faster dammit

vianna-orchidia asked: how about sensei!dazai and student!chuuya? or the opposite xD

i can see dazai as the eccentric but really good kind of teacher and chuuya as a sort of quiet foreign student still trying to adjust

Someone to Stay - AU

Previous Chapters

Chapter 11

“Faster.”

“I can’t.”

“Dammit, Joe!” Claire slammed her fists on the dashboard.

“LJ, there’s a speed limit. Your plane isn’t leaving any earlier than scheduled. Calm down!”

Claire sighed and fumed, curling up in the passenger seat. She drummed her fingers against the window until another murderous look from Joe made her stop with a huff.

As soon as she had realized her mistake, she was on Joe’s phone, dialing Jamie from memory. But it had gone straight to voicemail. Joe had plucked his mobile from Claire’s hands before she could hurl it against the wall too.

He had dialed Jenny’s number instead, and put Claire on immediately.

“Jenny? Oh God, I’m an idiot, I’m so sorry—”

“It doesna matter. It will work out,” Jenny said gently. “Right now, though, I need ye to get on a plane to Edinburgh. I’ve left an open ticket for ye at Gatwick, so please come as soon as ye can. Jamie’s back since yesterday, and he’s a mess.”

“So am I,” Claire gulped.

“He needs ye, Claire. As I’m sure ye need him” Jenny’s voice had gone quiet, and Claire had snapped out of her funk, racing to her room to pack.

“I’m on my way.”

*

The stupid train was faster than driving, she reminded herself, as it sped across the Scottish countryside.

From Inverness, she called Jenny from her new burner phone to be picked up. Then to Lallybroch. And Jamie.

As the driver Jenny had sent parked in front of the manor house, Claire jumped out, feet pounding on the gravel. Jenny threw open the kitchen door and embraced her fiercely. With a simple, “Go!” Claire bolted up the stairs. Closer.

Heart pounding, Claire knocked on the door to Jamie’s room. She could hear the strumming of his guitar, which didn’t stop, and then his voice called out.

“Jenny, go away.” Dejected, forlorn.

Claire swallowed hard. “It isn’t Jenny. It’s me, Claire.”

The guitar twanged abruptly. Footsteps and a pause.

“Sassenach—”

“May I come in?”

A beat. Two beats.

Claire fully expected him to tell her to go away too. She turned to oblige before he could do so, heart in her mouth, tears stinging.

Then a flurry of activity, trampling sounds, a couple of shits thrown in for good measure. And finally, a click and twist and the door swung open.

His eyes were bright as he looked at her, fingers gripping the door. Claire looked up at him through her eyelashes, unsure of where to begin. But at the beginning seemed best.

“I’m sorry. I believe you. I saw the picture. Joe and Jenny and…” Claire sighed, frustrated with her incoherence. “I looked closer. I noticed the ring. I’m here.”

Without warning, she found herself crushed against Jamie’s chest, and her hands clutching at him equally as tight.

“Claire, mo nighean donn, I’m sorry too. When Murtagh showed me the paper, I flew back to London. I knew it would be a blow, despite the lie.” Jamie brought her into the room and shut the door behind them.

They still hadn’t released each other. Jamie stepped back briefly, brushing Claire’s wild curls away from her face as she shook her head and laughed in relief—sweet sweet relief that flooded through her and wiped away all doubts.

Tha gaol agam ort?” she whispered, her own hands tangled in his hair.

Jamie smiled. “Always.”

*

“Thank you Edinburgh!” The answering clamor was deafening.

Claire grinned broadly from the wings, clapping her hands along with the crowd. The venue lights dimmed suddenly to blue. The backdrop of Edinburgh Castle was spectacular, the esplanade packed with fans all the way to the top tiers of the grandstands.

“Thank you, everyone.” Jamie took a seat on a stool and palmed a beautiful Gibson acoustic, with a tortoiseshell inlay that Claire had given him for his birthday. He laid it across his lap and touched the strings slowly. He managed to catch her eye and winked in his usual fashion – more like a nodding blink.

Claire laughed and blew him a kiss, as he turned to the audience and said, “This one is new. It goes out to the love of my life.”

He strummed out the intro chords, and sang.

Falling doesn’t come easy
It all takes time
To give someone your heart
I saw the walls, began to climb

You only wanted someone to stay
To be there for you
To hold you close and say
I won’t let go
I promise I’ll be
Someone to stay

Jamie rose suddenly as Willie took over with another guitar, keeping the same riff going over and over. Jamie walked purposefully towards Claire, and before she knew it, he had pulled her onstage in front of thousands of people.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, her face flaming crimson.

“Claire.” Her hands, which had been tugging his so she could get away, stilled at his tone. He was still wired to a mic, and her name reverberated over the grounds. She stared into the deep azure, made bluer by the artificial lights.

And then he went down on one knee.

The crowd went wild, but to Claire it sounded as though the roar came from underwater. Her eyes were on his and couldn’t look away. Not even as turned the palm of her hand so he could place the cabochon ruby ring into it.

“Claire… Sassenach… I want to be someone to stay. Will ye let me? Will ye marry me?”

*

The roiling of her stomach and whirling in her head had her racing for the bathroom in the small hours of the morning. The sounds of her retching and the splash in the toilet bowl had Jamie padding barefoot over to Claire as he held her hair back.

“Sassenach, I’m sorry you’re unwell.” He smoothed a hand across her forehead, which felt clammy and cold.

“Stupid bloody sushi. Let’s never—” Claire’s moans were cut off in a fresh wave of nausea.

