heart-bead

The White Dress.

This story is about my friends MIL, and her wedding. Strap in guys, this is a wild ride in which I did THE THING that got me banned from any of her family functions. (Plus a few threats of dismemberment and bodily harm)

A good friend of mine from university was getting married! They had been a couple since Junior year of college, through her 2 years in the peace corps and currently her return to this continent. 6 years in total. She had been to all manner of family functions and always came back with a strange story about how she thinks her MIL secretly hates her. But she being a very quiet and sweet person pushed those thoughts aside.

Point 1: She is vegetarian and jewish, husband is not. She was invited and went to Christmas dinner and figured she would just eat sides, as well she brought a vegetarian casserole. MIL, after knowing her for THREE years, and being told by husband a few weeks before about not to forget friend doesn’t eat meat…proceeded to put meat in every dish. Friend drank water and ate her casserole the whole night while MIL cried to everyone that friend was so rude for not eating her cooking.

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The Only Exception

MASTERLIST

Requested: no but a little angst never hurt anyone. also shoutout to Emily for being awesome. 

Word count: 3,001

Shawn was the kind of guy that on the outside seemed like such an innocent boy, but those who actually knew him, knew that was the biggest fake facade you could ever come across. 

I couldn’t count how many girls he had slept with only using my ten fingers. I couldn’t keep up on the names of the girls that had walked out of our front door after a night out and I surely couldn’t keep track on how many girls, he snuck in late at night when he thought I was sleeping. 

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Paths


I just finished one test. So I’m rewarding myself with something short and sweet. Another Hanzo thingy.

The first one is here. (My first interpretation of this interaction)

Something that’s been jiggling around in my brain for about a week or two.

This is Doomzo and Mchanzo. So fair warning. 

{Warnings: Sexual content mentioned(Nothing explicit), voyeurism(Mentioned)}


Hanzo has always been attracted to powerful men. Not a shock, considering he’s spent his entire life under the control of powerful men.

So when Akande Ogundimu stepped through into his family’s compound, a low bow at his father’s side, Hanzo knew. He knew in the way Akande watched him as they toured the main grounds, those strong arms tucked at his lower back, hands clasped. Hanzo could hear their fathers speaking quietly and he knew that an alliance would be struck between their families.

He was not aware that a marriage would be required.

He was also not adverse to it.

Akande was a generous lover, a strong presence at Hanzo’s side. He had an analytical mind that could rival Hanzo’s own. His tactical genius assisted Hanzo when his father deemed them worthy of assigning raids.

Akande visited frequently. Hanzo never visited him. Sojiro would never allow his only competent heir to leave the fortress of their home.

Hanzo was bitter, angry. He watched Genji flit around Hanamura with clouded eyes.

“Jealously is a double edged sword, Hanzo.” Akande’s fingers tip his chin up from where they lay in Hanzo’s room. The tatami doors are open and the cool wind strays across sweating flesh. Hanzo’s hair spills out across Akande’s chest, his hair tie was long gone and ripped away.

“I am not jealous.” He mutters.

Akande regards him quietly, hand sliding along Hanzo’s jawline and into his hair, “It burns within. Do not let that anger consume you.”

The kiss is soft, much softer than the sex has ever been.

His loyalty to Akande and his father shifts just slightly on his twenty second birthday. Genji drags him out of the compound, despite his protests. Akande waves him away and returns to whatever it is he was reading.

He meets the mysterious man in black at the bar. He’s young, perhaps as young as Hanzo himself. His hair is unruly and his clothing speaks of duty. There is a patch hidden in the confines of his pocket and Hanzo is part of an underground operation.They are no strangers to Overwatch’s matryoshka doll of an organization.

Blackwatch was in Hanamura.

Something thrilling erupts in the pit of Hanzo’s stomach. Rebellion at its core. Something he has longed for his entire life. That tingly sense of freedom and he wonders if this is the high that Genji’s lives on.

He takes the cowboy (‘Call me Jesse, darlin’) home with him. The man’s hands are rough and his voice rougher as he slips them up Hanzo’s clothes. His skin is alight, mouth hungry as he tastes cigars and whiskey hot like embers on his tongue.

“Are you going to share?”

Akande’s voice is a thunder of curiosity behind them. Hanzo startles, realizes where he is and who was in his room waiting for him.

Shame is the first thing to rush through him.

Arousal is the second.

He looks up at the blackwatch agent, thumbs  the beard at his jawline, “You will watch.” He speaks to Akande.

Akande’s laugh is dark, promising, “Only if I get you after, my dragon.”

He takes the agent named Jesse in his bed. Hands curled in the man’s unruly hair and insides burning from the frenzy of emotion Jesse releases. His words are frantic, rushed and bleeding with promises Hanzo knows he can’t keep.

Akande watches from the sidelines, waiting.

Jesse steals a rough kiss and his eyes are almost gold in the moonlight cast through Hanzo’s bedroom. He leaves in silence, one last look at Hanzo as Akande slips into the bed with him.

