↳ Pt 1 (1/1) Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Genre: NSFW 18+ | Swearing; Backseat smut Information: This is the most sinful thing I have ever written. I need Jesus. Summary: He wanted you so badly and you couldn’t say no to his offer.
Hiiiiii! Yes, I’m back and I’m not dead lmao I’m so sorry for not having anything up in so long.
Also, this is my first piece of writing for Narnia that I’m going to be posting on this blog and I’ve been wanting to do this for such a long time but I’ve finally gotten around to actually doing it. The whole Narnia series (books and movies) holds such a large part of my heart to itself and I’m really excited for more of these to come!
Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Reader
Summary: Edmund challenges reader to a friendly duel. Reader is a fighter but only so in hand to hand combat because of a large dislike for sharp objects. The winner gets a prize from the loser at the end of the match. (Lmao I suck at summaries oops)
Word Count: 1350
Warnings: None, really
You stare at the sword in your hand, contemplating your next move. Should you take him up on his offer to a friendly duel or should you return to pretending to read while watching him train on his own? By no means are you unable to fight because you have always been more than capable to do so. But merely in hand-to-hand combat. Swords and bows and arrows and whips and all were never correct for you – they just never worked well with you.
That, and you have an undying fear of things with sharp edges just like this one.
“Are you afraid of hurting yourself with that sword in your hand, love?” Edmund smirks, “Just like last time? When you managed to half-impale your own forearm?”
“I’m not afraid of hurting myself, Ed,” You roll your eyes. If it weren’t for the fact that he was the one who’s unknowingly stolen your heart, you would have not even thought of saying yes to the fight against him. But you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front the man you had grown such strong feelings for.
“Then why are you not accepting the challenge, Y/N?”
“I–um,” You stuttered, not wanting to admit your dislike for swords. After clearing your throat, you blurt, “I don’t like sharp objects, Your Majesty.”
“Is that all?” Edmund chuckles at your teasing use of his title, “It’s merely a friendly duel. I won’t let you get hurt, if that is what you are afraid of.”
With a sigh, you nod your head as if to tell him that you will. He sends you a small smile–one that’s barely there. It’ a smile that few get to see but it’s a smile that many remember. Edmund hands you a sword, his eyes running across the armory as he readies his own. You flash him a mischievous smirk, swinging your leg out to hit his calf lightly. You decide it’s time to toughen up and use the bloody sword.
“Hey,” He says, his eyes looking into your own as he quickly moves out so that your foot never touches his calf. Edmund’s orbs glisten with a sense of cheekiness that you knew could only mean he was enjoying this more than he should. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
You roll your eyes at him, watching as he swings his sword around twice before he pushes it forward. You quickly move to the side, watching as the tip of the sword pierces the air beside your shoulder. As quickly as the first, Edmund strikes at you once, the clash of your own sword being heard throughout the silence of the armory.
It’s difficult for you not to just stop what you’re doing and stare at him as he moves. In your eyes, there is nobody that holds more beauty than Edmund Pevensie. His raven hair falls over his eyes, a slight blush on his cheek from training for so long before now.
“If you cut me with that sword of yours,” You mumbled, loud enough for him to hear you as you both repeatedly swing at each others with the freshly sharpened weapons. “My veins will haunt you. That’s a promise.”
This time it was Edmund’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Honestly, you’re kind of weird.” Edmund grunts, blocking another one of your hits. His eyes meet yours once more, his gaze piercing your own through the gap between your swords.
“Took you long enough to figure that one out,” You smile. This time your leg actually hits his calf with so much force it sends him to the floor. It was a simple trick (if it could even be called a trick) that Edmund would have seen coming if you were anyone else. But he had his guard down more than his usual. “I mean, really Edmund, we’ve known each other for years!”
“And yet this is still the first time you’ve managed to have almost beat me,” And he pounces back up, quickly swiping the side of your sleeve with the end of his sword. You glare at him as he twists the sword out of your hand, causing it to fall to the floor beside your feet before he’s holding the tip of his own at your neck with a devious smile playing on his pink lips. “I win.”
“Bloody hell, Ed,” You groan, picking up your sword and handing it back to Edmund to put it away safely. “You could have at least let me win. Just this once.”
“Maybe next time. But,” A sly smirk crosses the King’s face as he steps toward you, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do I get for winning, hm?”
You open your mouth as if to say something but you abruptly shut it, holding a single finger up at Edmund’s face before you run to the bag of vegetables that you had picked from the garden. You pull out a carrot, quickly running back to your closest friend with the orange vegetable in your hand.
“Here.” You stick the carrot in his face as if forcing him to eat it right then and there. He just stares at it with an eyebrow raised before he lifts his hand, grabbing the carrot in his hand. His expression is unamused yet amused at the same time, his eyes scanning the carrot as if it were a clue to some long unsolved mystery. But really, it was just a carrot.
“Yeah,” You nod, jutting a thumb behind you in the direction of the gardens. “The salads they grow in the garden are really good. The carrots are especially scrumptious, I bet you would love this one.”
“Do I look like a bloody rabbit?!” Edmund exclaims. He quickly regains his more senseful train of thought, his eyes falling back to yours.
“What? Do you not like it?”
“I mean I–yes, I like it. I love carrots.” Edmund trips over his words, not wanting to offend you in any way. Truthfully, Edmund hates carrots.
“Oh,” You smile. “It just seemed like you didn’t–”
“There was just something else that I had in mind, that’s all.” And taking advantage in his sudden boost of confidence, he pulls you into his chest, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with the softest touch his fingers could manage.
Both you and Edmund don’t fail to notice the speed of your individual heart rates increase from the proximity and you silently hope that he can’t hear the beating of your heart because of how close you are. He bites his lip once he notices the blush that tints your cheeks. In fact, you were pretty sure they’re on fire.
He touches his forehead to yours tenderly, his hand loosely placing itself on your warm cheek. The feeling of his thumb caressing the soft skin sends shivers down your spine, your breath quickening as his face slowly grows closer to yours. You can feel each and every one of his breaths on your face which you found seemed so very intimate for someone like Edmund.
He looks to your eyes for permission, silently learning the answer you choose to give him. Edmund notices your eyes already falling to his lips. He shuts his eyes, his hold on you growing tighter and more intimate than ever.
And within seconds his lips are on yours.
The kiss starts of slow and gentle but it soon turns towards a more heated and passionate direction. His lips are as soft as clouds against your own lips, sending small shockwaves through your bloodstream and you could feel in every inch of your body, exactly how Edmund the Just feels about you.
He pulls away much too soon for your liking, once again resting his forehead against yours.
“I loved the carrots,” Edmund says, his chest rising and falling as he regains his breath from the kiss that has left him panting more than any war that he has fought. “But that kiss was a prize that I liked much much more.”
Hi :) I’d like to request a Jughead x reader. But it’s a bit sad. Like he tells someone about the reader, that she was great and he loves her and stuff. And when the person he’s talking to asks where the reader is, he tells them, that she disappeared a few years ago, but no one really bothered looking for her( for some reason, idk😅) And maybe they could all start to search for her? Thanks already 🤗
A/N: I didn’t even proof read this because I got so emotional writing this. It’s probably not as intense as it felt when I was writing it but bloody hell I feel drained. If you want to get the full I-might-cry-at-any-moment experience I would highly suggest listening to the song Highspeeds by Elliot Moss. I really hope I did this request justice, any feedback would be much appreciated 💓💫
Jughead sat, slouched in his chair as he focused intently on
trying to quell the tears that were brimming in his icy eyes. Archie, Veronica
and Betty were all discussing the most efficient way to get Jughead a
girlfriend as Kevin feverishly nodded in agreement.
