cease the moment

Transference (M) – Chapter 01

cr. [X]

Summary: During a routine visit to the local bakery, you stumble upon an intriguing business card and figure, what the hell. The business arrangement becomes…mutually beneficial. Y’all know where this is going.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 2,061

Warning: Tantric!Hoseok, therapist/client relationship, discussion of BDSM, sex work, profanity.

A/N: This work is a byproduct of about 6 months of insomnia and 60-hour work weeks, which resulted in a series of recurring dreams about Jung Hoseok which were…*fans self*

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

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Kenshi Yonezu's Monster Encyclopedia (Text Translation)

Kenshi Yonezu released his first book, Monster Encyclopedia, on December 10th, 2016. It’s a collection and expansion of a monthly series he did for the magazine ROCKIN'ON JAPAN, where he drew monsters and gave a short description of their ecology. Here are translations of all the descriptions from the book.

(Amazon.co.jp)

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Let Us Know (PolyHamilsquad x reader)

A/N: Hello, my lovely wonderfuls! Here is my first (of many) polyhamilsquad story! I just realized I never put what character I’m writing about in the title (whoops). I apologize, I know I appreciate that when other (more talented) writers do that, so I’ll try keep that up. Anyways, I had lots of fun writing this and I really hope you all enjoy it! As always thank you, thank you, thank you for reading! And I hope you all have a day as wonderful and lovely as you are! Oh! And the song used in this fic is Back At One By Brian McKnight :)

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You loved Sunday mornings. They were your favorite day of the week. Mostly because it was all your boys day off and you all got to sleep late. You loved waking up wrapped up with all your boys. It never failed to make you smile and fill you with joy.

This particular Sunday morning you were woken up by Johns soft lips pressing gentle kisses to your neck. You smile with your eyes still closed and run your fingers through his hair.

He looks up at you a smile gracing his sweet freckled face.

“Good morning lover girl, you’re looking beautiful as always,” he says nuzzling your neck and giving you more kisses.

You giggle and shake your head.

“I don’t think I look beautiful at all, but thank you,” you pull his face to yours and place a soft kiss of your own on his lips.

Lafayette starts stir beside you, “I want morning kisses too, ma petit colombe.”
You smile and turn to him.

“Well, Johnny here decided to steal his morning kisses from me.”

John nods pecking your cheek as you smile. Laf looks serious in thought, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards him.

“I guess, I’ll have to steal mine too,” he says placing kisses all over your face.

“Gil,” you giggle.

He smiles down at you, and places a long, toe curling kiss on your lips. He pulls away when John clears his throat. Laf looks at John.

“You want on too, ma douce?”

John nods and Laf gives him kiss just like yours. They pull apart and you can see the love in their eyes and it makes your heart swell.

“Don’t mind me boys, I’m just going to move out of the way,” you say jokingly, trying to scoot out from between them. Before you can really get anywhere, Lafs hands are on your hips again, holding you still.

“Non, mon ange, we’re not done with you yet.”

You look from him to John and see their matching smirks and purse your lips.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wake up the other boys?” you ask, thinking the suggestion might distract them.

“We will, in just a few minutes,” Laf says as he starts kissing your neck and John kisses that ticklish spot on your ribs.

You start to squirm, trying to move. When you hear Alex begin to stir.

“Alex, honey, good morning. Look, boys Alex is awake,” you say and they both cease for a moment and chuckle.

“Are you bothering our dear (Y/N) already?”

“Non, mon amour, we’re stealing morning kisses,” Laf says while wiggling his eyebrows at Alex.

“Well, in that case,” and without warning Alex jumps over John and is on top of you within seconds.

“Alex,” you say in a warning tone.

“Yes, my love?” he asks a smirk at his lips as he leans over you.

“Don’t you think I should go make breakfast?”

“Of course, right after I steal my morning kisses,” and with that his lips are on yours.

He places a passionate kiss on your lips and then a gentle kiss, before moving down to your collar bone. Meanwhile, John and Laf had taken to kissing your hands and wrists. Leaving you no way of escape.

“Boys I think you’ve stolen more than enough,” you say breathlessly.

“Are you sure, mon ange?”

“I disagree baby girl.”

“Nope, not nearly enough, my love.”

You sigh, your only hope was Hercules. You start trying to tap him with your foot. You do so a few times and he starts to stir.

“Herc, my darling, would you mind helping me?”

He lifts his head to see your predicament and chuckles before sitting up.

“Alright, my loves, leave the cupcake alone.”

They all give a slight pout, as Herc helps you out of their hold, holding you to his chest. You smile up at him.

“Now, what’s going on?”

“We were stealing morning kisses,” John says wrapping his arms around Alex, while he reaches for Laf.

Herc laughs, “stealing morning kisses huh?”

He looks at you and you nod seriously. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to ask a lady for a kiss? Watch and learn.”

Herc turns his attention back to you and clears his throat.

“My darling, beautiful lady, may I have the pleasure of receiving a morning kiss?” You giggle before responding.

“Of course my darling,” you giggle, placing a hand to his cheek as you kiss him slowly and sweetly, silently thanking him for his rescue.

You both pull apart smiling, and look at the rest of your boys when you hear a throat clear. You see all three of them on one knee on the bed, with their right hands over their hearts and their left out towards you.

“My darling, beautiful lady, may I have the pleasure of receiving a morning kiss?” they all recite in together. You laugh and look at Herc, signaling him to let you down.

“Since you all asked so nicely,” you approach each of them giving them quick kisses on the lips barely slipping out of Alexander’s grasp.

They all give you pout, while you stand behind Herc.

“Darling, will you keep them distracted while I go make breakfast?

“Anything for you cupcake,” you kiss Hercs cheek and make your way to the kitchen. You hear a few sad groans before a burst of laughter from the bedroom.

You smile as you begin breakfast, this was really your favorite day. You loved spending time with your boys, and this was actually somewhat rare.

Your boys worked so hard, it was difficult to have this type of quality time all together. But, you usually had at least one of them around, so it didn’t bother you too much. You always reveled in these days though, these perfect blissful days.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Soon your favorite days were gone. At first it wasn’t that bad, but within a month it was like they all got twice as busy as before. Even your Sundays were no longer waking up late and spending the day together.

Now there was always one of them gone and you hated it, but you rationalized with yourself. It was their work, it was just because they had to work that was all.

Their usual attentiveness had dwindled. In the morning you woke up with your boys and made them breakfast, and lunches (they had a tendency to forget to eat). Instead of sweet, sometimes lingering kisses, you got a quick peck on the cheek or forehead as they made their way out the door.

Again, you told yourself that they were just consumed with work. They weren’t purposely putting you on the back burner. You reassured yourself daily, you knew they loved you. They had told you and shown you countless times. They loved you, they did.

Two months went by and it was still much of the same. You would tell yourself everyday, it’s just because of work. They had time consuming jobs.

Lafayette was a heart surgeon, Alex and John were lawyers, and Herc was a clothing designer. Laf was called into work at random times, of course you could understand how tired he was. Alex and John were both top lawyers at their firm, of course they want to stay there, you could understand their stress.

Herc was one of the best designers in New York, not to mention the country, and he had to travel to make sure things were done properly. Of course you understood, he made beautiful clothing, they were his own masterpieces, he wanted them done right.

All of this you understood and took into consideration. Everytime you got a peck instead of a kiss, a wave instead of an embrace, a quick ‘sure’ instead of an ‘of course, my love’. Everytime you got a brush off quickly because they had more important things to do.

