking passionately about.

             “I own all of them, you can borrow them if you’d like.” You offered before finishing the last of your coffee.

             “I’d like that.” He nodded, though he was unsure if he liked the fact that you’d be loaning him the books or the fact that this meant that there were going to be future interactions with you.

             After that you had loaned him all the books. It was a mildly long series too so it meant that you’d keep having to converse frequently to exchange the books as well as you could discuss what he thought of them and different theories about the plot. It was at a few books in when you told him you were too busy to meet at the coffee shop to give him the next book in the series and that he could stop by your flat to exchange the old one for the next. He said he could just send his owl but you insisted he stop by. When he knocked on your door and heard a ‘Come on in,’ he opened the door a bit cautiously, as if the second he stepped over the threshold you would kick him out, but instead he found you at the stove, wand tucked behind your ear, various pots being stirred by enchanted spoons.

             “The books are over on the bookcase on the left, you’re welcome to stay for dinner as well, I accidentally made a bit too much for just myself.” You nodded toward one of the bookcases in your living room.

             “Accidentally?” He asked, an amused smirk on his lips as he realized the real reason you insisted on him coming in person.

             “Accidentally.” You winked before returning to the food.

             You two somehow made it a weekly event, one night a week one of you would go to the other’s house for dinner, staying after to talk or just enjoy each other’s presence while you read or caught up on work. Then it moved to two nights a week, then three, then almost every night together. You don’t exactly know how it happened but one moment you were sitting on the couch discussing the series, as he had just finished the latest book, and the next your lips were on his, his fingers tanged in your hair and both of you breathless. You started dating soon after, much to everyone’s surprise. Hermione shrieked and Ginny knocked over a glass of water when you told them at your weekly girls’ brunch. They soon accepted it though, they figured if you trusted him and Harry testified to Draco’s innocence at the trials, they could accept him into their lives by proxy. You began living together after a year, and had now been dating for three years.

             You kept your nightmares from him as long as possible. When he woke up alone and knocked on the bathroom door asking if you were alright you explained it was just that you probably ate something bad and were extremely nauseous, you didn’t know he didn’t believe you. It was when you work up screaming one night that you finally told him. You didn’t want him to feel guilty, because it wasn’t his fault. Draco held you close to his chest, drawing soothing circles with his hand across your back and telling you to breathe with him. When he asked why you hadn’t told him before you hesitated before telling him the reason.

             “Darling, please tell me when you have these nightmares, I know what you’ve been through, I’m here for you. I can’t stand seeing you like this. Please, let me help.” And so, you did. When you had nightmares that hit too close to home, times when you spent hours in the shower, the heavy water beating down on your back in an attempt to ground you back into reality, and the days when you went nights without sleeping because you couldn’t stand the vivid scenes from your memory flashing behind your eyelids, he’d do whatever he could to help you.

             “My love, I’m home!” Draco called as he walked into your now shared flat from returning from St. Mungo’s. He frowned when he got no reply, setting down his bag and quickly walking through the rooms until he heard the shower running in the bathroom. He cursed to himself, you were just about to get in the shower when he was leaving that morning to go to work. Carefully opening up the as to not startle you he said your name quietly. Upon entering and pulling back the shower curtain he found you sitting on the floor, half clothed, only in your underwear, the spray raining down on your neck and back.

             Quickly Draco stripped down as well until he was just in his boxers and got in alongside you, as he has done before when he would find you like this, caught in the painful world of the past. He sat down behind you so that you fit between his legs and wrapped his arms around your waist, and put his chin on your shoulder. Immediately you stiffened, your eyes glassy, still not responding to the soft words he spoke. You were far away. A place where your friends were forced to use unforgivable curses on you, and you on them. Where searing pain of a thousand knives’ blades permeated your senses.

             “Don’t shut me out. Listen to my voice, follow the sound of it, come back to me.” He whispered, holding you tight, as you slowly relaxed into his chest, “You’re strong, baby. You have to be. Please listen, come back to me, I’m here.”

             When you finally came back from the memories that still held you like an iron fist, you thanked Draco softly, only for him to reply that you didn’t need to thank him. He helped you up out of the shower, drying you off and getting your new clothes from your closet, before picking you up and carrying you into bed. After he got into bed with you, you quickly snuggled into his side.

             “Y/N, my love,” He said after a moment and you knew what was coming, “Please, come with me to work tomorrow so you can see someone. I think it would be really beneficial for you to talk to someone. St. Mungo’s doesn’t just have departments for bodily health. Please?” His voice was tender has he stroked your face with is thumb, planting a soft kiss to your forehead.  

             You nodded, sighing. You both stayed quiet for a moment, savoring each other’s touch.

             “Would you like me to read to you?” Draco asked after a moment, smiling down at you.