“You should smile more Jughead, nobody wants to date an
angsty emo y’know.”
“Veronica’s right Juggie and you need to get off your laptop
more, it makes you look unapproachable!”
“Betty’s right Jug and maybe try and lighten up with the
humor, girls don’t like people who joke about death.”
“Yes! You could totally
slay if you just put the effort in, after all there’s someone out there for
everyone,” Kevin added with terrifying enthusiasm.
He couldn’t bear it anymore, all of them talking about him
as if he were pining for a romantic companion. He didn’t need anyone, he needed her. He slammed his fist down on the table in front of him,
silencing his friends but going unnoticed by the rest of his schoolmates that
were eating lunch in the courtyard around him. A singular tear escaped from the
reddened rim of his eyes and ran down over the purple circles – accumulated after
many late nights staring intently at the bright, white illuminated screen of
his laptop – beneath and onto his pasty, slightly sunken cheeks. That was what
shocked his friends the most. Not his sudden outburst but his sudden revelation
of raw emotion. They didn’t dare to move, just awaited an explanation with wide
eyes and slackened jaws.
“I don’t need anyone so please just stop. I don’t need to
change and I don’t need to impress any girls because somehow I impressed her and she’s all that I want. I don’t
know how I did it but I did, I managed to peak the interest of a girl who’s
smile made the rays of the sun seem dim and unfulfilling. Then somehow that
innocent curiosity turned into something more, something that terrified me so
much that I lay in bed at night in my dad’s trailer wondering how I’d let myself
fall so hard and cursing myself, knowing how fractured I would be when I hit
the ground. Then one night in Pop’s she sat across from me and with tears in
her eyes, brows furrowed with sincerity and told me that she wished I could
love myself as much as she loved me. She told me that she saw a shooting star
the previous night and she had wished upon it but she hadn’t done so in vain,
she had wished that I saw myself as she saw me; emotionally strong but with the
gentlest touch, harsh but beautifully honest and imperfect but perfect to her. For
the first time in my life I saw myself in a different light because she told me
to and I clung onto her every word as if I was hanging from the edge of a
precipice and they were my lifeline. Then she leant over and placed a kiss on
my lips, except it wasn’t just a kiss, it was my salvation. With my lips
pressed against hers I felt safe for the first time in my life and at that very
moment I welcomed the feeling of falling because I was falling in love with a
who’s love was vaster than all of the oceans and who’s kindness melted even the
iciest of hearts…” Jughead’s voice trailed off as the growing lump in his throat
prevented any more words from escaping.
“Well then where is she?” Veronica asked with raised
eyebrows, lacking tact or the ability to mask her apparent confusion and doubt.
“She disappeared,” Jughead began, hoarse voice eliciting a
small gasp from each of his companions. “She disappeared and nobody cared but
me. They said she’d run away, that it was a common occurrence with girls her
age. They said she’d probably found herself an older man, a forbidden
relationship and run off with him to indulge in some naïve teenage fantasy but
I knew better. I knew she’d never do that; her selflessness wouldn’t allow it. She
would have never left knowing the pain it would have caused the people around
her…the people closest to her…me.
Something happened to her, something terrible and yet everyone just accepted
the simple explanation and moved on. I won’t move on. I can’t move on until I know what really
happened to her and it’s exhausting.”
Jughead looked up at his friends; Betty was sobbing
violently into the sleeves of her pink sweater, Veronica had teary black
streaks running down her face and Kevin was dabbing lightly at his eyes with a
perfectly folded tissue. Archie placed a calloused hand on his best friends’ slender
shoulder and his brown orbs – glistening with unshed tears – met grey ones.
“We’ll find her Jughead, all of us,” He began, auburn brows
furrowed with sincerity and concern. “We’re gonna help you find out what
happened to her no matter what, okay?”
“She was my everything Arch and nobody cared. Everybody
ignored her like she was nothing but when Jason Blossom died the entire town
rallied together even though he was an awful person. Nobody even remembers her name…” Jughead spoke in a strangled
whisper, tears now flooding down his ghostly face.
A/N: Part III is here! And Part IV is officially on it’s way. Again, pardon if i have grammatical errors.
To say Adley was surprised, was the least of it. When Bucky showed up on
her doorstep the day after, holding a bouquet of violets just for her,
happiness soon took over Adley. She can’t believe that Bucky was back, and to
her! Reliving yesterday, she remembered how torn he was seeing (Y/n) leave and
she was sure that between her and the (y/h/c), Bucky was bound to choose the
(y/h/c). He brought her out for lunch, to a lovely French café downtown that
served amazing Escargots de Bourgogne.
Adley swore to herself that she would take in (Y/n)’s words, devoting herself
to Bucky entirely and making sure she was enough for him. And she thought
everything would’ve been fine after this.
She was wrong. Lunch happened few hours back and it was already late at
night, Adley still couldn’t shake off the tight feeling constraining her chest.
“Thank you for the
flowers James, I love them,” Adley said.
Bucky smiled at her,
though she couldn’t quite picture what was wrong with it. The waitress came and
took their order, and they were left in silence shortly after.
“So uh… are we
officially together?” she asked, staring at Bucky. Bucky tensed up, and she
wondered if she touched the topic too soon.
“Yea…” he shot her a
smile, eyes down casted and fingers toying with each other. It was then Adley
made sure to pay attention to every single bit of detail of Bucky.
Adley blinked twice before tucking herself in bed. Bucky was different
today. His smiles were tight and never reached his eyes. His eyes were focused
on her but his mind was elsewhere. His hands kept fumbling with each other and
his legs seemed restless, constantly shaking about wherever he sat. He was also
cautious when they were about to make skin contact. Adley sighed, she knew she
had to give Bucky time.
And that she did, days turned into weeks turned into months. Bucky was
always around. He often drop by and brought her out for meals, usually
favouring whatever she felt like having. He would leave her messages every day,
a short ‘Good morning.’ or ‘Hope your day went fantastic!’. He brought her a
colourful array of flowers, to the extend where there would be a fresh bouquet
every few days. He would provide her the best pleasure in bed where she would
see sparks and feel jolts of pure bliss pulsing between her legs
But Adley wasn’t stupid, she wasn’t blind nor was she oblivious. Bucky
would take her out to high-end restaurants, but he never brought her back to
his house for a nice home-cooked dinner. He would leave her messages that
contained smileys and winkies, but none of them ever had a red heart. The
flowers were wonderful, and they made a great addition to her rather dull
workspace, but Chrysanthemums, Daisies, Sunflowers… Roses always fall out of
the equation. She could feel sore and numb the next day after a night of
intimate workout, but as intimate as it could be, it was not in any way
love-making, and he would leave straight after.
It has been 3 months since Adley could call Bucky hers, but was he
really? Adley had been thinking a lot lately, regarding her relationship with
Bucky, regarding the emptiness she still felt in her heart and regarding the
underlying distance she had with the man. She sat on her couch, her cup of
Chamomile already cold but still full in her hands. Her breathing was even, and
her expression showed serenity; eyes closed, lips parted ever the slightest,
jaw relaxed. When the doorbell rang, that effect immediately broke. She went
over and opened the door, revealing Bucky. Adley bit her lips, no doubt Bucky
looked incredibly attractive in the body-fitted black suit he wore, with his hair
slicked back and another bouquet of flowers (Camellias) in his hands.
