he was unable to speak

Voltron Deaf/Hard of Hearing Headcanons

Smh why has,,,,no one made a post like this yet? I’m offended. Like I’ve literally seen about one post. 

  • SO, if ya’ll know me, you know I have a soft spot for deaf shiro 
  • he’d be deaf-mute but not in the sense that he is physically unable to speak, he just would prefer not to? 
  • He’s pretty insecure about how his voice sounds so he really just stays quiet but sometimes he’ll laugh and ect. 
  • he isn’t the fastest at sign, he prefers to take things s l o w especially if he’s talking to someone who isn’t so great at tracking movement 
  • Keith would be partially deaf, but he’d have hearing aids to help, although it doesn’t completely make up for his deafness. 
  • That boi r e f u s e s to wear his got dang hearing aids IMM
  • Shiro: hey keith Keith:….. Shiro: boi….ur hearing aids….
  • Trying to go to sleep and Lance bangs his toe into the wall near his door
  • that boi is UP AND AT EM
  • You barely touch his shoulder he is al  e r t
  • Lance would be that one kid who is deaf but HE WILL TALK
  • but secretly he really does care but that doesn’t stop him
  • he didn’t have years of speech therapy for that nonsense let the boi speak 
  • He is super fluid with his sign, liek no one can frickin understand him
  • he goes at naruto speeds with that signing I tell ya but like, he’s super sloppy with it?? 
  • Shiro has an aneurysm everytime he tries to understand Lance’s sign
  • but Lance makes up for it by talking because his voice may sound a little off, but he’s still pretty good at it and he’s hella understandable 
  • Lance would turn reading lips into some flirty thing i feel this in my soul 
  • he would use reading lips as an excuse to stare at Keith’s mouth 
  • Pidge doesn’t have time for non-hearing nonsense, she probs would have super engineered hearing aids that let her hear a mouse’s heartbeat from Earth I M 
  • just kidding but she’d definitely have some super rad hearing devices
  • Hunk would be that one really rad deaf friend who is like super chill and will def (pun lmao) teach you how to sign like
  • don’t be afraid of offending him he is literally so chill like just approach him
  • he is also down with the quality Deaf Pranks™
  • If ya’ll don’t know about deaf pranks, it can go either way
  • pranking your deaf friend or your deaf friend pranking Y O U 
  • One of Hunk’s favorite Deaf Pranks™ is sneaking up behind Lance and placing his hands on his shoulders 
  • Lance jumps 5 feet away 
  • Another one is openly ignoring someone even if you see them out of your peripheral vision because “oh sorry,,,,im deaf,,,,OOPS” 
  • Pidge: I’m sorry. Suddenly I can’t read I don’t know Shiro: Pidge you’re deaf, not blind 
  • Lance: Lol this is sign language for fuck you *flips off an entire fleet of Galra* 
  • My fav headcanon tho is that they all just sometimes sit around the room and like
  • feel the vibrations from upbeat music
  • like ya’ll think deaf people don’t enjoy music??? lmao 
  • also really intimate things like 
  • touching eachother’s throats and speaking/touching the other’s throat if they can hear and speak articulately 
  • because feeling their voice vibrate against their throat is top notch and i love it 
  • Allura being that one really supportive friend who learns sign language just because of the paladins 
  • Coran being really intrigued by the “Human’s hand language” 
  • Keith: AND ANOTHER THING- Lance: *hand cuffs him* No
  • Shiro: Lol can’t hear your bullshit 


Anyways,,,,deaf paladins,,,plz @roteli @roteli-vld

BTS Scenario: Discipline

Jeon Jungkook X Reader

Genres: Smut, Spanking, Fingering, Blowjob 

Summary: After seeing you getting closer to another member, Jungkook decides that he needs to teach you a lesson about keeping your hands to yourself.

Word Count: 2.3k

Thank you to anon for the request!

The dorm was filled with chatter after the boys had finished their evening practice; the room mingled with sweat and loud voices. You threw your head back in laughter as Jimin cracked another joke, raising a hand to grab his arm in an attempt to steady yourself. He leaned forward to butt his head against your shoulder as he tried to suppress his own giggles. Jimin placed a hand on your waist as he straightened himself up, the last of his chuckles fading out.  

“You know, Y/N, no one else will joke around with me like this, we ought to hang out more often.” Jimin grinned, grabbing your hands and swaying them side to side as you nodded your head in agreement. You opened your mouth to respond when you suddenly felt a pair of eyes boring into you and looked across the room to see Jungkook sitting on his own on the couch. He glanced back down at his phone as he caught your gaze. He briefly flickered his eyes back up to glare between you and Jimin as his mouth screwed into a grimace while nibbling at the inside of his cheek. You frowned at his scowling expression, wondering what had caused his anger-filled state. You watched as he even brushed off Taehyung’s attempt to start a conversation, pushing himself further into the corner of the couch as his eyes narrowed towards you. Excusing yourself from Jimin, you began to make your way over to where your boyfriend was sitting. Jungkook’s glower remained unfazed as you approached him and his hands balled into fists, clenching so tight that you could see his veins begin to appear. Upon reaching him, he stood up, towering over you as he leaned down to whisper into your ear.

“Meet me in my room. Now.” He ordered; his warm breath washed over your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. You cocked an eyebrow and turned to innocently stare up at him through your lashes. Without another word, he stormed towards the stairs, leaving you in confusion at his sudden anger. It wasn’t often that you saw Jungkook like this, so what could he possibly be so upset over? Not wanting to keep him waiting, you headed upstairs and stopped outside of Jungkook’s closed bedroom door. You knocked gingerly. When there was no answer, you cautiously turned the knob and stepped into the room where Jungkook had his back to you, his shoulders rising and falling as he breathed heavily. You watched as he removed his jacket, leaving him in his sweat slicked t-shirt that hugged tightly against his brawny frame.

“Jungkook…” You pried carefully, afraid that you’d cause him to burst. He whipped around to face you; his jaw clenched as he advanced toward you until your back was pressed against the wall. You stared up at Jungkook exasperatedly as he lifted both of his hands to slam against the wall above you, cornering you against the surface. You felt a hot rush of blush rise in your cheeks as he towered above you. His tall form was intimidating as he stood over you, stepping closer to nearly crush himself against your small frame.

“Y/N, you’ve been getting far too friendly with Jimin lately.” He growled. You attempted to avert your gaze, but Jungkook immediately slid a hand under your chin, forcing you to look up into his darkened eyes.

“What are you talking about?” you spoke timidly, “He was making me laugh and-”

“You think I can’t see the way he gets close to you? Letting his hands graze your waist and holding your hands; it makes me furious to see someone else touch you.” He continued. You tensed as he brought one hand down to tightly grip your waist. “And the way that you’ve been allowing him to do so, even letting your own hands wander at times. No, this won’t do at all.”

“But-” You began but were cut off by Jungkook lowering himself close to you, until his face was mere centimeters from yours. His eyes, glistening with fire, bore into you as he breathed harshly through his nose.  

“I think you need to be taught a lesson about keeping your hands to yourself, Y/N.” He whispered, sending a chill up your spine. Your entire face burned a bright red as he got closer, his lips barely hovering over your own. The scent of him, his sweat mixed with his warm breath, swirled around you, making you feel intoxicated as you breathed it in. You shivered beneath him as each breath sent a dizzying wave through you.

“W-what?” You choked, blinking at him through your lashes as he towered above you. Without another word, Jungkook stepped back, suddenly letting out a low, conniving laugh, and made his way over to the bed where he sat down before lifting a finger to beckon you over. His previously furious expression wavered as a devilish grin now played at his lips. You slowly walked over, utterly confused by his behavior as he grabbed a hold of your hand.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Y/N, and naughty girls like you need to be punished.” He spoke in a deep voice as he lifted a hand to caress your thigh. Pressing his fingers roughly into your skin, his eyes roamed over you, scanning your entire body as he chewed on his bottom lip. Your breathing hitched as his cool fingers trailed further upward, disappearing underneath of your skirt and toying with the fabric of your panties.

“This ass,” he began, “is only for me. Is that understood?” Jungkook leaned forward to grip your jaw with his hand, bringing you closer to him. His other hand gripped your ass tightly, digging his fingers into the plush skin over the fabric of your panties. You gulped and nodded silently before he sloppily crushed his lips against yours, keeping a tight hold on your jaw as his tongue granted itself access and began to roam your mouth. Your lips smacked as he pulled back from you, his eyes darkened with lust as he stared up at you. Despite being unsure of Jungkook’s intentions, his intimidating actions were somehow managing to send a thrilling rush through you.

“Bend over,” Jungkook commanded, gesturing to his knees.

“I said bend over.” He said with a rising sternness in his tone when you failed to move. Jungkook placed a hand to your back, forcing you to lean over his knees. “Do you see how disobedient you’re being? You need to be disciplined.” He growled into your ear as his fingers disappeared underneath of your skirt once more. This time, they hooked around the waistband of your panties before he slowly tugged them downward until they pooled around your ankles.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” You whined but were immediately quieted by his hand cupping over your mouth. Without warning, you heard a swish of air as his other hand lifted up and came back to crack down firmly on your ass. Jungkook rubbed your stinging flesh as you let out a cry muffled by his hand.

“I want you to count how many times I spank you. Outloud, is that understood?” He demanded as you trembled and nodded silently before he removed his hand. Despite being a bit frightened by his tone, you couldn’t help but feel a pool of fire developing in your abdomen and a slight heat between your legs. You couldn’t deny that you were finding his dominance thrilling when his hand cracked down another time, causing you to yelp once more.

“One!” You cried out, your voice echoed throughout the room as you immediately received another sharp slap which caused to you to screw your eyes shut.

“Not so loud, kitten. You don’t want the others to hear, do you?” He cooed, leaning down to nibble your earlobe as he soothed your burning skin. “Now try again, quieter.” He whispered before lifting his hand once more. Spank.

“Two,” you whimpered. Spank.

“Three,” Spank.

“Four,” you continued to count smack after smack as your skin blazed and reddened from Jungkook’s hand until the area began to feel numb. With each spank becoming more forceful, you felt the heat between your legs increase until your thighs were dripping with wetness. Jungkook’s sudden dominance sent a wave of pleasure through you with each grunt he emitted as he cracked down on your ass, smoothing it out with his rough hands after each one.

“Tell me who you belong to.” He demanded, sinking his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“You.” you managed to splutter out in between gasps.

“That’s right,” he growled, “only me.” This time, he brought his hand down to spank you three more times, rapidly without pausing in between to allow the stinging sensation to settle in. Your skin felt like it was afire and you bucked your hips forward in an attempt to relieve the pressure. You tried to bite back a moan, failing miserably as you squirmed over Jungkook’s knees and let out a loud groan.

“Are you enjoying this? Do you like it when I spank you?” He purred as you swallowed hard and nodded, unable to speak as you quaked from the fiery mix of pain and pleasure. By now your legs were practically soaked and you bucked your hips upwards, pleading for Jungkook to stop.

“You’re such a naughty girl, getting pleasure out of punishment. Look at how wet this is making you.” He laughed darkly as his fingers trailed towards your slicked thighs. You also took notice that you weren’t the only one who was finding pleasure in the situation as you felt the growing bump in Jungkook’s jeans poke against your abdomen. You felt his finger dip between your thighs, ghosting over your slit as you swished your hips towards him, begging for his fingers to fill you up.

“Don’t be too eager now.” You received another harsh spank, causing you to mewl softly as he began to glide his fingers along your slit. “Naughty girls like you don’t always get what they want. If you want these fingers inside of you, you’ll have to beg for it.”

“P-please Jungkook,” you keened, “I want it so bad.” Finally, he gave in and you gasped as he dipped one finger inside of you, slowly stretching you out. Your walls clenched around him as he added another finger, falling to a rhythm as he pumped his digits in and out of you. The feeling sent you into bliss as you lifted your hips up towards him, begging for more as he quickened his pace. Your moans echoed throughout the room which was now felt heavy with the scent of your sex. Jungkook’s fingers swirled around inside of you, curving at just the right angle to make your eyes roll back and your entire body pulse with pleasure.

“Jungkook, I’m-” You began, unable to finish your sentence; your vision became starry as the sounds in the room faded into white noise. You clenched around Jungkook’s fingers as you burst into your orgasm, covering them with your heat as you squirmed about over his knees. You went limp as you came down from your high; Jungkook removed his fingers from you and placed both hands on your shoulders, hurriedly pushing you off of his lap.

“Fuck, baby, I need you right now.” He groaned as he immediately stood up and began to fumble with his belt. You rose to your knees as he shoved his jeans down to his ankles and released his erection from his boxer briefs. Jungkook languidly stroked his cock before you reached up to wrap your hand around it followed by your mouth closing around the tip.