             “I’d love that.”

             He got up, leaving the bedroom briefly and returning with the first book of your favorite series. You laid your head on his lap as he started at page one. Looking up at him, watching the way his mouth moved as he spoke and his beautiful eyes shifted along the words, you knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

You two had long since said ‘I love you’ to each other. Draco was the one who said it first. It was after your sixth month anniversary and you had just gotten back from your special celebratory date. You were kissing each other, hard and breathless, when he had suddenly pulled back, looking at you as if in awe, only to whisper those fateful three words. You said it back immediately, of course, you knew almost a week in that you loved him. But it was now, looking up at him, your rock, that you knew that you wanted to grow old with him.

“Draco, will you marry me?” The words left your mouth before you knew what you were saying.

He stopped reading mid-sentence, and your face went red as you realized the weight of what you just asked him. “I don’t have a ring though,” You laughed, trying to ease atmosphere.

He laughed quietly as well, his grey eyes shining “I do.”

“What?” You asked, sitting up.

“I have a ring. I was going to ask you next week but of course you jumped the gun and asked me first.” Draco got up, walking over to his sock drawer and pulling out a small velvet box. “I should have known my Gryffindor girlfriend would have the guts to ask me first.”

You gasped, jumping up and quickly running over to him. He got down on one knee in front of you, taking your hand in his.

“Y/F/N Y/L/M, will you m—” Was as far as he got before you sprang forward and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yes!” You yelled as his hands went around your waist, pulling back after a moment to shakily put the ring on your left hand. Pulling you in for a kiss, you both knew that this was the start of a perfect forever.

Modern Conveniences

So the idea for this came from one of @freifraufischer‘s herd of anons, and then @sometimesangryblackwoman gave some prodding to get it written. Anyway, post-ep in which Henry sends the other Regina a care package of things from the modern world, and makes the mistake of soliciting suggestions.


A couple weeks after sending the Evil Queen off to a fresh start and a chance at some happiness, Henry writes her a note. It’s mostly to tell her they’re all okay, that they’ve survived the latest peril which has so marked his adolescence. She’d want to know, he thinks. He tacks on a post-script about his grades, fully aware that she won’t be pleased about that, but hey, there was an epic battle going on and a few nights where he was out late saving the world instead of studying algebra. Surely she can forgive him that.

It’s a one-way form of communication, but it’s the least of what he owes her. Every once in a while, he pens another note, telling her about the situation with Violet and how the horses are doing and everything he thinks she might want to know. It’s not enough, but it’s what he can do.

He’s taken little Neal to the park to give Snow and David some time to themselves and is thinking of what to say to his other other mom when he hears what the mothers in the park are saying. Princess Aurora is laughing about one of the first times she used the internet for shopping. “I couldn’t believe it. You just tell it what you want and it arrives! Better than magic, if you ask me.”

“It still comes with a price!” Ashley says, and the women all laugh.

It gives Henry an idea.

The family is having Thanksgiving at the Mills house. It’s the one holiday they all really embraced after the curse was broken—Mom loves to cook, Snow loves to decorate, and Emma loves to eat, so it’s perfect for their quirky little family. The night before, Henry informed them all that he could use his abilities to send things, modern conveniences she might miss, to the other Regina, so if they had any suggestions he was certainly open to them.

The table was stunned for a minute, but soon they were coming up with all kinds of ideas. Before long it devolved into a conversation of the old days in the Enchanted Forest, and sometimes about the things they missed during the year when Henry and Emma were in New York. But on Thanksgiving itself, Emma calls him aside. “Hey, kid, you haven’t made up your magical care package yet, have you?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “No, I wanted to see if there were any more ideas.”

“Right. So this might be a little embarrassing, but trust me, it’s necessary.”

She hands him a slip of paper and walks away. On the note are two items.

Tampons. Chocolate.

For half a minute Henry wants the earth to swallow him.

He shoves the embarrassment as far back as he can and tries to be sensible. Emma’s right, probably—okay, definitely, since he has no idea what this is like and she does. But ugh, he wishes the pen would let other people write down their seriously personal suggestions instead of him having to do this.

Half an hour later, Snow calls him away from football with the guys to the dining room, where she’s putting the finishing touches on the table. “Wow, Grandma,” he says, “it looks great.”

“You think so?” Snow replies. “I keep thinking the flowers are too tall, but I guess not everyone’s as short as me. You’re not even as short as me anymore.”

He grins by way of apology. “So what do you need help with?”

“Oh, I was actually going to give you another idea for the other Regina. I don’t want to embarrass you, but…”

The words aren’t even out of her mouth yet and Emma’s note may literally be burning a hole in his pocket. Why isn’t there ever a sinkhole when he really needs one?

He stammers his thanks and hopes he isn’t blushing.