“Adley, hey! These are for you,” Bucky grinned, handing her the delicate
bunch of pink. He noticed that she wasn’t dressed up like he asked her to, and
looked puzzled. “Why aren’t you dressed up yet?”
Adley bit her lip, she had to do this, or it’ll just tear her apart from
“I can’t do this anymore James,” Adley started, “I can’t lie to myself
thinking all this,” she gestured around to the flowers and to him, “is okay!”
“What do you mean?” James asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“James! Can’t you see? You’re forcing yourself in this!” she grabbed his
hands, “You don’t actually want to be with me, I know that, and it’s okay. You
don’t have to force yourself anymore.
Adley saw Bucky froze, his eyes were opened wide and his mouth was
agape. He snapped out of it after a few seconds and took her hands into his
“No no no… no Adley! I’m not forcing myself, Sweetie. I want to be with
“You don’t, James!” Adley cut him off, voice booming across the room,
“You never did! Your heart, mind and soul still belongs to (Y/n)! They don’t
belong to me, and they never did!”
“No James, you think I haven’t noticed? How you shy away whenever I
asked you to move in with me? How you never buy me Rosses, never stayed the
night and never brought me to your place?” Adley shouted, “How about the fact
that within these months, you’ve never once told me you love me?”
She heaved out a sigh, heart clenching when she saw the crestfallen and
perplex look on Bucky’s face. She could see the calculating gaze he had on her,
trying so hard to interpret her words and the meaning behind them. She dragged
him to her couch, and sat beside him, hands still intertwined together.
“James,” and he looked at her, “I love you. I really do, and you love
her. I know what she said to you, I was there that day, remember? But you don’t
have to force yourself to oblige. You may not be able to tell, but I can. The
only reason why she told you to stay with me, was because she thought you loved
me, and not her. When in reality, it’s the complete opposite.”
None of them spoke for a while, but the silence brought comfort,
realisation and appreciation.
“(Y/n) told me a lot of things before you arrived that day, you know?”
Adley said, smiling.
“Oh yeah?” Bucky replied, afraid to ask for the content, but Adley
“Yeah, she told me how to care for you. She told me you often have
nightmares, and that you liked your coffee with fresh milk- Wait, I’ve been
curious, is that why you don’t drink coffee here? Because I hate fresh milk?”
Adley asked with a smile.
And Bucky replied with a chuckle of his own, “Uh… sort of, yeah.”
“She told me you get pretty grumpy in the mornings, and how you get into
fights with uh… Steve, was it?” Adley looked at Bucky, who returned a nod, “She
told me you’re always worrying about her leaving you one day.”
Adley saw Bucky’s baby blue orbs glisten with tears, and she was afraid
of breaking this comforting atmosphere (one of the most pleasing ones she had
with Bucky), but she had to ask the one question that had been lingering in her
thoughts for the longest time.
She didn’t need to go into context, she knew Bucky understood her
“I was scared, she seemed so perfect…” he trailed off.
“She accepted my past, told me it doesn’t define who I am.”
“Bucky? Bucky, cut it
out! What happened back in the days were not your fault, okay? You’re human!
Humans make mistakes, humans aren’t perfect, and I understand that. I will
always love you no matter what your past was, because you are you in this
present and I will always stay with you even to your future.” (Y/n) said, hands
grabbing his face as she stared into his eyes.
“She claimed to love all my flaws.”
“I’m so, so sorry
(Y/n). It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. You told me the boat
ride was dangerous and I-” Bucky fumbled with his words, trying his best to
improve the situation.
“Shh, Bucky it’s
okay! We’re just wet, it’s not like I got bitten by a crocodile,” (Y/n) said, leaning
up to his face and pecking his cheek, “It was pretty romantic either way.”
“She became my backbone, the person I could count on the most.”
“Bucky, calm down-”
“Shit, shit, shit!”
Bucky panicked, rushing into the white halls. He arrived at the room and his
heart dropped down to his stomach.
“Bucky,” (Y/n) said
and grabbed his arm, finally catching up to him, “Stop. You heard the doctor,
Steve’s been stabilized. He needs his rest.”
“But I almost lost
him, (Y/n)! I almost lost him and you’re asking me to fucking calm down?” he
yelled at her. The nurses around them were too intimidated by the man to ask
him to keep it down.
(Y/n) slapped Bucky,
and he felt the stinging pain on his left cheek.
Barnes, listen to me. I know what it’s like to lose a friend. I know it’s not
easy, especially to someone that close to you. But Steve is fine,” the (y/h/c)
gritted out, “And you have a fucking final coming at you in 2 hours where if
you fail, you won’t be able to graduate. Man up Buck! Steve wouldn’t want this
for you, especially after knowing that he’s okay.”
Bucky evened out his
breathing and pulled (Y/n) into a hug, wondering what he would do without her.
She pushed him slightly and whispered.
“Go Bucky, I’ll take care of Steve. Just make sure you do your best in your
final, so Steve and I have a reason to celebrate.”
“I love her, very much. She means the world to me, and I believed that
she was, still is, too good for me. So I turned into a coward. I mean, it wouldn’t
hurt as much when someone leaves you if you have another one to go to, right?”
Bucky said, turning to Aldey. “That was what I thought before, and I realised
how wrong it turned out. Because everything would hurt, as long as that someone
still has a hold in your heart, everything would still hurt.”
Character(s): Negan x Reader || Simon x Reader (pre-apocalypse) Summary: Negan hears some devastating news. Word Count: 3,888 Warning: Smut wth Simon!!! Author’s Note: I know this is long overdue, but here it is! This chapter is much shorter than the previous ones, but it’ll pick up soon. I promise! This and the next few chapters are going to be much different than the previous ones. If you caught the small, brief hint in the last chapter, I’m sure you’ll know what direction I’m taking this in. Also, the amount of people that are loving this story means so much to me! I’m enjoying it just as much you all are! Things are about to get much harder before it gets better ;) Enjoy!
It had been a week since the
incident in Simon’s office. Since then, you couldn’t stop thinking about the
way Negan was watching you and the way Simon felt slamming into you. You couldn’t
pay attention in class. All you could think about was Simon and Negan’s demand
on asking who you belonged to.
When you moved to Atlanta, you
didn’t expect to be at the mercy of the two men you had fantasized about. It
was exciting and coming into work at Simon’s bar was always something you
looked forward to.
After turning down Trevor, he
did his best to avoid you. You wished he didn’t ask you out because aside from
him, you only had a few friends and they were all the people you worked with.
Once Monday came, you were more
than excited to go to work. You were always so busy on the weekends at Chris’s
bar and Sundays were usually the days you used to catch up on homework that you
actually missed seeing Simon and
Negan. Neither of the two bothered to text you, so you had to wonder if they
were still punishing you.
You finished dressing in your black,
ripped jeans with a dark grey, loose tank top. You grabbed your maroon apron on
the way out of your apartment. You were more than excited to see Negan and
Once arriving to the bar, you
wrapped the apron around your waist and walked in, smiling over at John as you
ran a hand through your wavy locks.
“Hey,” you said, walking behind
the bar to give him a one-armed hug.