“Yeah, just like that baby. Suck my cock just like that.” Your eyes fluttered up to look at Jungkook who had had his head thrown back as a throaty groan emitted from his slightly parted lips. Your tongue swirled around his member as you bobbed your swollen lips along his length. After a moment, Jungkook impatiently reached down to grab a fist full of your hair in each hand. He began snapping his hips forward; thrusting into your mouth as he fell into an impossibly fast rhythm.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna come.” He breathed as he fucked your open mouth, your lips now darkened with saliva that dribbled down your chin. Jungkook pulled his cock out of your mouth before his hand flew downward, hastily pumping it through his fist. He kept one hand in your hair, tilting your head upward as he approached his climax. At once, his breathing hitched before he let out a prolonged groan that bounced off the walls of the room as he released onto your face. Jungkook breathed heavily, slowing his strokes as he finished himself off before bending down to cup your face with his hands.

“You know to suck me just right, baby.” He said, still catching his breath as he lifted you to stand up. You winced as you rose up; your bottom sent a scorching sensation through you with every movement. Jungkook noticed your struggling and leaned around you to admire his work on your ass, tenderly placing a hand on the still reddened flesh.

“Well, I expect that you’ve learned your lesson about being a naughty girl?” He asked smirking as he grasped your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. You nodded as he pressed his lips to yours, tasting himself on your still swollen lips. “And will you misbehave like this again?”

You shook your head vigorously, promising to obey him.

“Good girl,” he grinned, squeezing your ass once more and making you wince quietly, “otherwise, you know what’s in store for you should you decide that you need to be disciplined again.”

***Feel free to send me any requests!***


songs to listen to when you’re sad, for real

Scatman John had a brutal speech impediment that ruined his day-to-day interactions and destroyed his self-confidence so badly that he turned to the piano as the only way he could express himself. While others around him knew that he was an accomplished singer and a student of the “scat” style of singing, Scatman John was content to linger in the background of more accomplished singers for the rest of his life… until he was forced to sing when his frontman caught a cold.

Scatman John was terrified that, since he was unable to speak coherently, he would be unable to sing coherently. But, 30 years after he began performing wordlessly in public, he found himself to be a natural and smooth singer. A music producer took note of the Scatman and offered him a deal, but only if he was willing to play along with the modern trends of the time. A strictly classical jazz pianist, Scatman John reluctantly accepted.

He was a natural. Scatman John never believed that he could connect to a generation so much younger than his own, but found himself speechless when he realized that he was standing in front of a crowd of thousands of European teenagers. Even though he only had two hits in Europe and the Americas, he had managed to bridge the gap between his era and the ‘90s and, all the while, preached messages of encouragement to anyone struggling with a disability.

After his star faded, Scatman happily continued his career in Japan. Even when he was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, the Scatman refused to slow down. He knew that, against seemingly impossible odds, he had overcome with flying colors and had seen true beauty. 

Although Scatman John was a fad in most of the world, he had managed to incorporate his love of jazz with the newfangled world of techno and, in doing so, gain an appreciation of how the ‘90s youth thought and what music they liked to listen to. He overcame his speech impediment through the power of music after literal decades of obscurity and spread his message of positivity as loud and clear as he could possibly muster, across languages, until his peaceful death.

Scatman John, we salute you.

*All My Fault* Newt x reader

◘ Anonymous asked:

Do you think you could possibly do an imagine where the reader and Newt are best friends but when Newt meets Tina he starts to ignore the reader. During the battle with Graves Newt gets really hurt while protecting the reader and Tina tells the reader to back off because it’s her fault. Can the reader act like everything’s fine but slowly stop eating and sleeping because of guilt until Newt notices. Lots of angst but a happy ending please. I hope this isn’t any trouble. Thank you!

This does include a salty, mean Tina. So beware. Take note I am not a Tina hater! But if you don’t like Tina written in a negative light, then this probably isn’t for you >.< That’s all! Carry on ^_^

Your stop in New York City alongside your best friend, Newt Scamander, had become a bit more adventurous than you two had initially planned. Unfortunately, some of Newt’s creatures had escaped his magical case and were scattered throughout the city. With the help of the new ‘friends’ you had made, you tried to work together to recapture them.

You didn’t dislike the new people you had met. In fact, Queenie was perhaps your favorite. Her constant smile and bubbly personality were welcoming and you warmed up to her rather quickly. Jacob, the no maj, was friendly and caring; someone you definitely enjoyed being around. Tina, however, seemed to capture Newt’s attention quite quickly and ever since he had spend nearly most of his time with her. Besides the fact that she had tried to turn you both in to MACUSA, Newt seemed to fancy her and seemed to pay less attention to you which honestly made you feel pretty awful. Newt had been by your side for years and you couldn’t imagine your life without him. He was like the sun in the sky and the stars at night for you. 

You were currently in search of one of Newt’s creatures, the Demiguise also known to you and Newt as Dougal. You were inside a Department store that was adorned in Christmas decorations and you were all huddled behind a giant mass of decorative wrapped gifts. 

Keep reading

Escape:  the residency years

Warning:  This isn’t the happiest of chapters.

Special thanks to @joannclelia for her help. And to anon for the ending advice.

“What have ye for lunch then?”  

She turned the phone around to show him her tray.  Pasta, of course.  An orange.  Spinach salad.  Good.  Bottle of water.  Then, just on the edge of her tray…

“Claire.  What was that?”  

She flipped the phone back to her face.  “What was what, darling? You can see I have a very healthy lunch, and I’m sitting down, relaxing while I eat.  With Louise,” she turned the phone towards her companion, a pretty nurse with long brown hair.

“Right there!  Is that a brownie?”  He could hear her giggle, and say shhhh.

Her face was barely straight as she looked him.  “No.  That’s Louise’s, not mine.”

“Non, ce n’est pas le mien!” Jamie heard the indignant voice out of view. 

“Sassenach, I ken ye like the French pastries, but come on.  Ye had a pain au chocolat at breakfast, now this. Last night, some cake.  How about ye not give birth to a diabetic, eh?”  

Claire smiled, and blew him a kiss.  “No pudding at dinner tonight.  Promise.” 

Jamie nodded, pursed his lips, and blew a kiss back.  “Enjoy yer lunch.  I’ll speak wi’ ye later.  Take it easy, okay?”

“I will.” Claire said, as she waved at her screen.

“I love you, mo neighean donn.  Give the bairn a kiss from his Da.” 

“You mean her.”  Claire kissed her fingers and pressed them on her bump. “Love you, too, Jamie,” she said, and disconnected.

When it was time to go back, Claire gathered up her tray, and stood.  

She looked at her chair in confusion.  There was a large mark on her seat. What had she spilled?  

It wasn’t until she heard Louise’s gasp that she realized something was wrong. 

She felt the sticky wetness on her scrubs, but couldn’t really see past her belly.

A moment later she felt the rush of something between her legs.  She could smell the blood.  

Her tray dropped to the floor, bouncing off the end of the table on its way down, shattering everything.  

Far away someone was screaming.

It was her. 

“I just talked to her.  I just talked to her at lunch.  She was fine.  I just saw her.” Jamie kept repeating the same thing.  He sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk, tears in his eyes, bewildered, confused.  

Jenny catapulted into action.  She snapped a finger at her assistant, pointing. The woman already had the phone receiver in her hand.  “I need Ian, here, right now.  For Jamie.  Alec needs to bring the car around right away.  And get a private plane ready to leave for Paris immediately.  Charge the company.”  

“You,” she pointed at Willie, “come with me.”  Willie, who had shown up with Jamie, was pale and panicked.  He stepped into line with her as she strode down the hall.  “We need Jamie’s passport, and -”

“Oh! I have it.  All of Jamie’s travel documents are in his office.” Willie was glad he had that, at least. 

“Good.  Now, gather all that up and, listen carefully, ye need to get his art supplies.”  Jenny stopped, and put a hand on Willie’s arm.  “He draws when he’s stressed.  He’ll need the distraction.  Get it all together and give it to Ian.” She pushed him forward, “Now go!”

Willie streaked off to do her bidding.

Jenny had Alec drive at break neck speed to Jamie and Claire’s flat.   She threw what she could into a bag, jeans, tee shirts, a few socks, trainers, jacket. She threw some things in for Claire as well.  Soft sleep pants and a softer sweater.  Toiletries.  Where the hell was his underwear!?!  She opened a top drawer and rummaged around.  

The small gold object caught her eye.  She hadn’t seen it in years. Instinctively, she grabbed it, and slamming the drawer shut, turned to go.  She was in and out of the flat in 15 minutes.  

Ian and Jamie were waiting inside the small terminal when she got there.  Her brother was turning his phone over and over in his large hands.  She put the bag next to his feet in silence.    

When the flight was ready, Jenny walked Jamie to the steps.  Ian handed the steward the bag.    

“Jenny, I-“

“Shhhh, brother.”  She grabbed Jamie around his shoulders and hugged him tight.  His arms gripped her as he buried his face in her neck.  God, he was burrowing in like Wee Jamie after he’s fallen off his bike. She had no words for him.  She would not lie and tell him it would be all right.  Lord only knew what was happening in France.  “Give Claire a hug for me, and tell her I love her.” Jamie nodded against her neck.  She turned quickly and gave him a kiss on his temple.  

Grabbing his hand, she pressed the small oval piece into his palm.  “I found this.  Take it.  Let it give ye strength.”  

Jamie looked at it, eyes wide.

“Go on,” Jenny said.  “Call me as soon as you know something.”

Jamie let go, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded, looking at the tarmac the whole time.  

He turned towards the plane, but found himself in a hard embrace.  Ian gripped his brother-in-law, and friend tightly.  No words were exchanged. Whatever one needed, the other would give.  They had been through too much together, their bond understood.  Ian was the one person who knew exactly what Jamie was thinking and feeling.  

How life could change in the blink of an eye.

How you could be whole, and happy, feeling right with the world, and then have your heart and mind shattered like the cracks in a windshield after a crash, spreading out in front of you until you can’t see anything of the world at all. Just fragments.  Fractures.  Shattered pieces.  Or worse yet, missing.  

Jamie sat alone on the plane looking out of the window as Scotland disappeared below him.  He still had the token from Jenny in his hand.  He closed his fist around it, hard, and looked out at the clouds surrounding him. He raised his eyes higher, heavenward.  Lord that she may be safe. She and the child.  

It was all over when he arrived.  

He was ushered to a waiting room, and made to sit by himself.  Finally, a small toad-like man entered, and introduced himself as Dr. Raymond.  His first thought was, Claire said ye looked like a frog.  She wasna wrong.  Jamie’s mouth lifted in half a smile as he stood to extend his hand to the doctor.  

Raymond explained that Claire was currently receiving some units of blood to replace what she’d lost.  Once assured Claire would be fine, Jamie had asked about his child.  

The wee man barely came up to the centre of Jamie’s chest, yet his words had the power to knock him backwards, stumbling into a chair.   

His child was mort-nè.  

Still born.  

Jamie felt fragile, paper thin, like velum, that if he moved too fast or spoke to loudly he would tear in half.   

“Your wife suffered a placental abruption.  This is when the placental lining separates from the uterus.  Sometimes the mother does not feel anything, and sometimes she feels, maybe, some pain in the back.  Unfortunately, the infant was not receiving enough oxygen in utero, so….” The doctor paused, then said in his heavy French accent, “I am sorry for your loss, Monsieur.”

Jamie nodded, and swallowed.  His emotions were so raw, he found himself unable to speak.  His thoughts were a tangle, like a net cast out to sea and caught on a rocky shore.  Fear wrapped itself around his gut, making him wonder if this was, somehow, his fault.  

“Can I ask ye a question?” Jamie said.

Dr. Raymond blinked slowly, and nodded once.    

“Is this my fault?  Should I – “ Jamie stopped.  It was difficult to talk of personal things, private things.  

He thought back to the night before she left, how he drove into his wife, hard and fast, angry that she was leaving, desperate to have her knowing he would miss her, with fear in his veins over their impending separation. More like making a point, than making love. He would rather die than to have been the one to cause the tear.

He gathered his courage, began again.  “The last time, when I had, well, sex with my wife…should I have been gentler?  Maybe….maybe been more considerate of her…of her….condition?”  

The physician simply shook his head, and said quite bluntly, “No, Monsieur. That is not the cause.  You are a fine husband.  It is not possible.”  

Absolved of his sin, Jamie sat back in the chair and exhaled.

But that didn’t absolve Claire.  Jamie took a deep breath, then said what was on his mind next, a thought that was eating at him like a corrosive.  