Dinner is great, even if he can’t quite look a couple of the women in the eye. He stuffs himself on mock-apple pie (Mom’s idea of a joke), and when Mom gets up to wash the dishes, he follows her to help. The others try to protest that she shouldn’t be cleaning up when she did most of the cooking, but she waves them off, knowing she likes things done a certain way.

Henry knows her system, though, so he can help. The others clear the table and let mother and son get to work. As she washes and he dries the china, she says, “There’s something very important you need to add to your list for… the other me.”

Ugh,” he says. “I know, Mom. Emma and Snow both talked to me about this, okay? I know. Chocolate and… the other thing.”

Mom looks at him with this expression, torn between laughter and incredulity. “The other thing? Come on, Henry, the word won’t hurt you.”

The ground beneath him betrays him yet again, refusing to open and put him out of his misery. “Chocolate and tampons,” he mumbles.

With a soapy hand, Mom pats his cheek. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Seriously, he’s going to crawl into a cabinet and live the rest of his life in there as a hermit.

“Have you got a piece of paper?” she asks.

“Yeah…”

“Good. I want you to write this down.”

“Mom, Emma already gave me a note with this, so it’s not like I’m going to forget.”

“No, I want you to write down the actual brand. These things are not to be left to chance.”

Mortified, he obeys.

*~*~*~*

In that other place, Regina is between encounters with the angry young king—she’ll bring him around yet, she knows—when she gets a box from her son. It’s thoughtful and kind and makes her heart so full she thinks it must burst. But in the bottom there’s another box, wrapped in brown paper. Henry has scrawled a note on it. They said you needed this.

She laughs so hard when she opens it that she literally falls out of her chair.

My poor little prince, she thinks. You must have wished the earth would swallow you whole.

anonymous asked:

for the arranged marriage au i feel like cassian would constantly try to make these gestures but jyn would be confused by them lol

On her birthday, gifts from dignitaries and other royal families and politicians around the world come rolling in. There are gilded clocks and ceremonial pens encrusted in gems. She receives a decorative rooster with ruby eyes from an ambassador who once had been smitten with her; a bouquet of flowers from the son of a well-connected tradesman who had entertained hopes of marrying her before Cassian had been chosen instead. Jyn works her way through the gifts while Baze catalogs which items are from whom and readies his list for thank you notes that she will sign one he is done writing them.

One gift stands out though, amongst all the finery. She sees the box wrapped in brown paper, a white ribbon awkwardly placed on top. She opens it to reveal a collection of three books—leather-bound novels from her childhood of a series she had read over and over until her copies had fallen apart. “Who is this from?” she asks, turning the books over and over again, cracking them open to smell the new paper and ink.

“Your husband,” Baze says.

“Did you tell him about these?” she asks, surprised. “How did he know?” But the memory comes to her, of chattering about them with the head librarian once during a visit to the Royal Library at its grand re-opening three months earlier. Cassian had walked by her side, silent but listening.

“He remembered,” she says to herself, running a finger down her spine, a confused smile pushing at her face. “How curious.”

Keep reading

Flood my (Christmas) Mornings

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  Sweet Souls (Jamie tells Bree a story to get her to sleep) 

Here’s a link to another Christmas-themed scene written for Christmas 2016, along with a Brian and Ellen ficlet from @gotham-ruaidh!


December 25, 1950

‘Children laughing, people passing’

Laughing. That’s what one expects to hear from children on Christmas morning. 

Not a BLOODCURDLING SCREAM.  

Jamie and I went from dead-sleep to complete and utter panic in a single heartbeat, and staggered blindly to her room to find it empty. After a frantic ten seconds, we found her in the doorway to the living room, shrieking in delight at the Christmas tree by the fire.

I groaned in relief and clutched my belly, panting, but Jamie was faster to action. “Brianna Ellen Fraser!” His whole body electric with adrenaline, he snatched her up off the ground and made her look him in the eye.“You’re NOT to prowl around the house wi’out your mother or me, d’ye hear me? Ye stay in your room until we fetch ye.” He gave her a harmless but firm shake for emphasis. “D’ye hear?”

“But—but—Daddy, LOOK!” She contorted in his arms to loll her head back at the tinsel-clad tree. “CHRINSMINS!!!”

Jamie exhaled hugely and closed his eyes for a moment, as if forcing the fear and anger to exit his body. I rubbed his arm encouragingly and he made a small sound of acknowledgment before kissing Bree’s cheek. “Aye, Christmas, it is.” He set her back down on the floor and put his arm around my waist, the both of us looking down ruefully at our grey-hair-inducing progeny. “Ye like the tree, cub?”

“AYE!” Bree squealed emphatically, bouncing twice on the spot for joy before running over to examine it more closely.