“Should warn you. Negan’s not in
a good mood, so be careful. I wouldn’t want you stepping on his toes,” he said.
without saying that barista isn’t a glamorous position. I wear the hat and
apron on a weekly basis, but it’s a step up from where I was months ago. Late
night gas station work isn’t safe, even if the money was better. I was dealing
with the morning crowd, my regulars. The old, blue-hair that wanted decaff with
sugar. That one person always wearing obnoxious, overpriced headphones, always
gets cold brew. My usual. We’re located by a highway. I see regulars and fresh
faces day in, day out.
normal routine, until a few weeks ago. I was greeted with someone that seemed
familiar, but that I knew wasn’t a regular. I know my regulars. Average height,
chubby, white woman with brown hair. Her glasses were crooked, and scratched to
hell. Not once in our entire transaction did she look up at me.
how can I help you?”
was poking about on her phone, not even glancing up. “Yeah, hi. Uh, triple,
venti, soy, no foam latte.”
punched the order into my POS, as always. “Triple, venti, soy, no foam latte,”
I repeated back to her. Sucks to be the barista to make that drink. “Order
tapping at her phone, she hummed to herself. “Hmm… Danica.”
Danica. We’ll call your drink when it’s ready!”
She paid in cash, and stuffed a dollar in the tip jar.
order was ready in no time, and she was still on her phone when she got it. She
probably sat at her table, off in the corner, for a half hour, before heading
out the door. That was her routine. For four days, that was how we did things.
Sure, sometimes I wasn’t on register, but I knew her order.
knows how long we’d have done that song and dance, without one of my coworkers
being a jerk about it. See, Danica’s order was kind of a pain to make, and it
seemed like she was going to become a regular in our shop. One of my more catty
coworkers didn’t like making anything more complicated than a pumpkin spice
latte. She’d also just loved to give people full fat milk if they ordered skim
and she wasn’t in a good mood.
came again the next day, eyes still locked on her phone. “Triple, venti, soy,
no foam latte.”
venti, soy, no foam latte! Anything else?”
Note: An imagine no one asked for but I wanted to make. I dedicate this to @nvevr because she never fails to hit me with the bias wrecker feels. Ily tho. I hope you like it ♥
Jinyoung tilted his head to the side, eyes wandering over your face now that he’d cornered you against his body and the wall. It wasn’t intimidating, no, nothing like that. But his eye emulated with passion as they looked upon your face. His glassy orbs glistened in the dim lighting of the room as he rose his hand to place it against the wall beside your head as he hung over you.
“So, you bias Yugyeom, huh?”
You swallowed hard as a heat rushed to your cheeks. How was it Jinyoung could be so charming and enchanting all at once. You’d been loyal, so loyal to your bias since the moment you listened to your very first Got7 song, but recently, the man with the dark hair and the savage personality had been playing on your mind like a broken record.
“Yeah, I set it on the counter over there,” you answered Sam, your right arm extending behind you as it pointed towards the kitchen area.
Your nose was shoved into a book, not daring to separate your attention away from it for even a split second. Anything that was a possible distraction was your best bet right now. That and the fact you didn’t particularly enjoy any of the team’s company as of this moment in time. The antagonizing had gotten even worse and it had come to the point where they were so obvious and deafening, your secret had been exposed to now everyone. And when you say everyone, you mean everyone. Your mind eventually drew itself away from the pages of the book as the words became blurry, your thoughts gathering somewhere else, somewhere you couldn’t get out of your nagging head the entire night.
Tony continued, “-and Y/N, need to work out whatever nervous and sexual energy you have going on between the two of you.”
Steve'a eyebrows furrowed in shock and confusion as he looked to you for a simple answer to the equation, “Y/N what is going on?”
Your mind horrifically jumped back into reality as the words being muttered at that moment last night caused you to almost upchuck all over the place. You’ve refused to speak to Tony since last night, despite is close efforts to corner you in a room or catch you off-guard. It didn’t matter what why he tried, you still managed to escape his attempts every time. Your heart couldn’t come to terms with forgiving him in any way, shape, or form. What he did was unforgivable.
But Steve, he was an entirely different story. Ever since you ran out of the situation, your stomach twisted in knots as your heart sank to the bottom it, you’ve been avoiding him all day.
(everything in italics here happened last night)
You had locked yourself in your room, throwing yourself on the bed in horror and defeat, your wet tears staining the pillow you had clutched in your arms. Sobs wracked your body in an attempt to erase your memory of the horrible happenings that had just occurred, and replacing them with screams and tears. You shut yourself in your room for what felt like hours on end, the darkness somewhat soothed you at the horrid moment that had happened. As your breaths became light and slowed down to a normal pace, you felt your eyelids become heavy, a sleepy state masking over the heartbroken one. Darkness was all you could see and you felt achingly tired all of the sudden as you sipped into a state of pure silence.
That was until you heard the seemingly familiar knock on your door. Your head popped up quickly at the sound of the person deciding to interrupt your one quiet and soothing moment you had. Regret scaled over the room as you debated whether to answer or not, you didn’t want to speak to anyone at the moment, especially Tony. It wasn’t worth it. You decided to ignore the knocks and keep your mouth shut to a minimum, and watch the shadow of the person’s feet at the bottom of your door instead. Your eyes still trained on the black shadow underneath the door frame, you heard heavy breathing at the sound of your silence.
Your uneven breathing patterns were quiet until you heard a loud sigh muffle outside your door and a sweet voice filled with regret speak, “Y/N? Can we talk?”
Steve’s unforgettable, strong voice rang through your ears in a hazy way, your eyes widening for the first time in the past three hours. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, head lifting off the pillow and then your body made it way weakly off the comfortable safe space. Daringly, your feet hit the soft carpet and you tip-toe your way over to the door. You feel Steve’s presence closer than before against the door as you lean your own body against hit, laying your palm against the cold steel.
On the other side of the door, Steve leans forward to place his forehead against the large object that’s keeping you two from seeing one another. He shuts his blue eyes tightly, pain and guilt washing over him as he hears complete silence on the other side.
He sighs deeply, before deciding to ask once more, “Please, Y/N. Can we please talk?” he pleads to you, his strong voice sounding slightly weak at his statement.
His pleads echo in your ear and you feel a pang at your chest, your mind clouding with thoughts of numerous ways to let someone down easy, telling them that the feelings weren’t reciprocated. The worst about it was that you already knew what he wanted to talk to you about. You could sense his guilt stricken voice ready to roll the truth off his pink lips. And you didn’t know if you could handle that quite yet, especially your heart. You could already feel your fast pace heartbeat come to a complete stop as the truth was being said, and your stomach no longer twisting in knots, it just stayed stagnant, all the feelings being gutted from your body.
“Steve, I can’t. Please, leave me alone,” you responded, your body aching as the memories came flooding back. Your lips whispered the unkind words so softly you weren’t sure if Steve could hear it.
Your words could be felt so softly through the door as Steve’s mind read your damaging response. He sensed the ache and defeat in your calming voice and knew that was his cue to leave and give up for the night. It wasn’t much, but he didn’t think he was going to receive much so suddenly anyway. He heaved in defeat and slowly stepped away from your door and made his way back to his room, his brain running with thoughts and ideas of how he was going to tell you the truth.
The feelings were recuperated, and he was in love with you.
Your mind tried to dive back into your professedly interesting book and tried to wash away last night’s happenings and focus on anything else. After minutes of no one passing by you or questioning your quiet demeanor, you sighed happily and continued your trek of no interruptions, no past memories and finishing this damn book if it took you years.