“I never wanted her to come, ye see.  She…Claire…she doesna do things in half measure, ye ken.  I worried she’d overdo.  So.”  He looked Dr. Raymond straight in the eye, and asked, “Did she?  Did she do too much?  On her feet all hours?  Not stopping, or getting proper rest?” 

Jamie rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them.  He felt ice cold to the marrow of his bones.  “Tell me she rested.  Tell me she took care, that this wasna her fault, either,” he whispered, ashamed, “because I don’t…I don’t want to hate my wife.”  

Dr. Raymond looked at this red man.  The aura around him.  He would fight to the death for the things he loved.  Raymond understood he was fighting now. Fighting for the love that was being consumed by his fear.

“Monsieur Fraser, I can tell you that many times the cause is unknown. Sometimes the placenta does not attach in a place that provides adequate support, and it may not develop appropriately, or it may separate as it grows.” The little man leaned forward in an effort to reassure Jamie, “I can tell you that Dr. Fraser was not reckless or foolish.  Anyone could see that the child in her womb came first.”

The door opened then, and the young nurse he’d seen from Claire’s video called for the doctor. He couldn’t follow all of her rapid French, but when Dr. Raymond jumped up, Jamie instinctively followed.  

He stepped inside the room.  Claire’s room.  A Dhia, she looked so pale.  She was as stark a white as the hospital linens, the dark of her hair like an ink blot on the pillow.  Her arm thin, slack, even though the deep red liquid flowing through the tube in her arm was promising life.  

He understood a few words.  Fever.  Infection.  

Jamie watched in shock as the little man laid his hands on Claire.  Her shoulders, her arms.  Murmuring in French the entire time.  He sent the nurse for another drip, and she scurried out of the room hardly sparing Jamie a glance.  He flinched as the doctor ran his hands over Claire’s breasts, and down her torso, lightly but touching her all the same.  The healer then placed his hands over his wife’s womb, and Claire writhed in pain.  

More blood.  Jesus, God, how could there be so much blood.

And then, his name.

Ripped from Claire.  In pain.  In desperation.  Like a magnet, it drew him.  It was strange, how his name dragged from her remaining strength reverberated in his soul.  He took a step towards her before he’d realized he’d moved, and found himself stopped with a vise grip on his arm.  He turned to find a large woman, Hildegard according to the name tag, telling him, “Vous devez partir, Monsieur.”

When she woke up she was a bit disoriented.  Memory surfaced.  Grief washed over her like a tidal wave.  For a moment she could not breathe.  

Turning her head she saw her 6’4” husband folded into a tiny chair beside her bed.  She had no memory of his arrival. 

He was sketching.  He looked tired, wan, pale.  His eyes darting over his drawing as his big hand moved in strong sure strokes.  

“Do you hate me for it, Jamie?” she whispered, wanting to know.  Her biggest fear, that Jamie would blame her.  What was more pain?  Better to roll it all into one great big ball of grief, and deal with it.

He jumped.  “Didna realize ye were awake, Sassenach.”  Jamie set down his computer.  

Claire relaxed at the use of her nickname.  

“Jamie, I’m so sorry.  So very, very sorry.  I put myself before our family.  This is all my fault.”  

“Shhh, mo neighean donn.  Yer a doctor, ye ken well it’s no’ yer fault.”  Jamie moved his chair closer to her bed, and took one small, weak, long-fingered hand in his two large ones. Tears slipped from her eyes at his gentleness.  

Jamie didn’t have any words.  There was nothing to say.   He couldn’t fix what happened.  He couldn’t change the loss.  He could just share it.  

They sat like that for some time.  Glancing at each other.  Letting their hands speak for them, thumbs stroking, fingers squeezing, softly rubbing.  Jamie’s thumb touched her ring from time to time.  

Finally, Claire spoke.  “I want to see her.”

“My wife,” Jamie stopped.  Cleared his throat.  “My wife wants to see our child.” He stood in front of the nurses’ station, hands clenched into balls at his side, standing as tall as he could.

“Ce n’est pas possible, Monsieur,” said Nurse Hildegarde.  It wasn’t the answer Jamie wanted.  He had been powerless to this point.  This, however, he would control.  

“I didna ask yer permission.  I didna say can she, I said she wants to.  So she doesna have to imagine.”  He willed himself not to raise his voice, to keep his anger in check.  

The young nurse, Louise, looked up at him.  She looked at her superior. Stand-offs like this were rare.  Usually no one questioned Nurse Hildegard. Everyone stopped to look at the large, grieving, red haired man.  Nurse Hildegarde opened her mouth to speak again, but caught sight of the little practitioner behind Monsieur Fraser.

“Soeur Hildegard. Presénter l’enfant à Dr. et M. Fraser.  Vous avez ma permission.”   

Claire was sitting up in bed when he entered the room.  The bundle in his arms was so tiny.  A pink blanket.   As he came nearer she could see the tiny face peeking through.  Sleeping.  No, Claire remembered, not sleeping.  

“Her hair,” Jamie said, smiling sadly, “she’s got my hair.”

Claire raised her arms for the baby, and Jamie gently handed her their child as if handling fragile glass.  There was that awkward bobble of a new dad not sure what he’s doing to a new mom too eager to hold her baby.  They both chuckled at that.  Jamie sat on the edge of the bed, his arm around his wife, the other under her arms that held the baby.  They stayed like that, silently, as Claire unwrapped parts of their bairn, counting ten fingers, and ten toes. Stroking the luminescent skin.  She chuckled at the tiny ears, which stuck out a bit, like Jamie’s.  He nudged her in understanding, chuffed.  So beautiful.

And then Claire began to sing.

When Nurse Louise came in an hour later she was moved by the tableau before her.  Her friend, Claire, rocking slowly, humming.  Jamie, her husband, sitting stoic beside her.  Neither taking their eyes from their child.  

She approached the bed. 

“Ma Chere, Claire.  Il est temps.”

When Louise left the room closing the door behind her, Claire thoroughly and completely went to pieces.  

Jamie held his wife across his lap.  

And did the same.

Sitting on the private plane to go home Claire looked out the window at the terminal traffic.  Everyone so busy, oblivious to the people they were shuttling on to planes, the bags they were loading, the lives they were moving along. Jamie sat beside her, holding her hand.  They spoke little.  She still couldn’t believe they were alone on this plane.  Jamie insisted.  He said he’d had enough of strangers.  

“I don’t want to forget her face,” Claire whispered, head back, curls pressed against the head rest.  “I’m afraid I’ll forget her face.”

Jamie let go of her hand.  “I ken it may be strange.  I’m sorry if it bothers ye. But I had to,” he said, quietly, apologetically.  He fumbled in his pocket.  “For Jenny.  For my sister.  She would want to see, ye ken.  She’s all I’ve got for family, other than you, Claire.”

There, on his phone screen, looking as if she was sleeping peacefully, was Faith Elizabeth Fraser. 

One year later

They walked slowly through the cemetery.  Jamie’s hands deep in his pockets, as he did when he was nervous.  Claire’s arms were crossed in front of her, as she did when she was nervous, a bouquet of tulips gripped in her hand.  They walked as if they really didn’t want to arrive at their destination, lost in their own thoughts, steps hesitant.  

It was the first time they would visit her grave.  One year to the day when she passed.  

“She should be over here.”  Jamie hung back and let Claire step up first.
Claire’s gasp was audible from where he stood.  She dropped to her knees, and laid a hand reverently on the stone.  A stone.  She hadn’t expected a stone.  They hadn’t ordered one.  She expected a simple marker, not this beautiful, pale pink granite slab. 

Jamie crouched beside her.  He cleared his throat.  “A Da can only give what he can to his bairn.  I’m an artist.  So.  I gave her a resting place, wit’ her name and our names, and placed her in the care of her grandparents.  Yers and mine.”  He brushed a leaf off the corner of the stone.  “And I left a bit of Scotland wi’ her.”

She traced the tiny gold medal imbeded in the stone under Faith’s name. “What is this?”

“It’s St. Andrew,” Jamie said.  “My father used to carry the medal around in his pocket. It would remind him to pray, to ask for intercession when he needed it. It became mine.  Jenny gave it to me when I left for France.  When I ordered the stone I gave it to them, along with the design.”  

They stayed for a long time, holding hands, lost in their own thoughts.  
Jamie stood, and pulled his wife to her feet.  Wrapping his arms around her shoulders he buried his face in her sweet smelling curls.  The sun shone warm on their faces, as Jamie swayed from side to side.

“So.  Now would be a good time to tell me something, Claire Fraser,” he said, next to her ear.  “Anything ye like.”  

Claire butted backwards and hit her husband in the crotch.  He let out a soft “oof” and laughed.

“I have nothing to say, James Fraser,” she said, in her haughtiest tone.   

“Hmpf,” Jamie made a Scottish noise, and turned Claire around to face him. “Yer sure, then?”  

Claire stood on tiptoes and kissed her husband full on the lips. “Five days is not a long time, you know that.”

“Aye, but yer never late.”  He grinned at her.  “It’s fine, Sassenach.  I’ll wait. Besides,” he said softly, “I have you.  And faith.”  

Stress Relief - Wolverine x Reader (NSFW)

I currently have no life…For real, sent me your requests, I have a broken wrist and nothing better to do than write “x reader” things because I enjoy them.

Another piece with Logan, this time, he needs to relieve some stress. Totally NSFW by the way, fluff and SMUT yo. First one I write actually, so, sorry if it sucks. So, yeah, you know.



When Logan came up with the idea of making a new school for mutants, you didn’t expect it to be that stressful. It had been quite some times since Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters closed. After the professor’s death, it just wasn’t the same anymore…But there were still kids all around the world in need of help. Kids that parents chased away, kids that were forced out of their homes, or kids that were just too powerful to take care of themselves without hurting anybody else. You agreed with your boyfriend, there was a need for a new school…Ororo and Kurt directly jumped in. They missed teaching as much as you. And eventually, you opened your own school. Jean Grey’s institute for higher learning. You didn’t really like the name, as you and Jean never seen eye to eye (probably because Logan used to be crazy about her, and that she was a bit jealous that he completely forgot his feelings towards her when you entered his life), but you thought it was a cute hommage nonetheless.

Logan and Ororo became headmasters, and you were happy that you’d declined the offer to be one, because it was Hell to take care of a school like that. You didn’t know how Professor Xavier did it all those years.

A particularly stressful day took you to Logan’s office.

On the door was a handwritten note stating : « Taking a break, fuck off !! ». You smiled at it, imagining Logan becoming very angry at whoever knocked on his door…Whoever but you.

You knocked.

-Can’t you fucking read !! I’m busy !

-Busy relaxing ?

You heard his heavy footsteps coming from his desk to the door. He opened it and as soon as his eyes met yours, his harsh expression soften. He took your hand and led you in, closing the door behind you. You knew right there and then that he had a bad day, as he didn’t attack your lips with his mouth, pinning you on the door and tearing away your clothes. Instead, he gestured for you to sit in a chair in front of his desk, as he went around to rest in his own chair.

He looked exhausted, both physically and mentally, and your heart ache a bit to see him in such a state. Oh no, that wouldn’t do. You needed to make your Wolverine feel relaxed for good.

You didn’t take the seat he gestured to, and instead went around his desk, and settled yourself behind his chair. He looked at you curiously, twisting his neck to see your face. You rested your head on his shoulder and gently kissed his jaw, his neck. You could already feel his tensed muscles relaxed a bit. He let out a content sigh.

Probably to the surprise of many, The Wolverine, behind closed door, loved being affectionate, and loved receiving affection. Hugs, kisses, snuggles…and lots of sex. With him, sex was never boring, wether he was making sweet love to you or fucking you roughly. Your needs always came first, and that’s how he liked it. But today, he needed you more.

You lifted your head from his neck, he groaned at the lost of you, and you smiled. You started to massage his shoulders, applying the perfect pressure, according to his low moans.

-I don’t know if your muscles are tense, or if it’s just your adamantium bones that I feel right now, but it’s hard. Don’t you dare make a dick joke.

-Haha, didn’t even cross my mind, too tired. And I’m pretty sure it’s a bit of both.

-Tough day ?

-Tough fucking month.

-I hear ya. Some of the kids have been a bit of a…handful.

-Kids, parents, teachers, paperworks, damn bamfs…Everything here is a handful.

-Well, you asked for it.

-Shut up.

You laughed and kept massaging his shoulder. Your hand slowly crept under his red flannel and over his muscular chest, all the way down his abs, tracing the well defined muscles with the tip of your fingers. You gently unbotonned the shirt while doing so. He didn’t stop you, and let his head fall back on your shoulder as he closed his eyes, enjoying your touch.

-This is nice.

-Yeah ?

-Yeah. You’re definitely a good stress relief darlin’.