Jamie and I had brought in the tree last night after she had gone to bed, making a happy, pajama-clad, fireside evening of getting the thing decorated as the snow gathered outside. We’d happily gorged ourselves on Mrs. Byrd’s iced gingerbread and guzzled apple cider as we festooned the branches with baubles and tinsel. Jamie, though he’d never before the 20th century heard of such a daft thing as bringing a live tree indoors and gaudying it up, seemed absolutely delighted by the overall effect—though in all honesty, it may have been the dollops of whisky he added to his cider. He kept on stepping back and proclaiming passionately, “’s’BEAUTiful!” 

A good portion of the tinsel ended up in our hair and clothing, for decorating inevitably turned into throwing and fits of helpless giggles; and, of course, icing was attack-smeared over faces as we laughed ourselves hoarse; and *naturally,* one thing led to another, AND we ended up on the ground, naked, covered in sticky sugar, and making sweet, sweet Christmas Eve love on the rug (an activity that doesn’t often make the carols and poems, that)(but pretty bloody festive, in my book). 

Jamie’s squeezing my arse into oblivion (as though also remembering our celebrations last night) was more than a little distracting as we fondly watched Bree, swaying as she stared in rapture up at the tree. “S’all—” she made a vague, sweeping gesture with both arms, and hopped up and down, “—all—HAPPY!”

I gave Jamie a squeeze back, laughing. “The tree makes you feel happy, lovey?”

Bree glared at me, ever the toddler-pedant. “It IS happy, Mama, see? See it?”

“You’re so right, baby. It’s a very happy tree.”

A quarter of an hour later, with mugs of tea and plates of toast with cinnamon butter, Bing Cosby crooned out Christmas tunes from the record player while the rest of us sat on the floor by the fire to open gifts.

Bree went first, of course, and her gasp of delight was nearly as alarming as the one that had awoken us in terror. “Issa TRAINNN!!” she squealed, pulling the wrapping paper loose with startling voracity. 

All in all, I would wager Jamie had just as much fun setting the wooden train set up as Bree, and she was having a jolly good time. Seeing the pair of them laying on their stomachs, choo-choo-ing along and causing disastrous (and apparently hilarious) collisions was a special kind of joy.

I wrapped my hands around my mug and leaned back against the face of the sofa, feeling—something in my belly. Not movement—it was far too early for quickening, but that bit of foreign pressure…yes, that was there.

 I can’t wait to meet you, little one, I said silently to my child. Hurry up and join us, alright? And I could have sworn the pressure responded. 

“Happy Christmas, Sassenach.” Jamie was handing me a lumpy parcel wrapped in brown paper.  

“Oh, darling!” I cried in delight a moment later, wrapping what turned out to be a sumptuous plum-colored wool scarf around my neck, “this is gorgeous! Wherever did you get it?”

“Made it.”

“…You MADE it??”

“Oh, aye,” he shrugged, oh-so-casually.  

I just bloody stared at him. “You….KNIT???”

“Aye…is it bad?” He was startled by the intensity of my shock and he looked both bewildered and slightly nervous. 

“NO—not at ALL, but—” I ran my fingers over the fine, neat rows of stitches. “I just—don’t think I’ve ever known a man that knits!”

“No? All highland boys do. Something to keep the hands useful while tending sheep or the like. Or, when there’s down moments at the barn not occupied by the lassies,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. He grinned shyly. “Ye really like it?”

“I LOVE it,” I said, with complete sincerity. “Just you wait, all the girls at the hospital will be after you to make THEM one!” 

“Well, I’ll do what I can,” he said amiably, and I could tell he was gratified. 

“Lord, I feel foolish over your present now.” It was definitely NOT homemade.

He grinned. “I’m sure I’ll love it, mo nighean donn.” 

He did love it, in fact. The look of glee in his eye as he thumbed through the full-color special edition of Motor Trend (along with an indefinite subscription) made it clear just how much of a monster we’d created in letting Jamie get his hands on a car— Sorry, get his hands on BONNIE (Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ). See? A monster.  He was vociferating passionately about one of the articles on new headlight trends for 1951, when both of our Parent Radar Senses pricked up. “Bree, what are ye doing, there, lass?” 

Bree was walking purposefully toward the foyer, and said only, “Somethin’” 

Jamie snorted with a laugh. “Ye dinna say!” 

“Loveyyyyy…. Tell Mum and Da what you’re doing, over there.” 

She didn’t answer, intent on reaching under the buffet cabinet by the door to grab for something, something that turned out to be a mailing envelope.  

“Why, you clever girl, spotting that!” I peered in vain to ascertain if it was a piece of incoming mail or outgoing. Regardless, it must have gotten pushed off the back of the cabinet by accident, and sat unseen for God knew how long. Hopefully it wasn’t an overdue bill or something urgent. 