You reminded yourself that they had hard jobs and that they worked hard. You didn’t need to take anything personally. But, it was getting harder and harder to do. You were a nurse at a pediatricians office and maybe your work wasn’t as hard as theirs, but you still made time for them.

You always made sure they ate during the day, sometimes forgetting to eat yourself. You always tried to make sure they got enough sleep, especially Alexander. You made sure they knew how much you loved them. Was it so bad to want that in return?

Your patience and understanding was starting to wear thin. You had had a really shitty day. The office had been busier than normal and full of sick children. Several of which had puked and or peed on you. There was constant screaming, and even some unfortunate hair pulling.

You had a pulsing headache, your feet were killing you, and you smelt unpleasant. All you wanted was a long shower, food, and sleep.

When you arrived home, you could see all of your boys were home. On your way into your home, you could hear Alex yelling at someone over the phone. John seemed to be looking over some files and Laf and Herc seemed to be talking in the kitchen.

You stood their for a few minutes waiting for a ‘welcome home’ or some type of acknowledgement. Much to your dismay there came none. You made your way to the bedroom, but before you were all the way there, Laf finally noticed you were home.

“There she is! We’ve been waiting for you,” he says smiling. “We’re going out in celebration of our Hercules being home. Go get ready so we can go.”

The thought of going out right now made you want cringe. You were so tired, physically and emotionally. You felt almost empty with all you’ve given these past months.

“I’m sorry boys, I just don’t feel up to it, but you guys go and have fun.”

They all look disappointed, including Alex, who had finally gotten off the phone.

“Come on (Y/N), it’ll be fun. Just get ready real quick,” Alex says looking at you like you were being slightly ridiculous.

“Please, we haven’t spent quality time together in a while, go get ready and we’ll wait,” John says in a sweet tone that makes you want to cry and yell at the same time. Where have you been??

“No, boys really I’m sorry, I’ve had a long day and just want to shower and go to sleep.”

“How about you shower and then we can go, I know you’ve had a long day, but don’t you want to spend time with us,” Alex tells you somewhat accusingly. The other boys looking at you for an answer.

And it’s the final straw, you had been patient, and sweet and understanding for two months. And now they were turning this on you? As if you’re the one neglecting them, as if you hadn’t waited up for them and then woken up with them to make sure they got to work and home okay. As if you hadn’t been taking the bare minimum of affection from them for two months!

“You know what, I know we haven’t spent time together. You want to know how I know? For the past two months, I’ve made sure all of you were okay, and eating, and cared about, whether you were here or at work or traveling.” You look at all them pointedly, trying to keep your tears at bay.

“I have waited up and gotten up for all of you everyday, made sure you had everything you needed,” you close your eyes and take a breath. “You know what I’ve gotten these past two months?” you look at each of them, they all look somewhat shocked at your outburst. “I’ve gotten quick pecks and half assed acknowledgments.”

“I know you all work hard and you’re all amazing at what you do. Usually you do make time for me and I appreciate the time I do get, but these past two months,” you take a breath as the tears starts to spill over your cheeks. “It’s just, it would be nice not to feel so empty once in awhile. I love you all so much but lately I feel like I’m just giving, and giving, and giving, and I’m left with nothing! I’ve tried to be understanding and patient, but I can’t do it anymore. And you know what I shouldn’t have to!”

They all stare at you guilt and sorrow on their faces, they look so distraught. And you feel instantly guilty.

“Baby girl…”

“My love…”

“Mon ange..”

“Cupcake…”

They have tears brimming in their eyes and you hate that you caused it. No matter how upset you were with them, you didn’t want them to hurt.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. It’s not your fault. I know it’s not, you’re all so good at what you do and I know you love your work. I’m just tired, that’s all.” They start to approach you, but you step back. “I’m fine, I promise. I’m just gonna go for a drive for a bit. You guys go out and have a nice dinner, okay?” You turn and walk out the door without waiting for a reply.

The boys try to stop you, but by the time they get to the door, you’re already gone. They go back inside and decide to wait for your return.

After two hours had passed they grew worried.

“She’ll come back, right?” John asks his other lovers.

“Of course she will, she loves us remember,” Herc tells him hugging him to his chest. Although the same fear was growing in the pit of his stomach

Alex looks less sure as he paces, hoping that you’re not crying on the road and his heart aching to be near you.

Lafayette is sitting on the couch, his knee bouncing, thinking of all the places you might go. And it hits him, the Schuylers! They were your best friends.

“I’m going to call Angelica and see if she’s heard from her,” the other boys nod their heads frantically.

“Angie, please tell me mon ange is with you….”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

You drove around for thirty minutes before stopping at the Schuylers. You hated coming over unannounced, but you weren’t ready to go home and you were so tired.

You knocked on the door and tried to make yourself look presentable.

Peggy opened the door, took one look at you, pulled you in and called her sisters.
Eliza and Angelica came into the living room and immediately embraced you.

“(Y/N), what happened?” Angelica asks, brushing hair out of your face.

You try to hold back your tears, but they break free and fall down your cheeks. Eliza hugs you close and lets you cry on her shoulder until you’ve calmed.

After a few minutes, Peggy hands you some tissues and you thank her. You take a few deep breaths and tell them all what happened. How the past two months that the boys were so busy and you felt so lonely, how you tried to power through it, and how when you finally had all of them together you had an outburst that just ended up making everyone feel bad, including yourself.

“Okay, while we can all understand that they have time consuming jobs, that doesn’t mean they stop making time for you.”

“But Angie”-

“No, she’s right (Y/N). You shouldn’t feel any remorse about the way you feel in your heart. That’s not something you can control,” Eliza tells you holding your gaze.

Peggy nods in agreement before adding on.

“And you shouldn’t keep all of your emotions bottled up, if they’re doing something that hurts your feelings or makes you angry you need to say so.”

You nod knowing all of them are right, but the guilt still doesn’t dissipate.

“I need to get back home and talk to them,” you say getting up, but Angelica pulls you back down.

“You definitely need to talk to them, but it can wait until tomorrow.”

When you try protest both Eliza and Peggy shake their heads at you.

“You’re tired and emotionally drained, you need some time to refresh yourself.”

“And it’s okay to let them sweat a little bit, you do a lot for them,” Peggy says giving you a wink.

You laugh and shake your head.

“I need to tell them where I am, I don’t want them to freak out.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Angie says taking your phone from you. You knew better than to argue with her.

“Please be nice, I know I was upset, but I didn’t speak up either and they never meant to hurt me,” you look at her with pleading eyes, while she sighs and rolls her eyes at you.

“I guess, Eliza can call them then.”

The four of break out in laughter, once you all settle they send you to shower and told you to get some sleep.

Just as you leave, Angelica’s phone starts ringing and she sees it’s Lafayette. Right on time, she thinks.

“Angie, please tell me mon ange is with you..”

“Yes, she’s here and she’s spending the night, so don’t expect her home.”

She can hear the rest of the boys in the background, with relieved murmurs. She puts the phone on speaker, so her sisters can hear.

“Non, we can come get her.”

“You will do no such thing Laf. She needs some space, she is completely physically and emotionally drained.”

The boys pause at Eliza’s stern tone, but start up again.

“We need to talk to her, and comfort her, so she knows we love her,” John says his voice pleading.

“You can tell her all that tomorrow,” Peggy says.

The boys know that they won’t get past the Schuylers so they concede.

“Can you at least tell her that we love her and we’re sorry,” Alexander asks, sounding a little exasperated.