You smiled as you resumed kissing his neck, nibling slightly there and there. He raised one of his hands and tangled it in your hair, tugging lightly on it so that you’d raise your head. Your eyes met. You kissed his forehead, you could feel him totally relaxed under your hands. He gave you a weak half-smile, and you knew he wanted to speak, to tell you how he felt, but couldn’t. He wasn’t the kind of man to just express his feelings with words much, but when it happened, it made your heart sing. However today, he just didn’t had the strength in him to conjure words to explain what was going on in his head, in his heart. So you just leaned in and kissed him, you bent down behind him, him twisting slightly his neck up to reach you. The hand he had in your hair stayed there, and tugged once again to direct you around the chair to face him. It started as a sweet and tender kiss, but it was definitely beginning to get hungrier. You straddled him on the chair, and his other hand went to support you on the small of your back.

His tongue licked tentatively on your lower lips, and you gladly let him slip it in your mouth, not even fighting for dominance, giving it to him right away.

You pulled away and he groaned, trying to get you close again, but you resisted, and he just stared at you with an annoyed look in his eye. He wasn’t in the mood for teasing…but that wasn’t what you had in mind at all.

You got off of his laps, and started to trail kisses on his jaw, down his neck, on his chest, licking slightly over his right nipple, biting there and there, slowly going further down, down, down…

-I like where this is going.

You winked at him. You knew he liked giving more than receiving, but on days like this, he would gladly let you do whatever you wanted to him. One hand caressed his abs softly, as the other unnuckled his belt with expert fingers. He raised his hips to allow you to slowly take his pants and boxers down, letting his half hard cock out free. In just a light touch on the side of his shaft, you saw it raised quickly to become hard as a rock. He was staring at you, mesmerized at the effect you could have on him. Before you, it’d take him quite a while to get even half-hard. Which is why he was big on the foreplay. He never had a problem having an erection, but it always took time and work to get him fully there…while you, a swipe of your fingers and he was gone. You just smiled shyly, and fisted your hand around his lenght, squeezing just a tiny bit. He held his breath, and grip the side of his desk chair in anticipation. You slowly stroked him, putting your head on your free hand lazily. He just scoffed, and you got the message. He really wasn’t for the teasing right now.

You kissed his thighs, and, while resting a hand on his abdomen, you stroked his cock more firmly with the other one. He grabbed the hand caressing his abs, and squeezed it. He felt your lips rise in a smile on his tigh, and you raised your head, locking your eyes with his. With a sultry look, you started licking his tip slowly, tasting the saltyness of pre-cum. He let out a groan of pleasure, and the hand that wasn’t holding yours slipped back into your hair. You licked his cock from top to bottom while still stroking him, enjoying his little moans there and there.


He pleaded, and you took your cue to finally put him in your mouth. You sucked on him, hard, your head bobbing up and down faster and faster, stroking what couldn’t fit in your mouth. You had no gag reflex, so you let him kick the back of your throat repeatedly. You felt his hand tightened in your hair, and with a gentle caress of your hand on his chest, he understood that he didn’t had to hold himself, as he started to set the pace he needed by guiding your head with his hand. The obsene sounds of suckling filled the room, and you realized that, even though there was an angry note on his door, someone could interupt the two of you, and it would be extremely awkward…with the help of your telekinetic powers, you locked the door, the click it made distracting Logan for a split second, before he understood and the hand in your hair became even more eager, almost hurting your neck by forcing your head up and down quickly. He realized that you might be uncomfortable and tried to ease his move, forcing himself not to buck his hips in your mouth…but you erased every worries by slightly tapping his abs with the hand he was holding.

He fucked your mouth mercilessly, feeling the knot in his lower stomach tighten and tighten, reaching a point of extreme ecstasy.

He tried to pull your head away, unable to speak and therefor to tell you he was going to come. He didn’t really like coming in your mouth, as he thought it was somewhat disrespectful…but you snaped his hand away and kept on sucking hard. Your name on his lips, and a heartfelt « I love you » later, and he let his seed came all at once, so much of it that it overloaded your mouth, and you slowly took him out, wiping the corner of your mouth, and smiling at him.

He was panting, trying to catch his breath after his strong orgasm, but he stopped you as you were going to tuck him back in. No, he wasn’t going to let you go that easily. But he needed a minute, that you gave him, letting wet kisses all over his chest, collarbone and neck.

When his breathing calmed down, he gripped your arms, not hard enough to hurt you, but enough for you to understand that he was back in control, and that he also needed that.

You let him do whatever he had in mind.

He reached for you, grabbing you under your thighs to ease you up on his desk. He dragged his chair closer, and pulled you down for a kiss. Even sitting lower than you, he could reach you easily, as you were quite short.

He could taste himself on your tongue. With loving movement, he took your shirt off, and your bra, kissing between the valley of your breast. You thought that in this position, someone could see you threw the window, and with a swipe of your hand, you closed the curtains. You felt his smile while as he was gently biting on your pulsing point. He licked quickly around one of your nipple, flicking the other with his fingers. He loved the feeling of your breasts’ soft skin, and he fondled away.

In one swift movement he took your pants off, without unattaching his mouth from your hardening nipple, biting a bit more roughly. As you did to him, he slowly kissed down your body, and, bringing his chair ever so closer, ligned his face with your sex.

-I don’t have to ask if you’re enjoying yourself, do I ?

He smuggly said as he lighly brushed one finger at your slick entrance. You were dripping.

He didn’t waste any time and made you gasp as he lapped at your cunt eagerly. Logan had a thing for eating you out, and you knew it, so, even if you were dying to feel him inside of you, you decided that his tongue was going to do fine for now. He gripped your thigh with force and made you buck your hips in his face, licking and sucking shamelessly. Yes, his tongue was definitely going to be fine for now. He made sure to leave countless marks every where on your inner thigh and around your sex, just for his personal enjoyment later.

You tried to muffle your moans and cries as best you could, knowing there could be people in the corridor just outside his office, but he made it so difficult.

You could feel your orgasm building up quickly, his tongue left you for a split second as he licked his fingers. You knew what was coming…and you were right. He finished you by rubbing your clit between two fingers, while his tongue was still inside you, and he slowly inserted a finger of his other hand in your arsehole, making sure it wouldn’t be uncomfortable, but quite the opposite.

You screamed of pleasure in your hands, muffling the sound as best you could, and he kept licking you threw your orgasm to prolonged it, waiting for you to stop shaking before pulling away.

He directed you into his laps once more, and you rested your head on his chest, fondling lovingly with his coarse chest hair.

-Relaxed yet ?

-Not quite.

-Really ?

-Well, ready for round two ?

You smiled and looked at him, a hint of challenge in your eyes.  

-Sir, I originaly came here just to check if you were alright, cuddle a bit maybe, nothing more.

-Yeah, and then you just…came.

You wacked his chest lightly, and pulled him down for a heated kiss. He raise you and sat you down on his desk once again, lining himself up with your entrance.

-Are you ready darlin’ ?

-For you, always.

Kissing you once again, he pushed into you in one swift thrust, and you both swallowed each other’s moans. He stilled, letting you adjust to his size and grumbled :

-No matter how many times I enter you, you’re always so goddamn tight.

-No -you had difficulties talking when he was fully sheathed inside you like so- you’re just too big.

Your kisses were getting sloppy, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him even further in. He was all the way to the hilt now. You sucked on his neck, leaving love bites, as you whimpered to him the word he had been waiting for : « Move ».

He slowly pulled all the way out, before slamming back into you, so hard that it made his desk creak. Your hunger for each other knew no bounds, and your hips met him thrust for thrust.

He pushed you so that you’re back was on the desk, he was still standing between your legs, his hands holding your shoulder onto the desk to pound into you roughly, just like he knew you liked. Your hands grip his forearms for some support, and both of you had the hardest time not making any loud sound, the sound of skin slapping skin insanely obscene in the silence of the room. He set a fast and hard pace that made your eyes roll to the back of your head, and if his groans and desperate little cries were any indications, he was also very much enjoying himself. The man had the stamina of a horse, and you weren’t so bad yourself, this could go for a long time. After a while, you said :

-Flip me.

In a breath, and he obliged. Not loosing the connection, he expertly flipped you on your stomach, and with this new angle hit all the right places. Unable to hold yourself, you cried out, and he placed one of his hand on your mouth while the other griped your waist to keep slamming into you. You gripped the corner of his desk so hard your knuckles were turning white, you were definitely goin to walk a bit funny for a while.

After a few minutes, he felt his knee start to buckle, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to finish in this position, so he took you with him as he fell back in his chair with a loud thud, and continue to fuck you in a reverse cow girl position. His pace faltered, and he slowed down, caressing your entire body with loving hands. You pressed your back against him, and just enjoyed the tender moment. You were a flexible woman, and you flipped yourself to look at him in the eye, slowly riding him as you knew you were both very close from exploding. He quickened his hips again, and you slammed down his member hard.

You both threw your heads back for a silent cry, your orgasms racking violently threw your bodies. You could feel his seed warming your insides, as he felt you clench around him, unable to hold anything back. You fell in each other’s arms, exhausted and beyond pleased, shaking slightly. Your heavy breaths filled the room. Logan was embracing you, as if he was afraid you’d suddenly disappear…You definitely fulfilled your duty, you relaxed your Wolverine with success. He was melting in your arm, content beyond measure, whispering words of love and devotion in your ear.

A knock on the door disturbed your peace, and you hurriedly pulled off of him and tried to gather your clothes thrown aphazardly around the room. A slight panic in your eyes, as Logan pulled his pants up, and buttoned his flannel back.

Storm’s voice came in threw the door.

-Logan, when you’re done having sex with Y/N, could I please talk to you ? It’s quite important, we’ve got a school to run here !

The Wish Spell

Summary:  You use a spell to make a wish come true with unexpected results.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel, OFC Sal

Word Count: 5772

Warnings: smut, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, language, fluff, wee bit of angst, mention of past abuse

A/N:  This one is close to my heart.  I hope you like it and I’d love to hear your feedback.  MAJOR shout out to the wonderful, lovely and helpful @wheresthekillswitch for being my beta on this.  There’s no way I would have achieved what I wanted without your help.  And thank you to the fantastic @arryn-nyxx for the beautiful aesthetic!​ Thank you!


You didn’t mean for it to happen, not really.  You’d hoped sure, but that didn’t mean you were actually expecting it to work.  You’d been out with your friends celebrating the long weekend but the pit of loneliness grew to a crater the moment you were home.  Since you’d had a few too many beers you started researching wishes.  That led you to spells and then before you knew it you were rummaging through your house for a candle and printing out a picture.  You wrote your name, birthday and wish on the picture then you folded it three times.  You lit a candle and held the paper over it till it caught fire and burned out.  You were tired of being alone, but you were also terrified to make a connection.  After the flame went out you curled up into bed and you dreamt of him, but that wasn’t out of the ordinary; you dreamt of him often.

The next morning you wake up and as you stretch your arms out you bump into something.  You shoot up and look over and there he is sitting on your bed his green eyes looking back at you.  Dean Winchester.  He’s leaning back on his hands with his long legs out in front of him.  He’s wearing a flannel shirt and jeans and he even has his boots on.  You sit staring at him unable to think or to speak.  He purses his full lips then smirks at you.

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Morning Pleasures

Pairing: Cas x Reader

Prompt: Waking up to Cas after having a very pleasant dream

Tags: Smut, oral sex (female receiving), a bit of dom!cas, established relationship, morning sex

Words: 2047

A/N: I wrote this while an old lady was sitting across from me. Enjoy.

Originally posted by ardysgurl

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Be Careful (Tony X Daughter!Reader, Peter X Fem!Reader)

Characters: Tony X Daughter!Reader, Peter X Fem!Reader

Universe: Marvels, Avengers

Warnings: Blood, getting shot


Request: Hi could you do one where the reader is Tony’s teenage daughter who’s dating Peter and she’s just the type of person everyone loves but she’s also a really good hacker and fighter so she does missions sometimes and she ends up getting shot? I really love your writing.

Originally posted by crazyneoncupcake

Originally posted by akamatthewmurdock

Peter was walking you home after your date with him. It was a normal thing for you to have dates the night before you were to go on a mission.

You were the daughter of Tony Stark, and like your dad, was extremely smart. However instead of suits and weapons, you did hand to hand combat and hacking. When Fury figured out you would hack into SHIELD’s files for fun, he signed you up before telling your father. He didn’t know whether to be mad or proud of you. At least he took it better than when he caught you kissing Peter and finding out you were in a relationship.

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For You

Desc: Kai wants to open up about your relationship to the others, but you’re scared it will only backfire and wound up hurting him.