“Aye, good work, cub. Can ye bring it here?” 

Pleased with her successful rescue mission, Bree skipped back to us and gave the letter to Jamie. He glanced at it for a minute, then grinned. “That’s a Christmas present for your Mama, a leannan.” 

“Oh? Another one?”

“No’ one that was planned, but I think it’ll be a welcome one, all the same.” 

“Heer’go, Mama,” Bree said, flinging it unceremoniously into my lap. Harvard University, the return address said. 

“Could be very much NOT a present, you know,” I said, seizing up and feeling like I wanted to vomit from anxiety. “In admissions, small envelopes are usually bad news, not good.” 

Jamie’s expression wavered a bit at that, but he gave a game sort of shrug. “Open it?” 

I slit open the envelope with a fingernail. God, these old fuddy-duddy bastards surely rejected me for being a married woman. Thank God, I hadn’t known I was pregnant at the time, for that surely would have been an automatic, No thank you. This rejection would be—

Accepted


It must have shown on my face, for Jamie was beaming from ear to ear as he crawled over to kiss me. “Well done, Sassenach!!” 

“It does say accepted, right?” I handed him the letter. “My brain isn’t making it up?” 

“Aye, there it is, right in black and white. ‘We are pleased to inform you that you have been ACCEPTED.’ Bree, lass, your mother’s going to be a doctor! That’s exciting, aye?” 

“Yeah!!!” Bree said, though she was mostly focused on her trains. 

“More like I’m going to be a part-time organic chemistry and biology student,” I said, but practically bubbling over with relief. I’d been expecting that goddamn letter WEEKS ago! “Just the two prerequisites, but…” BUT STILL! 

“I’m so proud of ye, lass,” he said, beaming. “Happy, happy Christmas, mo ghraidh.”  

TW Preference - How they let you know they love you without saying it

A/n: I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you like it ^-^ 

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Stiles Stilinski 

Stiles liked to kiss you whenever he could. Usually when you were in public or with the pack it would be on the cheek or on your forehead but both of you favoured them. Whenever you made a witty comment or pointed out something important that the pack had missed he would pull you closer with his arm around your waist and press a kiss to just below your hairline. If you or him had to leave to go somewhere without the other, Stiles would not let anyone go anywhere without placing a quick kiss on your cheek. But sometimes, mainly in private, he’s just so in awe with how beautiful and talented and wonderful you are that he will place a finger under your chin so he can kiss you properly and you know exactly what he’s trying to convey when he does.

Scott McCall

While he was very proud of how hard you worked and everything you did for the pack, Scott knew that sometimes in the whirlwind of life you forgot to take proper care of yourself. Scott would turn up at your house in the early hours of the morning and found you sitting at your desk still researching, he knew he would never convince you to go to bed so he would close your laptop and lead you there. Without a word, he would lay down with you and wait until you fell asleep before he would close his eyes with you in his arms. Every so often you wouldn’t turn up in the cafeteria for a few days and Scott would find you in the library. “Have you eaten today?” “Urm.” “Y/n, when was the last time you ate a proper meal?” He would see your guilty smile and roll his eyes but you knew he only did all this because he cares. 

Isaac Lahey 

You knew that Isaac had a troubled past but you’d never be able to tell on a normal day because he puts on a happy face and is ready to make sarcastic or funny comments whenever they’re needed. This is all most people see. But you know when he’s seeming a little off and when you get to your house later you tell him that it’s okay and he usually immediately falls into your arms. You can practically see the walls that he’s spent years building crumbling in your hands and you know that Isaac would let them fall for anyone else. You knew how much trust it must take and you were glad that it was in you. 

Derek Hale 

Most of your evenings were spent in Derek’s loft and so he took the opportunity to cook the most wonderful food he could for you. When you arrived after school the loft would usually already smell of the spices he was using to prepare it. Time after time you told him that he’s too busy to be bothering with all this effort. “It’s not too much effort if it’s for you.” If you couldn’t stay for dinner he’d either give you some to take home with you or a few cookies or a slice of cake to have after whatever you were going to have at home. Although you were still a bit apprehensive about the whole thing you’re favourite was when he gave you a box wrapped in brown paper with the instructions to put it in the fridge and eat it at school the next day. It was always amazing to unwrap it in the cafeteria or the library and find one of his wonderful recipes and a note on top reminding you to enjoy your day.

Liam Dunbar 

Liam had been nervous when he asked you out and this anxious energy hadn’t seemed to disappear, only shift. During the school day he would find you between classes to check that everything was okay and once you’d reassured him he would shuffle quickly to his next class after placing a kiss to your forehead. You had to keep your phone on silent and away in your bag because it was always vibrating with texts, how are you? x, everything okay? x, just checking in x. To some they would seem annoying but you appreciated how much he cared about you. Once, during a Lacrosse game, after you had been hurt a little by a werewolf looking for Scott, Liam would hardly take his eyes off of you where you were safely guarded by Lydia, Malia and Kira. He got ran into more than a couple times and eventually Coach had to bench him after he was completely swept off of his feet, it was all quite endearing. 

