drown out of your mind

You're the one (G.D)

A/N: I combined two requests btw. AND YES I KNOW I TOOK FOREVER. THIS IS A LONG ASS IMAGINE SO BE READY. Oh yeah Idk how to write childbirth, so if it’s not accurate..sorry. Lol anywaysss hope you enjoy (ITALICIZED PARGRAPH IS A FLASH BACK)

Requests: “Okay. So I was thinking what if we had a Grayson imagine where the reader had been best friends with them both forever. She gets with Ethan and she gets pregnant but Ethan dumps her and runs away. She’s left with massive anxiety and depression but Grayson helps build her back up and raises the kid as his own and they end up having loved each other forever.”

“Hey girl, hey. Can you do an imagine where Y/N and Grayson get home from the hospital with their baby girl, and that night, Grayson won’t sleep and he’s just kinda sitting there because he wants to protect the baby and he’s nervous something will happen to her? Make sense? Yes no? ilysmmmm 💕🖤❤”

Word count: 12,500 +

Warnings: Cusses, Birth, and this is extremely long so yeah :) OH YEAH LOTS OF TIME SKIPS SO PAY ATTENTION :D

Originally posted by loveviral




“Y/N..you have to get up.” Grayson murmured as he poked your leg through the duvet draped across your body. “No. Leave me here to wallow alone in my own sorrow.” You retorted, however your words were muffled by the pillow that your tear stained face was shoved up against. Grayson seemed to understand what you were saying, but he wasn’t having it. “Get up, it’s not healthy for you, or the baby.” He reasoned and poked your leg once again. Becoming frustrated, you kicked out a leg at him and groaned into your pillow. He caught your ankle in one of his hands and you squealed. “Gray! Let me go!” You lifted your head up to look back at him. He had a devilish, but cute smirk plastered onto his face as he pulled your foot up towards his mouth. Your lips formed an “O” shape and you let out a tiny gasp. “You wouldn’t..” You whispered as Grayson cocked an eyebrow, “Oh, I would. Unless you get your lazy ass up and off the bed.”
“Fine! Fine! Just don’t lick my foot, that’s gross. Do you have a foot fetish or something?” You said as he dropped your foot, letting it softly bounce onto the bed. “No but Eth..sorry.” Grayson trailed off as your eyes darted towards the ground. “It’s fine..its been three months, Gray..I should be over it.”

“But you’re not.”

“I know.” You said, your voice cracking just the slightest bit. Grayson looked at you, his look said it all. Sympathy and pain, his eyes wrinkled just a little because he was frowning, his lips curved downwards a bit. He had bags under his eyes, he hadn’t gotten much sleep and that was partially your fault. Okay, it was all your fault.

Being pregnant was horrible, you were constantly throwing up or just feeling crappy throughout the entire day. So, when you and Grayson would fall asleep, you would always creep into his bedroom complaining about headaches or stomach pains. Or, he’d have to run to the bathroom to help hold your hair up.
So, he eventually ended up moving into your bedroom, it made things much easier but he still lost sleep. Maybe more since you kept tossing and turning a lot.

Grayson walked over to your side of the bed and bent down to your level, he lifted up a hand and softly caressed your jaw and cheek. He used his thumb to push away the stray strands of hair as your head fell against his palm, so he cupped your face. “Time heals everything.” He whispered. “Well time is taking an awfully long time to do so, Grayson.” You muttered as Grayson leaned forward. His lips made soft contact with your forehead and your eyes fluttered shut at the relieving feeling. His lips lingered for a few seconds before he pulled away. “Just trust me.” He mumbled and stood up. You sighed and looked down at your growing stomach. It wasn’t very big, you were able to cover it with some of Grayson’s T-shirts and his baggy sweatshirts, but you knew you’d grow to be the size of a whale, not being able to fit into anything. The thought made you frown, you’d have to work out a lot more often to lose all the weight and Grayson would consistently have to remind you that you weren’t fat, it was just the baby. Of course you being you, you wouldn’t listen to him.
Delicately, you pressed your cold palm against your belly and sighed.

A tiny human was growing inside of you, and it didn’t have a father…
Well it did..but he didn’t want either of you.

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I AM SO INTO THIS SHIT YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

I tried to make them kinda different, but in the end they still wound up pretty similar, Please Forgive.

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Magic

Read this to yourself. Read it silently.
Don’t move your lips. Don’t make a sound.
Listen to yourself. Listen without hearing anything.
What a wonderfully weird thing, huh?


NOW MAKE THIS PART LOUD!
SCREAM IT IN YOUR MIND!
DROWN EVERYTHING OUT!
Now, hear a whisper. A tiny whisper.


Now, read this next line with your best crotchety-old-man voice:
“Hello there, sonny. Does your town have a post office?”
Awesome! Who was that? Whose voice was that?
It sure wasn’t yours!


How do you do that?
How?!
Must be magic.

—  Bo Burnham, Egghead
Pretty Girl

Request: Can you write something where to reader can’t sleep so Peter is there and gives cuddles, please? because I too can’t sleep and want cuddles

Pairing: Peter Parker + Reader

Warnings: None! Unless you count fluff. Then, fluff!!!!!

Notes: This took forever school makes me so busy I’m so sorry 


“You promise you’ll get some sleep?” Peter had made you promise him about four times as he stood at the door. You had been studying all day today for a big physics exam you both had – you taking the study session much more seriously than Peter. He helped you to the best of his ability, and it wasn’t like you were dense when it came to the subject either, you just really didn’t want to fail.

Peter had been badgering you for the past two hours to go to bed, time already nearing to about ten at night. Peter kept assuring you that the test wasn’t until the following Monday, and it was only Thursday. You knew he would help you plenty if you needed it, but your anxiety got the best of you.

You rolled your eyes at your worried-for-nothing boyfriend and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into you in a tight embrace. “I promise, Peter. Now hurry and get home before it gets later.”

He pulled away only to place a gentle kiss on your lips. When he went to pull away you pulled him into one more, one of your hands softly carding through his hair as his grip tightened on your waist. When you finally pulled away you noticed he had a dopey smile on his face, causing you to mimic his. “Well, that’s what I call a goodnight kiss.”

You laughed softly before shoving him out of your door completely, “Go!” He laughed before throwing his arms up in surrender, slowly backing out into the empty hallway. As he rounded the stairs you shouted, “Text me when you get home!” He looked up to give you a questioning glance. “You know, so I know you got home okay.” You could feel your cheeks burn as he laughed a little. Even though he was everyone’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, you couldn’t help but feel worried whenever he wandered the streets alone at night.

“I will, I promise. Bye babe!”

You smiled as he disappeared from your sight, shutting your door and locking it before heading to your room.


You sighed for about the seventh time that night. You turned to check the time on your phone: 12:56 p.m. Your anxiety had heightened, and in result it denied you your sleep, though you desperately craved it. Peter had texted you twenty-three minutes after he left telling you he got home and then telling you one more time to go to sleep. Since your anxiety was at a high, you felt your sense of hearing heighten as well. You heard every slight creek or scratch against your door and windows. Being home alone hadn’t help settle you either. You attempted to listen to your music in attempt to drown out the sounds but that only made your anxiety worse, your mind begging you to pull the headphones out in fear that you couldn’t hear what was happening outside of them.
You sighed for the eighth time before picking up your phone and hesitantly calling Peter.

“Hello? (Y/N)? What’s wrong, why aren’t you asleep?” You smiled through the receiver, hearing how his drowsiness disappeared with each question and how concern replaced it.

“Peter, I’m sorry to bother you. I know it’s late but I can’t sleep-.”

“Why are you apologizing? Don’t apologize, baby. What’s wrong?”

Your cheeks burned a little, like they always did whenever Peter used a pet name for you, he usually didn’t because he was rather timid in the relationship. “I don’t know, my anxiety is just bad, and I guess I’m a little scared to be here alone.”

It was quiet on the other end, you could only hear Peter’s hushed but quickened breathing, it wasn’t until you heard a small grunt that you spoke again. “Peter?”

“Hang on, baby. I’ll be there in fifteen.” And then the line went dead.


“You didn’t have to come over, Peter.” Your voice was shy, but Peter knew you had wanted him to come over, regardless of your arguing.

“I know, but I wanted to. You being scared is my excuse for cuddling with my pretty girl.” Both yours and Peter’s face flushed at the new pet name, you hoping he’d keep it.

“Well, thank you.” You laid back in bed when you returned to your room, patting the spot next to you. Peter climbed in and immediately brought you into his chest. His left arm was wrapped around your shoulders, allowing your head to rest on his chest, and his right hand came up to rake his fingers through your hair, playing with the ends slightly.

“Anything for you, babe.” His voice dropped down to a whisper, causing you to move your head up slightly to look at his face. He smiled softly at you, his hand coming down to cup your cheek. You leaned up slightly as he brought himself down to you, kissing you. It wasn’t as softly as he kissed you before he left earlier, but it wasn’t rushed either. It was a tired but passionate kiss. You closed your eyes but instead of seeing pitch black you saw nothing but color. Your hands clenched his shirt in your hands, pulling him closer to you. You hummed in the kiss, prompting Peter to shift slightly, pulling you under himself as he hovered over you.  He pulled away and looked down at you, breathing heavily. As he smiled at you, you couldn’t help the words that came out almost instantly.

“I love you, Peter.”

His eyebrows raised as his eyes widened just the slightest. You smiled at him softly, bringing your hands up to his face, “I love you so much. I’m so lucky to have you. I’m so, so lucky, Peter Parker.”

And it took him hearing his name to pull him out of his trance, registering that this, in fact, wasn’t a dream. His smile returned as he laid back down beside you, his arms coming back to pull you against him. You both returned to your comfortable positions with his arm around your shoulder and in your hair while your head rested on his chest. And it was then, when you both had gotten settled and your breathing patterns were normal, that Peter spoke up.

“I love you, too,” you felt his lips on your forehead. “And I am so lucky to love you, pretty girl.”

Life’s But a Walking Shadow

ao3 | ff.net

Day 3: Monsters

It loosely fits, so. Yeah. This is for @caramelmachete, who asked for some Dick and Wally bromance. Thanks for donating!!!

Summary: The puzzle pieces aren’t fitting. Dick doesn’t know what’s happening. But one thing that he does know is that he has to get to Bruce. He has to.


Dick doesn’t know where he is.

Well, that’s not completely true. He’s sitting in the middle of the sidewalk, somewhere in the middle of Gotham. There’s not a lot of people, but the weak sun is still occasionally breaking through the clouds, so Dick thinks it must be before rush hour. The people around him give him a wide berth, but Dick hardly notices. He keeps getting distracted by the shadows in the corner of his eye. He could have sworn he saw—

No. Batman doesn’t come out during the day. Not unless there’s an emergency. And Dick can’t think of anything that’d be classified an emergency when it seems so calm. Actually, Dick’s having trouble thinking at all.