Fluff, kisses, etc.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There was a rasp of knuckles against the glass window pane, and an unmistakable smile winked out at you in the darkness as you tiptoed towards the source. You grabbed at the wooden frame, sliding the window up and cocking your head silently at a mischievous looking Kai Parker. It was two in the morning and he was alert and awake as ever, wearing a jean jacket over an old tee with black skinnies, his dark converse covered in the dirt from your garden. He giggled with contempt when met with your exasperated expression, to which you shushed him with a signal of your finger to your lips. He rolled his eyes and extended his arm for a hand, even though he was very capable of getting in without your help.

“What are you doing here?” you said, closing the window after him and quickly shutting your bedroom door.

“Cute room,” he ignored you, looking at the white walls covered in a patchwork of photos and glowing string lights.

“Kai,” you urged.

“Is it so bad for me to want to see you?” he pouted with false sadness, lower lip jutting out as he gave you those blue puppy eyes.

“I thought we agreed on no more midnight visits,” you whispered, leaning your back against the door.

“It’s not midnight, it’s two in the morning, you’re welcome,” he winked.

You ran your hands across your face with an agitated shake of your head.

“Plus,” he winked, “I like coming now, when you look really cute in your pj’s.”

You dropped your hands and gave a snort at yourself, looking over your clothes; oversized white sweatshirt, battered blue knee socks that stretched up your legs, and a messy pony that stuck out here and there.

“You do, princess” he insisted, stepping closer, the distance of your bodies clearly bothering him. He pulled you in gently by the wrists, lips planting to your forehead before he brought his arms slinking back around your waistline.

“Kai,” you bit at the inside of your cheek, “you do remember I’m living with Elena, right? As in, Elena Gilbert who hates your guts? If she or anyone else finds out about us, can you imagine what that would get me into?!”

Kai’s plump lips spread into that familiar smirk, dimples lighting his cheeks, “so there’s an us?”

You rolled your eyes, but seeing Kai flash a patient and goofy smile, chuckled in defeat, “Yes, okay, fine, there’s an us.” But…I,” your smile faltered as you pieced together a troubling thought.

“What?” Kai said with sudden worry, “tell me.” He closed the gap between your bodies, knuckles coming up to stroke your cheek lightly.

“I love what we have, Kai. And I don’t want to lose it, but if we get caught…” you trailed off.

Kai froze, his expression going serious, blue eyes saddening,”Y/N.”

“Yeah?” you raised your head, eyes meeting with his, which he promptly pulled away, his jaw pulsating lightly.

“Answer me honestly,” he whispered to the wooden floor.

You nodded, trying to catch his gaze to no prevail.

“Are you embarrassed to be with me?” he said quietly.

Your eyebrows drew together in surprise, lips tilting down, “what?”

Kai’s expression was pained as he flickered his attention back up to you, “honestly,” he said again.

“No, no,” of course not,” you murmured, fingers coming up to graze his stubble and tilt his set jaw back up to your eyes. “Why would you say that?”

He sighed and chewed at his lower lip, releasing his hold around you.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he sighed, voice low. “But I’m not ashamed of ‘what we have here,’ and clearly you are since we’ve been playing this game for weeks.”

You closed your eyes and turned away, pacing lightly as you formulated your next words.

“It’s not like that, Kai,” you breathed lamely.

“So then what? Why do we sneak around like this all the time, I-I hate it,” he stammered, shaking his head.

You stopped in your tracks, feet planting to the ground. You raised your head, and in the reflection of the glass window you could see Kai staring at you, blue eyes glistening and slender fingers twisting at his silver rings with worry.

“I want to…” he trailed off softly, his bright eyes meeting yours in the reflection.

“Want to what?” you stood your ground, heart hammering away.

“I want to hold your hand,” Kai whispered, approaching you from behind, his fingertips coming to graze lightly against yours, sending electricity through your blood.

“I want to tell you how beautiful you are,” he flushed rose, tracing a pattern against your opened palms.

“I want to bring you flowers,” he said, swishing his hand and plucking a yellow dandelion from the air before pushing your hair softly back to tuck it snugly behind your ear.

He stepped around to stand in front of you, both of his hands cupping your cheeks as he held your face in his hold, eyes darting over your features as you breathed in a shaky breath and lost yourself in his soft aroma of pines and spice.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispered, brushing his parted lips on the tip of your nose.

“I want to do all these things with you all the time, without having to feel scared, without having to hide how much I love you,” he said. “Because I do love you, with every beat of my dead heart, I love you.”

He stared at you, gaze intense, waiting for a response, but your words seemed frozen in your throat. He dropped his hands, taking a step back with a gulp, “but if you don’t feel like that…”

“I do,” you cut him off, taking him by the wrists and bringing him back to you. “I’m not scared to be caught because I’m scared of what people will think of me, I’m scared to get caught because I’m scared of what they’ll think of you. I couldn’t care less about judgement against myself, but if they found out, do you think they would be happy for us? I’m supposed to be ‘the good one’ you know, the one who always does the right thing, and you’re-”

“The psychopath,” he finished quietly.

“No, but you’re not,” you said, tilting his face to yours when he tried to turn. “You were outcast for something you couldn’t control, so you put these walls up because nobody would let you in. But I did. I saw a boy who was abandoned and abused to the point where no one could see him for what he was; the most clever, witty, charming, and compassionate guy I’ve had the privilege of falling in love with. But they don’t see that, and I hate it. I hate it because it means they would think you were a bad influence, because they would try and take you away from me, or hurt you, and I don’t ever want to think of a life without you in it, Malachai Parker.”

His lips trembled, tears escaping from his eyes and rolling across his sculpted cheeks.

“You love me?” he murmured, almost barely audibly, as if the thought alone was unbelievable to him.

You bounced onto your tip toes, catching his tears with little kisses before planting your lips softly against his own.

“With all my heart,” you smiled softly.

Kai smiled faintly, unable to speak as he practically flew into your arms, wrapping you in his embrace, arms firm around you as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, his hands gently pulling through your locks, cool rings brushing against your flesh.

“What’s wrong?” you said into his skin, eyes closed.

“I’m happy,” he assured, “I just don’t know how to show you how thankful I am.”

“For what?” you said, brushing your lips against his jaw.

“For you,” he said.

You blushed furiously and pecked him on the lips, “you can start by being my boyfriend.”

“I like the sound of that,” he smiled against your mouth.

“You sure? I didn’t scare you off just now?” you asked.

“I’m sure,” he said, squishing his nose against yours. “I’d do it all for you.”

Into You (JDM x Reader)

Summary: You meet JDM at a convention and he takes an interest in you. Things heat up when he discovers you write dirty stories about Negan.

Requested by @prettyepiic

HUGE THANK YOU @i-am-negan-trash for being my beta reader!

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language. MAJOR SMUT. NSFW.

Your hands were shaking. You had been in the line for three hours waiting to meet the cast of The Walking Dead. There was one actor you were most excited to meet. Jeffrey Dean Morgan.  

Remain calm. Just be cool. Oh my god, please don’t embarrass yourself.

You had been a big fan of the actor for a long time. Following him throughout his career. This was your favorite role yet. You were already a huge fan of The Walking Dead, tv show and comics. You loved a good villain, which made the character Negan, your favorite. Although Negan had never been accused of being “good”, he was a damn good villain. You always imagined Jeff playing the character so when he was cast as Negan, you were beyond excited.

Damn did he play Negan better than you ever expected. It made you love him as an actor even more. Your obsession grew to a whole new level. It made you want to talk about Jeff as Negan all the time.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

89 with Taehyung please

Lessons in Love (Taehyung x Reader Fluff)

Prompt request: “Are you hitting on me?”
Summary: Taehyung flirts like a 12-year-old, but you’re able to figure everything out anyways.
Word count: 1.5k words

Originally posted by helendrv

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you frowned, looking at your friend, Yuna, who had dragged you to her mathematics study group. “You know I’m terrible at math.”

“So this is a chance to learn!” Yuna answered with a smile. “We’ll help you study, it’s not a problem.”

“You and your friends are so smart,” you whined as Yuna dragged you through the library towards the private rooms. “I’ll look so dumb in comparison.”

“Trust me, they’re not like that!” Yuna comforted, finally stopping in front of a closed door. It led to the room her study group booked every Wednesday. “Besides, you’re like the English god, so if anyone needs help with that you can pay back the favour.”

“If you’re sure,” you conceded, albeit hesitantly. Yuna nodded enthusiastically and turned the knob, swinging the door open to reveal the small room behind.

There was a single table surrounded by three other students. One girl, who you vaguely recognized, was sitting closest to the door. The head of the table was a boy named Namjoon, the certified genius on campus. Beside him was another boy, but this one you didn’t recognize.

He had messy brown hair and tanned skin. His lips were a little pouty, and his nose was strong. When your gaze traveled up, you saw that his dark, long eyes were ringed by thick eyelashes. He was also staring right back at you.

Blushing, you quickly averted your gaze and turned uncomfortably to Yuna.

“Hey guys!” she chirped. “This is my friend, Y/N. She’s in the other class, so that’s probably why you don’t recognize her.”

“Just to preface this, I’m pretty shit at math,” you said, wanting to address your discomfort immediately. “I know you guys are all really smart but I don’t want you to think I’m, like, taking advantage of you. If you need help in literally any other subject, I’m here.”

“Nah, no worries,” Namjoon responded with an easy smile. “We’re not math elitists or some shit. I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

“I’m Jisoo,” the girl added dully, briefly glancing up from her laptop in front of her. You smiled, but Jisoo turned back to her screen too quickly to catch it.

You turned to the handsome boy beside Namjoon, waiting for him to introduce himself. He blinked owlishly at you for a moment, his face expressionless. Slowly, his eyes met yours and his mouth began to open.

“Your shirt looks weird,” he said. You looked down at your t-shirt, which had a print of an old anime series you used to watch.

“I, uh–you–okay?” you spluttered, confused by the boy’s comment.

“What the hell, Tae?” Namjoon asked, bewildered. He turned to his friend, his eyes narrowed. “I thought you liked–ow!”

The boy turned to glare at his friend, and when you looked back at Yuna in confusion, she just rolled her eyes at you.

“Just ignore Taehyung,” Yuna snorted, grabbing your arm and leading you to the table. She pulled you down into the seat beside hers and turned to address the group. “So! Let’s start reviewing for the quiz next week.”

You glanced at the clock beside your computer. It read 3:04 AM. Groaning, you looked at the stacks of sheets in front of you, and then at the textbook filled with highlighted text and sticky notes. But for the hours you had spent studying, you learned next to nothing.

In a moment of desperation, you logged into Facebook and open your study group chat, which you had been added to after your first sit-in.

Y/N 3:06 AM

SOS!!! Is anyone online!!!

Tae Tae 3:10 AM

ya sup

Y/N 3:11 AM

I don’t understand anything??? Pls help

Immediately after you hit “enter,” Taehyung viewed the message. But no response came, and the typing bubble didn’t appear either. You broke out into a nervous sweat, overwhelmed by the fast approaching quiz and your lack of understanding of math in general.

Then, a message notification popped up onto your screen. Taehyung had messaged you separately from the group chat.

Taehyung 3:14 AM

lets just dm. dont wanna annoy the others

Y/N 3:14 AM


Taehyung 3:15 AM

so what don’t u understand?

Y/N 3:16 AM

Everything!!!! All the stuff we went over last meeting has completely left my brain.

Taehyung 3:17 AM

ok prepare urself this is gonna be a long lesson

So, for the next hour, Taehyung did his best to explain the different concepts and methods to you, while you scribbled notes furiously on your worn notebook. By the time he had went through all the material, your hand was throbbing and it was well past 4AM.

Y/N 4:37 AM

Thank you sooooooo much Taehyung! I owe you my life

Taehyung 4:38 AM

no thnx

Y/N 4:39 AM

Ok, rude. But seriously, thanks. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise

Taehyung 4:39 AM

no probs. but u owe me now so don’t forget

Y/N 4:40 AM

I won’t!!!!! You’re the best!

Taehyung changed your nickname to “idiot.”

The day of the quiz came quickly, but when you sat down at your desk, you felt more relaxed than in any other math class. This time, you were actually prepared and confident in your abilities. So when the quiz arrived, you whizzed through every page.

Everything Taehyung had explained to you was on the quiz. You were sure that if you found the quiz easy, Taehyung could probably do it in his sleep. Even though you thought he was a bit annoying, he still had saved your ass.

When the test period finally finished, you grabbed all your belongings and darted from the testing centre. You spotted one of your friends, Jungkook, dashing towards the exit as well.

“Hey, Jungkook!” you called. He turned around, and once he spotted you, he smiled and waited for you to catch up. “How was the quiz?”