Jordan Parrish 

“You’re so intelligent" 

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?" 

"How did I get so lucky?" 

"I’m so proud of you, you should be proud of yourself too" 

"Sorry, I just keep getting lost in your eyes" 

Every time Jordan gave you a compliment you’d feel the blush spread across your cheeks immediately, you could never stop it. Whether it was over text or face to face, he would never go more than half an hour without telling you that you ‘made things so much better when you were around’ or that 'your smile lights up the whole room’. He knew that you had struggled with self-esteem issues and wanted to completely change that. So while it was sometimes embarrassing, Jordan made you feel a whole lot better and you wouldn’t trade him or his ways for the world. 

Allison Argent 

While you and Allison had things in common, there were obviously still some differences. Most of them were what you got up to in your free time. What surprised you most is how keen Allison was to give up some of her free time that she could have spent practising archery going with you to take part in your hobbies. You could tell when she wasn’t really enjoying it and knew that it wasn’t likely that she would do it again with you but you were so grateful that she tried when most people would have a conversation about it with you once before changing the subject. After a while of experimentation, you and Allison found something you could do together which often turned out to be the highlight of your week. 

Lydia Martin 

Lydia talks a lot, you definitely knew that, but what you didn’t know that the majority of the time when she was talking to others the subject was more often or not you or something you’d done. When Stiles told you about it, you were completely blown away. Apparently, she loved to talk people’s ear off about how kind and caring and intelligent you are. When you asked her about it, you found her innocent and slightly embarrassed face adorable and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

Kira Yukimura 

As you found out pretty quickly, Kira wasn’t the best at showing her affection for you, but she was always making up for it. Before you even opened your locker you knew that there would be a sticky note on the inside of the door below the picture of you two telling you that 'I haven’t seen you today but I know that you look stunning’ or 'I hope you have a wonderful day’ or 'Keep your head up, someone might be falling in love with your smile (p.s. Someone is and it’s me’. You would tuck it into the front of your notebook so you would see it all day before putting it in a small box in your room with all the others. But that was not the only note you would find all day. You are pretty sure Kira had other people doing it for you because, during the day, even more notes of the same nature would turn up. Your bookmark would be replaced when you got it out to read it at lunch. The page you were working from in your text book had a small post-it note that she’d doodled a heart and a smiley face on. You’d open your pencil case in your third class of the day to find another that had definitely not been there in your other classes. Sometimes you just could not believe the extent that Kira would go just to show her affection.

anonymous asked:

Please tell me about Supreme Chancellor Qui-Gon Jinn and his favorite Jedi knight, Obi-Wan Kenobi. *chinhands* Does everyone think they're lovers? Does Obi-Wan mistake Qui-Gon's interest as just the chancellor being "intense"? Is Mace simultaneously jealous yet thinks Qui-Gon's interest is a good thing for the Jedi order?

Almost bouncing from his seat, the chancellor made his way to greet the Jedi making his way into his office, catching the mans hands and pressing a swift kiss to the back of both. “Knight Kenobi, I was starting to think you’d be late.” He smiled warmly down at the younger man.

“Apologies Chancellor Jinn, Master Windu wanted to make sure I knew the risks posed to your esteemed personage.” Obi-Wan smiled up at the chancellor, trying not to blush though failing a bit at the kisses.

Sweet Force was the Chancellor ever charming.

Qui-Gon Jinn was tall, waist length silvering hair was pulled back in a tight braid and he had the most perfect blue eyes Obi-Wan had ever seen, deep and intense in their color like an ocean. And Force if the mans hands, broken nose and general body size were any indication, well endowed too.

Though that was not the main reason Obi-Wan looked to the rather commanding man, no Obi-Wan liked the way the other spoke, the sharp and slightly cynical diplomat beneath the skin with an arrogance in his step he could back up. The serenely experienced man who could send Obi-Wan’s skin buzzing from the intensity he left behind in the wake of his words.

People listened to this man because of that.

Obi-Wan listened to him because of that.

“Ah of course, Master Windu.” The man hummed without infliction to his voice, giving Obi-Wan no indication what the other thought about Mace. “Well then my Jedi escort, are we ready to depart?” He offered his arm to him.

“A-Actually ser, I have a gift for you.” Obi-Wan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before reaching into his belt pocket, missing the look of pleased surprise on the others face. “Its not a lot, as Jedi we don’t really get a large pay and most of our credits go to the basic comforts we enjoy like tea but I saw this and thought of you ser.”