But, it looked as if minutes was too much time for you to be in a seemingly good mood. Your eyes trailed to another sentence before your reading was stopped short by someone standing in front of you.
“Did you listen to Tony?”
Your eyes flicked up from your book to be met with an annoyed looking Steve standing before you. Your eyes instantly widened at his sudden question and presence, nerves filled your body from your toes to your nose. As you repeated the question to yourself in your head, your eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed in confusion.
You confidently decided to push your nerves and evident feelings to the side to question him standing in front of you, “Unfortunately yes, I did listen to Tony. Everyone did,” you made sure to drawl out the word ‘everyone’ while grumbling your response. To avoid annoyance and awkward eye contact with the gorgeous man standing before you, you shifted your eyes back to your book in an attempt to let him know you were ignoring him.
Steve’s lips pursed in slight anger, his hands setting themselves on his hips as he watched you in anger as your Y/E/C set themselves apart from his gaze to the book’s in a matter of seconds. As he realized he wasn’t going to get your full attention without working for it, he stepped over closer to you bent down, his weight on top of his feet. He reached up and pushed your book down from your face and stared intently at you.
Your eyes narrowed at him and threw the book to the side of the couch and looked at him wide eyed, “What? What do you need?” you asked snarky, arms folding across your chest as if it was a protective gesture.
Your eyes stared back intently into Steve’s glistening blue orbs and you felt your knees weaken, like they always did when those eyes drew you in. You were in a tense position with him right now, but that didn’t mean those feelings were trying to creep their way back out.
Steve groaned in annoyance before gesturing his hand out by his frame, “Right before you ran out, Tony said something very obvious,” he trailed out the words and looked at you with hope filled in his captivating eyes.
You didn’t seem to pick up on it and shook your head back and forth in confusion, “Besides the part about me liking you? Because that was pretty obviously said,” you muttered, slightly rolling your eyes at the horrid memory.
Steve rolled his eyes back before jumping back up to his feet and running his fingers through his blond hair with a groan, NO! TONY SAID THAT I NEEDED TO SHOW YOU THE RECIPROCATION!“
You stood up quickly in a haze of pure confusion and threw your tired arms up in the air. What in the hell was he talking about? Your mind questioned you as the intent glare Steve was shooting you began to grow into an apprehensive one.
Reciprocation? Reciprocation of what? Embarrassment? Complete and utter horror? What in the fuck is he going on about?
Your mouth couldn’t form the questionable words that wanted to spurt out of your mouth, so instead your head did the talking, shaking from side to side in complete failure of understanding.
You could feel the nervous energy build up between the two of you and your heart felt as if had already exploded twice in the same minute. Steve’s figure inched closer to yours, and the closer he got, the farther you got from figuring out what he was talking about. When his presence was close to you, your mind clouded with meaningless thoughts and situations. It was him. He did this to you. He made you feel as if nothing in the world mattered but you an him. Wishful thinking.
“Fuck the explanation.”
Are the words Steve muttered before striding over so quickly and sudden you felt the room spin, and grabbed your sweet face in his chiseled hands and brought your lips towards his before whispering against your trembling lips, “I fucking love you.”
The words let his mouth and traveled right to your heart as your lips smashed together in a long awaited, searing kiss. No longer was your brain controlling your movements and thoughts, it was your feelings. The feelings for him you’d kept wrenched inside your heart for months as you pressed against his mouth, your body collapsing against his strong frame. Your knees couldn’t function and Steve wrapped his muscular arms around your body and tugged you against him, your bodies on complete and utter adrenaline.
As both your eyes shut and the lack of oxygen became an issue, he let go of your wobbly frame and captured your cheeks with his hands once more, pulling back slightly off your lips. Your throat emitted a whimper at the sudden loss of contact and Steve grinned happily before placing his swollen lips back on yours one last time.
You both pulled away and looked up at each other in a dreamy haze, your obvious feelings taking part in the red across your cheeks and the goofy grins displayed across your sets of swollen lips. You stared at one another for what felt like a loving lifetime before you heard the voice that started it all.
“Hey, hey, hey! Looks like that mission pairing ended up working after all!”
I felt groggy as soon as my eyes opened the next morning, my head pounding and my throat feeling as though it was full of cotton wool, thick and furry. There was still the bitter taste of last nights tequila on my tongue and it reminded me of why I didn’t drink, especially when I was upset. It was the last thing I wanted to taste the morning after.
As I was lying there trying to decide on whether it was worth trying to get out of the bed I heard voices just outside the room, the door left slightly ajar. I licked my lips as I heard Bucky’s voice. “Will she be alright?” “The hangover will wear off,” Steve replied, his voice tense. “But Buck…you and I both know why she drank herself out the way she did.” There was a momentary pause and I heard Bucky sigh, the heels of my hands pressing against my eyes as I closed them, leaning back against the pillows. I vaguely remembered talking to Steve last night but for the life of me I couldn’t remember everything I said, nor what he said in return. There was no way to get any of those words back and by the sounds of it, whatever they were had them both worried.
“Hey…you’re awake.” I opened my eyes again and saw Bucky standing in the doorway, Steve hovering just behind him with a protective look in his eyes and his arms crossed over his chest. I didn’t say anything as he stepped further into the room, a water bottle hanging from one of his hands. “This - this is for you, figured you might need it.” “Thanks,” I replied flatly, reaching out to take it from him.
I uncapped the bottle, taking a few long mouthfuls, knowing better than to chug it when my stomach still felt so queasy. The water was slightly warm but still felt like heaven as it slid down the back of my throat, clearing out the taste that was still there. “I know that maybe you don’t feel like talking, but I really need to speak to you y/n.” I bit my lip, refusing to look up at him, the hand that wasn’t holding the bottle clenching around the edge of the duvet. After a minute I nodded my head. “You gonna be okay Doll?” “Yeah Steve, thanks.” I murmured quietly.
Summary: A trip to sunagakure planned by Sasuke, and what do you call it? oh, honeymoon! /Sasusaku travels. /Newly weds.
A/N: So I wanted to write a little more for this one, may be one scene more but I ran out of time. Well, here it is, I hope you guys enjoy this one.
‘Going Through Changes’
Hot breezes of wind were hitting her face, her hair blowing with the moving air. Tiny particles of sand could also be felt by her skin as another blow of wind hit her messy locks, spreading them all over her face. She stopped in her tracks, sighing for the hundredth time that day, She made yet another attempt to move the strands of her hair away from her line of sight, successfully unblocking her vision.
“When in the World will we reach sunagakure?” The pink-haired medic of Konohagakure asked in frustration.
“Are you tired already?” questioned the raven haired man who the only one to keep her company in the burning desert.
“I didn’t know the journey will be this long!” She exclaimed, a frown decorating her face.
“We’re almost there.” Smirked the dark-haired man.
Tying her hair into a bun, as tightly as she could, she continued to walk along side her companion. The sand was flying everywhere in the air, only to make it even more difficult for her to be able to see the silhouette of her destination.
The large eagles could be seen high above them, spreading their wings across the sky, like stars floating in the galaxy, they felt so brave, brave because they didn’t fear a fall. Even though everything was barely visible because of the dust particles blurring the scenery, this scene was still quite apparent to his eyes for he was the only rinnegan-user alive.
It wasn’t long until his eyes caught sight of the tomb-like structure of the kazekage-building of sunagakure. He looked over his shoulder to find his pink-haired companion sulking, a look of vexation decorating her features.
A smirk crossed his lips.