“We’ll relay the ‘we love you’, but you can all apologize yourselves tomorrow,” Angelica states.

“Try and get some sleep boys,” Eliza says in a more sympathetic tone this time.

Before they hang up, they hear a scoff and then, ‘yeah, like that’s gonna happen.’ They giggle and make their way to bed themselves.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next day, the boys are knocking at the Schuylers door, bright and early. More accurately, Alex is knocking incessantly while the others are asking him to pause for a second.

Minutes later, the door swings open to reveal a very irritated Angelica.

“It’s eight in the morning on a Saturday,” she nearly growls while glaring at them.

“I brought some croissants, for you all, mon ami,” Laf offers with a pleading smile.

She just raises an eyebrow, before opening the door wider and standing aside so they could enter.

“I’ll wake the angel, you wait here,” she says walking away.

They all wait in the living room, Alexander is cracking his knuckles, Johns leg is bouncing, Lafayette has his hands resting on his thighs and tapping his fingers on them, and Herc has his elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him sitting completely still.

As soon as you entered the room they all stood and resisted the urge to run to you. John just couldn’t help himself.

Before you can say a word he rushes to you and wraps his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“We’re sorry, we’re so sorry please don’t be upset anymore, we love you. Please don’t leave us.”

As the initial shock wears off you realize what John just said and look at the boys wide eyed. They all look away, and your heart aches.

You embrace John and step back a bit so you can look him in the eyes.

“I’m not leaving you guys, I love you,” your eyes meet each of the boys. “I may have been upset, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to quit on our relationship, you’re all my everything.”

The rest of the boys, rush to you and John. You’re completely surrounded by them, and you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You finally felt at peace, the boys were your home.

“We’re so sorry, cupcake.”

“Oui, we don’t deserve you mon ange.”

“You’re our everything, love, we all need you more than you realize. You could probably do without us, but we cannot do without you.”

You look at each of them, tears springing to your eyes and your heart swelling. John turns you to face him and brushes a tear from your cheek.

“It’s true baby girl, and we came up with a little something to prove it.”

You look at him confused.

“A little something?”

You look to the other boys, and they all just smile at you. Herc takes your hand and leads you to the couch.

“We’re going to need you to sit here, cupcake,” he winks at you.

Your confusion only grows as they all line up in front of you.

“You got the disc, babe,” Herc says to John, who happily nods and places a cd in the stereo.

We’re they going to perform for you? And they all got into the same pose. They all stand their hands clasped together in front of them and their heads down.

It’s undeniable that we should be together, it’s unbelievable that used to say that I’d fall never…

Herc was the first to step forward lip-syncing the song and then followed John, Laf, and Alex.

The basis is need to know, if you don’t know just how I feel

Then let me show you now that I’m for real

If all things in time, time will reveal
Yeah

As one said a line the others danced behind him. Until they got to the chorus, which they all did together, acting out nearly every word.

One, you’re like a dream come true
Two, just wanna be with you
Three, girl it’s plain to see
That your the only one for me

Four, repeat steps one through three
Five, make you fall in love with me
If ever I believe my work is done
Then I start Back at One
Yeah (yeah)

You couldn’t help but smile at your boys, they were so ridiculously sweet, it made your heart soar.

It’s so incredible the way things work themselves out

And all emotional, once you know what it’s all about babe

And undesirable for us to be apart
Never would of made it very far

Cause you know that you’ve got the keys to my heart

Peggy, Angie, and Eliza had come to the living room because they heard music and held back their giggles at the boys sweet gesture.

Cause,
One, you’re like a dream come true
Two, just wanna be with you
Three, girl it’s plain to see
That your the only one for me

Four, repeat steps one through three
Five, make you fall in love with me
If ever I believe my work is done
Then I start Back at One

As you watched them, you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have your own personal boy band. You loved them all so much.

Say farewell to the dark of night I see the coming of the sun

I feel like a little child
Whose life has just begun

You came and breathed new life
Into this lonely heart of mine

You threw out the life line just in the Nick of Time

As the song continued, the more dramatic they got and you couldn’t contain your giggles. And seeing your face lit up with joy made the boys hearts race.

One, you’re like a dream come true
Two, just wanna be with you
Three, girl it’s plain to see
That your the only one for me

Four, repeat steps one through three
Five, make you fall in love with me
If ever I believe my work is done
Then I start Back at One

When they finished the last line, you jumped up and clapped, while the girls followed suit. They bowed and you went to them, giving each of them a kiss.

“So, you liked it?” Alex asked nervously.

“Are you kidding, I loved it! If I hadn’t already forgiven all of you, that would have convinced me,” you said smiling big at them.

“Can we go home now, cupcake?” Herc asks his arms around your waist and his forehead against yours.

“Of course,” you say smiling and kiss nose.

“Bien, because we didn’t get a lot of sleep, and we missed you last night,” Laf says nuzzling your neck behind you, making you giggle.

“I call sitting with (Y/N) in the back,” Alex says while pulling you into his arms, and resting his head on yours, as you rest yours on his chest.

“Oh! Me too!” John exclaims wrapping his arms around you and Alex from behind you.

“I guess that means we get to cuddle with our darling girl when we get home then,” Herc says to Laf.

Both Alex and John gasp, and you giggle.

“Okay, boys you can take turns, let’s go home.” You gather your things and say goodbye and Thank you to the sisters, before heading out with your boys.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When you all arrived home and made your way to the bedroom, Lafayette stopped you.

“What is it Gil?”

“Mon ange, before we take our nap, I just want you to know that if you ever feel that way again, you can tell us.”

“Yeah, baby girl, we hated seeing you so upset.”

“Darling, we love you and you come before our work, always.”

“Love, if we ever fail to give you what you need, please, let us know.”

You look at each of them and nod.

“I promise, I will from now on. I’m sorry for not saying anything.”

Alex shakes his head at you.

“You don’t need to apologize my love.”
They all ask for a ‘good nap kiss’ and you giggle and give them each a sweet kiss, before you all settle into bed. You’re cuddled between Herc and Laf, as your eyes drift closed.

And an hour later the boys switch, Alex claiming he sleeps better next to you, while Laf and Herc roll their eyes, but comply to his request.

And this time as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help the warmth that spread in your heart, finally feeling complete.

The next week’s that passed by were filled with long lingering kisses, nearly constant cuddles, and ‘I love you’s. Your boys making sure that you felt completely loved and taken care of. And although this all made you feel immense joy, your favorite part was that you got your blissful Sundays back.

Sunday Morning (Dean Winchester)

Warnings: Dean winchester is a cuddly polar bear 

Summary: You don’t usually wake up peacefully, but today you do. 