“I’m throwing the takeout menu out. Dinna fash.” Jamie helped her up. She rinsed out her mouth and pressed a damp towel to her face.

“I have class today. I can’t make it, though.” Claire stumbled back to the bed, kicking the comforter away in her flushed state. “I’ll text Louise.” She groaned into the pillow, but felt mildly better after expelling the contents of her stomach.

“It isnae catching, love?” Jamie sat beside her and patted her back gently; she curled up on her side and took deep breaths.

“I don’t think so. You go on ahead. I’ll call you later.” The soothing motions of Jamie’s hand on her back had lulled her halfway to sleep again.

“I’ll call you,” he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Rest easy, Sassenach. I love ye.”

“I love you more,” Claire mumbled into the bed.

It was only hours later when she woke up that she realized: she was sick in the mornings. She was sleepy all the time. She did some backwards counting and discovered she was also late.

After almost two years of trying, she needed a pregnancy test.

*

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”

Claire smiled at Jamie, who beamed back as they held hands. They could hear a murmur of approval behind them as their nearest and dearest were gathered behind them in the church pews to witness their union.

“To help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity…”

All the band members were there with their families. Rupert and Geillis were there as a couple too, and all of Jenny and Ian’s bairns. The church was redolent with flowers, and flickering candlelight everywhere.

“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.”

Ian Murray stood as best man, and held a black velvet box with their rings in it. For Jamie, a simple white-gold band he could easily play guitar with. For Claire, a silver ring with an intricate Highland pattern of Scottish thistles.

They left the church amidst a shower of rice and a chorus of well-wishers, to a beautiful reception at Lallybroch and a Mediterranean honeymoon.

*

Claire waited anxiously in their bedroom as she heard the key turn in the lock. She heard Jamie close the door behind him and open the fridge. A clinking of bottles as he found the champagne.

“Sassenach?”

Claire stifled a giggle, but did not answer. She heard his footsteps head in her direction and then stop abruptly.

First, the Gibson guitar with a handwritten note on it that read “1979”.  She had set it on the floor between the kitchen and the living room.

She fought the urge to peek. Jamie walked on, his tread easily recognizable. Then it stopped again, right outside their bedroom. Lying there was the stethoscope he had given her after she had passed her medical school finals. Alongside it was another note that read “1981”.

“Oh, God.” Jamie’s voice was muffled behind the door, and Claire couldn’t resist.

“Jamie?”

The door opened and finally, he saw her. Standing in the middle of the room, holding the last of the notes. This one had a purple question mark drawn on it, and “2018” printed beneath it.

“’Tis true?” Jamie’s smile was blinding as he knelt in front of Claire, reaching out to her. His arms went around her legs and his face pressed against her still-flat belly. Her own hands brushed back his hair, and she caught the trickle of a tear sliding down his cheek.

“Are you happy, Jamie?” A knot in her throat made the words come out in a whisper. Jamie raised his head to look up at her. His eyes were radiant, and he placed a kiss on her stomach.

“I’m verra happy, Sassenach.” He smoothed her blouse over the invisible bump reverently. “Och, lad—or lass—” he added, with a smile in his voice, “we canna wait to meet ye. I’m yer Da.” Jamie cleared his throat. “Ye ken yer mam already, I’m sure. She’s a lady of grace, a woman of strength, a doctor and an astonishing beauty. She’s yer mam, Claire Fraser.”

*

FIN

The Road to Heaven is in the Arms of a Winchester

Characters: Reader Insert, Sam, Dean, Castiel

Wordcount: 1500

Warnings: Death, angst

Summary: The reader gets hurt on a hunt. Will she get help in time?

A/N: @trexrambling  requested, “Option A: He knew she was safe, and that was the only thing that mattered. OR Option B: All the words had been said, and now there was only a deep, aching silence.” I hope this does the trick :)

Originally posted by princesscas

The hunt was never supposed to end this way.

The world around you felt muted—you were barely aware of the light, warm trickle from your nostril, the cold wind coming in from the broken window, your various bruises and lacerations from the fight, or the splintered wood floor upon which you’d fallen to your knees.

You always got back up from being thrown, even when you hit your head so hard you saw stars in your eyes, or momentarily lost the ability to hear. No matter what, you always stood back up and didn’t fall back down.

Not this time.

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A hazard of the job

Jason X reader ft. Batfam
Description: reader is fatally hurt on a mission and still has to get the team out of the situation. Requested.
A/n: I decided I’m going to write for Jason b/c he’s awesome. Part 2 of a daughters burden and part 5 of the strongest Talon, should be out soon.
************

“Y/sh/n, get out of there it’s a trap!” Tim shouted through the comms. You and the family had gotten an alert that there were hostages at a warehouse near the docks. It had seemed simple at first. Get in, get the hostages safe, get out.

It was easier said than done.

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i'm back whoops (part two of mitjo ghost au)

Submitted by @captainredd

Run. I was in the woods again. The trees leaning over twisted distorted far more then anything else. The wailing sirens from the car pounding into my skull until it sounded like screaming, maybe that was me screaming. Run. Thickets scraped my knees and branches pulled at my clothes. My feet felt like led and my lungs burned but I still couldn’t stop. I didn’t dare turn around. Run faster. God dammit run faster! I was slowing down. No that wasn’t right I was still running at the same pace. But the world around me was speeding up. The siren whirling, the sky changing over and over night and day. All the voices getting closer now so morphed together it was like a hideous wave of collapsing voices begging to be heard. Run! God run Jonas you insufferable bastard can’t you run any fas- a branch caught my foot and fell.