Akande is a brand, an overwhelming overstimulation.

Hanzo loves it.

But he dreams of Jesse.

Years pass. Akande comes to him with news. He has been taken under by a mentor. The second line of Doomfist. It is an honor, despite the atrocious the second Doomfist has committed. He asks Hanzo opinion and they discuss it over tea.

Akande is passionate, brilliant.

Hanzo’s smile is tight. His brother’s figure passes the doorway.

“We will be unstoppable together.” Akande declares.

Hanzo returns to his betrothed, can see the ambition and promise in Akande’s gaze.

He forgets about Jesse.

He murders his brother.

Blood drips down his hands, sword at his feet. His chest is tight, too tight and there seems to be no breath in his lungs. The dragon’s howl under his skin, distraught and screaming at the death of their own brother.

Hanzo flees.

He runs and runs, changing his name, his identity. He hides.

Akande’s capture spreads across the world. Contaminated by Talon. Taken down by a small team from Overwatch.

Hanzo hovers above his prison twice. He so desperately wants to see him.

Why did they stray so far from their paths?

They were supposed to rule together. They were going to be unstoppable.

But Hanzo is done with this criminal life. He roams the world, seeking redemption for the atrocity that he has committed. He mourns for his brother every day. Returns to the castle in his honor every year.

That is where he is reunited his brother once again.

His dragon is a beacon of green, a reminder of what Hanzo has done.  

Genji offers forgiveness.

Hanzo can not accept that.

He cannot.

Hanzo keeps tabs on Overwatch for a month before he drops onto its doorstep. The recall brings more than he thought it would.

Including:

Jesse McCree.

Who greets Hanzo with a tip of his hat and a smile that speaks volumes of their past.

“Never thought I’d see you again, darlin’.” His voice has aged, so has the rest of him. So has Hanzo.

“Nor did I.” Hanzo mutters.

Jesse swallows, pats his legs, “How about a drink?”

Hanzo lifts an eyebrow, nods, “I would….enjoy that.”

He is with Jesse for nearly a year when the Reaper assists Akande in his prison breakout. The doomfist gauntlet has been taken. Numbani is in tatters, a frenzy of political and civilian meltdowns.

Hanzo is alone on the battlefield when Akande lands before him.

He is just as imposing as he was in his youth, more so now with the golden gauntlet covering half his chest. The white markings are new. His footsteps are silent, despite his hulking size.

Hanzo is not afraid.

“Hanzo, you should consider joining us, I think we would see eye to eye.” It is not the first thing he expected Akande to say to him after so long apart.

Hanzo wrinkles his nose, nocks an arrow, “I would have little to gain from such an arrangement. No, I will find my own path.”

Akande stops before him. He is the enemy now. Hanzo should be afraid.

His left hand cups the side of Hanzo’s face, thumb across his cheek, “You are sure?” Akande’s voice lowers, as does his head.

Hanzo thinks of Genji. Of everything he has done. The anger that burned within him when he struck his brother from the sky.

He thinks of Jesse, a warm weight at his back every night. The smell of smoke and the taste of alcohol on the balcony of the watchpoint.

“We would be unstoppable.” Akande promises, “Talon could offer you more than just your empire, Hanzo.”

Hanzo closes his eyes, “I must refuse.”

A sigh, heavy and warm against his face.

“Losing you is difficult to bear.” Akande admits quietly, “You know I do not like refusal.”

Hanzo steadies his posture, jerks out of Akande’s grip and levels an arrow at his chest, “Then you should get use to my refusal from this point on.”

Akande grins, eyes dark and molten on Hanzo’s, “Then I look forward to seeing you again on the battlefield, my dragon.” He bows swiftly and slinks away.

Hanzo lets him.

Hanzo lowers his bow. Heart racing. Sweat beading down the back of his neck.

“-anzo!”

His comm fizzes to life, he did not realize it had been compromised.

“I am here.” He replies.

A relieved string of sighs on the other end from numerous members of his team, “Where are you? What’s your status?” Soldier 76’s voice is firm and bellows over the other questions of where he is.

“I will return to the rendezvous point shortly.” Hanzo states, “And 76?”

Yea?”

“Tell Winston that Talon is recruiting.”

Broken Dreams

MASTERLIST

A/N: This was requested by my lovely @lovethatmendeskid and I just loved the idea. I’m super nervous, legit shaking. I really hope you like it!

Word count: 3,502

I was sitting at the dining table in the kitchen, staring over at the full plate of - by now – very cold food. Food that – once again – weren’t going to be eaten.

I’d been sitting here for hours, but I stopped counting exactly how many that had passed by now. The more seconds that flew by, the more it stung in my heart.