But he knows for sure that it’s not Batman. Can’t be. He wouldn’t be scared of it if it was, right?

There’s—something. Something he’s supposed to remember. Something to do with Bruce. He thinks that maybe he should find Bruce. Or call him. Maybe it’ll help him remember, think. He’s supposed to tell Bruce about—about—

Something to do with water. Other than that, he can’t grasp it. He can’t make his thoughts form anything coherent.

There’s another—it’s not a flash. It’s more a growing embodiment of fear and darkness on the edge of his vision, creating a dark mass that catches his attention. But when he turns his head to look at it, it’s gone. Nothing there. Poof.

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Forever Young - part one -

Summary- When the reader falls asleep after a witch hunt, she awakes with just a minor change.

Characters- Sam x Sister!reader, Dean x Sister!reader, Cas x Platonic!reader.

Warnings-

A/N- I don’t know how long part two will take, hopefully not too long!

Y/A MEANS YOUR AGE


You and your brothers were driving back home after a hunt, it was witch, she had been killing people, sacrificing their souls to an ancient book that would slowly make her more powerful, she had also been torturing these innocent souls.

All three of you stumbled tiredly into the bunker, your heads dizzy and eyes aching of tiredness, the boys collapsed onto two chairs at the library whereas you swayed towards your bedroom, “good night, guys” you called sleepily behind you, they called back but it was drown out by your bedroom door closing.

You buried yourself under the covers, your mind going dark as soon as your head hit the pillow.

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Drabble Part 2/5

A/N: It’s so strange… I’ll be writing something super sad one second, then something super fluffy the next. Drabbles are weird. XD

Words: 3440


11. (Arno Dorian)

It was a grueling truth, the reality that you may very well die. You looked down at your crimson stained hands, the heat of the thick liquid contrasting with your rapidly cooling body. Death was holding you in its crushing grip, dragging you down, and somehow you were still holding on. Because of him, you realized. You were holding on for Arno.

“Just a little while longer.” He rasped, his feet heavy against the stone rooftop as he shifted you uncomfortably in his arms. Every movement had you crying out, jolting the fiery pain to life. If it wasn’t for the startling fear in Arno’s eyes, you were positive you would’ve already been amongst the dead. But you couldn’t leave him. Your head lolled against his chest, eyelids heavy as you began drifting off. “No,” Arno’s shout startled you back into semi-consciousness. “I’m not losing you today, you hear me?” A hum left your parted lips as you held onto him tightly. Just a little bit longer… “Please,” he begged, the wind whipping against your face as he sprinted even faster, pushing himself to the max. “Don’t leave me like this.”

“Arno,” you choked, your vision swimming. You just needed to hold on… Just… His worried voice was drowned out by the blood rushing around your mind, your heart slowing in your chest. Maybe if you just closed your eyes…


12. (Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad)

“Wait,” he growled, pulling you back as you jumped. You fell into his hard body, both of you hitting the ground painfully.

“What?” You seethed as quietly as you could, your eyes flickering between him and your target as you stood back on your feet, dusting yourself off.

“You can not go yet.” He explained as if it made total sense to pull you back from the man who was in perfect position for your blade.

“I need to go,” you argued, pointing down at your target. “If he moves, it will be too hard to find another place to strike. Now is the perfect opportunity.”

“Have you learned nothing?” He hissed, hand tight on your white robes. “What would you do after you had taken his life?”

“I would run there.” You pointed to the stacked boxes that stopped about halfway to the top of a nearby building. “Then I would wait in the hay cart on the other side of the building. After I can scale that building and move along the rooftops silently and efficiently.” You stated dryly, knowing that there was nothing for him to argue. Unfortunately, he was stubborn.

“And what if you get caught by them?” He gestured to two rather large guards waiting by the exit of the alley you were in. “You could not fight them off.” Ouch.

“Are you questioning my ability, Altaïr?” Your voice was laced with annoyance, his haughty tone doing nothing to quell your anger. You’d trained for the majority of your life and you were confident in your abilities.

“That is not what I meant.” He backtracked, hands held up in surrender. “I only mean that you could get injured or worse.”

“That’s part of being an Assassin.” You retorted, watching as his jaw tensed beneath the shadow of his hood.

“Just,” he paused, almost as if he didn’t think he should finish, “be careful.” Half of your mouth tilted up in a smile, a hand pulling your hood down to obscure your face.

“I always am.”


13. (Ezio Auditore)

You sighed heavily into the shining, noon sky. Rome was bustling below, the yells of merchants and buyers alike ringing throughout the heat of day. Pulling both knees to your chest, you watched as men and women prepared for the event to come. You really didn’t want to go to this ball, but your father hadn’t given you much of a choice. There was a sudden change in the atmosphere; where the sun had once shone, a shadow now cast over.

“Ezio,” you greeted stiffly, not bothering to look up at the Assassin.

“What are you doing up here?” He asked, taking a seat next to you. You sent a half smile in his direction, your hands playing with your white robes.

“I needed time to think.”

“For the ball,” Ezio nodded, his muscles tensing. “What happened to your date?” His voice was bitter, a scowl on his scarred lips. That gave you pause, your lips turning up in realization.

“You’re jealous!” You laughed, his scowl deepening at your accusation.

“I am not.” He argued. Continuing to chuckle, you stood up with your hands on your hips.

“You, Ezio Auditore, are jeal-” Your sentence was cut off with a squeak as your back hit the stone tiles roughly, wide eyes looking up to Ezio.

“I am not jealous.” His eyes were like fire, burning every bit of your body they went over. He jerked you up, dropping his mouth against yours vigorously. You moaned against the heat of him, his tongue thrusting in between your lips at the movement. Everything suddenly felt too hot, his hands roaming all over your body with determined curiosity. When he finally felt satisfied, he stood up, leaving you lying on the ground and breathing heavily. You followed his movements a moment afterwards, watching him curiously. He hadn’t moved, instead observing you as his fingers slid along his lips, almost as if just realizing what he’d done. You wanted him, needed him to repeat his actions.

“Jealous,” you breathed, laughing as you took off across the rooftop. You didn’t even have to hear his steps heavy against the stone to know he was following.


14. (Shay Cormac)

The hand on your hip wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn’t the one you wanted. The blue eyes shining beneath the lights, crinkled up as he laughed, were not the ones you wished to stare into. The crisp accent that sounded whenever he spoke wasn’t the one you needed to hear. But it didn’t matter. Shay wasn’t there, and even if he was, he would never think of you the same way you thought of him. He was too guarded, too untrusting to allow you that close to him. A soft groan left your parted lips as you tried to tune into the conversation once again. He was talking about trading stuff, at least you thought he was. He could also be talking about his family. You hadn’t the slightest, and honestly, you couldn’t care less. You were scanning the area, your eyes attempting to adjust to the overly bright lights. They really did try too hard at these things. That was when you spotted the dark gaze, looking to you with more intensity than you’d ever seen before. You wanted to call to Shay, but you were cut off before you could start by lips upon your own. It took you by surprise, prompting you to stand absolutely frozen for a whole minute. It wasn’t right, the person you wanted more than anything not being the one moving against your lips. By the time you actually realized what was happening, the man had been thrown off of you by your leather clad savior.

“Shay,” you breathed, watching him intently. He ignored the gasps of the crowds, picking you up with a stiff arm beneath your legs and one behind your back. His movements were swift and silent, that of a trained killer. Your eyes were on his jaw, clenched with tension. Despite how angry he seemed to be, his hands were still holding you as gently as possible. “Shay,” you ground out, trying to understand what he was doing. He slammed you against the side of the estate, keeping you trapped in between his arms while his knee came up to rub in between your legs.

“You’re mine.” He growled, hands working furiously on removing your clothing. You shivered, whether from the actual cold or Shay’s expression, you weren’t entirely sure.


15. (Shay Cormac)

The clatter of your sword hitting the stone reverberated throughout the night sky, weighing down on the two of you like you were carrying the world itself. Your eyes were heavy, reality finally dawning on you. No matter what he’s done, no matter how long he’s been away, you can’t hurt him. You dropped your head, your arms laying limply by your sides.

“I can’t,” you whispered, not daring to look up to him. “I won’t,” you stated louder than before. His leather boots groaned against the cobblestone as he walked towards you, the sound of metal on metal as he re sheathed his blades. A heavy, warm hand rested on your shoulder, prompting you to look into his dark gaze. His eyes were shining with pain, hurt etched across his expression.

“I never wanted to do this.” His voice was barely audible above the distant sounds of the city, the happy cheering only furthering the dampened mood. “I was forced to.” You lifted a hand, placing it ever so softly against his heated cheeks.

“It’s okay,” you soothed, a hand raking through his dark hair as he buried his head into your chest, wrapping you in a tight embrace. “It’s okay,” you repeated again, his hot tears rolling down your chest. You closed your eyes against the wave of emotion, holding him even closer.

“He wants you dead,” he muttered against your skin, his tears still wet against your clothing.

“I know.” And you did. Haytham Kenway had every reason to want you dead. You were an Assassin who had gotten in his way more than enough times to pose a threat. Although, you looked down at the top of Shay’s head, moonlight reflecting off the black tresses, you would never pose a threat to him. You never could; Templar or not, you loved the man.

“I love you,” he said lowly, almost as if reading your thoughts.

“And I love you.” Slowly, he pulled back from your embrace, keeping his eyes locked with yours.

“Go,” he whispered, “Please.” His voice was broken, face twisted in pain. “I can’t…” He trailed off, looking to the ground shamefully. “Please don’t make me hurt you.”

“I won’t,” you promised. “But, Shay, I don’t wish to leave you.”

“I’ll find you again,” he stood a little straighter, determination lacing his tone. “I’ll find you when this is all over and I swear to you, I will make this right.” You nodded, backing away from him. “Just don’t forget me.” His voice was carried by the wind as you ran, your vision blurring with the onslaught of tears and your heart breaking within your chest.


16. (Edward Kenway)

Admittedly, you’d had way too many drinks. But hey, the suave captain sure as hell didn’t seem to be complaining. In fact, he almost seemed to be enjoying it. It’s not like you were doing anything that different than normal, you were just a little less reserved. Your touches lingered a little longer, your words purposely holding double meanings. You couldn’t help it, you were much too drunk and he was much too attractive. You took another swig of your rum, laughing at something one of the drunken crew members said.

“Hand me a little more rum, lass.” Edward whispered, his lips moving against your ear. You shivered, smiling at his wink as you picked up a tankard of rum. You placed a hand on his upper thigh, leaning across the table to hand him the drink. His eyes followed you, tongue darting out to lick his lips as he watched you hungrily.

“This what you want?” You asked, shifting more weight onto the hand on his thigh while simultaneously moving it higher. His throat bobbed as he swallowed roughly, his hand taking the drink from you and placing it on the table.