Mornings with the Winchesters were usually short. Waking up on the road, in the same position you had been when you fell asleep minus the jacket that now covered you. Waking up to the smell of fast food and Dean’s tired lopsided smile. Waking up when Dean lasted the music or Sam decided you would accompany him on an early morning run.
But today, you woke up to silence. Sure, Dean was snoring in your ear and he was on his stomach half on top of you, but it was peaceful.
One of his arms was thrown across your stomach, one of his legs tangled with yours. His head was on the pillow next to you, his cheek pressed into the white pillowcase, and the rest of his left side was covering you.
You smiled, managing to worm an arm out from under his grip and run it through his hair.
His light snoring ceased for a moment as he burrowed closer to try and find your warmth. his head nuzzled into your neck, his hand stroking up your side and resting there.
You smiled softly, continuing to run your hand through his hair and massage his head slightly, even though it meant your arm was at an odd and uncomfortable angle.
His breath fanned your neck and you could tell that he wasn’t asleep anymore, although he had yet to pen his eyes or say anything.
“Dean,” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the peace by being too loud.
He groaned in reply.
“Guess what we have to do today?” You asked, and Dean shifted to press his face into your neck.
“What?” He mumbled unintelligibly, his voice vibrating against your soft skin.
“Absolutely nothing.” You smiled.
“Don’t jinx it,” Dean said, picking his head off of your shoulder and finally opening his tired eyes.
“Silly. Jinxes don’t exist.”
“Neither do monsters,” Dean groaned out.
You watched as Dean rolled off of you and onto his back by your side. You could finally feel your right side, and the cold bunker air hit your exposed skin.
You rolled onto your side to face him.
“Good morning,” You smiled.
He rolled onto his side, his eyes closed in the hope that he could manage to fall asleep again.
“Good morning,” he smiled back.
A hum escaped your throat as you sat up to stretch, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed.
Dean made an unintelligible noise and reached out an arm, swiping at the air to try and grab you to pull you back. You laughed when he only grabbed air, and he grumbled, covering his face with his hand in reply.
You stood above him, pressing a kiss to his temple before leaving the bed entirely and grabbing at clothing that was thrown haphazardly on the floor the night before.
You opened the door, hearing the sheets rustling behind you a you exited but not bothering to turn around.
The coffee machine was already on and brewing when you reached the kitchen. Sam sat at the counter, sipping at a smoothie and buried in a book.
“Hey, Dean?” He began, not looking up from the newspaper, “I think I found us a-“
“Case?” You finished.
Sam looked up, confused, before:
“Oh, good morning Y/n.”
You smiled and wished him a good morning also, before turning to get two mugs for coffee.
“I’m heading out for a run now. Can you tell Dean I found us a case?” Sam asked, getting up to place his empty smoothie glass in the sink.
You nodded, pouring the coffee from the kettle into the mugs.
A hand placed itself on your hip. Without spending time to think, you had spun around and sent a tight fist straight towards your attacker.
“Woah there,” Dean’s gravelly voice complained after expertly ducking your attack.
You sighed, your heart sill racing and eyes still wide, before closing your eyes and resting your forehead against Dean’s chest.
“You scared me,” you breathed out.
A chuckle vibrated through his chest, a pair of arms wrapping around your shoulders.
A kiss was pressed to your hairline, his hands grasping you closer and his scent intoxicating you.
“Scared you?” he chuckled, the vibrations of his words echoing through his chest, “darling, I’m here to protect you.“

Always Pt. 2: Run (M)

Trailer | Prologue | One | Two | Three | Four

While Jungkook is away, you make a new friend…

Originally posted by the-rap-man

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, Jimin x Reader

Genre: Killer!Jungkook, Angst, Smut

Word Count: 5,764

Content/Warnings: Smut, but nothing too graphic, drinking, lots of crying

Summary: 

You would die for him, kill for him, and everything in between.

He was as much a part of you as yourself. 

You didn’t want anyone else. 

It was always Jungkook.

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non--mercy  asked:

Widowtracer is my OTP... Can I see them do the French Kiss please? 030

yes, yes you can <3 hopefully this is similar to what you had in mind?

Puppy

Reader x Stiles Stilinski

(NOT MY GIF)

*Requested

Imagine: You go to a meeting at Scott’s house, to discuss over the new Beacon Hills’ new threat. There you bump into Peter Hale, who you deeply dislike, because he has precious information. But he makes the mistake of threatening Stiles, your boyfriend, and this get wild.

Word Count: 2252

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3

One of the great fad desserts of the 19th century, the Dobostorta, Dobos torta or ‘torte Dobosh’ was invented by the famous Hungarian confectioner Jozsef C. Dobos in 1884. Dobos owned a far-famed shop in Budapes,t that specialized in gourmet foods generally: at a time when shipping food over distance was usually unreliable, his shop routinely featured as many as sixty imported cheeses, as well as foreign wines, breads, and occasionally cakes.

The fame of the torte to which Dobos gave his name was probably at least partly due to its extravagant use of chocolate buttercream / buttercreme, at a time when most cakes were iced or filled with cooked creams, whipped creams, or custards. Dobos had brought the buttercream recipe back with him from one of his many exploratory journeys – in this case, a trip to France – and shortly thereafter introduced the cake at the National General Exhibition of Budapest in 1885, as well as featuring it in his shop. Due to all this publicity (for it became a favorite of the Emperor and Empress of Austro-Hungary), people in cities across Europe began clamoring for it: but Dobos refused to license out the recipe. Instead Dobos developed a special container in which it could be safely shipped, and “the cake with the secret recipe” soon started appearing in all the great European capitals. In fact, Dobos actually toured with the cake, personally introducing it in city after city, until the early 1900’s, when he retired.

The cake itself is straightforward to make. It involves either five or seven individually baked layers and these must never be sliced from a single cake: chocolate buttercream made with the best available chocolate: and a layer of caramel-glazed cake on top. Commercially available versions may taste nice enough, but cease to become authentic the moment there are more than five layers.

Bundle Of Joy - Part Four

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Parent!Reader

Summery: Shit gets real

Warnings: Cliffhanger (Mahaha!)

Part One, Part Two, Part Three


Perhaps it was the alcohol, but your ability to control your body and raging heartbeat completely shattered as you found yourself drowning in the colour of Bucky’s eyes. It had been too dark before and you hadn’t been paying that close attention, but now in the light of your small apartment you could see that they were gorgeously blue. Intense and unblinking in a thousand yard stare, they were the colour of the rising tide - like something straight from a child’s fairy tale - full on Prince Charming.

You’d only had a glass and a half of wine, but you couldn’t help the ditsy schoolgirl giggle that passed your lips or the way you practically draped yourself over the handsome man whom sat beside you. He seemed to have an unusual keenness for human connection, however, and didn’t mind your behaviour one bit. Instead of pushing you away or sitting by you awkwardly, Bucky unconsciously rubbed circles into your ankle as you rested your feet upon his lap, as if you had known each other all your lives.

“How long have you been living in Brooklyn?” He asked you, speaking softly as if his words could cause this safe space the two of you had created to crumble. His gaze hovered behind you, over to the half unpacked box that sat in the corner of the room, a worn old teddy bear in a dull lavender dress sitting upon it, the same flower crudely stitching into her foot.

“Not long.” You said, twisting around and throwing the teddy bear a quick glance over your shoulder. “Just moved back, actually. I went traveling for a few years and got a bit homesick.”

Bucky nodded. “It’s an interesting place to grow up.”

He didn’t miss the way your brows creased in slight confusion at his statement, but you were quick to realize what he meant. “Yes, I suppose it is a hell of a lot better than traveling between places all the time. Did you grow up here, Buck?”

“Born and raised.” He nodded, a far away look crossing his face. “I moved away for a while too. I’d love to move back, but it’s a bit too expensive now.”

“So where are you staying?”

“Manhattan with a friend.” Bucky smiled, meeting your gaze. “Childhood friend. He’s got his heart set on moving back here too.”

“That’s sweet.” You mumbled, lifting your glass to your lips.

Just as the wine touched your tongue, a loud wailing pierced through the thin wall separating the living room from the bedroom. You didn’t miss a beat before swinging your legs off of Bucky’s lap and jumping up from your seat, and neither did he.

“I can go.” He said.