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Agents Emrys & King, from the wonderful series “A.S.S. (Agents of Secret Stuff)” by supercalvin :) It’s hilarious; 100% recommend if you’re in the mood for a fun, (kinda) crack-y read!

kacchako intensifies
  • imagine sleepy ochako crawling out of bed and sleepy bakugou instinctively grabbing onto her waist so she can’t leave
  • imagine ochako brushing her teeth while bakugou shaves in the morning
  • ochako using bakugou’s clothes as pj's because they are comfier even though she complains that they smell like barbeque all the time
  • his favorite shirt is a gag gift from her that reads “KING OF EXPLODOKILLS
  • ochako making bakugou go water her plants and all she can hear from the bathroom is “GROW FASTER DAMMIT
  • bakugou refusing to wear more than shorts/sweats/boxers at home
  • ochako not complaining
  • even though bakugou is particularly moody in the morning she always gives him a good morning peck
  • he will never in a million years admit that that is the best part of his day
  • imagine them going to the grocery store and getting in trouble because they like to wheel each other around in the shopping cart
  • at dinner time, bakugou and ochako race each other to see who can chop veggies the fastest
  •  ochako likes to say grace before she eats but bakugou is super impatient so she kicks him hard under the table to keep him from eating until the prayer is done
  • they also race to see who can clean dishes the fastest (the loser has to take out the garbage)
  • bakugou is a night showerer and he will always secretly use ochako’s vanilla bean shower gel because he likes the smell
  • imagine them lying in bed and one of them is like “you awake?” “yeah” “wanna make pancakes” “fuck yeah
  • always trying to make pancake art but it always turns out badly
  • after they are stuffed with their snacks, they go back to bed and talk until one of them falls asleep
  • “yo what if aliens exist” “id’ take over the ship and go to space, duh” “what’re you doing to do? fucking send me a post card once in a while?” “no, you idiot, i’m taking you with me”
  • “you know the zombie apocalypse?” “ya” “do you think you could survive?” “of course–who the fuck do you think I am?” “but what if, instead of zombies, people turned into deku?” “shut up and go to sleep already”
  • they both sleep like freaking starfish like it’s a competition to see who can take up the most room on the mattress
  • even though bakugou is basically a human furnace he always hogs the blankets and they will literally fight in their sleep for the covers
  • imagine him waking up a bit earlier than her and just feeling really protective and proud of her
  • imagine him thinking she’s asleep still so he starts talking to himself
  • “i’m so fucking lucky.” “what was that?” “NOTHING.”

Deep Dark ft. Sehun: FINALE. WARNING: There are themes in this series (such as depression) that may trigger unpleasant memories or feelings, please read at your own discretion. Hecka fluff this chapter. Sorry for the late update, and I’m also ending this series a chapter early because I feel this ending is appropriate… QUQ
———————————————————————————————————————

() I want to make you feel beautiful. I know I tend to get so insecure; it doesn’t matter anymore.

Because you two have been turning in outstanding work for the past month, your professor makes the special exception of letting you turn in late work. The homework you two put off last night was now due the next day, which you two gratefully took advantage of.

That night, after evening lecture, you two set off for the hill where you first met. Your heart beat curiously, because even though you finally have an assignment where you’re required to look at the stars, they’re not out tonight. Yet, Sehun seemed giddy to bring you out anyways, lugging his telescope along with a giant grin on his face.

At the top of the hill, you cross your arms and sigh. “The stars aren’t out tonight..” You mumble disappointedly, yet Sehun still sets up his grandiose telescope on the grassy hill. Bewildered, you watch as he tilts the scope up, towards the clouded sky.

“It’s dark.” He agrees, turning to look at you with a small smile. “But the stars are still out, look.” He motions for you to peek through the device. You know you’ll see nothing, but decide to humor him and lean down to look through it.

Just as you assumed, you saw nothing but a deep darkness. Pulling away, you gander at him. “There’s nothing there.” You state the pure obvious.

But he grins at you, stepping closer and cupping your cheeks and your hair. You gasp, heat pumping through your veins as he leans down, so close, and whispers to you.

“You’re a thief, Starlight,” He accuses you, staring into your eyes with wonder. “I don’t even need my telescope anymore.” Confused, but speechless, you do nothing but stand there, gaping at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know when you did it, but..” When he smiles again, you release a small sigh in awe. “All of the stars are in your eyes now.”

The moment seems too surreal. Sure, you two accidentally fell asleep together and shared a kiss, but both of those times didn’t count in your book. The kiss was during both of your emotionally unbalanced breakdowns, and after you both woke up this morning you frantically got ready for the day without having any time to cuddle.

But now, with nothing to put the blame on, his proximity makes your entire face heat up and your heart beat faster. Then, after a brief moment, his smile changes, and he says, “But, I’m not good enough to see something so beautiful,” and looks away with an ironic smirk.

Deja vu hits you like a bullet, to the moment you first met on this hill. Without a good reason, you start tearing up. “You’re an idiot.” You say breathlessly, hugging him tightly. He hugs you back, tilting to one side slightly before moving to the other. You remember saying those exact words to him about the real stars… how can he turn it around so wonderfully and make it something to laugh at?

“I’m really do like you, Starlight,” He whispers, kissing your hair and saying, “And I’ll tell you over and over again until we’re both healed.” You know he’s talking about your depression, and with a sudden wave of sadness, you whisper, “What about after?” He hums, pretending to think it over before telling you, “When that happens, then I’ll start saying that I’m in LOVE with you.” He pulls away to see your reaction, grinning when you open your mouth in shock. “How does that sound?” He teases, poking your cheek.