“Oh, you are just asking for it now.” His voice was husky, causing you to bite your lip while thoughts of him using that tone in other, more pleasurable, scenarios assaulted your mind. He leaned forward again, all the sounds and smells of the tavern drifting away as his breath danced around your cheek. He was speaking, telling you something, but you were too focused on the smell of salt, leather, and alcohol emanating from him. He pulled back, a smirk on his face and primal intent shining in his crystal orbs. Unfortunately, you didn’t hear a word he said. Deciding to take a chance, you squeezed his thigh and sent a wink, abandoning the table in favor of leaving the stuffy pub. You weren’t certain he followed you, at least not until you felt the gentle yet firm hand against the small of your back.


17. (Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad)

Your scowl deepened at the look of disappointment in his eyes, your arms unconsciously crossing over your chest despite the ache of protest from your ribs.

“I was doing my job.” You stated curtly, moving your gaze from the Master Assassin. He was angry with you, even though he shouldn’t be. You’d only done what was asked of you; nothing more and nothing less.

“You almost got yourself killed,” he argued, a clamp sounding as he took a step forward. “You were meant to finish your target, not die.”

“I didn’t die.” You ground out, motioning wildly to yourself. You clenched your jaw at the pain that came with the action. “I’m still alive, see?”

“You were barely alive when you stumbled back here.” Both hands held tightly onto the sheets, your eyes diverting down. Maybe you had been a little reckless, but it wasn’t on purpose. You hadn’t meant to get yourself nearly killed. It was entirely an accident. “Did you ever think of how that would make me feel?” Your head snapped up, jaw dropped as he continued in the most irritated of tones. “Do you know what I’d do if you died? If I never saw you again?” He was getting more and more hysterical with each word, finally abandoning talking in favor of wrapping both arms around your upper half. “I thought I’d lost you.” You closed your eyes, softly raking a hand through his hair.

“I’m not going anywhere.”


18. (Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad)

His eyes were on you like an eagle readying himself for the kill. You had no idea what you’d done to make Altaïr so angry, but it was almost scary. Although, the intensity that you were sure was meant to intimidate you, just aroused you further. He was an attractive man; anybody could see that. But it was more than just his looks that aroused you, it was the way he acted so confidently. Unfortunately, that confidence was giving you pause at the moment. He seemed so sure about something, so angry about whatever it was. So much so that it had you thinking back to every single wrong thing you’d ever done to the man. The list was quite short and none of them happened recently, but still, something was on his mind. You were snapped out of your reverie when a hand whipped out of nowhere, tugging you into a bedroom. Your back was slammed against rough stone, eyes wide as you looked to your hooded assaulter. Altaïr’s muscles were stiff, his frame trapping you against the wall.

“Altaïr,” you breathed, not sure if you should be relieved it was him or only more alert.

“(Y/N).” His voice was strange, the underlying tension bubbling to the surface.

“What are you doing?” You inquired, watching him as his gaze moved down your body slowly.

“I’m sick of watching silently as you tease me everyday.” He growled, eyes blazing.

“Wha-” He cut you off, lips rough against your own. You were frozen, lips parted and eyes still open. Taking the opportunity, he slipped his velvety tongue inside your mouth, hands tightening on your wrists. He tasted of mint and cinnamon and tentatively, you responded to his kiss causing him to drop your hands in favor of holding your face between his palms as he explored your lips with fervor. You were practically putty in his hands, following every one of his bold movements. He didn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon, his body touching every bit of your own. And, you leaned into his touches, you couldn’t be more glad.


19. (Shay Cormac)

Your combined laughs echoed around the hall as you continued walking down the wooden walkway, Shay by your side. The two of you were reminiscing of past times, something you did quite often, as you made your way to your respective bedrooms. It was a rather nice inn, one that Haytham no doubt picked out. He could be a little… overly grand at times. Oh well, you looked to the Irishman with shining eyes, you’d endure anything Haytham could throw at you so long as you got to spend time with Shay. He smiled warmly back, watching you curiously as you moved to open your door.

“No, that’s the wrong- oh, dammit.” Your eyes were wide, Shay standing directly behind you. It was like everyone was frozen, Hickey looking quite mad as he looked over the woman on top of him to you guys. Your mouth was opening and closing, nothing coming out of it as you just simply shorted out.

“What the ‘ell.” Hickey yelled, glaring at you two.

“I, uh,” Shay tugged at your arm, slamming the door shut to close off the view. “Oh my God,” you laughed, a hand over your mouth as you doubled over. Shay’s chuckle was much deeper as he pulled you down to where your room actually was. “I did not expect that.” Shay was shaking his head, eyes shining with amusement.

“You shouldn’t expect anything less than that from Hickey, lass.” He laughed, warm hand on your shoulder.

“What about from you?” You questioned boldy, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“Aye, you could expect more.” His voice was soft, his hand moving from your shoulder to your cheek gently.

“Then show me.” You challenged.


20. (Connor)

It was too hot, the sheets too uncomfortable against your skin, but you couldn’t move. Not because you were afraid of waking Connor up, but just because you genuinely couldn’t move. He had you wrapped in his two strong arms, one leg thrown over yours, and his head tucked into your neck. Not only that, but he slept like a bear.

“Connor,” you growled, trying to wiggle your way out of his hold. He held on strong, his grip tightening the more you moved. “Dammit, Connor, wake up!” You yelled, flopping around in his arms like a fish out of water. You kept yelling his name, pushing as best you could from inside his embrace, but nothing seemed to be working. “Ratohnhaké:ton,” you screamed, kicking your legs around.

“What?” He questioned, one brown eye peeking open to observe you.

“Move. Over.” You replied, pushing him back.

“Keep still,” he argued, cuddling back into you.

“Connor,” you whined, continuing to move in his embrace. “It’s hot.” This time both eyes opened, his arms holding you even tighter.

“I wish to hold you.” He whispered, a red tint staining his cheeks. That took you by surprise.

“I’m still going to be right here.” You shrugged, watching him curiously. He looked oddly distressed at the thought of having to let you go.

“I know, I just…” he muttered, trailing off when he thought it necessary. You lifted a hot palm to his warm cheeks, a small smile on your lips.

“What’s wrong, Ratohnhaké:ton?” For a second, he didn’t look as if he was going to answer, his eyes flitting down to where your bodies were touching.

“Before I met you, I thought I’d have to be alone. And,” the intensity in his gaze when he looked up was startling, “I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be without you.” Your heart clenched painfully, both arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

“I will never leave you.” You promised, resting your forehead against his. “So long as I walk this Earth, I will always love you, Ratohnhaké:ton.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, head moving up and down with his nod.

“May I please hold you?” He asked, voice light. It may be hot as hell, but you weren’t about to deny him that.

“Always,” you whispered, burying your head into his chest. You could feel his smile as he placed a kiss to the top of your head, the soft pitter-patter of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. Before you drifted off, you heard him speak, tone barely audible.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Too late//Shawn Mendes

A/N: final part to the series! As always the others can be linked down below.

Warnings: swearing? Idk is that even a warning?

Leave feedback.

——

Shawn knows he should have wanted to change, be a better person for you, prove himself worthy of having you. But if he was being honest, he didn’t want to change who he was for some girl he’d most likely break up with sooner or later.

It was harsh, but it was the truth. Somewhere, underneath all that insecurity and doubt, he did want you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him, and the way things were going right now it sure seemed that way.

“Hey man, you listening?” Shawn’s eyes snap towards his friends, 5 pairs of eyes staring back at him, worried looks etched onto their faces, one of his friends was holding a joint up to him.

“Uh-yeah, sorry I just spaced out.” Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he brings the joint up to his lips, taking a hit and breathing in deeply, he wanted to forget, and getting high and wasted seemed like the only way how.

“What you need is a distraction, want me to find you a nice girl?” Logan asked, chugging the rest of his beer.

“I already told ya, I have a girl. Can you stop pushing it.”

“Bullshit.” Logan muttered, catching Shawn’s full attention.

“What did you just say?.”

“How about we all calm down, okay?” Lloyd, another minion intervened, not wanting to see his friends fight.

“Shut up Lloyd, how about Shawn grows a pair and stops acting like a fucking pussy.”

Shawn clenched his jaw, taking deep breaths to calm himself down, if he were to fight Logan he’d kill him, and Prison doesn’t sound very nice.

“Piss off, I’m not in the mood.” He spat, Turning on his heel beginning to walk away but a hand pulled him back.

“You gonna run back to y/n? Beg her to forgive you and then cheat on her again?” Shawn wanted to rip Logan’s throat out for even breathing your name, the way it rolled from his Tonuge made Shawn shiver.

“You’re a goddamned fool if you think that’s the case, you think she’s gonna forgive you is it? You think she’ll welcome you back into her bed as soon as you give her a half assed apology, you don’t deserve forgiveness Shawn for the things you’ve done you deserve to be locked up. Nobody wants to love someone like you.”

“Shut up!” Shawn roared, socking Logan in the jaw causing him to stumble back and fall onto one of his friends.

“You’re done for Mendes.”

——

The sound of rocks hitting your window, woke you from your peaceful much needed nap. You hadn’t been getting much sleep Over the last few days, your mind wouldn’t shut off. attempting to drown out the noise you pull a pillow up to your ears, praying for sleep, but your prayers weren’t answered.

The rock throwing continued and you silently thanked the lord that your parents and sister were out of town.

Groaning, you throw the duvet and comforter somewhere in your room before stomping to the window to see what all the fuss is about, you expect see a trouble rising preteen, or an axe Murderer but instead you see the devil himself, that fucker. He hasn’t uttered one word to you all week then just shows up unannounced.

“Fuck off!” You shout out the window, sticking up your middle finger for effect, but the smile on his face doesn’t falter, it was one of those smiles the ones that say “I’m sorry.” Without actually having to speak.

“I’m coming in, your mum gave me a key few months back, we need to talk. ” You make a mental note to scold your mother for that one, she always did have a soft spot for Shawn.

——

You could hear the floor boards creek underneath Shawn’s boots, he was getting closer, This was it. The confrontation you’d spent so long planning out in the shower was about to happen.

“Listen, before you say anything i need to tell you something-“

“Shawn-.”

“Y/n let me talk.” His voice was stern, the look on his face shut you up completely, his iris’s had turned dark black, something that honestly scared the shit out of you.

“O-Okay.”

He ran his hands through his hair a few times, getting rid of the knots, he looked a mess, his clothes were tattered and his eyes. Well, let’s just say they didn’t look very comforting right now. He had cut marks and dark blue bruises on his knuckles but you didn’t ask, being honest you really didn’t want to know who he beat up this time.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being a shitty boyfriend and pushing you away, I’m sorry I give off mixed signals, I know I’m not the easiest person to love, I-I know I Mess up a lot but I can’t help it, it’s who I am. You deserve someone better y/n we both know it, if I was a decent man I’d tell you to move on and find someone new, someone that would never hurt you. But I’m not a decent man, I’m a stupid asshole who always fucks Up, but I love you.” Shawn was blinking back tears by now, He grasps at your hands, softly running his thumb over your knuckles, staring deep into your eyes waiting for a reaction.