“Aren’t you the one who suggested we walk?” his question seemed more like a comment. A comment to tease the already annoyed pinkette.
She didn’t say a word, just looked at him with a pouting face, her cheeks appearing chubby, lipspursing like a bud of rose, eyes narrowed, eyebrows frowned, and she had no idea just how cute she looked to him like that.
So he looked away, because he couldn’t let her see the blush on his cheeks.
“Look Sasuke-kun!” she exclaimed, joy evident in her voice as she continued “I can see it, the dome of the building. We’re almost there!”, her finger pointing towards their destination. And it took his aback when she suddenly grabbed him by his arm, pulling forward. “Hurry up!” she insisted, forcing him forward.
He mumbled a quiet ‘hum’ at her action and followed her lead.
Two ninjas clad in the chunin uniform of suna could be seen, waiting for them at the check-post.
“Good evening.” one of them greeted.
“Good evening!” The rosette replied as cheery as ever. “We’re here to meet the kazekage concerning an important issue.” She explained.
“Sure.” the young chunin smiled as he bent down and took out what seemed like a filed paper. “Um, your name?” he questioned.
“Uchiha.” She was cut off by the hoarse, sonorous voice of Sasuke. “Uchiha Sakura.” he exaggerated, emphasizing Uchiha.
Their fifth year at Hogwarts was, essentially, a nightmare.
It started with Dolores Umbridge delivering a speech, to which Hermione Granger scoffed and Harry Potter scrunched his eyebrows, before his eyes wandered around the Great Hall, at the mixed expressions plastered on the faces of the students.
When his eyes met the glistening blue orbs of Draco Malfoy, a twinge of something - urgency, helplessness, nervousness - tugged in his chest. Harry’s lips parted slightly as Draco stared back, all confidence and smirks pulling at lips.
Harry broke the eye contact, running his tongue over his bottom lip.
This year was going to be different; they could feel it.
Draco Malfoy kissed Harry Potter for the first time on a Saturday.
Hidden behind stone walls and rain-soaked trees, it was rushed and sloppy. Spontaneous and under-planned.
But with Draco’s hand curled around his neck, Harry had never felt more satisfied.
Draco couldn’t escape the Inquisitorial Squad. Under the pressure of his father and his relationship with Harry, he agreed to join - mouth full of dread and pockets full of shame.
As Umbridge placed the pin on the chest of his robes, Draco sucked in a breath. This was an opportunity to hide something.
And he’d always prided himself in keeping secrets.
Months passed, and Draco consistently helped Dumbledore’s Army stay hidden, by eliciting false information and fake whereabouts to Professor Umbridge, in hopes that she wouldn’t suspect a thing.
He managed to see Harry quite often, with the help of the Room of Requirement and Harry’s invisibility cloak.
One brisk winter night, they almost got caught.
The moon and stars danced in the sky as the two boys snuck through the castle corridors. With the brunette boy’s hand cautiously slipped into his, Draco ducked under the invisibility cloak, his lanky legs inevitably poking out the bottom.
When Harry heard footsteps approaching, he reflexively yanked Draco behind a pillar, pulling him close into a concealed crevice in the stone walls.
They tried to stay silent, but Draco was finding it difficult to ignore the feeling of Harry’s body pressed into his. The way he could feel the shorter boy’s breath on his pale throat. Draco’s heart picked up speed, and his breathing seemed to intensify.
As did the sound of the footsteps. Draco dreaded the exposure, the consequences - that would surface if they were found. With the rising panic in his chest, he began to exhale more heavily, and -
Harry’s soft lips were suddenly pressed against his, with a cold hand cupping Draco’s warm cheek, which had turned quite pink, even in the darkness of the night.
With Draco’s heart beating against the inside of his chest, Harry kissed him until the echo of the footsteps faded into silence.
He finally pulled away, all heavy breaths and swollen lips. “What was that for?” Draco breathed, his cheekbones still flaming.
Harry simply shrugged, running a hand through his curly brown hair. “You were breathing too loud.”
Everything changed after Harry’s first detention with Umbridge.
They were in the Room of Requirement, sprawled out on a sofa. Harry’s head laid gently in Draco’s lap, and he closed his eyes as Draco slowly ran his fingers through Harry’s curls.
Draco’s hands froze when he saw a flash of red on the back of Harry’s hand.
“What happened to your hand?” he asked, sitting up more on the couch and causing Harry’s eyes to fly open.
“Nothing,” Harry replied instantly, mimicking Draco and sitting up off of his lap. He pulled down at his left sweater sleeve, defensively covering almost his entire hand, except for the tips of his fingers.
“Harry,” Draco said, reaching for his arm. “Let me see it.”
Harry pulled away, shifting away from the blonde boy on the cushions of the couch. “No, I’m fine, Draco-”
But he had grasped a hold of Harry’s left arm and pushed up his sleeve. Draco’s eyes widened and lips parted at the sight of the words, engraved into the skin of Harry’s hand.
I must not tell lies.
Draco couldn’t tear his eyes away from the wound, as he delicately held Harry’s hand in his, biting his lip before asking, “Did she do this to you?”
“Yeah,” Harry whispered, avoiding Draco’s eyes and picking at the seam of the couch with his right hand.
Draco tentatively ran his thumb over the words, feeling the scar against his flesh. “Did it hurt?” he asked, voice low and shaky, as if it physically pained him to ask.
Harry hesitated, finally looking at the pale boy’s face. Draco’s eyes connected with his, and Harry shrugged and lied, “No.”
Draco saw right through him.
“She can’t do this!” he yelled, standing up suddenly from the couch. “Teachers can’t do shit like this, right?”
Harry sighed, pulling his sleeve back over his hand. “I don’t know-”
“No!” Draco continued to shout, pacing the floor in front of the sofa. “I mean, this is cruel! And probably illegal-”
“Draco,” Harry stressed. “Really, I’m fine.”
“Harry,” Draco whispered, sitting back down on the couch and taking Harry’s injured hand in his once more. “She scarred your skin.”
Harry sighed, reminded of another scar forever engraved into his skin. He resisted the urge to press his fingers to his forehead. He hadn’t even noticed the correlation between the two.
Draco looked into his emerald green eyes and stated, “I can’t work for her anymore.”
“No, you have to,” Harry said immediately, shaking his head back and forth.
Draco gently ran his thumb across the blood red words on Harry’s skin. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself from killing her.”
“Draco, you’ve helped us so much,” he said, staring up at the blonde boy whose face held too much worry. “You need to. Please, I’m fine. I really am.”
Draco carefully pressed his lips together, peered back down at Harry’s hand before whispering, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
A smile tugged at the corners of Harry’s mouth as he responded, “Yes, love, I’m okay.”
Draco hesitated, before gingerly bringing Harry’s hand up to his mouth and gently kissing the scar, his lips warm against Harry’s cold skin.
“Fine,” he whispered, after Harry’s cheeks had tinted with the color pink. “I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” Harry said, before meeting Draco’s lips with his. Draco felt the tension slowly fade from his chest.
As the weeks dragged on, Draco had to hold himself back from strangling Dolores Umbridge.
Every single time he saw her, with her plump face and frilly pink clothes, all he could think about were those cruel words etched into Harry’s soft skin. It made Draco’s blood feel cold, his hands clench into fists at his sides.
He had to keep reminding himself that he was doing this for Harry.
One day, Draco had been patrolling the second floor of the castle, his Inquisitorial Squad badge shining on his chest, anxiety swirling in his stomach, when Vincent Crabbe stumbled up to him, appearing as if he’d just run a mile.