“It sounds unreal!” You laugh, pushing him away lightly and sitting down on the earthy grass. It’s only been a little over four weeks… has that much really changed in your life? You’re still not sure what you’re going to do with your future, or the present, if you’re being frank. Yet, you don’t feel the same anxiety about it that you did before. Somehow, you know you’ll be alright.

After a while, Sehun takes a seat next to you, then lies on his back and sighs. “Put the stars back whenever you’re ready. We have homework to do.” He says, glancing at you impishly and making you roll your eyes.

“When did your humor become so corny?” You ask him dryly, turning on your side and snuggling against him. He lifts your head and puts it on his arm before wrapping it around you, pulling you closer and making your heart beat faster than necessary (dammit).

“Since I started liking you.” He replies bluntly, sounding completely unabashed and making you even more flustered. “When did you steal the stars? Huh?” He chuckles when you smack his stomach lightly, before tilting his head to look you in the eye.

He says nothing, yet stares, smiling to himself like you wouldn’t notice (or care). You know what he’s thinking, too; it’s so obvious; it’s in his eyes. He likes you. He likes you a lot, and he doesn’t know how to stop and doesn’t want to.

This close, you push aside your insecurities and fears. You pucker your lips and peck his smiling ones, which only makes them stretch wider.

“Do that again.” He murmurs.

And you do.

(Deep Dark… END)

(THIS S MY FIRST TIME SERIOUSLY WRITING SMUT SO IM SORRY IF THE SMUT PART IS BAD. LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKE IT OR DONT, IDC IF ITS ON ANON OR NOT)

“Stop it”, Neymar huffed.

“I’m just kissing your neck baby chill”, I said adjusting myself on his lap.

“I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not gonna work. The doctor said no strenuous activity for a while, which means no sex”, he slid me off his lap and got off the couch.

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Bananun FanFiction - Give and Take

A few of you have asked for Bananun smut. Here we go!

Rated M

Mary Eunice’s ears perked as she stepped into her and Lana’s foyers, Apollyon panting besides her, winded from their run. She unhooked the leash from the dog’s collar and pushed him out of the way as she struggled with her running shoes. He nibbled her knee affectionatly and trotted away, tail wagging high in the air. She watched him with wonder in her golden eyes.

Another groan pulled her out of her reverie, and she smirked. Even from here (She did know everything, after all) she could tell that Lana Winters just hadn’t been able to wait for her. The blonde made her way up the stairs carefully, pausing to relish the sounds falling from between her lover’s lips, the soft gasps and pants.

The brunette had left their bedroom door open, almost like an invitation, but the dark eyed woman’s fingers stilled as Mary Eunice entered. For a split second, she stared back at the nun unabashedly, but finally she looked away guiltily, her hand trailing back up her stomach, her thighs closing.

“Looks like you started without me.” The blonde breathed. Lana didn’t answer, her nails digging into the flesh along her ribcage, her hips rolling despite the lack of stimulation. Mary Eunice let her jacket fall from her finger and down onto the floor before moving to the desk chair and sitting down. She crossed her legs and raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at her lips. “Please. Don’t let me stop you.”

Lana’s thighs opened and her hand shot down to her center, rubbing furiously as she chased the high she’d just lost. Another moan ripped out of her throat as she found it. It sent a shiver down the blonde’s spine. Slowly, Lana turned her head to gaze at Mary Eunice.

Her dark eyes, black with lust, bore into the blonde’s golden ones as her breathing began a wild pattern of gasps and rushes of air. “I’m surprised y-you don’t mind.” She managed to stammer, her back arching off the mattress, heels digging into the sheets. 

“Why would I mind watching you writhe and gasp while thinking of me?” Mary Eunice cocked her head to the side. “If I ever do, you’ll know something is wrong.” She sat on the edge of the chair, her fingernails making marks into the skin on her knee. “Scream my name, little devil.”

The brunette’s eyes closed at the request, her hips bucking into her own touch as her fingers flew faster. “Dammit Mary.”

“Just like that. Even when it’s not me touching you, even when it’s not me whispering in your ear-” The blonde had stood up and had slinked over stand at edge of the bed, fingers itching to touch the ivory skin in front of her. “-Even then you’re mine.” Lana shuddered and she threw her head back, her breath hitching in the back of her throat.

“You’re mine, Lana Winters.” Mary Eunice repeated.

“All yours.” The brunette echoed through clenched teeth. It took her but another few seconds to come, thighs clenching around her own hand as she hissed out Mary’s name over and over, tremors shaking her body from her head to her toes. The blonde watched avidly from above.

The nun licked her lips hungrily and parted Lana’s thighs aggressively, dipping her head down to get a taste of her lover. The brunette tried to push her away, not ready for the blonde’s assault, but Mary Eunice ignored her, tongue swiping between Lana’s folds, lapping furiously. She tasted like candy and sins and the blonde couldn’t get enough, she never could. 

She easily sent the reporter into another orgasm, one that had the brunette’s hand in her hair and tugging for dear life.

Lana fell back against the mattress, spent, her fingers shifting through Mary Eunice’s hair. “Oh Jesus Christ almighty.”

The blonde bit her inner thigh, none too lightly. “What have I told you about that?”

Lana groaned, scrambling to get away from Mary Eunice’s wandering hands. The nun followed her up and kissed her sweetly, tongue darting into her mouth, letting the brunette taste herself. Lana’s fingers suddenly grabbed onto the blonde’s hips, effectively shimmying her dress up.