“Please, baby say something.” He was full on crying by now, he didn’t even care that tears were freely streaming down his face and landing onto his t-shirt, he didn’t care that he had just spilled everything, he only cared about you, and how much he didn’t want to loose you.

But he was too late, you were already gone.

You had left a long time ago, unbeknownst to the both of you your heart no longer belonged to Shawn, it belonged to you.

Maybe it always had, you didn’t need Shawn or any man for that matter, you just thought you did. Everything you’ve ever needed you gave yourself.

Being someone else’s woman didn’t satisfy you, you wanted to be your own woman.

It was about time that you took control of your own heart, you didn’t need Shawn, but he needed you.

Roles were reversed and the man who hated love suddenly craved it, the woman who read books upon books about finding her Prince Charming wanted a different ending.

You smiled lightly, Shawn watched you confused, tears still sliding down his pale face. You reached a hand out, wiping the tears away.

“Don’t cry love, you’ll be okay. You don’t love me, you never did you just thought you did. We can both benifit from this, you can find someone who you truly love, and who loves to back-“

“I have, she’s sitting right in front of me.”

“I need to let you go, you need to let go. You’ll be better for it I promise you, this relationship is toxic we’ll only end up killing eachother.” You leant over and placed a chaste kiss on his forehead.

“No, no no please don’t do this please don’t leave, me I’ll change I swear!” Shawn choked out, holding onto you tighter than ever. He stuffed his face into the crook of your neck and placed his hands around your waist. He was scared of letting go, he didn’t want you to leave him. you held him in your arms for the last time ever. you knew after this nothing could ever be the same Again.

He didn’t understand now, but he would one day, you did what was the best for the both of you.

Request: One-shot, where the reader is Mitakas sister and is in a secret relationship with Kylo and Mitaka, knocks on Kylos door and the reader answers opens it and Mitaka finds out about his sister and Kylo. Later on, Hux makes jokes about it to Kylo and Mitaka.

Words: 2.1 K +

Warning: None

A/N: this would be really funny omg ahh I feel so bad for Mitaka he’s been through too much, let the child have some peace


Kylo was against you, his head on your lap as you sat in bed, your fingers running through his hair, the softness of his black locks making you smile while he stared up at you, your other hand interlocked with his. He sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a minute and turning his head to the ceiling, where he paused, surrounded by bliss. You admired his features, running your eyes over the hard lines of his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. You pressed your lips together, your chest rising and falling in even breaths.

Silence washed over you, something you were content with as there was no need for words to drown out your thoughts. Your mind was running over Kylo, your guys’ relationship, which had yet to become public. Maybe for the better, due to Kylo’s responsibilities and rank and not to mention that you were the sister of Mitika, a person that you didn’t want to know about your affiliation with the leader of the Knights of Ren. 

You hadn’t expected it to happen, nor had you even wanted it to, at first being filled with fear whenever he’d walk into the room, his boots sounding off loud thuds, his robes moving heavily around his long legs and his fists clenched underneath tight gloves. His whole appearance struck fear and anxiety into the order, his walk. How you sometimes didn’t know whether or not he was looking at you. That is, until he began to talk softly towards you, and request your service more often. One night, on your way back to your quarters, you found Kylo in your room. First seeing his helmet resting in his hands before meeting his brown eyes. 

Kylo then let go of your hand, turning over and pushing the hem of your shirt, or his shirt that you had taken over your stomach. Laying butterfly kisses over your hip bone and traveling up, you held his face in your hands and met his gaze. 

“I’m going to wash up.” He muttered, sighing heavily before pushing himself up into a seated position. The muscles in his back flexing while he leaned over for a second. 

Your stomach flipped and your breath caught in your throat, memorizing Kylo’s thickly built structure, something that left you breathless every time. You thought back to the time you first saw him, the first time you had unclipped his top from his body, tugging it from his chest. The first time that you had placed your hands on his bare chest, and had felt his heartbeat against your palms. A shiver ran up your spine, and your cheeks began to burn. You repressed the memory, watching as he then stood up, the waist of his pants hanging low, making you swallow the lump in your throat and look down at your hands. 

When he got to the bathroom, he shut the door, not locking it before he turned on the shower. You bit your bottom lip, pushing his shirt down to cover your thighs, and then you swung your legs over the side of the bed. A twinge of excitement bursting in your chest while you thought about joining him. Running your hands over the fabric of the sheets, you let out a heavy breath. Taking in the moment. 

The two of you had been together for well over a year, secretly meeting, sneaking off. You would spend your nights in his quarters, or him yours. He would put you on his service during missions and during the day so that he could see you, but that didn’t stop the fact that it was hard to hide what you felt the likes of someone such of General Hux. Or even your brother, who was meticulous towards detail, towards body language. 

Sometimes it was too much, how brooding and strict, cruel Kylo had to be even towards you. He tried not to treat you as meaninglessly as he did everyone else, but there were moments in front of Hux where he had to put you in your place or speak to you with the harshness and unyielding animosity that was his mask. 

That was the only part that you couldn’t wait till it came out. Yet, you also couldn’t wait until you didn’t have to lie to your own family. A part of you wanted to just walk up to him and tell him, and tell him that no one else could know. For heaven’s sake, both you and Mitika had been best friends since birth. Literally. So you felt it was unfair to leave him out of possibility the rest of your life, of your relationship with Kylo. Since it was a large part of you, anyways. 

You got up, your feet padding across the ground as you began to walk towards the bathroom, grasping the bottom of his shirt and peeling it away when there was a sharp knock at the door. Not thinking that you were in the master’s room, the boss, you sighed, pulling the shirt back down and moving swiftly towards the door. There was a second knock, which made you furrow your eyebrows as you muttered, “I’m coming, jeez.” before reaching towards the knob and swinging the large metal door towards you. 

On the other side, was not just your worst nightmare, but your brother. Mitika. He looked up from his feet, his hands folded behind his back, his hair slicked back in the usual do and his face pressed into a hard line. When his eyes met yours, it took him a moment to realize it was you, but when he did, you saw his mouth fall open, and your blood ran cold. He looked inside quickly, hearing that the shower was on, he whipped his head back towards you, his eyes wide and his skin paler than usual. 

“y/n??? What-what are you doing? Here? Why are you in Kylo Ren’s ROOM.” Mitika hissed, probably afraid that Kylo was going to step out of the bathroom. He was shaking, and you softened your eyebrows into an apologetic expression. 

“I haven’t told you yet.” You cautiously said, clenching your jaw. “Sorry.”

“Told me WHAT.” You knew he had already figured it out, and you didn’t say anything, but let him catch up with you. Mitika then led his eyes down, at what you were wearing. Kylo’s shirt hanging loosely around your frame and falling around your thighs, Mitika gagged. “Oh my god. Oh, my-” Mitika shook his head in disbelief and disgust, then fled. Hurrying down the hall before you could say anything more. 

Still standing by the door, you gripped the knob in your hand, closing your eyes for a breath and shutting it as you walked towards the bathroom. Your mood diminished, you opened and closed the door that locked in the steam from the shower, then peeled away your shirt and underwear, shuddering before throwing your clothes to the floor and stepping into the shower. 

Kylo stood above you, his mass looming over yours, he then reached out to bring you close, but you just put your hands on his arms. Stopping him from locking his lips with yours. 

“Mitika just came by.” 

Kylo stared at you, his eyes hard and his mouth open. “What.” 

“I opened the door… I wasn’t thinking. And now I have to go talk to him.” Groaning, you bent your head forward, resting it against Kylo’s chest while he mulled over the situation. 

“Fuck.” Kylo cursed, looked down, resting his chin against the top of your head and wrapping his arms around you. “I guess that’s that.” 

“You aren’t mad?” You questioned, expecting for him to be furious that now people would know. But he just took a deep breath. 

“It was bound to happen sooner or later. Right now is as good as ever.” He admitted, and your heart skipped a beat. You then looked up and smiled. 

“Okay.” Your words hushed, you kissed him, moving against him with a soft touch. 


After drying your hair, you watched as Kylo dressed in his usual black robes. You had pulled on your black first order jacket and running your fingers through your hair, you gave out a breath, making Kylo look over. 

“I’m going to get going, try and find Mitika.”

“Okay.” He responded, walking over to you and pressing a firm kiss on the top of your head. “I love you.” He added, and you smiled, your heart fluttering at his delicate words. You then lifted yourself onto your toes, kissing him, and then heading out the door. When you turned to walk the same way that you knew Mitika was working, Hux was heading your way, and you were tempted to stop. However, you put one foot in front of the other, pretending not to notice Hux’s long strides and judgemental stare. That he had cocked an eyebrow, realizing where you had been coming from. 

You stormed into one of the base’s control room, where they monitored the Tie-fighters. Mitika was against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and his eyes staring blatantly forward. The other workers looked over at you as you walked quickly over to him. He didn’t notice you, too lost in his thoughts. But when you blocked his view of the other wall, he blinked and cringed away. 

“Mitika, let me explain.” 

“You’re fucking the boss, I get it.” He narrowed his eyes, lowering his tone. 

“Mitika.”

“I have work to do.”

“We’ve been dating for over a year now. We aren’t just banging.” You said just before he walked away. Stopping abruptly, Mitika turned to you, widening his eyes just as he had when he first found you in Kylo’s room. 

“A year.” 

“Yeah.”

“A fucking year.”

“Yes, Mitika.” 

Rubbing his face, Mitika groaned and then headed towards the exit. You followed him, not knowing what else to say. However, when you both walked out of the control room, Hux walked in. Alongside Kylo. 

Hux looked at you and then at your boyfriend. Then at your brother. Mitika tensed up, rigid since Hux could basically make his life miserable at the snap of a finger. More so than Kylo Ren, who he feared nonetheless due to knowing about his anger management issues from personal experience. Kylo nodded towards you, like an acknowledgment of your thoughts. While Hux raised his eyebrows and stopped, smirking. 

“Now aren’t we just a big ol’ happy family?” He met your stare, his cold and unemotional. “Mr. Y/L/N, how does it feel to have your sister fucking the big guy?” Mitika’s eyes widened and he gulped. Unable to answer, Hux continued, bitterly chuckling, “I expect to be invited to the wedding. Now, just make sure, Ren,” he turned his attention to Kylo, “that what’s in your pants doesn’t get in the way of the matters of the Order.” 

Pushing past Mitika, Hux left his words lingering in the air, but you just pushed them away and turned towards your brother. He gulped, then scoffed at you, avoiding Kylo’s view as he walked away. Kylo lingered by you, reaching out and grazing your shoulder with his hand. You closed your eyes for a second, and just quietly noted, “he’ll get over it. We just need to give him time.” 