The words that came out of his mouth were the ones Draco had been dreading to hear all year.
“She caught Potter.”
Draco’s tongue felt dry in his mouth; his heart rate tripled. “What?”
“Yeah,” Crabbe said, a grin on his smug face. “They’re in her office right now-”
But the words were lost in the air, as Draco had taken off running in the direction of Umbridge’s office.
Harry was constrained in a chair, Dolores Umbridge towering over him, holding both her wand and his. The walls held an awful shade of magenta as Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna, and Ginny were held back by various members of the Inquisitorial Squad, all with wands pointed at their throats.
Umbridge opened her mouth, just about to throw another ridiculous accusation at Harry, when Draco Malfoy bursted into the room, his blonde hair a mess and the badge lopsided on his chest.
Harry locked eyes with him just for a moment, and noticed Draco’s left eye twitch slightly.
Only Harry knew that meant he was anxious.
“Oh, Mr. Malfoy,” Umbridge purred. “We’ve finally cornered Potter and his little friends.”
Draco tore his eyes away from Harry and looked at her, swallowing the lump in his throat, before forcing out the word, “Great.”
Harry turned back to Umbridge, who had leaned closer to him, her hands resting on her stout legs. “You were going to Dumbledore, weren’t you?”
“No,” Harry said, glaring into her eyes.
Draco cringed as the Professor sharply slapped Harry across the face.
The blonde boy clenched his jaw tightly, doing all he could to hide the fact that he was moments away from murdering Dolores Umbridge.
Harry said nothing, narrowing his eyes at her, and clenching his fists against the arms of the chair he was inhumanely tied down to.
“Well,” Umbridge said, standing up straight. “If you’re not going to talk, you’re leaving me with no other choice.”
Draco’s heart was beating so hard that he could feel it against his ribcage.
“The Cruciatus Curse ought to get you to confess.”
Draco’s heart practically stopped.
“That’s illegal!” Hermione shouted, struggling against Gregory Goyle’s hands wrapped around her wrists.
“Well, Cornelius doesn’t need to hear about this, does he?” Umbridge replied, raising her wand and pointing it at Harry’s chest.
The air in the room seemed to thicken, and everyone fell completely silent.
Harry’s chest rose and fell with every breath, his face reading pure fear.
Draco dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand, his breathing becoming more rapid by the second.
“Don’t!” Draco yelled, unable to hold it back any longer.
Every head in the pink office snapped to face him, but his eyes were only on Harry.
“Draco?” Umbridge said, looking even more flustered than she had been a moment ago.
The trembling Slytherin raised his wand, pointing it at her with all the strength he could muster.
“Don’t. Fucking. Touch him.” he said, his blue eyes cutting into hers with malice.
Harry couldn’t bring himself to say anything. His lips parted and he let out a shaky breath as he stared at Draco, with everything now out in the open.
Dolores raised her eyebrows, her wand not wavering from Harry’s chest. “And why not?”
“Because if you do,” Draco said, his voice not faltering in the slightest, “I’ll kill you.”
Albeit the circumstances, Harry Potter grinned at Draco Malfoy.
yay i finished a fic! i have been in a bit of a funk lately due to finals and stress, so writing this was a great escape from that :) xx
“Hey! Can you do a scenario where it’s the night before you are getting married to your fiancé Jackson and your childhood friend JB confesses his love to you. You can end it however you want. Thanks! :)”
Name: “Best Man”
Character: JB // Im Jaebum (GOT7)
Word Count: 1,612
(gif creds to the original owner)
“I love you (Y/N) I-” “No
Jaebum I-” you stopped. Your own vocal chords tumbled into a mess.
You couldn’t speak, not even to your best friend of so many years.
“(Y/N) I can’t hold it back any longer, I have loved you ever since
way back then,” he responded. His voice was clear, calm. It
surprised you how he could remain completely composed at a time like
this. Yet, you looked at his eyes and you couldn’t deny the soft
sadness that glazed the surface of his orbs. You scrunched up your
eyes, not able to look at him. “You can’t do this now,” you
replied. Your voice barely edged above a whisper. You tried to be
firm but every atom in your body wanted to crack and fall a part.
When you looked up, your best friend still had his dark gaze locked
on you. He was backed onto your apartment window. The silver moon
outlined his lean body, making him appear like a ghostly silhouette
in your flat. “Why are you telling me this now Jaebum? Of all the
nights, of all the times you could have told me,” you almost yelled
at him, He broke away from your pained eyes, the eyes he longed so
much to look at him the same way you did at Jackson. He shook his
head slowly. “ I don’t know.”
Summary: Chairman Kim’s life is in danger. And so is your married life.
↪Story Summary: You are betrothed to Kim Namjoon, the heir of a real estate mogul. To say that it was a fairy tale romance would be erroneous. You’re instead loped in the sad tale of the rich and melancholy.
Pairing: Namjoon x Reader (Guest Appearance by Min Yoongi lol)
Summary ;; whether it was her loyalty and devotion to her family, her love for sam, or her arrogant and snarky behaviour towards the demon that kept her captive - something on that list got her killed.
Warnings ;; torture, character death, angsty as hell, violence, some swearing
“Spill, or you’ll find me creating my own personal enjoyment as I listen to you scream in agony,” Her onyx black, merciless pits of rage stared down at you - a patronising smirk written on her blood red lips. The sharp tip of the knife that she so tightly held in her iron grip danced lightly on your bruised skin, running across your cheekbones and down the side of your neck as you clenched your jaw, not giving her the satisfaction of noticing your shaky and shallow breaths.
“Why should I tell you anything?” You seethed through gritted teeth as the glare in your eyes followed her - watching her circle your caged body like a vulture eyeing up its prey.
“Well, they obviously don’t care about you or else they’d be here, guns blazing and all. But they’re not - hell, they probably haven’t even noticed that you’re gone.” She threw a mock frown your way, feigning sadness as she spoke then broke into over-dramatic, hysterical laughter as if this whole situation was utterly amusing for her. It probably was, actually.
“They don’t care enough to save you; you shouldn’t care enough to save them,” She pointed out when you remained quiet, throwing you a look as if the answer was entirely simple.
“They care, and they’ll come for me - just wait.” Your voice sounded deadly and dangerously low, the venom seeping from every word - it was all an act, however. Your hands were harshly chained behind your body and your feet to the floor as you sat, detained to the chair, rendering you utterly incapable of breaking free. The tip of the knife was alarmingly close your exposed throat and the words she spat weren’t complete absurdity - maybe they weren’t coming for you…
“You’re not understanding my concept, are you?” She let out a huff of air, rolling her eyes as she processed your words before roughly weaving her fingers in your hair and yanking your head back. A small yelp tumbled from your cracked lips at her action, the pain of your matted hair nearly being ripped from your scalp making you squeeze your teary, (y/e/c) eyes shut and grit your teeth.
“You missed your chance to take the easy way, (Y/N). So now, I guess we have to do it my way,” The shiny blade of the knife sunk into your arm as she spoke, snarky. She dragged it up your arm and you couldn’t stop the pained cry that escaped as you watched the blood seep from the deep cut.
“Tell me where the Winchesters are.” Her voice was cold and demanding as she finally freed her harsh grip from your hair, your head falling limply to the side as you let out a shaky sigh, your squinted eyes still searing into her dark, void ones from where your head lay on your shoulder - the world tipped sideways for the mean time.