“Nah, I’ve got this.” You shot down his offer, shoving your wine glass in his hand before rushing off to your daughter’s aid.

Light and quick on your feet, you practically glided across your apartment and into the bedroom, making your way over to the plain white crib beside the bed. Your daughter’s cried ceased the moment your face came into view and she laughed, as only a baby could laugh with a sweet bubbling chime as her bright and sparkling eyes found yours.

You didn’t say anything and merely smiled as she reached out of the wooden bars and took hold of your shirt, pulling at it with as much strength as she could muster without falling backwards onto her padded tush. She moved like her legs were in hinges, wobbling to and fro as she tried to keep her balance.

“She looks like you.”

An amused laugh bubbled up and passed your lips. Looking back over at Bucky, you found him leaning against the doorway, looking between you and your daughter.

“That’s a terrible cliche.” You said, a sliver of a smile on your face. Bucky smirked and wandered in, his gaze lingering over a couple framed photographs and a collection of trinkets that sat upon the vanity that he passed on the way to your side. Ordinarily, the sight of someone looking over your things would have sent you into a panic, but for some reason you were completely content. It gave you an unfamiliar feeling of warm anticipation, eager for him to get a glimpse into your everyday life.

“What’s this?” He asked, holding up a large glass jar of tiny origami stars.

You hesitated and swiped your tongue very your dry lips. “Just paper stars. Nothing special.”

He gave the jar a small shake and then set it back down. “Looks like a lot of them.”

“There’s only a hundred and fourty-nine.” You blurted out before you got stop yourself.

“What?”

You turned your attention back to your daughter, scooping her up into your arms as not to have to took at him. “One hundred and fourty-nine. That’s how many stars are in the jar.”

Normally you would have added another by this hour.

“You make them?”

You shrugged. “It’s something to do.”

Because you had your back to him, you didn’t see Bucky’s expression. Suspicion, confusion and curiosity were all present - he knew there was something you weren’t telling him, but he didn’t push it.

Clearing your throat, you turned back around, adjusting your daughter’s position on your hip as she played with the lavender dressed teddy bear you’d given her. Bucky averted his gaze from you and continued to survey your space, his fingertips grazing along everything as if he were reading Braille. He was taking it all in, taking you in.

“Would you like to hold her?’

You smiled at the way Bucky’s face lit up. He nodded and approached you and your daughter in three easy strides. He pulled off his jacket before easing her out of your hold, chuckling as she reached out for him.

“She’s so small.” Bucky marveled, dragging his eyes up to yours. Your heart hammered against your chest and you let the happiness soak right through to your bones.

But then he turned to the side, exposing the red painted star across his metal arm.

Your breath hitched and your heart dropped.

“Bucky, what is that?”

He followed your gaze and his features hardened, the smile he was wearing melting away as fast as an ice cube over a burning flame.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Nothing special.” He said, your own words echoing back to you.

But as he spoke all you could do was stare at him as if he were a radio and not a person to be interacted with. His voice circulated in your head and it took everything for your shaking knees not to buckle underneath you.

The two of you met each other’s gaze.

“Hydra.”

It was one word, yet it dripped with venom and left a nasty taste in your mouth. You felt as though all your energy had just been shoved out of your body and you began to tremble with rage. Your throat closed up with the threat of a scream, but your jaw had become tight. Fighting the impulse to whirl around and sprint out of the apartment, you tried your best to stay calm and took your daughter back into your own arms.

Your eyes stung as they remained unblinking, holding Bucky in a murderous glare. A metallic taste filled your mouth as your teeth crunched over your bottom lip with unchecked strength.

“Get out.”

Low and threatening, you voice was barely above a whisper, yet resembled that of a wild animal’s growl before striking it’s unlucky prey.

“What do you know about - ?”

“ - GET OUT!”

He was like a frightened dog. Staggered backwards, Bucky rushed out of the bedroom with you close at his heels.

You remained silent as you backed him up against the front door of your apartment. The look of mad, murderous rage in your eyes had him tripping over his own feet and fear slicing through him - he couldn’t have imagined such anger coming from you until this moment.

Bucky desperately tried to calm you down, throwing his hands up to show that he had no intention of fighting back, but that and his attempts at reasoning with you were completely futile.

“(Y/N), please - “

“NO!”

It was with that one final yell that your fist landed upon his chest with full force. Like in the movies, Bucky flew backwards and crashed through the door and into the hallway, landing painfully on the floor.

You didn’t stand around and wait to see if he was okay or would leave now that you had attacked him. Instead you swept your apartment, grabbing your purse from the kitchen counter before darting over to plain brick wall at the far end of the apartment. You hand skimmed the unpainted brinks until you came to the fourth one away from the open window. Then you turned to the side and protected your daughter as well as you could before punching your fist through it, ignoring the pain that shot up your arm and the blood that coated your knuckles.

Prying away the rubble you found what your were looking for. Reaching in and pulling it out, you took a moment to examine the red leather book, turning it in your hand and glaring down at the familiar black star branded into the front.


BUNDLE OF JOY TAGLIST:

@paranoid-borderline-insane @dance4angels @kennadance14  @fab-notfat @cassandras-musings @livasaurasrex @iamwarrenspeace @hollycornish@greek-freak101 @kindnesswins @priettierthanyou@purplekitten30 @learisa @justreadingfics @ariesberry @andaddalittlesarcasm @insanityismysanity12345 @xkaciesearlex @coffeekeyboardsss @underthenorthstar

Falling in Love Again

Summary: Yuuri becomes incredibly honest when he gets his wisdom teeth removed and Viktor is having a wonderful time. Much fluff and other sweetness.

Pairing: Viktor/Yuuri, Viktuuri

I couldn’t get this idea out of my head after watching videos of people after getting their teeth removed. I myself was a riot after getting teeth removed, but my mom thought it would make her look bad to record me. I am full of regret.

“Mr. Nikiforov?” Viktor stopped bouncing his leg and quickly stood, his heart ceasing to beat for a moment. Getting your wisdom teeth removed certainly wasn’t anything to get too worked up over, but Viktor couldn’t but worry about his darling Yuuri. “Everything went smoothly; you can come back and see him now.” He breathed a sigh of relief. The Russian didn’t hesitate, grabbing his bag and proceeding into the back with the dentist. “He’ll probably be awake within the next few minutes. I’m sure you’re already aware of this, but he may be a little… odd when he does.” Viktor, of course, already was aware and he had come prepared.

The doctor led him to a room at the end of hall and instructed him to call if anything seemed wrong to which Viktor agreed and thanked him. As the door closed, he put is bag down on the extra chair and walked around the front of the chair to where his darling sleepy beauty rest. Yuuri’s head was slumped against his shoulder; his cheeks swollen and stuffed full of cotton. Viktor could have died. He looked like a squirrel who had been just a tad over ambitious when gathering nuts. The Russian struggled to hold in his laughter; he could feel it expanding in his chest as he sat down next to Yuuri. As much as he wanted to take a picture, he knew it was much more important to first ensure the well being of his fiancé.

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2

Harry being upset with you was honestly a rarity, and it was the same situation with you towards him. The two of you were just such happy people, there was no way you’d be able to get into a serious fight without breaking into a fit of giggles at one point. However, just because you didn’t get seriously upset with each other didn’t necessarily mean you didn’t have your ups and downs. When Harry would do something irritating, (like leave his dirty towels on the floor when the hamper is literally right by the door) you’d approach him calmy and ask for him to fix the problem, awarding him with a smile and a kiss on the cheek if he got it done immediately. It was a simple and easy way to get him to pick up after himself! No harm, no foul! However, whenever you did something that irritated Harry… He’d get a little more petty. 