You knew your brother, someone that didn’t hang onto things longer than necessary, but most importantly when he knew that it was you. And even though rage boiled in your stomach towards Hux, and how he was holding your relationship with Kylo as bait for him to make mistakes, bait for Mitika to get in trouble, you just wanted Mitika to forgive you for hiding it. He was the only family you had left, after your parents had been killed during the fight with the Empire. 

They had been taken from your home when you were only a baby. You couldn’t remember them, but Mitika could, as he was a year older. He said that they hid you in one of the spaces in the floor and that stormtroopers had come into the house, pointing their guns and destroying your things. Leaving no trace of life in their wake, when Mitika came out, holding you in a swaddle of blankets, the Stormtroopers were gone, but not entirely. Your parents worked for the Empire, but they were deemed as traitors for leaving. 

When you looked back up at Kylo, Hux broke the silence, calling his attention. You nodded, walking past him towards your station, while Kylo moved to where Hux had gathered information on the leading rivals, called the Resistance. 

5

You let out a sigh, thankful at least that your mother had given you permission to use the subway. 

Seventeen and you still needed ’permission’. 

You hated being at home anyway, relishing in the late afternoon sunshine, pushing away the thoughts you didn’t need and instead focusing on the city before you, the sun turning Seoul into a jewelry box, gold and silver building lined with a rich velvet sky, the people like discarded gems, scattered among the streets and shops. You raised the volume of Lost, arguably one of your favorite BTS songs, perhaps if the music was loud enough, it would drown everything else out. 

Perhaps. 

Lost my way-ay. The lyrics bounced through your mind, lips pressed into a grim line. 

And they couldn’t be more accurate.


MIRRORS

Part Eleven (pt. 2)

I’m now realizing i just copied and pasted the same ending bit of the previous part here and idk what I wanted to say but here’s this

DO NOT STEAL OR REUPLOAD

masterlist | part eleven (pt. 1) | part twelve | request

anonymous asked:

Hi!!! May I request a scenario where both Todoroki and his s/o are separately stressed and busy with their own workload, and Todoroki stops his work to calm his super agitated s/o down please? Really need it rn :( Thanks!!!

Todoroki Shouto

He calls your name but it sounds like a distant voice, drowned out by the business of your mind. You had a thousand things to do and not enough hours in the day to do them. You where only one person after all.

You suddenly feel his hand on your shoulder and it pulls you from your thoughts, if only for a moment.

“What?” The word comes out more harsh then you intended but your not about to take it back. Didn’t he know how busy you were?

You’re not ready when you feel him turn you around with relative ease to face face him. The next thing you know, your in his arms, face pressed against his chest. You resist for all of two seconds but his hold on you becomes almost suffocating.

“Shh. I’ll let you get back to work in a moment but for now, just rest. Don’t worry, everything is going to be okay.”

His arms are warm and strong around you. You take a few deep breaths and slowly feel yourself relax and then you remember. He’s right. Everything will be okay. One step at a time.

Isaac Lahey Imagine- Because Of Me (Part 3)

Part 1      Part 2    Part4

“Brett!” you shouted for the hundredth time. You had been walking around the forest all night looking for him, ignoring the clear pain from every aching being of your body. Maybe Malia was right- you did need extra track practice. You walked and shouted until you physically couldn’t anymore so you sat on a mossy log to catch your breath. You took your phone out your bag and began to scroll through all your missed calls and texts. Three missed calls from Stiles, two from Kira and about seven from Malia. A text from Stiles, ‘Where the hell are you?’. Another from Liam, ‘We’re all worried, why didn’t you show up to the meeting?’. Two from Scott, ‘If you don’t get here now something must of happened and we’re coming to look for you’ and ‘We just got the memo, I hope everything’s ok, call me when you can’. Then there were several texts from Lydia, you didn’t open the chat you could already see what one said, ‘Isaac text me, what in the world?!?! I’m waiting for you in the coffee shop-’ you didn’t want to see the rest. You locked your phone and shoved it into your back pocket, “Great” you sighed. Now the whole pack pretty much knows what you’ve done. What were you thinking? On second thought you weren’t. Brett was the one thing you had going good for you and you blew it, all over some stupid fantasy that you could go back to Isaac and everything would be fine. You weren’t entirely sure who you hurt the most because at the moment you felt the most broken. You put your head in your hands, you know you’re hurt when the tears wont fall. Regardless, that was a real dick move for Isaac to tell your friends like that, without even talking to you about it.

You lifted your head and picked yourself back up, it was best that you went to the coffee shop, you knew Lydia would be worried about you and it wasn’t long until closing time. You huffed and began to head back in the same direction, pulling your bag onto your shoulder with a sense of nervousness and discomfort after the realization of being on your own, in the forest, at night without any supernatural defence kicked in. You were storming through the narrow trees when you heard a twig snap from behind you, due to Allison drilling some of her hunter training into you, your immediate reaction was to pick up the first branch you saw and snap it in half to get a pointed end. You then flung yourself around but they caught your arm before you could stab them. “Brett” you sighed, slowly lowering the stick and dropping it onto the ground. “I cant believe you would do this, with him of all people! It’s like the second he came back you became distant and started lying to me” he exclaimed, you were ashamed but there was a slight bit of relief when you saw how much he actually cared. “I know” you said staring at him. “Don’t deny it you-” he began but cut himself off after realising what you said. “I know I’ve been off with you, but can you blame me? Me and Isaac were together since freshman year, that’s how much we’ve been through together” you stated. “This isn’t about you and Isaac, Y/N. This is about us!” he shouted. “I’m sorry ok! I’m sorry I’ve been such a terrible girlfriend, I’m sorry I cant control my feelings and I’m sorry I’m not good enough. I’m not good enough for anyone!” you shouted back, with hurt more so than anger in your voice. “Why are you turning this back on me? You’re the one letting your ex latch onto you!” he was still shouting, but a bitterness had now crept in. “I’m done, I am so done” your lips quivered. “What do you mean you’re done? You were about to cheat on me, remember?” he was raising his voice, but no longer shouting. With the dignity and pride you had left you carried on walking, ignoring Brett calling your name.

By the time you got to the coffee house, your eyes were puffy and your face was drenched in not only tears but rain from the thunderstorm that had kindly hit you on the way there. You looked through the huge glass opening, seeing the dim yellow light that gave it a comforting and cosy warmth. There were a few people dotted around using the free Wi-Fi and a few staff members that were beginning to clean up. You glanced over to the queue to see Lydia was at the front ordering another cup, you took a deep breath and quickly opened the door. You walked straight over and the second she looked up at you, it just seemed to spill out. “Brett saw Isaac kissing me and I think I just broke up with him” you accidently said quite loudly, throwing your arms around and crying. Everyone stopped their conversations and it fell silent for a second, all their attention fell on you. You were standing there panting after getting that off your chest, with drenched hair and clothes. “Make that two coffees and bring them over” Lydia said quietly to the worker, handing him a 20 dollar bill. She then walked over and put her arm around you, pulling you to one side. They all finally returned to their conversations or put their earphones back in. “You didn’t read my text, did you?” she whispered giving you a sympathetic look. You shook your head with wide eyes and pulled out your phone before reading the text out loud, “…I’m waiting for you in the coffee shop- with the pack” you said slowly. You looked up to see them all sitting on the sofas in the far corner, staring at you awkwardly. You definitely didn’t sign up for this. She walked you over and you both sat on the sofa next to Kira and opposite Malia, Scott and Stiles. Liam was sitting on a single chair he had pulled over, nervously biting his nails. Scott gave you his jacket to put over your shoulders, after noticing you were shivering. They brought over two coffees and you held the mug in your hand, staring down at it. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to” Kira smiled kindly. “Yes she does, now spill” Malia demanded. “Don’t act like you don’t already know, Isaac told you!” you exclaimed, still not looking up. “He only told us that Brett saw you studying with him and he flipped, that’s why you weren’t at the meeting” Scott added. You gave a loud sigh realising you had dropped yourself into this mess, not Isaac. “So back to the beginning, Isaac kissed you?” Stiles asked, clearly disappointed. “Not on the lips- just on the neck” you said, also realising how that sounded. Malia looked kind of happy, she hadn’t known Isaac for long but you guys were her otp, but you could tell she wished it was under better circumstances. “So wait, did you say you broke up with Brett?” Liam asked, also kind of happy. “I think so, I didn’t mean to but I’ve managed to screwed it all up” you groaned. “We can fix this!” Stiles said full of hope and optimism. “Well what if she doesn’t want it to be fixed?” Malia said glaring at Stiles. They then both proceeded to have a small squabble as to why you were better off with Isaac than Brett or Brett than Isaac. “What do you want?” Lydia asked, rubbing your arm comfortingly. “I don’t know anymore” you shook your head. This was certainly going to be a long night.

Luckily, the next day was a Saturday so you were able to avoid your friends for at least two more days. You were in your room listening to music but even that couldn’t drown out the loud thoughts swirling around your mind. You walked over to your wardrobe, pulling out the first decent outfit you saw and shoved it on. You actually remembered your jacket this time, after nearly drowning the night before. You hesitated for a moment, but thought against telling your friends where you were going (For the last month they made you text them whenever you went out alone). Instead you shoved your phone into your jacket pocket, grabbed your house keys and left. It wasn’t that late anyway. You wanted to go on a walk for a while, to take your mind off things and to clear your head. It’s something you used to do a lot of, before you were sucked into the supernatural world because now you get paranoid a lot. But today you weren’t going to let it bother you. Without a second thought you walked through a random empty side street, you were fine until you heard that noise. The noise that sends shivers down your spine, the noise that torments your nightmares. You slowly turned around to see them walking towards you. “Shit!” you whispered, running further down until you reached a dead end. Your shaky hands reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone, you knew you barley had enough time to make one call. You hesitated between Isaac and Brett, before realising you didn’t have either of them anymore. The second most reliable was Stiles because he always had his phone on him, “Pick up, Pick up” you panicked, noticing they were glitching closer and closer. “Hey it’s Stiles”. You sighed in relief but before you could open your mouth it continued, “You’ve reached my voicemail, so leave a message”. “This isn’t happening” you mumbled, running your hand through your hair. When it finally beeped you spoke as quick as you could, “Stiles I’m scared. The Dread Doctors are going to take me, please don’t let them kill me. I don’t know where I am and no one’s around. I’m so scared, you have to find me, please-” you began, while salty tears ran down your face. You looked around to see some rusty metal stairs that led to the roof of some old factory building. You threw your phone at the main dread doctor, you though it would buy you some time, but it just hit off its metal mask and smashed to the floor. You quickly ran over and up the stairs constantly turning to look behind you, when you didn’t see them at the bottom of the staircase you thought you’d lost them. But as you made it onto the roof there they were, already waiting for you. Typical- you should of seen that one coming.