“What are you-hmm-doing?” Mary Eunice asked, lost against the brunette’s lips.

“I’m going to make love to you. It’s been a while.” Lana replied easily.

“You know how I feel about that.”

“I do. And I don’t care.” The reporter cocked her head to the side. She added a quiet “I love you.” before kissing Mary Eunice again, softer this time, putting as much emotion into the touch as she had behind her words. The blonde let herself be pulled down onto the bed to look up at Lana.

The brunette smiled down at her and helped her out of her dress, leaving her in her underwear. Her mouth trailed from her jaw to her collarbone, sucking at the skin to be found there as her hand cupped a bra-clad breast. Mary Eunice shifted against her, hips rising on their own, silently begging Lana for something she didn’t know she wanted so badly.

They’d made love plenty of times before, they’d fucked just as much, but Mary Eunice hated giving over her power. About as much as Lana loved taking it.

“Relax, Mary.” Lana sighed against her skin, short nails dragging down her taut stomach. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, of course.” Mary Eunice snapped. “That’s a stupid question-”

“Don’t.”

“Sorry.” The blonde squirmed. Lana smiled against her hips, placing another kiss there, leaving a mark that quickly turned into a hickey.

The brunette helped Mary Eunice out of her blood red panties, fingers wandering up and down her skin, sending the nun into a fit of shivers. She bucked her hips up, powerful thighs clenching around Lana’s head, and the reporter hadn’t even started yet.

Lana got to work, lazily flicking her tongue over Mary Eunice’s bundle of nerves, settling into an easy pattern that would drive the blonde crazy, but not over the edge. She received her desired effect, Mary Eunice’s left hand settled into her hair and her free fingers scrambled to find Lana’s as she breathed in and out, chest rising and falling almost cautiously.

Mary Eunice wasn’t one to make much noise.

Lana managed to keep the blonde down with one arm draped over her stomach, and so she took the younger woman’s hand in hers, letting the nun squeeze tight as her pleasure built, as her breathing quickened. Sure that she wouldn’t buck too hard, Lana trailed her fingers down to Mary Eunice’s center, introducing two fingers into her.

Mary Eunice breathed in sharply, keening softly despite herself as Lana found a comfortable rhythm against her. The blonde sat up, resting on her elbows, to look into the brunette’s dark eyes, mouth open as she gasped out, hips hitting back against Lana’s thrusts.

The blonde came hard, quietly, back arching off the mattress and into Lana’s touch. She pulled the brunette up to her, kissing her as she tried to get her breath back, her hands running up and down her lover’s body.

Mary Eunice moaned as she finished trembling against the reporter, her baby blue eyes looking up in wonder at Lana before steadily darkening back to gold.

Intrusion

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: angst/romance (NSFW)  YOONGI X GANG BOSS!READER

Chapters: 7

Status: Ongoing

Notes: (( “~~~” stands for time skip))

  “Yoongi never thought he’d get himself into this. It was just a kid, what changed him so much?”

Next chapter | Masterlist


                       CHAPTER 1          


Keep going.

  On a chilly night in Seoul, the boys thought it would be nice to go out to a karaoke bar and forget about all the stress from their current jobs and of all the drama happening, that is, everyone but Yoongi. 

   If it was up to him, he would’ve stayed home and taken a nice bath with that galaxy bath bomb he bought and the scented candles he got from a co-worker. But since they literally dragged him out of his apartment what was he to do? He could be all pissy and grumpy, but what good would that be for his stress level, so he decided to try to have fun.


Don’t look behind.


  Yoongi thought to himself that he should’ve dressed up a bit more, but since he was being dragged he was only able to grab his leather jacket from the hanger on the door. 

‘I’ll get them next time…I’m not gonna freeze and let them off the hook..fucking assholes’.

  As much as Yoongi would insult them, he really did care a lot about them. He’s known Namjoon since they were kids, they met Jin in their last year of highschool, then in their 2nd year of college they met Hoseok and he introduced them to Jimin and Taehyung, and they met Jungkook through them as well for he worked at a cafe close by. 

   Even if he didn’t know them like he knew Namjoon and Jin, they still felt like brothers to him. Namjoon and him have been in the underground music industry, with Hoseok coming from time to time. His true occupation was a dance teacher at a dance studio with Jimin and Jungkook in his classes. 

  They worked at a cafe with Jin and Taehyung worked as a cashier at a grocery store. They were paid ok, enough to live, so they weren’t complaining.

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(There was a request for bubblegum in my inbox. It took me a bit to think of something but hopefully this counts!)

Kagami knew Aomine was annoying him on purpose. Another loud pop grated on his nerves, his fingertips digging into the orange leather in his hands. He glared over at his boyfriend, seeing through the innocent face he gave him. Aomine had certain days were it seemed he liked to see how far he could rile Kagami up, today being one of them. It had started with him not going fast enough to getting ready for their one-on-one, Kagami having to wait nearly an hour for him to get up and moving. Then Aomine had needed a drink before their game. Could they have just stopped at the nearest convenience store? No, of course not. Aomine wanted a specific drink at a specific type of store, one that was nearly 20 minutes out of their way. He had taken another 20 minutes looking at all the items available, deciding to actually buy a pack of bubblegum instead of the drink they had gone for. Kagami knew he was doing this on purpose; he noticed all the secret smirks Aomine kept showing, even if he was trying to keep them hidden.