It was a trivial thing, really, but still! For the past couple of weeks, Harry had been blabbing about how he wanted to get into gardening. You had to admit, the idea of beautiful rose bushes and gardenia shrubs in your background during the spring time sounded like a great idea! (Minus the fact bees would probably swarm your house.) You had encouraged him to go for it, but he insisted the two of you go and start on the garden together. This was your guys’ first house, after all. Planting rose bushes in the backyard together was adorable. 

“Oh my god, I remember that! That was honestly such a dick move, I don’t even- Harry, I’m on the phone, bub.” You turned your head as you felt another tap on your shoulder before gesturing to your phone. 

“Who is it this time?” 

“Y/F/N. We’re talking about something important, don’t worry about it. Give me a second, yeah?” You waved him off, Harry’s brows knitting together in frustration. Four weeks. Four weeks he had waited to start gardening with you, and each time he approached you, you’d give him an excuse in return. It was either a ‘I’m busy right now, Harry’ or a ‘I really need to clean up the house today’ or even a ‘How about next time?’ Frankly, Harry was getting sick of your stalling - He just wanted to plant a damn shrub! 

“Y/N, you promised we could plant stuff this afternoon.” Harry huffed, reaching down and nabbing your phone from your hand. 

“What the- Harry, I told you it was important!” You snapped, getting up off the couch and grabbing your phone back. “Sorry, Y/F/N, that was just Harry. Yeah, so as I was saying…” Harry watched as you headed towards the staircase, obviously about to lock yourself in the bedroom so he couldn’t pester you anymore. 

“Give me a second, my ass.” Harry grumbled. Maybe a snack would make him feel better. He knew you and Y/F/N were close, and he knew how much you loved talking to her, but what if he wanted some Y/N time too??

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later.” It had been about twenty more minutes of you chit chatting to Y/F/N, and in those twenty minutes, you began to feel guilt bubbling up inside of you. You did promise Harry you’d spend some time with him today, and instead of planting daisies with him like he wanted, you snapped at him and came up to hide in the bedroom. In all honesty, you should’ve been taking advantage of the fact that Harry was finally home for the first time in forever. In a shorter version: You fucked up. 

Harry was in the middle of cursing and muttering things to himself as he picked at your snack bowl filled to the brim with m&m’s. He knew you liked grabbing a handful of them whenever you passed by, but he also knew you would only eat the green m&m’s. Sure, they were all the same flavour, but for some reason you could only eat the green ones. So here he was, picking out all the green m&m’s as quickly as possible and tucking them into his shirt pocket. 

“Hey, bub.” Harry glanced up as he heard your voice, his movements ceasing for a moment as he wondered to himself if you knew what he was doing. 

“Mm.” Harry hummed in return, popping an m&m into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. 

“Sorry about snapping at you. I didn’t mean to.” You apololgized, taking a step closer and sitting yourself down across from him. “You know how I get when Y/F/N calls me with some gossip. We can get started on planting things now!” 

“Whatever.” Harry shrugged, trying his best to fight a smile when you looked into the bowl and began to sort through the m&m’s to find a green one. “Gardening is stupi-” 

“Did you wanna get started on the rose bushes? I already brought all your tools out from the shed,” You spoke, furrowing your brows in confusion as you kept your eyes on the bowl. Had you eaten all the green ones? It was obvious you weren’t listening to Harry because all you could focus on was: Where the hell are my green m&m’s? “And I brought an old shirt of yours that you can change into, so you don’t have to worry about getting the shirt you’re wearing now dirty. I’ll make some pink lemonade for us later. It’s a scorcher outside today!” 

“…You brought all the tools out?” 

“Mhm.” 

“And you’re gonna make lemonade later?” 

Pink lemonade. Your favourite!” You smiled, looking up at your boyfriend before looking back down at the bowl. “Remind me later to pick up some more m&m’s later. I could have sworn there were still plenty of green ones left.” You stuck your bottom lip out in a pout. 

“No, you were right about that.” Harry cleared his throat, reaching into his shirt pocket before opening his fist, more than ten m&m’s clattering onto the counter. You blinked down at the m&m’s before looking up at a sheepish looking Harry. 

“…Alright, I admit I deserved that.” 

+

gifs aren’t mine!

Daddy Doesn’t Have to Know - Part 5

Title: Daddy Doesn’t Have to Know - Part 5

Characters: Negan x You/Reader

Synopsis: Negan takes you on a trip you’ll never forget.

Warnings: NSFW, really really NSFW

Original Idea by: @babyblues915

Note: Back with some smutty goodness! I didn’t proofread this (I rarely proofread my fics ‘cause I’m too excited to post them anyway) so I’m not sure if it’s good enough to make it up for the past SFW chapter lol. I honestly feel like this one’s a bit sloppy and all over the place but I’m hoping y’all still enjoy!

Daddy Doesn’t Have to Know Masterlist

“Bet your daddy’s worried as fuck, huh?”

Negan’s grin didn’t falter as he watched you slip into the front seat of his truck. He looked at Rick’s reflection through the rearview mirror of the vehicle and chuckled again. Rick’s face was full of mixed emotions— concern, anger, regret— they were all evident in his eyes. Even from afar, Negan could see it clearly. You sighed and looked out the window as Negan began to drive.

“He thinks you’re gonna kill me and I wouldn’t blame him for that.” You said.

Negan snickered and placed a hand on your thigh while his other remained on the steering wheel, “The only shit I’ll be killing is that sweet ass pussy of yours.”

You scoffed and kept quiet until Negan stated something that irked you.

“Or maybe your father if he doesn’t get his shit together.”

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Ocean Eyes

Based on this song.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: MAJOR ANGST!

Originally posted by thesilentages

I’ve been watching you
For some time
Can’t stop staring at those ocean eyes

Infatuation was synonymous with stupidity for you, a girl who didn’t believe in the magic of fairy tales. Fate did not drive people to love, it drove them to greatness; a conduit for the ambitious to make sense of the talents guarded by self-doubt and reservation. You liked to think that no matter what happened, a higher power would be looking after you, centring you to the right course, sending winds to fill your sails along the correct path. If they were Gods, angelic creatures, or a simple act of nature, they did not bother themselves with the entangling of hearts. Love wasn’t as important as true purpose, and your purpose was to be great. You had set your sights high, expectations low. After all, the Gods were anything but fair.

You had excepted this understanding of the world, of what would come and how it was influenced. And then he had to come along, untangling every red string, unravelling the complex map until it was just a heap of yarn. He enticed you, enveloping your thoughts no matter how hard you tried to shut him out. Even in sleep, when darkness would encapsulate your mind, the oceans would burst through with ferocity, demanding to be felt, forcing you under the waves. You were drowning, and falling at the same time. A nightmare disguised as a dream.

You were the shadows, the eyes lurking from the back of the room. The steady thrum of an evening storm, the eventual fade of an echo. He had pulled you into the harsh light, holding your hands so you couldn’t cover your eyes. He had turned your thunder into lightning, your echo into a scream. And he had tugged you under, forcing you to paddle upwards, terrified and choking for air. Then once you’d break the surface, another wave would throw you back into the depths. He made you feel unpredictable and irrational, made you question everything you thought you were.

But the ocean could be calm too. For every wild storm, there were still days. Days where he’d send you a smile, or call your name softly, beckoning you to join him in the shallow, innocent waters.