“Do you think she’s ok?” Liam asked. “This is the second meeting she’s missed, something must be up” Malia said concerned. “Maybe she doesn’t want to see Isaac” Kira said nervously, while glancing at him. “She’s not coming” Stiles said, walking into Scott’s livingroom and holding his phone. He had tears in his eyes and he looked disappointed in himself. He played the voicemail for them all, all of them looked down at their hands or the floor while sitting on the edge of their seats. They couldn’t help but blame themselves for this happening. “We’re not letting them touch Y/N” Scott said, suddenly standing up. “What’s the plan?” Lydia asked, as the rest of them stood up. “Lydia, go and find Brett. Then go to her house and get him to catch her scent if he needs to” Scott began. “Malia, go with Isaac and try to find where she was taken. Look for any signs of struggle or emotions that can help us find her” he continued. “Kira, go with Liam and try to find their lab. Liam, remember to use all your senses to find it again.” “Stiles, come with me” he continued. “So wait, where are you going?” Liam asked. “If anyone knows it’ll be Theo. We’ll speak to him” Scott answered. “Great” Stiles muttered. “Keep your phones on” Scott stated, as they all flooded back out of his front door.

Lydia took her car and met Brett outside his house, he climbed into the passenger seat and sank into the chair.” Do you erm, need to get her scent?” Lydia asked softly. “No I’ve got it” he said rubbing his face. “This is my fault, I shouldn’t of shouted at her, then she wouldn’t need to go on one of her walks” Brett said shaking his head. “This isn’t your fault, we’re going to find her ok. I promise” Lydia said, glancing at him. “If anything happens to her I’ll never forgive myself” he claimed. “She’s a hard nut to crack, she’ll be fine” Lydia assured. Meanwhile, Isaac and Malia traced your scent to the side street. “That’s her phone” Malia said picking it up. “I think she went up here” Isaac continued, running up the stairs with Malia shorty behind. They noticed the small pool of blood that had stained the floor. “There was definitely a struggle and she’s hurt” Malia exclaimed. “She was scared, angry and for some reason amused” Isaac said furrowing his brows. “Sounds like Y/N” Malia told. “I should of been here, I should of always been here” Isaac mumbled. “How I see it, you cant change the past but you can change the future. So there’s no point blaming yourself when you could be out there looking for her” Malia advised. He nod his head and they carried on looking. “I’m going to find her, I need to” he whispered to himself. “Does this, you know smell familiar to you?” Kira asked. “I’m not sure, I cant do this without Scott” Liam replied. “Yes you can, I know you can. Do it for Y/N, she needs us” Kira encouraged. “What if I screw up? What if she dies because I’m too stupid to figure it out?” Liam asked, kicking the wall of the random tunnel they were in. “Don’t think like that, just breathe” Kira soothed. Liam took her advice and stopped to think for a minute, before tuning in his senses. “It might be this way” he shouted, as the two of them ran through the network of tunnels. “Theo” Scott called. “We know you’re here you little runt” Stiles added. Scott punched Stiles in the arm gently to shut him up, to which Stiles acted like he’d been hit by a hammer. “What do you want?” Theo asked walking forward. “We know you’re working with the dread doctors, where’s their little den?” Stiles asked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about” Theo replied, giving Stiles a sarcastic smile. “They have Y/N” Scott intervened, not wanting to hear them argue again. “Y/N? Why would they take her?” Theo questioned, clearly bewildered. Even though he was a power hungry sociopath, you had always got along with him and he promised he would never hurt you. “Show us where the lab is and we can save her” Stiles said. Theo huffed but still followed Scott and Stiles out to the jeep.

When your eyes finally drifted open you were met with a throbbing pain on your thigh. You looked down to see you had a huge slash mark from the struggle you had on the roof top. Your one arm was chained down so you couldn’t stand up or move very far. You rolled over slightly, your eye sight was still kind of blurry but you could see the shadows of the dread doctors moving. From what you knew about them, it wouldn’t be long until you were strapped down and made one of their experiments. You clenched your eyes shut, out of all the things you’d seen they were by far the creepiest. Even though you’d faced the Alpha in sophomore year, were paralysed by the Kanima, almost killed by the Alpha pack and Darach, watched two of your friends die from the Nogitsune and one suffer from it, helped your friends survive the Deadpool and even came face to face with The Beast, yet still something about the Dread Doctors made your skin crawl. You were lying there, feeling so weak and useless. Maybe being made a fake supernatural creature wasn’t such a bad thing, even if you died you could at least experience power for once, rather than being a useless human waiting to be saved all the time. “Please don’t hurt me” you groaned still in pain, as one of them began to walk over to you. It didn’t speak, it just made noises of banging metal and steam. You closed your eyes again, but before it reached out to touch you, a loud growl echoed around the lab. Along with the sound of loud footsteps from people running shortly behind. There was a fight and a half, you’d never heard them shout and scream so loud while giving out punches and kicks. That’s when you felt someone yank the chains from the wall and pry them off you. You rubbed your wrist and opened your eyes. They put their hand at the back of your head and helped you sit up. “It’s ok, I’m here now, you’re safe” he said softly. “It’s you” you smiled wildly, staring into his eyes. “It’s me” he smiled back, running his hands through your hair. “You saved me” you said weakly, while wincing due to him taking some of your pain away. It was him…

Cliff hanger, I know… Send in your requests as to who you want it to be, Brett or Isaac. I also interpreted a few requests into one, even if I don’t reply to them I would of still seen it x

Rhythm - 3

(part 1) | (part 2) | (part 4) | (part 5)

summary: you want her, you need her, and I’ll never be her.
warnings: swearing, angst, injury 
word count: 1359


“Take off your shirt.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said take off your shirt.”

The nerve of this man, to barge into your room, without so much as a knock, mind you, and tell you to take off your clothes. The hell does he think he is?

“Need I remind you that you have a girlfriend, Barnes?”

Bucky strides over to you and grips your arm. Despite the chill of the metal, his touch burns like a match against your skin, and you try to pull away, but his grip is firm. His jaw is clenched, and his stare is cold.

“Listen, Y/N, neither of us want to be here,” (Ouch), “but everyone else is on a mission and Bruce told me to make sure your bandages are changed so do me a favour, darlin’, and take off your fuckin’ shirt.”

His piercing gaze makes you shiver, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s standing so fucking close to you, and all you have to do is lean in a couple inches and then your lips would be on his and–

“I swear to god if you’re just goin’ to stand there then you can change ‘em yourself.”  

You snap out of it and take a couple steps back. The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed and you take a seat, then peel your shirt off, taking care to not aggravate your shoulder injury. Bucky watches you, arms crossed, his weight placed lazily on one leg.

You look up at him. “Now who’s just standing there?”

He rolls his eyes and walks over, kneeling in front of you. Once again, he’s so close. So close that you can breathe his scent: aftershave and detergent and–

And his girlfriend’s perfume. You swallow, throat tightening and chest hurting with a pang of jealousy. You’re being stupid, irrational, and you damn well know it, but fuck, it just– it hurts. A lot.

Bucky’s fingers work painfully slowly, peeling away the bandage wrapped around your midsection. Every now and then his fingers brush against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His breath is hot against your skin. You close your eyes, feeling your own breathing becoming shallower and shallower. You shouldn’t be feeling the things you do – he has a girlfriend, for fuck’s sake.

It’s been three weeks since the last mission. Bucky’s been avoiding you, and you can’t understand if it’s because of what he thought what your reckless plan to save his ass or because of what you’d whispered to him before passing out. Either way, above anything, you’re relishing the time he’s spending with you, however forced and guilt-riddled it may be.

He’s removed the bandage now, and he lets it fall away. Then the tips of his fingers brush your bare skin, just barely making contact. It’s a feather light touch, and you shudder. He feels around your injury, and then slowly his thumb skims across your stitches, and then–

“Fuck, Barnes!” He draws his hand back quickly from where his fingers slipped and poked your final stitch. You clench your fists, breathing in and out heavily. “Watch what you’re doing.”

“Shit. Shit, sorry.” He rubs his knuckles with his metal hand, draws in a breath, and reaches for the clean bandages. He works quickly after that. There’s a change in his demeanour; he’s tense again, shoulders pulled back and a frown on his face as his finishes bandaging your midsection and moves onto your shoulder.

It’s quiet after that and he’s careful not to touch your skin at all. He finishes in record time and when he’s done he hands you painkillers (“You couldn’t have given them to me before?”), rolls his eyes, and turns to leave to room.

He’s almost at the door when you speak up, “Hey, Barnes?” He stops, but doesn’t turn around to look at you. “Thanks.” His hand hesitates on for a fraction of a second around the doorknob, then he pulls open the door and leaves your room without a word.


“BARNES!” You’re storming through his bedroom door, not bothering to knock, and fuck, you’re pissed off.

He appears from behind the bathroom door, a towel wrapped around his hip, and wet hair dripping onto his chest. “What?”

You pay no regard to his appearance and barrel towards him until your finger is prodding him in the chest and you’re glaring up at him. (Damn him, for being so tall). “You told Steve to let me off this mission.”

“What?”

You draw in an angry breath. “Don’t play dumb with me Barnes. You told Steve that I wasn’t fit for the mission.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, I did.”

Your hands grab him at the shoulders and shove him backwards. (He barely moves). “How fucking dare you.

Then his hands are on your shoulders and he’s pushing you backwards until your back meets the wall and then his hands are on either side of you, trapping you. “Don’t touch me, doll.”

“I told you not to call me that.” You’re shoving his chest but he doesn’t move an inch. “You have no right– no right! – to make decisions on my behalf.”

He leans in closer. “In case you haven’t noticed, darlin’,” (You hate the way he calls you darling), “you’re injured.”

I’m fine.”

“You got shot a month ago. I ain’t goin’ to let you compromise another mission.”

You drop your hands in disbelief. Compromise? Compromise? How fucking dare he. “In case you haven’t noticed, Barnes, I saved your fucking ass last time.” You’re yelling now.

“And I didn’t fuckin’ ask you to.”

Unbelievable. “Fine then. I’m so damn sorry for saving your goddamn life. How stupid of me to think about someone other than my own damn self.”

Bucky clenches his jaw. “You’re not goin’ on the mission.”

You close your eyes. “You don’t control me.”

“Steve’s already said you ain’t goin’. You’re a liability on the field with your two bullet wounds and the last thing we need–“

You kiss him. Your hands are placed lightly on his shoulders and your mouth moves and he–

He doesn’t respond. He’s as still as a statue.

Fuck, Fuck, you’ve fucked up.

You pull away, eyes wide and heart hammering against your rib cage. “I – I shouldn’t have done that.  Shit. Shit.” Your gaze drops to the floor. “I should go.” You nod once, “Yeah. Yeah, I should go.” And then you’re moving to push your way past him, but his hands find your arms and then they’re pushing you back against the wall and then his fingers touch your cheeks and then his lips are on yours. His lips are on yours.

They’re soft. Softer than you’ve imagined they would be, and the revelation alone drowns out the voice at the back of your mind telling you just how wrong this is.