They were now walking at an impossibly slow pace that elderly people were passing them and Aomine was popping bubbles loudly, over and over again. Every pop was sharp and right next to Kagami’s ear. Every sound had him jerking and gritting his teeth just a bit harder together, his hands squeezing his basketball so tight he was afraid it might join in on the popping game. Another pop and Kagami nearly screamed in frustration.

“Aomine!! Stop fucking popping that gum and move faster dammit!!”

Lazy blue eyes looked over at him as his jaw moved, a low hum the only answer he got. Kagami glared at him harder, sure steam was coming out of his ears, but his patience was dwindling down to nothing but a thin thread, one Aomine was hell bent on snapping.

“Oi, did you hear what I just said Aho?!”

Aomine shrugged, his only answer another pop from his gum, this time he didn’t bother hiding the smug smirk as Kagami growled in annoyance.

“Daiki, get rid of the gum right now or I’m going to make you get rid of it,” Kagami’s voice was low and threatening, the sound catching his boyfriend’s interest as a sharp eyebrow rose.

“Hnn how are you planning on doing that, Bakagami?”

Kagami didn’t hesitate as he turned into his boyfriend and pushed him into a narrow alleyway. It was all done in one quick, smooth move, one that even caught Aomine off guard, the boy falling against the dark wall in surprise.

“What the hell Taiga?”

Not bothering to answer, Kagami placed both hands on either side of Aomine’s head and leaned into his boyfriend hard, pressing his body tight against him. He knew Aomine could feel every hard inch of him, which is exactly what he wanted. He figured turnabout was fair game, and he was going to make his boyfriend as frustrated as he currently was.

Moving his hands down Aomine’s body, Kagami slowly started circling his hips, grinding achingly slow against Aomine’s crotch. Kagami watched as Aomine’s breathing got heavier, the laziness in his eyelids back, but this time lust was radiating from his pupils instead of teasing. Moving his hands down further, Kagami gripped his boyfriend’s hips and started grinding harder as he moved his face closer, their lips just barely meeting as their hot breath mingled.

“Taiga…” Aomine groaned, his own hands moving back to grip Kagami’s ass.

“Yeah Daiki?”

Another grind had Aomine’s eyes practically rolling back in pleasure, his fingers digging into Kagami’s ass cheeks as he desperately tried to get more friction against his cock.

“More…fuck Taiga, more.”

Kagami jerked his hips against his boyfriend’s, the shout of surprise from Aomine nearly gave them away as Kagami looked towards the street.

“Shhh Daiki. You don’t want us to get caught do you?”

“I don’t give a fuck, just stop teasing and jerk my dick Taiga.”

Kagami couldn’t help but laugh a bit, “Always the smooth talker.”

Growling, Aomine leaned forward as much as he could, his eyes intense as he stared at Kagami, “I don’t give a shit. I just need your damn hand, so hurry up.”

“Ah but I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

That had Aomine staring at Kagami in surprise before he huskily whispered, “Then kiss me.”

Not wasting anytime, Kagami pressed their lips together, his own satisfied groan vibrating from his chest. He had wanted to drag this out, but Aomine was too worked up to remain patient, his lips melding to Kagami’s, forcing them apart and shoving his tongue inside. In the end, it didn’t matter to Kagami, he had needed his boyfriend’s mouth open anyways to accomplish his goal. Allowing Aomine to set the pace, Kagami’s own tongue pushed forward, the feeling of the slick flesh sliding together had both their cocks twitching. Just as Aomine was sliding his hand under the waistband of Kagami’s shorts did Kagami pull away completely.

He watched as his boyfriend slumped against the wall in a lust filled daze, his eyes trying to make sense of what was happening as Kagami stood before him. Kagami watched the moment clarity took over as Aomine’s face scrunched in anger.

“What the fuck Kagami?!”

The only answer Kagami bothered to give was to start moving his jaw, the piece of gum in his mouth still full of flavor. Aomine watched in confusion once again, until Kagami blew a large bubble and popped it. The sound seemed to echo in the alleyway, Aomine’s teeth gritting tight as Kagami smirked.

“I told you Aho. Now let’s go.”

Turning towards the street, Kagami grinned as he popped another bubble, a frustrated growl coming from behind him as Aomine followed close behind.

Never Say Goodbye

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean x Reader; Sam x Reader

Summary: When they can’t score, you’re always there to be their backup, but it’s getting old quick.

Warnings: angst, minor smut in the beginning

Word Count: 2205

Keep reading

A Hunter’s Holiday - Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 2,465

Warnings: kinda angsty, kinda fluffyish

Read Part 1 here! 

A/N: This one is kind of getting away from me. It’s turning out longer than I originally thought. There will be at least one more part. I’m sorry; it’s way past Christmas and we’re not even to the Christmas part yet. Apparently I suck at meeting deadlines. Whoops.  Also, this part is from Dean’s POV. 

Also, thanks to @autoblocked for proofreading this for me. You rock, girl! :) 

Your name: submit What is this?

“She’s just cooling off, man,” Dean said, pretending to read the laptop screen in front of him. “She’ll be back soon.”

“I’m don’t think so, Dean,” replied Sam, lips pouted in a small frown, brows low over his eyes. “I mean, it’s been hours.”

Dean bit his lip, sitting up from his attempt at a relaxed posture on the bed. The truth was he had been worrying about her since she had stormed out and stolen that old truck. He would have walked out there and offered her the Impala, but he thought she might punch him. In any case, he had been sort of proud to watch her hot-wire the truck that fast. He doubted he could do it any faster.

“Dammit, Sammy, where could she have gone?” Dean muttered, frustrated. Sam watched his brother, lips pursing in a thin line.