“I’m sure I’d love it Knight Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon offered warmly, smiling widely when a sharp blush crossed the Jedi’s cheeks.

Obi-Wan pulled a small wrapped parcel from his pocket and offered it to Qui-Gon.

It was plainly wrapped in brown wrapping paper and hemp string but Qui-Gon took it carefully, untying the string.

In his palm a hair clip rested, delicately made in the shape of a marigold of all things in gold.

Qui-Gon blinked.

It was artfully made though, a bit light which indicated they had not used a lot of material but still a sweet gesture.

“…Marigolds mean passion and creativity. I saw them at a market I was at during my missions and…well I thought about you, how your passion and creativity in your words inspire the Senate and the Galaxy.”

Obi-Wan bit his lips, glancing up at the older man before looking down when the other didn’t say anything. “I-It was a stupid gift, I shoul-”

“No, no I like it, its very thoughtful Obi-Wan. Would you add it to my braid?”

Obi-Wan took it and took the braid in hand when the man turned for him, breathing out in relief as he clipped it on while trying not to take note of how it felt to have the others hair against his skin. Force that was something for his dreams damn it.

The marigold rested against the small of Qui-Gon’s back, sparkling as it caught the light as the arm was once again offered to Obi-Wan.

This time Obi-Wan took it with a small smile up to the man.

()()()

Watching the vid with a small smile, Qui-Gon ignored the glowering Senator from Naboo. Palpatine was just a worm trying to play spider anyhow, he only garnered interest when he tried to plot something he did not want Qui-Gon to put his large nose into.

No, this was much more interesting.

All the holojournalists had taken note of the out of character adorment that hung on Qui-Gon’s braid, all of them speculating where this gift had come from and if there was a potential suitor somewhere in the wings.

As he moved across the screen, the camera also caught Obi-Wan, the Jedi’s serene but watchful expression taking in everything around them though he managed to send one of the journalists a cheeky little wink and smile before going back to his professional self.

That was Qui-Gon’s favorite, Obi-Wan’s cheeky little smile and wink.

Having the knight at his side seemed to do wonder for the Jedi’s standing with the public, to see the young and decidedly handsome Jedi guarding the Chancellor yet also taking the time to curry favor with his smile.

“Chancellor please take a look at these rep-”

“I have already seen over them Senator Palpatine. They are unfounded and I am curious as to where these claims come from.” Qui-Gon turned his attention from the viewscreen and raised his brows at the other man. “If you would share your sour-”

“They do not wish to be known in case the Jedi take reprisal.”

“You think very little of the Jedi.” Qui-Gon noted, raising his brows even higher.

“And you think very much of them.” Palpatine countered.

“Considering they see to my safety…” He let the words hang as he watched the Senator. ‘Hmm… perhaps I should send a message to the Council with Obi-Wan…’ A joint investigation into the claims of the Jedi trying to take control may be in the cards if only to figure out where these claims came from.

It would allow him even more time with the young knight after all.

733 words, Estimated reading time: 4 minutes

Brooklyn, 1940

Steve Rogers had been eying a 35mm Kodak in the store window for months. He’d never said anything about it though, because he knew times were tough and there was NO WAY he could scrape up 17 whole dollars for it.
But Steve didn’t need to say anything because Bucky saw every lingering gaze each time they walked passed that window and he swore to himself that he’d get it for him no matter how he had to do it.
Over the next few months, Bucky worked tons of overtime at the factory and any other odd job he could find. Didn’t matter what it was. If he didn’t know how to do it, he’d learn. Any sort of car repair, any and all house/apartment fixes, shoe shining.
He even pawned a few things he probably wouldn’t miss too much.
As Steve’s birthday neared, Bucky had finally scraped and saved enough to buy the camera, and even had enough left over to buy a couple new paint brushes and a new pad of paper.
“What’s this Buck?” Steve said tentatively, eyeing the package on the table in their kitchen on the morning of July 4, 1941.
“Thought we didn’t have the money for any birthday presents this year.” Steve questioned with an arched brow.
“Just open it.” Bucky coaxed, with a soft but eager smile. He held the paper and brushes behind his back to reveal after the camera.
Steve eyed him suspiciously for a moment more before stepping up to the table and examining the brown paper wrapped cube.
He carefully pulled on the tape holding the paper flaps one by one until the paper fell open, revealing the boxed camera inside.

Steve immediately froze. His mouth slowly dropped open as he blinked and stared at it.
It couldn’t possibly be… maybe it’s just the box and there’s something else inside it.