That’s how he managed to always catch you in a riptide.

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evgeni malkin // taking your son to practice

warnings: none

who: geno x reader

premise: geno decides to take your son to practice with him

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The first sign that something was up was the silence. In your house, with a four year old and a husband as loud as yours, silence was as rare as Sidney Crosby skipping practice: it never happened. Still, you managed to collect your nerves and allow yourself to look around before jumping to any conclusions. You figured Geno was already at practice, but you were surprised that your son hadn’t already woken you up to eat cheerios and watch cartoons.

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Here I inscribe a stone

There is a town in the South of Brazil, atop mountains once volcanoes within which an ancient god-giant lies buried. Near it, Tibetan Buddhist monks built their first Brazilian temple, arguing that the land itself was magical upon its purchase with cash.

And indeed it has been the setting for miracles that changed the course of lives. The witnessing of spirits, the pure power in the air which makes even the simplest of magical operations be remarkable. A day prior to this ritual, by the same banks I would still visit, a white horse appeared from the woods to bear witness to my wife’s family casting of her mother’s ashes. Here, I travelled to bring gifts gained since the last visit, and to introduce a companion to this land where significant strides were made.

I stroll to a high point by the shoreline of an artificial lake, allowing me to oversee it almost entirely. The sun cuts through the clouds as I sit down on a flat basalt rock conspicuously marked by three adjoined bird bones. I chant the call of the Red Dragon and use the secret word of the house, and as it cuts crisply and painfully through my body, in another breath I chant the songs of a different tradition naming those who came before me. A dark figure inhumanly measuring up to the size of a tall tree appears at the other side of the shore and it watches what I do. It feels as if my field of vision sees a much smaller version of everything in front of me and gravity ceases to exist for a moment.

I tell all to heed me and declare I will return to fulfil my intent in a day’s time. I stumble back to the cabin where I’m staying with some difficulty. The next day, I walk to a nearby spot mostly covered by sparse bushes, and here I inscribe a stone with the shield of Bones. I trace a spiral with a stick and place it at the centre as I chant songs in his name. My breath feels like fire as the Lady of Catacombs manifests. I sense her awe as I look around with her sharing my eyes.

Under the stone, I place a token for binding the target of a ritual which began at the opposite side of the planet and now spans three places of power in three different countries. As the wind picks up and the temperature drops, the stars become visible and a sense of terror takes over, a glimpse at the possibility of losing oneself in the ruse of those who would have me remain blind to their subterfuge, now dispelled by the mere gaze of stronger, more virtuous allies. I request what I need and leave other tokens so that my spirits can return here on their own.

I walk back as I remember the words of one other giant, that this is all yet so poorly understood, yet there is comfort in the thought. A crisis was, after all, averted.

anonymous asked:

Could you post the first time Jamie and Claire made love and the last time.... The first intimate non-sexual moment and the last....

He didn’t speak further, but relaxed a bit under my hands when he realized that it wasn’t going to hurt. I felt an odd sense of intimacy with this young Scottish stranger, due in part, I thought, to the dreadful story he had just told me, and in part to our long ride through the dark, pressed together in drowsy silence. I had not slept with many men other than my husband, but I had noticed before that to sleep, actually sleep with someone did give this sense of intimacy, as though your dreams had flowed out of you to mingle with his and fold you both in a blanket of unconscious knowing. A throwback of some kind, I thought. In older, more primitive times (like these? asked another part of my mind), it was an act of trust to sleep in the presence of another person. If the trust was mutual, simple sleep could bring you closer together than the joining of bodies.

The strapping finished, I helped him on with the rough linen shirt, easing it over the bad shoulder. He stood up to tuck it one-handed into his kilt, and smiled down at me.

“I thank ye, Claire. You’ve a good touch.” His hand reached out as though to touch my face, but he seemed to think better of it; the hand wavered and dropped to his side. Apparently he had felt that odd surge of intimacy too. I looked hastily away, flipping a hand in a think-nothing-of-it gesture.

My gaze traveled around the room, taking in the smoke-blacked fireplace, the narrow, unglazed windows, and the solid oak furnishings. No electrical fittings. No carpeting. No shiny brass knobs on the bedstead.

It looked, in fact, like an eighteenth-century castle. But what about Frank? The man I had met in the wood looked disturbingly like him, but Jamie’s description of Captain Randall was completely foreign to everything I knew about my gentle, peace-loving husband. But then, if it were true—and I was beginning to admit, even to myself, that it might be—then he could in fact be almost anything. A man I knew only from a genealogical chart was not necessarily bound to resemble his descendants in conduct.

But it was Frank himself I was concerned with at the moment. If I was, in fact, in the eighteenth century, where was he? What would he do when I failed to return to Mrs. Baird’s? Would I ever see him again? Thinking about Frank was the last straw. Since the moment I stepped into the rock and ordinary life ceased to exist, I had been assaulted, threatened, kidnapped and jostled. I had not eaten or slept properly for more than twenty-four hours. I tried to control myself, but my lip wobbled and my eyes filled in spite of myself.

I turned to the fire to hide my face, but too late. Jamie took my hand, asking in a gentle voice what was wrong. The firelight glinted on my gold wedding band, and I began to sniffle in earnest.

“Oh, I’ll…I’ll be all right, it’s all right, really, it’s…just my…my husband…I don’t—“Ah lass, are ye widowed, then?” His voice was so full of sympathetic concern that I lost control entirely.

“No…yes…I mean, I don’t…yes, I suppose I am!” Overcome with emotion and tiredness, I collapsed against him, sobbing hysterically.

The lad had nice feelings. Instead of calling for help or retreating in confusion, he sat down, gathered me firmly onto his lap with his good arm and sat rocking me gently, muttering soft Gaelic in my ear and smoothing my hair with one hand. I wept bitterly, surrendering momentarily to my fear and heartbroken confusion, but slowly I began to quiet a bit, as Jamie stroked my neck and back, offering me the comfort of his broad, warm chest. My sobs lessened and I began to calm myself, leaning tiredly into the curve of his shoulder. No wonder he was so good with horses, I thought blearily, feeling his fingers rubbing gently behind my ears, listening to the soothing, incomprehensible speech. If I were a horse, I’d let him ride me anywhere.

This absurd thought coincided unfortunately with my dawning realization that the young man was not completely exhausted after all. In fact, it was becoming embarrassingly obvious to both of us. I coughed and cleared my throat, wiping my eyes with my sleeve as I slid off his lap.

“I’m so sorry…that is, I mean, thank you for…but I…” I was babbling, backing away from him with my face flaming. He was a bit flushed, too, but not disconcerted. He reached for my hand and pulled me back. Careful not to touch me otherwise, he put a hand under my chin and forced my head up to face him.

“Ye need not be scairt of me,” he said softly. “Nor of anyone here, so long as I’m with ye.” He let go and turned to the fire.