“I’ve been looking at this map she was working with. Look,” Sam pointed to a spot on the map, holding it up to Dean, who had crossed the room quickly to see it. “She starred both sides of this road. She must have narrowed it down to that area.”

Sam barely had time to grab his jacket and follow Dean out to the car before the Impala was speeding down the highway, the engine’s growl the only sound to keep the Winchesters company on their rescue mission.

In no time, Dean was parking the Impala in the snowy bank across from the warehouse. After taking two machetes from the trunk, Sam and Dean hurried toward the building, blades and flashlights held high.

Dean’s heart had never beat so hard and fast as it did while he crept through those dark hallways with his brother, eager to find Y/N, but terrified of how he would find her. Would he find her bloodied and lifeless on the cold warehouse floor? Or would she be locked in a back room somewhere, either as bait or as the newest member of the nest?

With each step, he felt less and less sure that she was alive. The silence was too loud in his ears. Something had happened here, he knew, but he was scared to discover exactly what.

Just then, Sam and Dean stepped into the large central room. Dean sucked in a breath as he took in the impressive sight of vampire bodies strewn across the blood spattered floor. Heart stuck in his throat, Dean could hardly move, except to let his eyes wander around the room, searching through the bodies for any sign that she was one of them. 

While Dean remained frozen, Sam maneuvered around the room, machete aloft, checking that all the forms were, in fact, dead monsters. He disappeared through a door on the other side of the room as Dean took a step forward, intending to follow his brother, but he couldn’t remove his gaze from the bodies on the floor around him. After a few more moments of gut-wrenching worry, he began to notice how cleanly and thoroughly the vamps’ heads had been separated from their bodies. Hopeful, unexpected awe bubbled in his chest. Had she done all this? Had she completely decimated this nest–all by herself?  

Soon Sam returned, his weapon and flashlight relaxed at his side, his lips in a thin line.

“She’s not here, Dean,” he said, worry creasing his tone, “I don’t know where the hell she went.”

“This must have been her, right?” Dean asked, his voice so quiet Sam could barely hear. “But how in the hell…she’s always been tough, but this…”

“C’mon, Dean,” Sam responded, a note of impatience in his tone. “We’ve gotta find her. She could be hurt or–something.” Both of the brothers chose to ignore his pause, knowing perfectly well what that ‘something’ was. His words seem to shock Dean awake, however, as he took off running through the warehouse hallways, Sam on his heels.

Dean’s foot never left the gas pedal and, as a result, it wasn’t even an hour later when they found her, ten miles away, the old Ford parked crooked along the edge of the road. Dean recognized it as soon as the Impala’s headlights touched the dilapidated back bumper, not hesitating once he threw the Impala in park, running through the snow and wrenching open the driver’s side door.

For a moment, the tension in Dean’s chest and stomach released, the wave of relief causing a flicker of a smile to morph his lips, because she was there. He’d finally found her.

“Y/N,” Her name fell from his lips, barely a whisper. She looked up at the mention of her name and Dean’s heart nearly sunk to his knees.

She was alive, thank God, but she wasn’t right. Dark, sticky blood covered her clothes and skin and tangled her hair. Dean couldn’t tell if it was hers or the vamps’ she’d massacred. Even that wouldn’t have bothered him much. It was the dazed, empty look in her usually bright, sparkling eyes that made Dean feel as though the ground had dropped out from beneath his worn boots.

“Y/N,” Dean repeated, even quieter, eyes wide and searching hers for any sign, anything that would tell him she would be okay. Her only response was to blink slowly, her eyes not meeting his, not even seeing anything.

Sam appeared at Dean’s shoulder, peering in at her, a frown crinkling his forehead.

“Is she—?” Sam began.

“Don’t know, Sam,” Dean cut him off, words harsh and loud. He grit his teeth, lips pressing into a hard line as he pulled her arms around his neck and lifted her out of the cab, trying his hardest to ignore the pounding fear tightening in his chest once again. “You drive,” he growled at his brother, who first reached in the cab to grab Y/N’s bag and then followed Dean to the Impala as he was climbing into the backseat with Y/N still in his arms. He rested her head in his lap as Sam sped down the gravel roads, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror every few seconds, his concern for her almost as deep as Dean’s.

Dean couldn’t bear to watch her numbly blink at him with those empty, dead eyes, so he ran his fingers through her hair, smoothing the wild tangles as his eyes focused on his task. With each soothing caress of his fingers, she became a little more awake, a little more alert. Dean glanced at her eyes every so often and could see the emptiness of her eyes clearing little by little, emotions fighting for control of her face, lips twitching, brow furrowing only slightly. Dean couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped his lips, audible enough for Sam to catch Dean’s eye in the rearview mirror and change his destination.

Minutes later, Sam pulled the Impala right up to the door of their hotel room. Dean lifted her gingerly from the cab, almost smiling when he realized her grip on his neck was tighter than before. Sam threw her bag at Dean and pulled away once he was clear of the car, muttering something about ‘cleaning up’.

Dean carried her easily through the motel room to the dingy bathroom in the back, setting her on the counter and stepping back to assess the state of her wounds and clothes. Blood was everywhere. He frowned at her messy hair, splotched with blood and gore, her tattered bloody clothes and the various blood splatters on her exposed skin.

There was no way around it; the only way to clean Y/N up was a shower and, with her being in a nearly catatonic state, she obviously wasn’t going to do it herself.  