“W-,” Steve’s voice was hoarse so he cleared his throat and began again. “What’s inside?” He whispered, with a tentative look back up at Bucky, who was gazing at him expectantly.
“Open it up and see.” Bucky said with a laugh.
Steve’s nimble fingers slipped under the top flap and lifted slowly, like he was scared something was gonna come out and bite him.
As he saw that it truly was the camera sitting in the box, he felt tears prickling at his eyes.
There’s no way…
“Buck…” Started Steve, but his throat was too tight to speak further, so he just looked up at him with glistening eyes.
“Happy birthday Stevie.” Bucky said as he placed the pad of paper and two brushes on the table as well.
Steve threw his small frame against Bucky’s in the tightest hug he could manage. As he stumbled back a couple steps, Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve and held onto him.
“How?” Steves small voice was muffled against Bucky’s chest.
“Don’t worry about it.” Was all Bucky said.
Steve would press more about it later, but right now he was too eager to try it out.

After finally letting go, Steve immediately went to the table to position the film inside the camera, pushing aside the paper and brushes for later in his excitement.
He’d apparently been researching everything about this camera long before now and was already well aware of how it worked.
He scrambled out the door, down the stairs and skidded to a stop outside their apartment building dragging Bucky behind him all the way.
Steve walked out and stood several feet away from Bucky and brought the camera up to look through the view finder at him.
“Come on Stevie.. what are you doin with that thing? You don’t need no pictures of me.” He grumbled.
Steve ignored him and continued fiddling with the knobs and switches until he had it where he wanted it and looked up eagerly at Bucky.
Bucky sighed and let his arms drop by his sides in defeat.
“Fine… so whaddya want me to do.” Bucky conceded.
“Just stand there and stay still.” Steve answered as he looked through the view finder and squared up his shot.
“That’s it? I feel like an idiot.” Bucky flatly uttered.
“Well that’s a coincidence, cause you look like an idiot too.” Steve teased, as he snapped the picture.

Even made Isak a little present-table where he arranged his gifts for his boy (he had 2 smaller ones and one bigger gift, wrapped in green and blue wrapping paper) and then there were two other presents.

One that was heavy and looked suspiciously like a book, wrapped in brown paper and the other one was smaller, wrapped in purple paper.

Isak looked up to Even with a curious frown. 

“Purple is from mom, brown from dad. I told them they would see you on thursday, but mom insisted that you should get them at your actual birthday.” he added with a fond eyeroll (a move he stole from Isak when it came to his parents). Somethig in Isak’s chest fluttered and his stomach filled with warmth and he was grapped by giddy excitement.

Presents! Even and Even’s parents got him actual presents!

For Isak, his midnight celebration was absolutely magical. 

Secrets Don’t Make Friends Ch3

Originally posted by monstertalesbdsm

olicity || explicit || smut || 4620 || more fics

summary: Felicity stumbles upon the lair after getting drunk at Verdant. She meets the Hood, but it doesn’t go as she expects. (prompt by @geniewithwifi)
chapter word count: 2128
chapters: 3/?
a/n: i got asked for some blindfold smut…. so who am I to say no ;) this is also the first chapter with some Oliver POV


[ch1] [ch2]

Preview: 

“Package for you, Ms. Smoak,” a young boy from the mail room handed her a medium sized, brown paper wrapped package.

“That’s… weird,” she muttered, taking it from him.

It was heavier than she anticipated.

He had her sign before he scurried off to keep delivering mail. She undid the wrapping and revealed an equally plain looking box. It took a moment, but she popped the box open. Inside lay a battered laptop, a usb drive, and a note.

                                                   Ms. Smoak,

                                  I need information off of this laptop.

                        Put it on the usb drive and leave it on your desk.

                                 There will be something in it for you.

The Hood signed it with a small arrow.

Felicity bit down on her lip. If his incentive was anything like the previous times then she was definitely inclined to help him. What did that say about her? Probably a lot of things, but she didn’t want to think about any of them. She was going to help him and feel good about that. And feel good later too. Really good.

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THE OTHER COOPER

Originally posted by fyeahriverdale

If we go back i time eleven years ago, you might see the formation of Riverdale’s three musketeers. The twins, Y/n and Betty Cooper celebrating their fifth birthday with the right hand man Archie Andrews sitting next to Y/n proud of the fact that he already had turned five with his birthday a week before the two girls’.

As eight thirty rolled around, most of the guests had left a long time ago, except Archie. The three kids were playing hide and go seek in the front lawn. In a five year olds mind, the farther away from your house, that your parents allowed of course, was the perfect hiding spot, or pots since Y/n always wanted to hide with her older twin. 

“Go by yourself,” Betty didn’t mean to sound aggravated, she just was tired of Y/n hiding with her and then giggling so loud the whole block could hear. She wanted to  prove to Archie that she was the better hider. “Find somewhere else to hide. Go away.”

Y/n blinked as she held her new blue teddy bear close to her. “Fine.”

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