“You know I’m the fucking worst at math,” Jungkook scowled, crossing his arms as you walked together. “Fuck, why is this a mandatory course. I’m in liberal arts for a reason.”

“Tell me about it,” you replied, laughing humourlessly. “Luckily, this time I had help. The quiz wasn’t so–”

“Y/N!” someone yelled suddenly, their deep voice booming throughout the hall. Startled, you glanced up, spotting Taehyung a few meters away from you. He hurried over, nearly tripping over himself in the process. “How’d the quiz go?”

“Really well, actually,” you replied. “Everything you explained to me was on it, so I could answer all the questions.”

“No way,” Jungkook snorted. “Y/N, good at math? That’s fucking new.”

“What the fuck?” Taehyung growled, narrowing his eyes at Jungkook. “Watch yourself, you prick. Y/N isn’t stupid.”

“Woah, chill man,” Jungkook replied, putting his hands up in surrender. “I was making a joke. Calm yourself.”

“Let’s all just relax a little bit!” you exclaimed tightly, grabbing Taehyung’s arm and pulling him away from a very volatile Jungkook. He put up little resistance, letting himself be led around the building. When you reached an emptier hallway, you stopped and look back at Taehyung. “What was that all about?”

“He was implying you were stupid,” Taehyung mumbled, his eyes downcast. “And you tried really hard to study for this quiz.”

“You probably tried harder than me, if I’m being honest,” you said. “Plus, you call me stupid all the time. Are you the only one who can say that?”

“No,” he muttered, still unable to meet your eyes. He said something, but he was speaking too quietly for you to understand.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said,” Taehyung began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “your hair looks bad.”

Reflexively, you reached for your long hair. You had slept with it in a bun last night, so your hair fell in loose waves. Objectively, you knew it looked pretty nice. You looked at Taehyung, confused, but when you saw his expression, suddenly everything clicked.

His cheeks were dusted in pink, and his eyes were darting around everywhere but your face.

“Are you–are you hitting on me?” you asked slowly. Taehyung’s cheeks darkened into a deeper red, and he bit his lip. “Oh my god, seriously? Are you twelve or something?”

“What!?” Taehyung whined. “You’re cute and it’s intimidating! What else can I do?”

“Ask me for my number or something?” you suggested, trying to hold back laughter. “Like a normal person our age?”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Taehyung said, finally lifting his gaze to your face as he scratched his nape awkwardly, “can I cash in my favour for your number?”

“I think I can do that,” you smiled, reaching for Taehyung’s phone once he fished it out of his pocket. “I might even say yes to a date, too.”


hey dumbo

- Girl in Luv

Wow I’m done and it’s 3AM. Nice. This is unedited, so I’ll go back and make corrections later. Hope you all checked out our masterlist! Happy 3k woot woot! Thanks for everyone who’s stuck with us. We’re so glad you guys are enjoying our imagines. Happy reading


these are the illustration Scarlet Beriko drew for the short story Speechless written by Kim Fielding and published in the Shoussetsu Dear + Natsu released on the 20th of June 2015.

You can buy and read Speechless by Kim Fielding in english on Amazon.


Travis Miller has a machining job, a cat named Elwood, and a pathetic love life. The one bright spot in his existence is the handsome guitar player he sometimes passes on his way home from work. But when he finally gathers the courage to speak to the man, Travis learns that former novelist Drew Clifton suffers from aphasia: Drew can understand everything Travis says, but he is unable to speak or write.

The two lonely men form a friendship that soon blossoms into romance. But communication is only one of their challenges—there’s also Travis’s inexperience with love and his precarious financial situation. If words are the bridge between two people, what will keep them together?

Bathing Suit

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Notes: Established relationship, one-shot, no smut (it’s implied), pool parties, low self-esteem, shopping, Reader hates shopping, Bucky is a supportive boyfriend, based on real events

Summary: Bucky tries inviting the you, his girlfriend, to a cookout and a pool party the Avengers are hosting at the compound, but you decline because you don’t have a bathing suit. You haven’t owned one in years, actually. Bucky takes you out shopping for one, and the whole day you come up empty-handed and upset. That is, until you find the bathing suit that changes everything.

A/N: So I bought a bathing suit for the first time in YEARS this weekend. Saturday seriously sucked for me. In the middle of my drudgery of trying to find a suit that actually looked decent, I came up with this idea for a fic. I hope you like it! Let me know if you did, and enjoy! ^_^

“Oh c’mon Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find something you like in no time.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Bucky. You were in and out of store like that!” you snapped your fingers on your last word to emphasize how quick Bucky got his new bathing suit. It was true, though. You and Bucky were literally in and out of Target in 15 minutes, and within that time he managed to find a pair of swimming trunks that of course made him look ridiculously hot, and all just for $20, too.

You on the other hand weren’t so lucky. It took you ages to find anything that you thought looked all right to you, and bathing suits were the worst offenders. Your bad luck with bathing suits had gotten to you so much, you quit trying to find one ages ago. In fact, it had been five years since you’ve owned a bathing suit. Maybe longer, you thought to yourself. It’s been so long you actually forgot exactly when you quit. But today’s shopping excursion reminded you of why you quit in the first place.

It was Bucky’s idea to take you out shopping. Last weekend, the entire Avengers team decided to have a cookout and a pool party. It was something they hardly had the time to do since they were too busy with missions, training, and other Avenger specific obligations. Each team member was allowed to invite a few friends, and of course Bucky invited you, his girlfriend. He was shocked and confused when you declined. You were always up for visiting at the compound, so why were you refusing now? When he asked, you gave him a simple reason.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Tyler's new instagram post made me think .... what if he posted that fresh after eating the reader out??? His lips look so good in it and that's what it made me think of

alright i guess here’s something fluffier than what i usually write (and substantially longer than i actually intended whoops)

You’re laying in bed, early one morning, still half asleep; as you roll over onto your stomach, attempting to drape your arm over your boyfriend, you find an empty bed, sheets still slightly warm from him having been there recently. You let out a soft, frustrated groan, hoping he’s somewhere nearby to hear your anguish. When you hear a chuckle in the room, you open your eyes slightly to try to find him.

Tyler is sitting across the room,on the sofa by the window, his laptop sitting on his thighs, while he looks at you with a smirk on his face. He’s still wearing the basketball shorts he slept in, along with a pullover hoodie over his t-shirt. You let out a sigh at the sight of him, closing your eyes once again.

“What time is it?” you grumble.

“Almost nine,” he replies, his voice still raspy. You groan once again, wishing you were still asleep; you hear Tyler chuckle again, before the sound of him padding across the room towards the bed. “How’d you sleep, baby?” he whispers, sitting on the side of the bed beside you. You feel him gently rub at your back, moving up to play with your hair.

“Okay, I guess,” you reply, opening your eyes once again to peer up at him. He smiles lazily at you, and you get a better look at the facial hair he had been growing out, already in a stubble. “Why are you up so early?” you ask.

“Got inspired to write some stuff.”

“Come back to bed and warm me up.”

“Oh, you’re cold, huh?” he asks, his hand trailing down your back again.

“Mmhm,” you hum, watching him lift the blanket up to peer underneath it.

“Maybe it’s because you’re only wearing a t-shirt and some panties,” he chuckles, caressing your backside. You hum contentedly, eyes closing once again. “You want me to warm you up?” he rasps. When you nod your head, Tyler chuckles quietly, fingers gently squeezing your backside. “Lay on your back,” he instructs.

You do as you’re told, rolling over onto your back, but keeping your eyes closed. Tyler slips his hand beneath the blanket, pushing your shirt up your stomach and pressing his fingers past the waistband of your panties. You instinctively spread your thighs to give him more access as you feel his fingers delve into your wetness.

He gently strokes your clit, making your body hum at the contact; your eyes flutter open, meeting his gaze. He’s watching you intently, his eyes clouded over already but no emotion on his face; it’s as though he’s so focused on your pleasure he has no time for emotions.

When you let out a soft whine, the corner of his mouth twitches up into a small smirk before he slips his fingers towards your entrance. His fingers tease your hole for a moment, before he carefully dips them into you; it almost catches you off guard, so you shove your hand under the blankets to grasp his wrist.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he whispers. “Do you want me to eat your pussy, really soft and slow?”

“Yes,” you breathe, biting your lip as you keep eye contact with him.

Tyler smirks at you, acting quickly; he ducks under the blanket, pulling it over his head as he kneels between your thighs. He helps you work your panties off of your legs, pulling them back around him as he gets more comfortable. You feel his hands press at your inner thighs, pushing them further apart before he dips his head towards you, licking up from your entrance to your clit.

He begins to work, teasing your entrance with his tongue for a few moments, before pressing it into you, tonguing you slowly. You gasp softly, slipping your hand beneath the blanket to thread your fingers through his hair; when you head him moan against you from the way you tug his hair, his tongue begins to work faster before he slows down again, pulling his head back.

“You know how I get when you pull my hair, baby,” he mutters from beneath the blanket.

“And now that it’s growing back, I get to do it again.”

He laughs softly, almost a giggle as he presses his mouth to your clit; he begins to suck on it, very gently as his fingers find their way towards your entrance. He uses the juices that have seeped from you to coat his fingers, pushing them into you slowly. You groan out and push your head harder against the pillow, grip tightening on his hair.

He continues his slow, sloppy motions of his mouth, letting go of your clit so he can tease it with his tongue from his wide open mouth. You can hear him panting, his fingers maintaining their slow pace to match the movements of his tongue.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” you breathe out.

You feel his stubble rubbing against you harshly, a vast difference between the friction it causes and the actions of his mouth. Sucking on your clit again, Tyler lets out a moan, trying to maintain his own composure from what he’s doing to you, in an effort to keep his pace. Finally, you feel your orgasm very slowly building in your stomach, walls clenching around his fingers.

“C’mon, baby,” he mutters against you.

The mix of his slow movements, his stubble on your skin, and the soft whimpers he’s letting out push you over the edge, very slowly; your body quakes beneath him, thighs trembling and breathy moans falling from your mouth. You pull on his hair much harder than you intended, but when you head Tyler groaning, you know how he loves it.

You continue to shake from the waves of your climax, eyes closed tightly until you feel him pull back from you. You open your eyes, looking down to watch him pull the blanket off of his head to look up at you with a wide grin.

“You liked that?” he asks, licking his lips. You nod your head unable to speak, earning another soft chuckle from him. He crawls back up your body, pressing a gentle, passionate kiss to your lips. “You gonna go back to sleep?” he asks, softly, brushing your hair from your forehead.

“Maybe,” you reply, lazily.

“I’ll leave you alone, then,” he whispers, stroking your cheek. “I’ve got more writing to do.” He kisses you once more, before climbing from the bed; he makes sure you’re tucked back into the covers, then crosses back to the sofa. You watch him for a moment, unbeknownst to him, seeing him lifting his phone up to take a selfie; after a few minutes, you hear the notification on your phone, signifying that someone you follow posted on Instagram.

“Are you serious, Tyler?” you mutter, knowing exactly what he did. He giggles once more, tossing his phone onto the sofa and pulling his laptop back into his lap.

“Go to sleep, baby. You’re worn out.”

anonymous asked:

#4 featuring jimin!

Genre : Drabble, #4 “I can’t see anything” punk!Jimin SMUT & SIN

Characters : Park Jimin x Reader

Word Count : 2717 (idk what the fuck happened here)

A/N: There’s somethin about pink haired jimin that makes me want to sin ok idk if u wanted smut but u got it


Keep reading

Suga Scenario

Originally posted by leojuseyo

Anon: “Could I request a Yoongi scenario Where he has a crush on a Solo Idol and the other boys find out about it and at First tease him but agree that she would Be Perfect for him and help him to getting close to her? 😍 PLEAse ❤️”

“A/N: I shall grant your wish, my sweet anon. I hope everyone likes this. I think these one shots are so fun but time consuming so I’ll close requests for now. But I can still do BTS reactions and ships if anyone wants them so hit me up. Please enjoy, share and give me feedback on this. It’s a lovely idea!”

Pairing: Yoongi X Reader, Yoongi X Idol

Deep breathing, you psyched yourself up, ready to go on stage. You could hear cheering already as they announced a next star guest. Your name was called out and that was your queue. You’d been doing this for two years now and you still got jittery before a stage performances. Heading onto the platform, your eyes scanned the crowd. Your eyes landed on your parents and you beamed them a big smile. They didn’t always come to see you perform but when they did, it was always a better experience. Your eyes continued to wonder and you spotted some famous idol groups who were there for the rest of the awards ceremony but it made your heart race to think they’d hear you perform.