You kiss him back, matching the hunger behind his lips as your fingers tangle themselves in his wet locks. His hands travel from your face, down your neck, brushing the sides of your arms before the settles on the curve of your hips. Then his lips move from yours to your jaw, and then further down to your collarbone, and your breathing becomes laboured and he’s kissing the joint between your shoulder and neck and this is all you’ve ever wanted and–

He pulls away and your eyes shoot open. His own eyes are wide and his breathing heavy, chest falling up and down so fast. Your brows knit in confusion as he steps away from you.

“You should go.” His voice is barely above a whisper; you’re straining to hear him. “You should go.” He says it more firmly this time, as if reassuring himself and not you.

“What? You can’t just–”

His hand grabs your arm and pushes you towards the door. “You need to leave.” And then he’s pushing you out of the door and slamming the door shut behind you.

You’re staring at the white door in disbelief, chest tightening with an ache more intense than you’ve ever felt before and throat constricting and eyes burning.

Fuck you, Bucky Barnes. Fuck you.


A/N: There will be a part 4, but I am a bit busy for the next few days, so it probably won’t be out for a while. Thank you so much for the response to this series! 

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Herbology and Sketchbooks

Neville Longbottom x Reader

Summary: Neville finds your sketchbook and finds an interesting drawing.

Warnings: None :) Major fluffies

Requested by @slythxr! I hope you enjoy :)

Originally posted by neville-my-hero-blog


The voice of Professor Sprout is drowned out of your mind as you sit miserably in Herbology class. Combined with your natural inability to be good at the subject and the god awful humidity, you can confidentially say this is your least favorite class.

But, there’s something that makes the class somewhat less dreadful. You can’t help but notice the talented Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, effortlessly work with all the different types of plants.

Today, apparently the class is working with, what was it called? Ah, fluxweed.

The pretty green plant is tended for with the expert hands of Neville. Instead of doing the same, you open up your sketchbook and begin to draw the elegance of the plant and the attractive confidence on Neville’s face.

Before you know it, the class is dismissed. You begin to pack everything up before remembering you had a test to make up for Professor Snape. Knowing he’ll kill you if you’re late, you hurriedly gather your belongings and head to the dungeons, unknowingly forgetting something.

Neville adds a little more dragon dung to his fluxweed and sprinkles some water on it. He almost always stays after class as long as Professor Sprout allows him to. He truly felt at home here and in his element.

His eyes catch a small book on a desk. Neville looks around, but no one is there, not even Professor Sprout. She must have left for a meeting, or something.

Curiously, he opens the first page and looks for a name so he can return the possession to the owner, but frowns when he sees no name.

Determined to find whose book it is, he begins flipping through the pages. Beautiful drawings of several plants, creatures, and potions litter the pages and he stares at them in awe.

When he flips the page again, he expects to see another picture of something magical, but he gasps when he sees a drawing that looks like a mirror image of himself tending to his fluxweed plant.

Before he can marvel in the image, the loud sound of a greenhouse door closing snaps him out of his thoughts.

“What are you doing with my book?” you demand, face paling when you see the picture you drew of Neville.

His face turns bright red. “Nothing! I swear, I was just looking for a name so I could return it!”

Tears form in your eyes as you stride over and rip the book out of his hands. You run your fingers over the leather cover slowly.

Before Neville can stutter out an apology, you speak first. “I bet you think I’m some sort of weirdo now, huh?”

When he looks at you, he expects you to be somewhat angry and cold. He’s surprised when he sees your face flushed as deep as his is.

“N-No, I don’t think you’re weird Y/N.”

His answer isn’t what you’d thought it be. You bravely link your eyes with his.

“In fact, I think you’re bloody brilliant. Those drawings are amazing!” he compliments honestly, smiling.

“T-thank you”, you mutter, your face turning brighter than ever.

It’s silent for a while except for the faint sounds of the mandrakes a few greenhouses over before Neville breaks the silence.

“You know, Y/N, I was wondering if you’d teach me how to draw like that. W-we could grab something to drink at the Three Broomsticks first and then you could teach me–I mean, if that’s okay with you!” Neville’s face is scarlet red as he wrings his hands together.

You can’t help but laugh. “Neville, are you asking me on a date?”

He grins back at you. “I guess I am.”

You look down at your fateful book and can’t help but thank it for getting you and Neville together. “Then it’s a date.”


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Tag List~@imboredsueme @prob8850 @meganegirl19 @lolqueenfoot @princess-of-the-fandoms

2

Prompt:  “Choose me” &  “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.” - Prompt Lists

Tagging: @amarabliss (requester)

“You’re really going to make me pick?” you recoiled in shock, your face falling in disbelief. Sure, you knew Damon had been distancing himself from the rest of your friends of late, but you had never expected this. He wanted to leave Mystic Falls for good, and he wanted you to come with him. Shock turned to anger as you thought over his request. Leaving town was one thing, but never returning? Never getting to see your other friends again? That was just unreasonable. So what if you were closer with him than Stefan or Elena, that didn’t mean you wanted to suddenly live your life without them. Shaking your head in contempt at the very thought, your jaw clenched shut, your hands running through your hair, simply so they could grip onto something.

“Of all the downright crappy things you have done, Damon Salvatore, and let’s be honest here, there have been a lot, I can honestly say I never expected this,” you began to rant, furiously pacing in front of him, your sights on anything but your old friend. “You want me to pick who I remain friends with? How can you possibly think this is ok? How can you think I’d decide to stay your friend when you’re the one giving me an ultimatum!”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Damon scowled, tilting his head in a dramatic matter as his eyes pierced into you with a slight yet cutting glare. “We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

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sad boys | two

Member: Jeon Jungkook x Reader x Park Jimin

Genre: Heavy angst, maybe a bit of fluff? Rebel Jungkook, Fuck Buddy Jimin, Soulmate AU

Word Count: 2,500

A/N: SORRY FOR MY INACTIVITY! My school just started up and let’s just say my mental health hasn’t been the best recently. But thank you all for the likes!

      *Italics in this is a flashback


      They were everywhere. Roses, glass, roses, glass, roses, glass. Him. Bushes of white roses were trapping you, the windows on his quaint little house taunting you, the reflections laughing at you. You stumbled up, grabbing for your throbbing head, making your way down the porch steps. Everything was spinning, screaming, laughing, and you couldn’t grip what was reality. A figure rushed to you, garbled words not registering into your brain. You had guessed it was Jimin, but you waved him off, shaking your head as you stumbled your way to the sidewalk. Your head turned, ears popping, and the boy was staring at you. Clear as day. No blurred lines, no screaming voices. His sad eyes stared at you, widening the slightest. He snapped his head away, staring at the ground. The voices slithered into your head again, and away you walked.

      You made your way home, crouching on the front lawn, trying the make the voices seize. You sat there, cradling yourself, images shooting through your head. You couldn’t take it. It felt like wind was stripping your skin away, yet there was nothing but a calm breeze. It felt like the sun was burning your bones, scorching you from the inside out, but the sun was calmly setting. Everything was spinning, screeching, but in reality it was a mask of suburbia.

      A hand shoved its was through your flying surroundings, then everything stopped. Your hands were inching away from your head, and your eyes focused on the inked hand of the boy. A cigarette was hanging between his lips, a flush on his cheeks, and two bottles of fifteen dollar whiskey in his hands. He really was trying. Before you knew it, he was helping you onto the roof of his house, half a bottle already down your throats. His cigarette was between your lips, the lipstick staining the shitty filter. His back was against the shingles, shirt raised up a bit, scars and scabs on his stomach showing. He was completely shattered. 

      He was a fucked up piece of shit. He knew it, you knew it, everyone probably knew it. There were burns of little circles running up and down his arms, scars on every inch of his body. His hands were giant, tough and callused, yet still so beautiful. His veins were twisting over his arms, dancing under the skin, making murals. His face was so worn, so knowledgeable, and his eyes look like he’s seen everything you’d never want to. But his skin was so soft, so clear, like a baby. He was only a child in a man’s body, his thoughts contradicting to his actions. He wasn’t okay. You knew if anyone asked, his fake smile would fall onto his lips, not reaching his dead eyes, and new scars making their way onto his hips. He would smile and nod, because people like him were always the best liars. People like both of you.

      The liquor was burning your throat, but the relief of booze was washing over you. Heat ran over your body, and the warm buzz made you feel safe. You almost didn’t hear him speak.

      “Daddy’s gone, mommy issues, copes with smokes and whiskey. Y’know kid, you’re kinda like me.” His voice shocks you, the silky sound falling freely from his lips. he sounded like he knew what he was going to say at all times, no hesitation present in his voice at all. You didn’t expect him to sound so much like sweet honey, you expected something like sandpaper, the constant smoke of cigarettes wearing and tearing on his throat. Even your voice had rough edges and cracks every once in a while. He sounded like someone who could lull you to sleep in an instant, no matter the situation. What also shocked you was that he saw right through you.

      “How did you…?”

      A small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes placed itself on his face. “Your eyes tell a story.” When was he looking at my eyes? “You aren’t okay. People are terrible for thinking you are.” Okay, so he was more observant than you thought. You didn’t know what you were doing. Sitting on your soulmate’s roof, chugging whiskey, not having any intent of touching on the fragile subject.

      “You’re dead.” You could see his slightly puzzled look from the corner of your eyes, and you had to admit, it wasn’t the best choice of words. “I mean you were. In your past life. You stabbed your throat with a mirror and made me watch.” As the words left your mouth, more and more images crashed into your mind, drowning out anything else. Your head fell to your hands, your fingers curling around your hair, tugging at the roots. You didn’t know how to cope. How could he? He was the one who put you through this. He killed himself. And you hated how terrible it made you feel. You didn’t know him.

      No one did.

      In an instant you were pulled into his arms, scarred and inked. You didn’t realize that you were shaking, and that silent sobs were racking through your body. how did you have this level of attachment to a boy you just met? You hadn’t cried this hard ever. Not even when you walked in on your mom tying a noose.

      His burnt hands caressed your tear doused cheeks, rough finger pads wiping your tears away. He was enough to make you feel safe, enough to get you to quiet down with the small shushes he gave you. his lips were pressed against your temple, softer than flower petals. Your eyes were screwed shuts, your hands holding his collar with a vice grip. you had no idea where this tidal wave of emotion came from, but it felt so good to have someone to hold onto. Arms that would hold you tight, a shoulder to cry on, and lips that would kiss the pain away. You felt like every part of you just ran to him, letting yourself get encased by his being. He held you on his lap for god knows how long, to the point where the only light source was the sliver of a moon and the billions of stars. His heart beat was soothing, the pace never changing, and the rise and fall of his chest was carrying you away from the world, letting you sleep. He laid down, keeping you on his chest, singing with the voice of an angel. it was quiet, almost silent, some words cracking from the strain on his voice, but it was absolutely perfect.

      If I told you that I loved you

      Tell me, what would you say?

      If I told you that I hated you 

      Would you go away?

      Now I need your help with everything that I do

      I don’t wanna lie, I’ve been relying on you.