“Y/N,” Dean had to know; he couldn’t shake the feeling. “Y/N, sweetheart,” he paused, watching her eyes searching for the source of his voice. He stepped closer to her, standing between her legs and cupping her face in his hands. “Y/N, can you hear me?” This time he couldn’t stop the smile that curved his lips when her eyes met his for the first time since he’d found her. “Did you get any vamp blood in your mouth?” He spoke slowly, hoping, somehow she’d understand.

Y/N blinked at him for a few moments and then, ever so slowly, shook her head.

Dean nearly laughed. She was okay. She’s going to be fine.

“Sweetheart,” Dean said again, holding her eyes with his gaze. “We gotta clean you up. I’m gonna help you shower, okay?” Dean swore he saw her lips curve upward oh-so-slightly as she gave him a tiny nod.

Dean proceeded slowly, speaking to her with soft, encouraging words, giving her a chance with each article of clothing he took off to stop him. But she didn’t. She had turned away from him and her gaze seemed far away, like she was looking beyond the ugly bathroom walls.

How many times had Dean pictured her naked? Of all those times, not once had he imagined it happening like this. He would have preferred the hood of his Impala on a warm summer’s night after stargazing or even his old, squeaky bed after he’d cooked her a candlelit dinner. Dean wouldn’t label himself as a romantic, but he could think of a thousand different situations where he would rather have this experience than right at this moment. He sighed; he didn’t really have a choice.

As he continued to undress her, Dean couldn’t bring himself to look at her like he wanted to; it wasn’t fair to her when she hadn’t really given her consent. Besides, this was hardly the time or place for it. Still, Dean couldn’t help but appreciate her beauty underneath all the gore, dirt, and bruises that coated her skin.

Once her clothes were on the floor, Dean guided her to the shower, turning on the water and making sure the temperature was adequate before he lifted her over the tub and underneath the spray. Dean shed his shirt and jeans before stepping in the shower with her. There was no other way really. Dean tried to touch her as little as possible as he scrubbed the grime from her skin, feeling he was invading her personal space, though he didn’t have much choice. Dean’s hands lingered in her hair, however, as he massaged in the shampoo, carefully working through the remaining tangles. He’d always wanted to run his fingers through her soft, beautiful hair. When her hands found his shoulders as he was cleaning her legs, Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked up abruptly, half hoping she had returned to her usual self, but looked down once more to his task dejectedly as he realized the touch was merely for balance; the far-off look remained in her gaze that was still focused on the dingy walls.

Once she was clean and dry, Dean carefully inspected her body for any fresh wounds. Her legs and arms were newly bruised, a nasty although not unexpected side effect of ten vampires attacking her all at once. Dean’s eyes glossed over the scars of old hunts, that jagged pink line on the left side of her ribs from a particularly vicious ghost-inflicted wound he’d help stitch up several months ago, an older smaller wound on the inside of her right elbow that he had only seen once when she hadn’t realized he was home and was cleaning around the bunker in a rare tank top. There were new scratches on her back, however, in the shape of four raw red lines. Apparently one of those vamps couldn’t be bothered to get a manicure.

Dean bandaged the wound as best he could, thankful it wasn’t deep enough to require stitches. He spotted other fresh but smaller scratches along her arms, neck, and face. Since they were no longer bleeding, Dean decided to save the bandages.

Finding the clothes in her bag he was glad Sam had grabbed from the truck, Dean dressed her in a bra and panties, some old jeans and one of his worn flannels, because he couldn’t find any comfortable looking shirts in her bag. He set her down on the closed toilet lid while he cleaned up the bathroom, leaving her bloody clothes in the sink to soak and changing into fresh clothes himself. When he was done, he lifted her in his arms again, carrying her to the ancient couch and wrapping the old blanket around her shoulders.

Her unresponsiveness was beginning to truly worry Dean. Could he just have imagined the focus in her eyes before?

“Y/N,” he spoke. He had to cup her face in his hands again to get her to look at him. Once again, her eyes focused on his intensely at his touch. Dean opened his mouth to say something further, but to his awe, she beat him to it.

“Dean.”

It was one word, quiet but clear. What was more, it was his name. Dean grinned widely; he would have sung if he had any sort of voice. She was okay.

“Sweetheart,” Dean finally said, relief and joy flooding his tone, “Thank God you’re okay.” She smiled, now much more alert than before.

Dean wanted to demand an answer out of her as to why she’d run off to face those vamps alone, but he wasn’t sure she was ready yet. He didn’t want her to retreat back into her catatonic shell, which must surely be a coping mechanism of some kind.

“Y/N,” Dean began again, watching her smile again at the sound of her name on his lips. “I was so…worried that I’d—that I’d lost you. When I saw that vamp nest destroyed…I didn’t think there was any way you’d come out the other side alive. But we found you and—” Dean paused. How could he explain to her what she meant to him, without giving everything away? Because there was no way she felt for him what he felt for her. No woman this incredible could ever want a man like Dean Winchester. She sure as hell doesn’t deserve a man like me, Dean thought, his lip between his teeth, she deserves so much more. A kind, thoughtful guy who could give her much more than he ever could and didn’t tarnish everything he touched.  “Y/N…I—” Dean started again, trying to quell the nervous tinge in his gut caused by her intense stare. “You’re so damn important to me, sweetheart. You’re—you’re everything to me. I went crazy when I thought you were gone. I’ve lost a lot of people, Y/N, and God, I was hoping you’d be one that stuck around.”

Y/N blinked up at him once more, the empty glaze at last clearing from her eyes, as she opened her mouth to speak.

Read Part 3 here!