Originally posted by outlanderamerica


“I wish you hadn’t felt you had to do it,” I said quietly.
He didn’t reply for a moment but pursed his lips as he squatted and picked up a few stray nails. “When we wed—” he said, not looking at me. “When we wed, I said to ye that I gave ye the protection of my name, my clan—and my body.” He stood up then and looked down at me, serious. “Do ye tell me now that ye no longer want that?”
“I—no,” I said abruptly. “I just—I wish you hadn’t killed him, that’s all. I’d—managed to forgive him. It wasn’t an easy thing to do, but I did it. Not permanently, but I thought I could do it permanently, sooner or later.”
His mouth twitched a little.
“And if ye could forgive him, he needn’t die, ye’re saying? That’s like a judge lettin’ a murderer go free, because his victim’s family forgave him. Or an enemy soldier sent off wi’ all his weapons.”
“I am not a state at war, and you are not my army!”
He began to speak, then stopped short, searching my face, his eyes intent.
“Am I not?” he said quietly.
I opened my mouth to reply but found I couldn’t. The birds had come back, and a gang of house finches chittered at the foot of a big fir that grew at the side of the clearing.
“You are,” I said reluctantly, and, standing up, wrapped my arms around him. He was warm from his work, and the scars on his back were fine as threads under my fingers. “I wish you didn’t have to be.”
“Aye, well,” he said, and held me close. After a bit, we walked hand in hand to the biggest pile of barked timber and sat down. I could feel him thinking but was content to wait until he had formed what he wanted to say. It didn’t take him long. He turned to me and took my hands, formal as a man about to say his wedding vows.
“Ye lost your parents young mo nighean donn, and wandered about the world, rootless. Ye loved Frank”—his mouth compressed for an instant, but I thought he was unconscious of it—“and of course ye love Brianna and Roger Mac and the weans … but, Sassenach—I am the true home of your heart, and I know that.”

He lifted my hands to his mouth and kissed my upturned palms, one and then the other, his breath warm and his beard stubble soft on my fingers.

“I have loved others, and I do love many, Sassenach—but you alone hold all my heart, whole in your hands,” he said softly. “And you know that.”


If it must be sometime, it may as well be now, I thought, and deliberately ran my hands up the length of his thighs, hard and lean under his kilt. Though by this time I knew perfectly well what most Scotsmen wore beneath their kilts—nothing—it was still something of a shock to find only Jamie. 

He lifted me to my feet then, and bent his head to kiss me. It went on a long while, and his hands roamed downward, finding the fastening of my petticoat. It fell to the floor in a billow of starched flounces, leaving me in my chemise. “Where did you learn to kiss like that?” I said, a little breathless. 

He grinned and pulled me close again. “I said I was a virgin, not a monk,” he said, kissing me again. “If I find I need guidance, I’ll ask.” 

He pressed me firmly to him, and I could feel that he was more than ready to get on with the business at hand. With some surprise, I realized that I was ready too. In fact, whether it was the result of the late hour, the wine, his own attractiveness, or simple deprivation I wanted him quite badly.

I pulled his shirt loose at the waist and ran my hands up over his chest, circling his nipples with my thumbs. They grew hard in a second, and he crushed me suddenly against his chest. “Oof!” I said, struggling for breath. He let go, apologizing. 

“No, don’t worry; kiss me again.” He did, this time slipping the straps of the chemise down over my shoulders. He drew back slightly, cupping my breasts and rubbing my nipples as I had done his. I fumbled with the buckle that held his kilt; his fingers guided mine and the clasp sprang free. Suddenly he lifted me in his arms and sat down on the bed, holding me on his lap. He spoke a little hoarsely. 

“Tell me if I’m too rough, or tell me to stop altogether, if ye wish. Anytime until we are joined; I dinna think I can stop after that.” In answer, I put my hands behind his neck and pulled him down on top of me. I guided him to the slippery cleft between my legs. 

“Holy God,” said James Fraser, who never took the name of his Lord in vain. 

“Don’t stop now,“ I said.

Originally posted by youwerethereforme


“I dinna mean to interrupt ye, Sassenach,” he whispered in my ear. “But would ye like a bit of help wi’ that?” 

“Um,” I said rather faintly. “Ah … what did you have in mind?” In answer, the tip of his tongue darted into my ear, and I let out a small shriek. He snorted with amusement and cupped his hand between my legs, dislodging my own fingers, which had gone rather limp. One large finger stroked me delicately, and I arched my back. 

“Ooh, ye’re well started, then,” he murmured. “Ye’re slick and briny as an oyster, Sassenach. Ye hadna finished yet, though?”

 “No, I—how long were you listening?” 

“Oh, long enough,” he assured me, and, ceasing operations for a moment, took hold of my disengaged hand and folded it firmly round a very enthusiastic bit of his own anatomy. “Mmm?” 

“Oh,” I said. “Well …” My legs had taken stock of the situation much more quickly than my mind had, and so had he. He lowered his head and kissed me in the dark with a soft, eager thoroughness, then pulled his mouth away long enough to ask, “How do elephants make love?” 

Fortunately, he didn’t wait for an answer, as I hadn’t got one. He rolled over me and slid home in the same movement, and the universe shrank suddenly to a single vivid point. A few minutes later, we lay under the blazing stars, quilt thrown off and hearts thumping slowly back to normal. 

“Did you know,” I said, “that your heart actually does stop for a moment at the point of climax? That’s why your heartbeat is slow for a minute or two after; the sympathetic nervous system has fired all its synapses, leaving the parasympathetic to run your heart, and the parasympathetic decreases heart rate.” 

“I noticed it stopped,” he assured me. “Didna really care why, as long as it started again.” He put his arms over his head and stretched luxuriously, enjoying the cool air on his skin. “Actually, I never cared whether it started again, either.” 

“There’s a man for you,” I remarked tolerantly. “No forethought.”

The Raid (Dean x Reader)

So here it is. Nothing special, just a lot of my thoughts on season 12 episode 14 put into what the reader tells Mary with a little bit of fluffy cuteness at the end. 

Happy Reading!

Words: 3172

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: None

Excerpt: “Then why—”

“Because he’s not thinking rationally,” you said.  “All Dean knows is that you weren’t there. Does it really matter why? And now he’s got you back, and, because he’s the ultimate family man, he thinks that everything is going to be okay. John isn’t here, but you are, and that’s good enough for him because now he doesn’t have to do it on his own. And then you go and do something like this.  You tell me why he’s mad.”

Originally posted by justjensenanddean

Originally posted by neededtofrolic

Your name: submit What is this?

Mary looked as if she was backed against a wall.  If you were being honest, you thought that maybe she deserved it.  Maybe she deserved whatever Dean said to her.

“I’m doing this for you,” she said in her ‘I’m your mother’ voice. “I’m playing three decades of catch-up here.”

Dean shook his head, shoulders set and jaw clenched. “And we’re not? How do you think this has been for us? We’re your sons, and you’ve been gone. Our whole lives, you’ve been gone.”

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The Girl in the Log

I always hated visiting my grandpa’s old cabin. That might make me seem spoiled or ungrateful. What kid doesn’t enjoy seeing her grandpa? Especially considering he was the only grandparent I had ever known. Both of my mom’s parents were killed in a car accident before I was born, and my dad’s mom walked out on him when he was very young. He still doesn’t know where she is or if she’s even alive. So that only leaves my paternal grandfather. My parents desperately wanted me to have a good relationship with him. My dad insisted that, although Grandpa was stern and quiet, he really did love me. He just didn’t know how to express it. I figured that was probably true, but it didn’t change the fact that trips to his house were filled with idle hours watching television and reading while he worked during the day, followed by awkwardly silent dinners in the evenings. I rarely saw him, and he seldom spoke in any loving way. He just kept a wary eye on me, like he was waiting for me to break something of his or talk out of line.

Still, my parents insisted on sending me to spend a week with him every summer since I was ten- old enough to look after myself for the day. I had visited his isolated cabin in the woods several times before with my parents, but this would be the first time I stayed overnight by myself.

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