Being a solo artist, you never got the group vibes and family feel that the other idol groups got. It saved you having to live with strangers but you could tell some groups had really become families of their own. You registered a couple of the main groups in the crowd. Exo and Got7 caught your eye and you felt a tad light headed at the sight of JB. He honestly had the most satisfying face. When you saw Bangtan, your interest perked. They were an interesting bunch, not many female idols mixed with them and they were such a tight nit group. They were all looking at you, including Suga, their rapper who you’d noticed always seemed quite dismissive in these things. 

All of this registered in your head in the space of about 30 seconds and the music began to play. Forgetting all the people watching, you sunk into the song and let your soul flow through the lyrics and spread across the arena. Your songs were soulful, unlike most idol songs that got you dancing, your music induced a silence that spread across the arena. On your final note, you opened your eyes again and the silence cut with a round of applause. You smiled and thanked everyone and headed to your seat. 

You were seated between Got7 and Bangtan, it seemed they had practically meshed into one group. You saw them when you went to events like this and you mingled sometimes. You hadn’t interacted much with Bangtan, they were very invested in themselves but it was fun to watch. They had gotten up to perform a short while later and you really felt their stage. Eyes following each member, you ended up following Suga. His eyes met yours multiple times through their performance and he looked dashing. 

By the end of the event, most managers forced their idols to head to the after party to at least make an appearance. You actually enjoyed after parties because it was the only time you could really mingle with other idols, having all of your rehearsals alone and performing alone. 

“Y/N, I can’t come to the after party but I’m good friends with Bangtan’s manager and he has a space in one of the cars to take you. He’ll take good care of you, don’t worry. Go quick, before they leave you.” Your manager whirled you around and shoved you into one of the members as they started filing out. 

“I’m so sorry, my manager-” a sweet smile silenced you as you tried to apologise.

“I-it, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Suga nodded and turned back around and clutched onto one of the members for support, everyone was trying to leave and it was packed.

“I heard you’re going to the after party with us, we’re split into two cars so you should go with my hyungs.” Jimin, the heart throb gave you an eye smile and pointed to the rapper line. “Our car is always really noisy and,” he paused to look at Suga before continuing with a smirk, “they are pretty calm anyway. I’m sure they’ll enjoy your company.” Feeling uncomfortable, you thanked him and followed the three getting into the big black car. They let you in first and then someone crashed into you as you sat down. 

“I’m so sorry!” Suga turned around to the boys getting in behind him, giving them an icy look before looking back at you, “I tripped.” He sat next to you, clearly looking awkward. He put his head back and closed his eyes and he was gone. The other members introduced themselves and you all had conversations, with Suga between you all, in another universe, unaware and not part of this world. 

Yoongi’s POV:

The show was a mess. The first time he shows any interest in a singer, they think it means something. You sounded like an angel and you moved him with your voice. He couldn’t deny, he had a little bit of a crush but he tried all the same. He tried to look calm and collected for the duration of the show but that’s rarely possible when you have the maknae line poking and whispering in your ear for the whole show. By the end of it, even Namjoon had started. 

“I heard she’s riding with us to the after party,” he looked at you, eyebrows dancing with a smirk slapped across his face, “manager hyung said she’ll have to come in our car so Taehyung and Jungkook don’t scare her.” Yoongi rolled his eyes in response.

“The hell if I care.” As soon as he opened his mouth, he felt someone crash into him. He turned around to face you. Normally people could sense the annoyance he would radiate when things like this happened but there was no annoyance to be sensed. He felt himself falter and smile uncontrollably as he told you it was okay. His legs felt like jelly so he quickly turned around and latched onto Hobi before he fell flat on his face. 

Once they shoved him in the car, he had no will to live anymore. He had reached the pinnacle of embarrassment and it left him drained. Your thigh was wedged next to his because the other members had purposely spread out so that the two of you were close. He closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep through the journey but he still listened to all of the conversations going on. 

His eyes snapped open as you shook his shoulder lightly to wake him. You smiled at him and he gulped, unable to speak. You were honestly stunning, in your silky dress, with subtle makeup done, his eyes were glued to you. When he finally peeled them away, he realised you’d arrived at the party. He thanked you for waking him and he emerged from the car, waiting for everyone to get out so that they could leave. Everyone got inside, the whole band regrouped and decided to reside in a booth. 

“How could you sleep through the whole journey? We tried so hard to get the two of you together and you wasted it!” Jin sighed and looked his roommate in the eye, the look of a war hero on his face as he continued, “I had to sit between Jk and Tae, I took one for the team! Then I find out it was for nothing?” His hyung was having none of it, then again, neither was Yoongi, he had a bit of willpower left to keep on the denial act. 

“I slept through the journey because I was tired, and why did you try so hard to get us to sit together, I don’t care. I don’t get what everyone is reading into.” He sighed and sipped his drink, he knew they saw through it but he was stubborn. 

“Ah don’t lie, I caught you listening to her album when you were trying to sleep the other day” Jin would not let anything go. He knew more than the rest of the members, being his roommate. If he continued to expose him, it’d get ugly, he had to fess up.

“Caught in lie~” the maknae sung, as they all looked at him, waiting for him to crack.

“Yeah yeah fine. So what, she isn’t interested and it’s just a crush, it’ll pass.” Everyone smiled at the development. They had noticed from the very beginning. Back to not long after your debut, at your first awards show when they heard you sing. When he bought your album and smiled when he listened to it. When his attention would perk up if it was ever your turn to go on stage. 

“Okay guys, tonight is the night! She’s a solo artist, she’s always on her own, go to the bar, maybe she’ll come up to you.” The boys had already started scheming and he knew he was done for. He went with it because he knew they’d continue annoying him otherwise. 

Namjoon put his arm around the older man and pointed to the bar. “You’re gonna go up there and we’re gonna get her to come to you. All you have to do is talk to Taehyung and we’ll do the rest.” He didn’t understand but he was beyond caring. Tae grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bar.

Reader’s POV:

 Your drink was running out and you were getting bored. The struggle with being a solo artist. Small interactions with people that congratulated you on your work and asked how you were, were always so brief. The most interesting time you had was in the car with Bangtan. They were genuinely nice guys. 

Speaking of the devil, you saw Namjoon and Jimin approached you. You were glad to see some friendly faces. You hoped it wasn’t going to be as fleeting as every other conversation you’d had. You were considering going home already. 

“Y/N, how are you finding the party?” They plopped themselves next to you. Jhope greeted you and joined in too, bringing drinks for his friends. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you a drink, shall I get you one?” You smiled and declined and told him you’d go to the bar yourself soon.

“The party is fun!” You exclaimed unconvincingly. The men weren’t stupid either. They all looked at you with deadpanned looks that read, you’ve been sitting alone with an empty glass so where’s the fun? You sighed. “Okay I’m bored. No one talks to me for very long and I don’t have any band mates like you guys. I’m really lacking any kind of conversation with substance.” You complained to them and they all nodded sympathetically. 

“We have to admit, we do well at these parties, with each other for company. The only one who isn’t feeling it is Yoongi hung.” Namjoon explained, pausing to look over at the bar, where he sat with his head on his hands as V spoke to him. As soon as he said this, the boy left Yoongi on his own and went to join Jin and Jungkook at their seats with drinks. “We have to go greet people but why don’t you go talk to him. He’s an interesting guy and he’s as bored as you.” They all smiled at you mischievously as if you couldn’t see their elaborate plan to get you to talk to him. They may be the kings on stage but they definitely aren’t the kings of subtlety. 

You said goodbye to them and picked up your empty glass and headed for the bar, pretending you couldn’t hear them high fiving each other because of their victory. You were grateful that someone would be interested enough to talk to you during the party. Maybe you could strike a friend so you’d no longer be alone at these events. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N, need some company?”

We'll Be Okay (Barry Allen X Reader) (Smut)

Fandom: The Flash
Pairing: Barry Allen X Reader
Word Count: 5,736
Prompt: “Today was the first family gathering I’ve been to since we broke up and my little cousin (niece, in my fic) that absolutely adored you asked where you were and I had to lock myself in the bathroom and sit in the tub for a half an hour and look through a folder on my phone of pictures I took of you to feel okay again¨
For: myself lmaooo
Author’s Note: this is EXPLICIT!! contains (pretty poorly written) smut!! don’t read if you’re uncomfortable with that!!

You fidgeted anxiously with the sleeves of your sweater, mentally begging your family to understand that Barry wasn’t coming.

Luckily for you, they seemed to get the message when after ten minutes had passed, you remained alone (Barry was never more than ten minutes late, and since he hadn’t shown up yet…well, they knew what that meant).

Unluckily for you, one member of your family didn’t seem to get the memo.

“__y/n__! __y/n__!” Your youngest niece, Maddie, tugged at the hem of your shirt until you picked her up, settling her on your hip.

“What’s up, munchkin?” You asked, trying to press a kiss to her nose and frowning when she pulled away from you. She wrinkled her eyebrows at you and peered over your shoulder.

“Where’s Bawwy?”

Your mind went blank. What were you supposed to tell her? “He broke up with me, you’re probably never gonna see him again” would break her little heart.

“He, uh, couldn’t make it today.” You offered up reluctantly.

Her lower lip quivered as she pouted. “But Bawwy never misses my birthday!”

“I know, honeybun, I’m sorry. He had work stuff to deal with today.” A total lie.

She looked like she was about to cry for a moment, and you panicked internally. If she started crying, there was not a doubt in your mind that you would cry too. And you really didn’t feel like breaking down in front of your family members, not today, of all days.

You hadn’t wanted to come today, it would’ve been your five year anniversary with Barry, but your sister had begged you to come, for Maddie’s sake.

“Can I spend the night with you and Bawwy this weekend?” She asked hopefully, and you didn’t know what to say.

Barry had moved out of your apartment two months ago, after he told you that he had to “get away from you”. He didn’t even give you a reason aside from that, and instead gave you one last, lingering kiss before gathering up his stuff and leaving the apartment.

You didn’t go to work for the next week, unable to do anything but wallow in your misery. Barry, the love of your life, the man you were so sure you were going to marry, had broken up with you without a second thought.

“Of course you can, sweetie!” Fuckfuckfuck, that was not what you meant to say.

“Yay! Thank you, auntie!” She squealed excitedly and scrambled out of your arms, running over to her mom and telling her the good news.

Keep reading

Scars that he leaves

Summary : Logan is constantly abusing you verbally, you’re way past your breaking point and he sees what he’s done and tries to fix it
*Logan x reader*

Warnings : fluff, angst i guess? Swearing

A / N : Hey readers! This is my first Logan fic and I’m actually kind of proud of it so if any of you have more requests for this I’d be happy to do them so send em in! Thank you all 💕


You closed your eyes and felt tears of frustration  spill, you poured yourself another glass of wine and turned to Jean. She had a sad look painted on her face and she sighed, “y/n, he isn’t going to stop you know. That’s just his personality, you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it”. You took a fairly large gulp of the wine. You already felt drowsy and you could feel the 4th glass of wine pulsate through your blood stream. It helped, numbed the pain. The pain of rejection and the pain of the harsh words lashing at your weakest points. Hitting you harder everything. Making you bleed out. Sucking you dry of any hope of finding someone who’d love the broken sad mutant that you where.

 You flexed your hands and made a flame appear between your palms. It danced and caused you too giggle. “Jean, I honestly don’t give a shit about him, it’s the words damnit. How can one person bring me down so low” you whisper in fear. Heavy tears start flowing again. “God am I that ugly? That fat? That unappealing? That no body will ever love me… I’ve been alone for my whole life. Is there really no hope for me..” you ramble on, spilling every unspoken word. Stripping your soul bare, not being able to take the knawing pain that was stretching you,

Farther and farther. A knife coming down deeper.


That one man that had that power over you. That moment when he saw you. The distaste in his face was so strong. You felt yourself recoil away from him and you were met with harsh words. “Dumb bitch” “Fat Whore” “Dead weight” . With that, you chugged another glass of wine, only 20 years old and falling apart. You’ve never had this issue before but it was him. The man you’ve heard stories about. The man who was your inspiration to train harder, faster, to make yourself strong and cold. It hurt the most, that someone you looked up hated you. The nights when it became to much you’d always end the same : in tears with empty bottles of wine. Only to find him repeating the same things the next day. Of course he would never know, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing what he’s doing this to you. Jean suddenly nudged you, bringing you out of your thoughts.

You looked up to her and saw the sadness and pain in her face as she read your mind. The pain you felt became hers and a single tear went down her face. “ Y/n, I hate seeing you this way, you’re going to kill yourself at this rate”. You turn away and lean your head back on the couch in Jean’s dorms. You stared at the popcorn ceiling. It was colored a faded grey. Suddenly you get up. You needed a breather. The room felt as if it was suffocating you. “I don’t know why you put up wih my bullshit Jean,” you begin to walk out the room, until a wave of nausea washes over you and you find yourself vomiting up the content of your stomach which mostly consisted of a granola bar and a shit ton of wine.