      Fallin’ again, I need a pick-me-up

      I’ve been callin’ you friend, I might need to give it up

      I’m sick, and I’m tired too

      I can admit, I am not fire-proof…

      That’s all you heard from there on, sleep taking over your body. That was the best sleep of your life.


      You woke up in a unfamiliar bed, in unfamiliar clothes, but a hangover that you’ve gotten used to. The floorboards were glossed over, the walls were light blue, the sheets matched, and nothing looked like complete shit. You were curled up in something that felt so luxurious, when only then did you notice it was a comforter and the arms of the boy. I don’t even know his name and he knows everything about me. Jimin doesn’t know this shit. You had dreamt of the boy, but only more pure. A real boy. No scars, no black lungs, no fucked up liver, no sadness. The morning light shone on him, and he looked so innocent. You two were walking down a gravel road, you with a scraped knee, and sticks in both of your hands as you swatted at rocks. You two looked so young. 


      “Hey look! A toad!” 

      It was a bright, sunny morning in the small town you both lived in. You had discovered this little boy, with raven black hair and wide eyes while you were chasing after a butterfly a few months ago. He had the purest of faces, his eyes hidden from the rest of the world for his entire life. He had a yellow shirt on today, now covered in mud from your explorations, and overalls covering his legs. His new blue suede shoes got scuffed and dirty, but nothing a little rub from your shirt couldn’t fix. You Had a pale pink tee-shirt on, blue jeans, and old white tennis shoes on your feet. he hadn’t met a girl like you before - daring, fun, boyish. he was used to seeing girls with pigtails and pink bows, Mary Janes and white socks with little bows on them, and a pink dress. They would scream if he brought a worm near them, and would rather play house in the loft than blocks with him and his friends. You through, you were quite the sight to him. You weren’t afraid to get muddy, you would put bugs on your nose, and you would jump into the puddles with your hand in his. He liked to think about your long hair that covered your eyes, and the loud laugh that left your lips when you tripped.

      He had walked all the way down the road to see you today, the two of you venturing off to swim in your pond. His lab was trailing behind you two, too caught up in trying to eat flies to keep up. You both made it there, hopping through the tall grass and throwing off your shoes and socks, jumping right into the muddy water. Little fish nipped at your toes while frogs hopped over to see what all the commotion was, and turtles poked their heads out of the water to watch the young lovers play. Neither of you knew what soulmates were, neither of you knew that it was even possible, and neither of you thought it was possible to love the other. You both thought that love was “icky” and “gross”, and if any of the girls teased you two at school, you’d both pout ad say that, “Ewwww! That’s gross!” You two were just best friends, and you thought everyone felt like you did towards each other. You would say that every boy had cooties, except him. If he kissed you on your mud-covered cheek, you would break out into a gigantic grin and giggle. When you hugged him every time you saw him, his heart would beat faster and louder, and his smile would shine brighter than the sun.

      You both walked back to his house, his mother laughing when he saw how muddy the two of you were. She cleaned you both up, and sent him to walk you back home. You got to your front porch, smiling when you turned to face him with his head down, toeing the walkway with his shoes. Before you could say anything, his head shot up and pressed his lips against yours. You both stood there, hand in hand, cheeks as red as the poppies in the pots on the edge of your porch. He broke away and placed a white rose in your hair, the thorns all gone from his nervous fidgeting.

      “I saw mommy and daddy do that yesterday. They said people who love each other do that.”

      Your arms pulled him to you, your face hiding in his hair. Your muffled voice made you both grin wider than every before:

      “I love you Kookie.” 

     “I love you too (Y/N).”


      You were brought back to reality with tears in your eyes, streams already down the sides of your face, falling onto the shirt that belonged to him. You wondered why he had a life like this now, what he did to deserve any of this.

      “Kookie.”

      You voice was broken and careful, the sound barely making it’s way out of your throat. That was the first life you had ever lived. And obviously the best.

      His eyes shot wide open, the orbs almost looking the same as your past life. Almost. Sadness never fades.

      His words seemed to be caught in his throat, and instead of saying anything else, he crashed his lips on yours, holding you tighter against him. you felt a drop of wetness against your cheek, and your hands flew up to his face.

      You broke away from him, cradling his beautiful face in your shaking hands. “Please don’t cry.” His words came out as a shattered whisper, the sound only making you cry more.

      You both stayed like that into the afternoon, his hands running up and down your glass figure. He made you feel all these things, and you didn’t know if it was real or not. You were a flower, fragile and soft, beautiful if cared for. But in a single touch, you could break and wilt, and everyone loses interest in you. You were long gone by now, you had nothing that made you, you. You were a shell of a person, empty, with nothing left. You had skin and bones, but nothing that made you special. Then he came, filling you up to the brim with all these things that you didn’t know were even possible. Happiness? You didn’t know that. A will to live? Passion? Love? He made you his, he made you your own person. You were no longer an empty object with two legs and an occasionally working brain, you were you. (Y/N) (L/N). You hadn’t loved your name as much as you did now. You didn’t know how you felt about all these things, you didn’t know how you felt about him. One look at him and your voice is long gone, tears already welling up in your porcelain eyes.

      Your hands traced his scarred arms and legs, feeling the gauze taped onto his thighs, the scabbed cuts on his waist. Tears stormed down your face, waves and waves, silent cries leaving your lips that felt so nice, memories of his covering yours like a blanket, keeping you safe from the outside world. His hands were moving to your sides, your thighs, feeling the band-aids placed everywhere. He could already feel them on you ankle, and his face softened. You weren’t aware of the fact that he was indeed awake until his finger pressed roughly against a too fresh wound. A dry cry left you, your fingers gripping onto his skin, the feeling of blood making its way from the bandage.

      “Don’t ever let me catch you with more of these.”

      He kissed you like you were his world, his everything and nothing, his rise and his fall.

      And you were.

TKST PREVIEW - Chapter 3

A/N: here’s almost 300 words of chapter 3! just because i love y'all. 

“You don’t just drive across town to bring someone pizza and not expect to get a slice,” you quip, quirking an eyebrow, because there’s no way he drove all the way here just to see you for five seconds to give you a free pie.

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Persephone {pt.3}

Type: Miniseries Continuation; 7th Sense | One | Two | Three | Four  | Five (FINAL) |
Genre: Drama, Fantasy, Fluff, Suggestive (NO SMUT), Demon!AU, Witch!AU
Member: Joshua/Jisoo
Word count: 3,023
A/N: This is such a messy chapter *sigh*
©


You sat on the edge of the white bathtub, watching hot water flow through the faucet and slowly fill the tub. Threads of mist weave into the air above, occasionally kissing the surface of your neck. Your shoulders shrug as a shiver runs down your spine, reminiscent of a rather intimate morning. Surprisingly, he left no marks considering the time he spent on your neck and shoulders. You rub your neck, trying to rid of the phantom feeling of Joshua’s lips and teeth nipping all over your skin.

You yearn to see him again. Unlike your usual anticipation, you were feeling rather impatient this time. You wish to feel his arms around you, his fingertips occasionally slipping up your shirt and brushing your bare back. You wanted his face buried into your neck, lips latched onto your skin and his breaths brushing just along your jawline. You blush from the feeling of his chest pressed against yours, caving in and out with each drawn breath.

Enough.

You shake your head. You shouldn’t have been dazing off about him during a chore. Thinking about Joshua was making you careless. The headmistress would be furious if she knew you were lagging behind on your task.

You turn off the faucet before pacing out of the bathroom and down the hallway that leads to the headmistress’ bedroom.

“Madam,” you called as you gently knock on her door. You crack the door open and peek in.

“Your bath is…ready…”

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Love It Gone

Writer - Aingeal

Pairing - Dean x Reader

Summary - Laying in bed with Dean after a hunt, the reader can’t sleep. After sitting outside in the rain for a little while, Dean joins her & offers to help her ease some of her stress.

Word Count - 1,423

Warnings - Implied smut, Some angst, Some fluff, Talking of feeling depressed/feeling like a failure.
(If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)

A/N - Based on the songs Love It Gone & Strip It Down

Story:

After tossing and turning quietly for the last half hour, I couldn’t take it anymore. I glanced at the empty bed across from me, and debated moving over so I didn’t risking waking up Dean, but I knew Sam would be back eventually. Dean and I weren’t together in that sense, though I won’t deny I’d thought about it, but we always shared a bed when we were out on a hunt, or crashing somewhere. It’s been the norm for as long as I can remember. Even when Dean and I would hunt alone, we’d always share a bed.

Not that I wouldn’t sleep next to Sam, but he and I are strictly friends and I don’t want anything to ruin that relationship. And it’s not done to save someone from having to sleep on a couch, in a chair or in the car, but rather because something about being wrapped in Dean’s arms made everything in the world seem okay, if even just for those brief few hours that we slept. I never told him that reason of course, it was my little secret. As far as he knew, it was just because I didn’t feel comfortable sleeping with Sam.

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anonymous asked:

Yo! Please can you do a little scenario with Blitzwing from Transformers Animated? One where he has a romantic partner who is pretty laid back but always tries their best to make him happy, especially when he is stressed?

I can!

Monday

    Blitzwing clomped into the warehouse, tired and sore. It’d been a long day of fighting to fly in a straight line. The only thing on his overworked mind was a long stasis nap. The slab in the corner looked oh-so-welcoming, thanks to you. You’d cleaned it with the discipline of a Spartan until it sparkled with the light from the moon, peaking in from the small skylight above.

Tuesday

    Hothead reached around his back, and over his shoulders, trying desperately to reach the tangled cords under his plates. You, seeing that he was getting nowhere, swooped in, and told him to stop moving. He complied after the third time you’d asked him, and held still while you reached under his plating, and adjusted his wires. His shoulders sagged with relief, and content.

Wednesday

    Nothing too eventful had happened that day. Things were going well for the Deceptions, and though he knew that could change in a second, he couldn’t help but feel on top of the world. The raisin at the end of the hot dog was when he found fresh motor oil waiting for him by his door. There is only one person that would care enough about him to leave him this.

Thursday

    The cold night had prompted you to hold tight to Blitzwing as he slept, the sound of his processor humming bringing a sense of peace into your mind, and drowning out all the thoughts keeping you from sleeping. Blitzwing opened up one scarlet eye, just as you drifted off. He’d asked you to stay with him, and you had, despite your fears of being crushed. It was a small gesture, but one that showed how big a space he held in your heart.

Friday

     The week had started off like crap, and that’s how it looked to be ending. That was the last time he was going to be squished by Lugnut. That bumbling idiot can’t tell his tailpipe from his command module. He knew Lugnut wouldn’t be able to lead any group amount the Deceptions effectively, and the weight of the responsibility that would fall to him was heavier on his shoulders than Lugnut had ever been. That’s when he thought of you, and everything you’d done for him. Even when you don’t lift a finger, you still lift his spark up, and make his world a little brighter.