When you refused to give her the information she so selfishly wanted, you watched her bring the knife up and nick the skin on your collarbone, you let out a wince but quickly composed yourself after the pain passed, glaring up at her and your lips sealed in a straight line to let her know that you would never tell her what she wanted to hear.
Before you knew it, her clenched fist was coming up and colliding with your nose; a sickening crack filled the dark, damp, cold, room and your head was thrown back at the impact as you let out an anguished and pained outcry. You felt the metallic taste of blood hit your lips as it ran freely, your head pounding profusely at the cruel and relentless consequences of her blow.
You took a moment to squeeze your glazed eyes closed, waiting for the pain to pass as it had to the nick on your collarbone as a series of exhausted groans emitted from your aching self. Then, when your eyes fluttered open once again, you blinked away the dancing stars in your vision and presumed the glare directly at your capture.
She eyed your consistent expression bitterly, letting out an impatient snarl before dragged the knife down your cold skin and slicing at your abdomen with the blade mercilessly stained in your blood. A wrenching scream erupted from your chest as she continued to brutally tear at the skin on your stomach, the blood spilling from the wounds and drenching your torn and frayed clothing.
The heavy tears were rolling down your cheeks by then, a mixture of sobs and pained whimpers coming from your shaking persona when the blade came to a halt. Your breaths were short and the pain was excruciating but you continued to scowl up at her from where you were chained to, the glower in your eyes not backing down as she tauntingly leant down to your eye level, challenging you. The blade dancing on your chapped and cracked lips as she smiled, “Should we try again?”
“Tell me where the Winchesters are,” She repeated in a mockingly sweet tone before the sarcastic smile from her features was wiped in a flash and the blade was up against your neck swiftly once more, threatening to tear and slice at the skin, “Now.”
“Go to hell.” You spat, each word coming out so dangerously low and daringly slow that even you were surprised by your surging cockiness, a complete contrast to the hot tears that were still rolling down your cheeks and hitting the cold, concrete ground in quiet taps.
She let out an impatient and aggravated growl as she processed your incompetent answer, harshly shoving the blade further at your throat, almost piercing the skin as you inhaled a breath of chilled air sharply at her action. “Been there, done that - thanks to your precious Sam and Dean.”
“Well, I sure do hope that you liked it down there, because that’s exactly where they’ll be sending your ass when they get here.”
The only verbal reply you got was an exasperated “Oh, fuck this,” and then the tired smirk on your lips didn’t last nearly as long as you predicted it would when you watched her jaw clench and her eyes darken even more, her grip on the blade not faltering but getting tighter as the dreaded seconds ticked by. Then, before you even registered her movement, she was directly in front of you.
The sharp, piercing steel plunged into your stomach before you could protest; your mouth fell agape at the agonising, searing, burning sensation in the pit of your abdomen. You gazed up at her, shock evident from your raised eyebrows as your wide, panic-stricken eyes fall upon the edges of her lips being pulled into a satisfied smirk.
They sat together on the smooth wooden surface of his bed,
both leaning back against the headboard. His left arm encircled her form, hand
buried in the hair atop her head as he gently massaged her scalp with his
fingers. With her head resting gently atop his chest, she carefully paid
attention to his heart beat, memorizing it’s rhythm by heart in case she ever
had to go without it again. It was therapeutic for her, just to sit there and
listen. Although reminding her mutilated brain that it was just him every few minutes was beginning to
become irksome, the moments where she could finally just be at ease were bliss.
Her entire mid-section was wrapped in think white cloths,
red specks of blood peeking through here and there. After her desperate request
for him to not go into finite details, he reminded her of the state she had
been in when he found her. A jagged knife protruding from her side, more
patches of bruises and dirt visible on her body than her own natural skin. How
impossibly thin she was. She was glad
that her mind had been kind enough to block out those last few memories. She
only wished it would have had more of a disposition to block out more.
“Scott!” You yelled after him, he didn’t turn to you until you jerked his arm back
“No, Y/N! You need to stay here is safer!” He argued and your eyes glowed in fury, your jaw clenching.
“NO! I’m tired of this! I’m not staying here with my arms crossed while OUR friends need OUR help” Scott suddenly grabbed you by the shoulders, even though you wanted to, you couldn’t jerk away from his firm touch
“I’m doing this for you! Why can’t you see it?!” He roared in despair, his eyes flicked from his sweet and gentle brown eyes to his glistening bright red alpha orbs. “I won’t, I can’t loose you” he admitted, for a split of a second your eyes softened and you were about to agree to stay.
But the love you felt for your friends and their safety was bigger.
So you jerked away, putting some distance between the two of you, the anger rushing down to your body and mind again.
“Stop making up excuses!” You whined, talking through your teeth due to your tensed jaw, he rushed over to you but you didn’t accept his comfort. His eyes looked hurt, it was painful for you too but you weren’t willing to let this go.
“I’m sorry” as you watched him walk away, you couldn’t help to say what you did
“Then I’m done with this! It’s over!” He stopped on his tracks and slowly turned to face you, a few wild tears running down your cheeks, your eyes becoming puffy and slightly red, you quickly wipe them off "You can’t protect me from the world! We’re werewolves for fuck’s sake! This is our world” his expression was filled with sadness but he didn’t move from his place.
“Please, don’t do this, don’t break my heart” he whispered, his voice cracking and his eyes watering, you took a deep breath and tried your best to put a strong face, although you were slowly dying on the inside
“If you leave this house without me, we’re over” you sentenced firmly, the silence and tension fell, both of you maintaining eye contact, you both knew you were broken, it was obvious, but you were too stubborn and proud to let it go
Finally, he broke the eye contact and left, you wanted to stop him, make him stay. But you didn’t, instead, you let him go.
prompt: 6. “feel.” / link to the prompt list here. group: GOT7 pairing: im jaebum, you genre: fluff words: 673 note:
i’m doing a drabble series for all the members of got7! i’ve chosen the prompts by their birthdays, so jaebum has 6. :)
summary - A college!au in which Dowoon, a music student, crosses paths with a fashion major and they immediately get along, despite their opposite personalities. Dowoon is encouraged to dance at a gig in a local venue, instead of shying away and standing reluctantly by the sidelines.
Going back to college was never something I dreaded. I was just about to begin my third year at the country’s most prestigious arts school. There was never a tedious, boring day being a fashion major; the subject was something I was passionate and inspired about. Third year would be just as fun and interesting as the previous two years, however it would be tougher with more detailed assignments and numerous of deadlines to meet. Last year I was fortunate to study abroad, appreciating my adoration for fashion even more.
After packing up and saying goodbye to my family for another few weeks, I got on the train, ready for a three hour journey back to campus. After I arrived, I followed the routine which I had grown accustomed to; dropping my bags off at my student apartment (which I shared with four other students) and greeting the students that had already arrived before leaving to collect this terms curriculum and timetable. I was delighted to see that for this term I had mostly morning classes, finishing early afternoon most days. I liked this since it meant no night classes, plus the campus and library were usually more quiet and less packed in the mornings. After I collected my information from the students office, I turned around to see the campus swarming with students, old and new. Something that I loved about attending an arts school was the fact that it was far from ordinary. The place was bustling with students chatting amongst each other, holding large portfolios, boxes of art supplies or cases for musical instruments such as guitars, violins, cellos et cetera. A sigh of contentment escaped my lips as I smiled, I was happy to be back and let another year begin.