 "It’s because I care for you, you deserve better than this and it scares me how bad this has gotten" she whispers in a motherly tone. “Let’s get you to bed,” she pull you up by the shoulders and guides you to the door. Your vision is blurred and you close your eyes in fear that you’ll get dizzy and vomit again.

 "What the hell?“ You hear a voice that makes your blood freeze. You wanted to drop to the floor because you knew that voice. It was the same voice of the man that caused you to be in his state. “Logan not now, just leave”, says Jean sternly. You hear a scoff, and some incoherent whispers, you’re afraid of opening your eyes and seeing that scowl on his face. The scowl that makes you want to crawl into the darkest part of your brain and never leave. That look that undoes you. You flinch when you hear the door slam shut as you exit the room. Everything blurs together and suddenly your in your bed, fast asleep before your head hits the pillow.


*jeans pov*

You winced as Y/N vomited, she was so young and pure. Always over working herself to seem stronger. So nobody could kick her around, the minute Logan came and I saw her image in his brain, I had known it wouldn’t end well. He had a knack for pushing people away that he liked. Only to support himself by saying it was for their benefit, but this was too much. He barged into the room and I knew he had heard the crying.

Y/n eyes where closed and she mumbled some words I couldn’t catch. All she was thinking about was his scowl. So deeply burned into her brain, the pain was so strong I nearly dropped her. “What happened?” He mumbled, fresh worry painted his face and you rolled your eyes. “This is your doing, leave.” He scoffed at your words but you had to get Y/N out of here. You dragged her across the room and put her in bed. She fell asleep fast and you went back to your dorm. Logan sat on the couch inspecting the empty wine bottles. He looked up from the bottles and you glared at him. “Do you really need to be so damn harsh. She’s young and is a mess because of you.”

You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow, waiting for his explanation. “  I didn’t know she was taking it so horribly…” you scoff in annoyance, “Really Logan? That’s your excuse, damnit, you damn well know you shouldn’t mess around with the new students. There fresh out of labs or broken families, rejected by society and this kind of stuff sets them off. I’ve never seen anyone worse than what you’ve done to y/n. You crossed a line this time..”. He hangs his head and growls. “Well fuck Jean, she.. I don’t… nevermind…” He got up and stormed past you. “She won’t always be here for you to say sorry, you better fix this mess you’ve made” you call out after him. You see his head snap to the side but he doesn’t slow down. With that, you begin to clean the forgotten bottles and discarded tissues.



*back to reader pov*

You woke up with a jolt. Your skin was covered with a sickly sheen of sweat and your eyes where glued together from tears and runny mascara. You rubbed them to get a clearer view of your surroundings. The alarm clock showed the time as 5 : 21 am. And you sighed as you shoved your head back into the pillow. Your head was pounding and you groaned as you remembered the last night’s occurrences. You tossed around your bed for 15 minutes, trying to will yourself to fall asleep.

It was no use so you decided to go on a walk around the school. You stepped out of your warm bed and shivered as you walked to the closet to put on some comfy sweats and a tank top. You could feel the humidity in the air so you decided to slick your hair in a ponytail to avoid any frizz. You threw on your shoes and walked out the door. The suns buttery morning light filtered through the trees and warmed your skin. You hummed in happiness. You had finally gotten some peace.

After a couple of rounds around the school you could feel your stomach rumbling. You ran inside and to the kitchen, you grabbed a piece of toast and walked back to you room. After finishing your walk you hopped in the shower. The water beads sliding down your skin relaxed every muscle in your body until you heard a loud thump and growl. You quickly grabbed your towel and ran into the room.

You gasped when you saw Logan seething with rage, “ Where the HELL WHERE YOU?” He yelled. You where frozen in your spot, unable to speak. He thundered towards you. Your arms clutching the towel tightly. You could feel his breath coming out in irregular and frantic beats. “I…Uh. wha?….” you squeak, not being able to form words. “LEAVE LIKE THAT AGAIN I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, WITHOUT TELLING ME OR JEAN OR ANYONE… YOU CAN’T JUST…” He continued yelling at me but I was too dazed to hear anything. Fear filled you and you didn’t know what he’d to. You backed away a step as he yelled at you. His eyes where wild and you where panicking. “I’m sorry?…” you whimper underneath his looming shadow. He gave a exasperated sigh and shook his head. “Why do you care so much anyway? You tell me how useless I am everyday, you would be happy if i dropped dead right now…"You blurted without thinking and his head snapped up.

  You swallow heavily but stand your ground. He looked as if he was going to rip you in half as he pushed you against the wall. You winced at his grip against your hands and let our a yelp. His eyes remained merciless and feral. The towel around you began slipping and you yanked one arm away to hold it up. He only then realized your state and raked his eyes down your body. You shuddered against his stare. His grip suddenly became gentle and he dropped in front of you. On his knees he looked up ” Y/n, I’m sorry. For everthing. Christ, I didn’t know what I was saying was doing to you… I just… no excuse will cover the shit I made you go through”.

You remained motionless. His eyes pleading and warm. Instinctively you reach to run your hands through his dark hair and he closes his eyes and sighs. “Don’t hurt me again…please” you whisper. He leans against your stomach, “I won’t”. Then faster than you could realize his lips are on yours. His beard scratching your neck and cheeks as you sigh into the kiss. Emotions and lust coursing through your veins makes you arch your back as he deepens the kiss. Your intoxicated with him.

His hands roaming your waist, bringing you closer to him. His kiss trails along your neckline to your neck which causes you too moan softly. You gasp and cover your mouth in surprise at your bodies betrayal to pleasure. You can feel him smirk and laugh against your skin. The vibrations from his chest, make your bones rumble. You balance yourself by holding onto his biceps, which where bursting through the t-shirt he was wearing. You where left gasping for air when he was done kissing you.

“Logan..please slow down a bi..ah…t” you mewl as he nips the soft skin of your neck. He suddenly stops “Alright, you should put some clothes on,”. Your eyes widen as you realize your current state and he gives you a smirk. You rush into the bathroom and quickly dress into a oversized hoodie and sweats. Logans laying on your bed with his feet practically dangling off the edges.

You sit on the bed cross-legged until he wordlessly brings you down into his arms and holds you. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this. I was so dumb to do this to you…” He whispers. “I’m just happy that it’s over”. He rubs your back softly and grips you hip with the other. You’re nuzzling your head in his neck, giving him kitten kisses. He grows impatiently and you laugh. He pushes you against him but suddenly you smile and get up. “Didn’t think I’d let you off the hook that easy?” You laugh, he groans in annoyance and you begin to giggle. It was a better start than you’ve hoped for….


Tags : KUMI ARE YOU PROUD I FINALLY DID IT ! @mellifluous-melodramas

Originally posted by extraordinaryxmen

@roadswewalk I wish I had any photoshop skills whatsoever! This is a lovely idea…I hope you won’t mind that I ran with it:

Home again. Sherlock is alone, or he’s supposed to be. John has placed him on twenty-four hour watch, and taken the first shift himself. He’s sat Sherlock down in his chair, and placed a mug of tea at his left elbow, but he won’t sit, won’t talk. He shuffles around in the kitchen, fussing about with a bag he picked up at Boots. 

Sherlock’s whole body is a mass of aching withdrawal and bruises. He is a walking, breathing pang. He doesn’t want to take paracetamol, or whatever else John has arranged for him to have. He wants to crawl every inch of his recovery on his own. He can’t allow whatever help John is preparing to offer.  

John clears his throat. He hovers in the kitchen doorway, his left hand clenching and releasing. 

His right hand is coiled into a fist. No: his fingers are curled around something. A small bottle, a vial. Sherlock’s stomach flips, as his mind whispers sweet possibilities. What will he say, if John offers him a top-up, a little something to ease the pain?

No. The answer has to be no. Besides, John would never. John is here to watch him, to make sure he doesn’t use. What, then? 

Sherlock shifts in his chair. The small movement sets his nerves to screaming, but he won’t complain. For John, he’ll breathe through each moment. 

For John, he will speak, will try to break whatever stalemate this is. “Won’t you sit down?”

“Mm.” A non-answer. 

Sherlock wills himself to continue through this moment, and the next. He picks up the mug, deliberately, lifts it to his mouth, and sips tea. He waits. He has no choice.

“I wonder–” John starts. He stares at the empty air behind Sherlock. Shakes his head. Rubs his eyes. 


Sherlock wonders, not for the first time, how things became so strained between them. He knows. Of course he does: too much damage, too much heartache, too many words unspoken. 

John shakes his head, walks stiffly to the desk, and pulls out the hardbacked chair. He places it inches away from Sherlock’s chair, and sits. So close, so quickly. Sherlock blinks at his tea, risks a glance at John’s face. John is looking down at his right hand. His fingers uncoil. Sherlock frowns at what he sees there. 

Nail polish. Sea Blue. 

When John speaks, his voice is gruff. “Hold out your hand.”

“John, I assure you, I am in need of many things, but a manicure is not one of them.”

John shakes his head. “No. We’re doing this.” He shakes the bottle, much more vigorously than necessary. He unscrews the cap, rests the bottle on the arm of the chair, and removes the brush, careful not to let it drip. He holds out his hand for Sherlock’s. 

Sherlock places the mug carefully on the side table. His hands are inclined to shake. He tries to keep still as he offers his left hand, his palm resting on John’s. John paints a swath of nail polish over Sherlock’s thumbnail. Sherlock sighs. The sensation is pleasant. Cool, in contrast to the heat of John’s hand. 

“Not that I mind, John, but are you going to tell me why?” He can’t help asking. The silence is too intense, too monumental. He shudders as John works on his index finger. 

“Withdrawal. You’re going to start to itch soon,” John says. His voice is whisper soft. He follows the ritual he’s established for himself: dipping the brush, shifting his hand under Sherlock’s to hold him still, running the brush over the nail of Sherlock’s middle finger, then his ring finger. 


“The nail polish is bright, and your nails will feel a bit different to you. I’m hoping it will serve as a reminder not to scratch. No good going through withdrawal if you come out on the other end with all your skin hanging off.”

Sherlock chuckles, his voice low. His skin already feels like it’s hanging off. It would make no difference to him, if he stripped it all raw, but he will try not to, for John.

John finishes with Sherlock’s left hand. He leans over it, his thumb running over Sherlock’s skin, and blows a light stream of air over the nails. 

Sherlock closes his eyes, feeling John’s breath on him, and the warmth that builds in his belly, and the relief from the pain he holds inside him. 

It’s temporary, but so very welcome. 

“The other hand, then,” John says.

Sherlock shifts in the chair, his whole body turning toward John, so he can offer his right hand. John leans over this hand as well, and he is so close, inches away from Sherlock. Sherlock breathes John in: the scent of the pomade he’s taken to wearing, ever since he allowed his hair to grow longer. The faint scent of toothpaste. It’s all bathed in the much stronger scent of the nail polish: butyl acetate; ethyl acetate. Overripe banana and pear, mixing with the stench of toluene. Not nearly enough to get high on. 

“Do you really think this will work?” Sherlock asks. He casts his eyes down to watch John work. John is hardly himself, hasn’t been himself for years, Sherlock knows, but at least he still has good, steady hands. It’s something. It’s a lot. Maybe, even, enough to start something new. 

John finishes painting the nails of Sherlock’s right hand. He purses his lips and blows air across them as well. Sherlock shivers. 

John frowns as he screws the lid back on the bottle. He puts it on the desk behind him. Sherlock holds up his hands to admire them. 

“I hope you like the colour,” John says. “Matches your dressing gown.” Not answering Sherlock’s question. Evasive. John is still sitting in the chair, inches away. To Sherlock’s surprise, he shifts forward, and his knee presses into Sherlock’s thigh. 

Sherlock sighs. “It’s…nice. It looks nice.” He wiggles his fingers. It does. 

John sighs raggedly. He takes Sherlock’s hand in his again. This time, he turns it over. He leans in. He presses his cheek to Sherlock’s palm. 

Sherlock is unable to move, unable to speak. John’s eyes are screwed shut. He rubs his cheek against Sherlock’s hand, the first hint of afternoon stubble scratching Sherlock’s skin, his fingertips. John presses his lips to Sherlock’s wrist, kisses his pulse point. 

“Please remember,” John says. “Don’t hurt yourself. Please don’t hurt yourself any more.” 

They hold there for a long moment. A tear escapes from the inside corner of John’s left eye, makes a track down his face. Sherlock is turning inside out, his whole world coalescing down into his hand, into John, into the shade of blue that adorns his nails. 

“I won’t, John. I won’t.”