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in another life, zeus is lounging on the couch of his best friend’s house and saying, “i’ll get a job, man, i swear it,” even though CEO seats only smell of sweat and he’s the type to smell of leaving, he says, “guess what’s up my sleeve” to ladies and shows off lightning bolt tattoos and gets drunk and cries and begs hera to come home because he has only ever known rest at the seat of her collarbone

hera’s is louis vuitton, devil wears prada. pants suits and hair up in a tight bun. a warning lies ready on her tongue, she is quick to scold, hard to love. she pours fireball into her morning coffee just to remind herself of the way he always smelled of burning, just so she could face a little bit of him and not come back running. in this life, she is divorced, is doing well, sometimes meets up with the baby mamas of her sour-faced ex-lover (if she could wash him out, she would, she would, she would, but lightning loves towers and she only feels at ease in thunderstorms and twenty-four stories because olympus was rebuilt into skyscrapers and nobody can tell her otherwise), sometimes gets over her hatred of them. the one who jumps at swans is her roommate, they both like romance movies and staying out late. she chooses alone. she chooses: i make my own home.

aphrodite is a party girl with black pumps and a wicked smile, facebook messages hephaestus while sex-skyping her little god of war, she says, “sorry” a lot. sometimes she thinks she is running out of love, sometimes she thinks there’s not enough love left. she comes around again to the satin of her lover’s beds, never feels warm. she says, fine. she says, i’m okay. ares here is commander of the department of defense, never settled down, never got the wife and two kids. one day in this life hephaestus hears a knock on his garage door and walks on over. in this life, they’ve got braces for broken people like him. when he answers, it’s just her, no makeup, just her in her big-eyed weepy mess, and she says, “you actually listen” so he listens for a little. she explains slowly; new term, polyamorous. she says, heart is steady bead on both people. he says, “i know, i understand,” she says, “but it’s hurting you,” he says, “i gave up hurting for other people a long time ago,” he says, “the war god and i go out for drinks and talk about anything but you” she cries again, a whole ocean. he says, “i am learning, and one day maybe it will be all us three” she says, “you wait for me,” and he does. more and more often, when the world tastes too much, she shows up at his door, to be the person she is when she’s unbeautiful. in this life, a little down the road, she takes a break from all of it and starts a no-kill shelter called “the golden apple”. hephaestus builds it for her. she kisses him on the cheek. one day, when the ares comes around, the three of them play video games. after that, it is not share-her. it is all-the-same.

athena turns down apollo on the radio, his song trapped in the throats of all who hear it. a good song, a catchy song, a hear-it-once-and-never-forget-it song. athena dropped out of school to pursue knowledge. she teaches around the world with a backpack on her back and a smile on her face. her girlfriend is a librarian. whenever she comes home, she swings the little woman up in her arms and bursts with stories. the woman laughs because stoic athena in public is not the athena of private, is not knowledge-river athena. athena freelances as a journalist. anywhere she can give out information is good enough. eventually her name and “breaking news” are synonymous.

artemis goes to the red carpet on the arms of her brother, says that the world of hollywood is too much sunlight for her, she goes back to working as the city’s best detective, the hunt in her blood for monsters among men. in her free time, she follows athena down to places, traps poachers who would use her name to ruin the lives of beasts. hera has learned long ago not to pester her about marrying. artemis comes out as ace/aro one day to her brother, who rolls his eyes at her. “you still get grossed out every time people kiss,” and then he bowls her over in a hug she didn’t know she needed. this is one of the only times he sees her cry. the next is eight years later at his wedding. the man he chooses as his partner has already undergone a secret artemis-style investigation. he came out clean, and she came out with a second brother. when her twin asks her about the happy tears, she jokingly tells him she was worried his was going to marry his car. he laughs, big sun laugh and says, “trust me, i was this close.” in hot summers, they go down to the docks and the two boys throw atemis in the water. she never stops complaining or loving it and loving them and is entirely happy when he becomes a father.

in this life, demeter raised a flowerchild who never took to the backbreak of farming, and in this life, hades’s black leather jacket at first made her spit. she despised his motorbike and his big smile and how loud his dog was and how her daughter jumped up nimbly on the back of that thing and flung herself at the horizon. but hades tries as hard as he can: the engine gets turned over into clean fuel even though he breaks his third finger in the middle of it, the leather jacket gets swapped out for a faux replication, he becomes vegan (”’sehpone,” he says in wonder one day, “you taught me how to live off of pomegranates”, sephie laughs), he makes deer-crossing signs and petitions for the rights of small-town farmers. Persephone becomes a wedding designer, loves making big shows out of a lot of flowers. after many holiday gifts (some so desperately approval-seeking that demeter actually chuckled at them), she relents. they have brunch on sundays, made specifically by hades and his whole-grain all-organic house. demeter at one point says, “actually, you’re so earthy-crunchy it’s more than even me” and hades drops the plate he’s holding. demeter comes to the engagement party and laughs when the cake is in the shape of a pomegranate seed. sephie says, “don’t worry mom. he knows what will happen if he does anything to me,” and demeter gives her daughter a proud smile and says, “you’ll crush him like a bug, won’t you sweetie?” and sephie looks over at her duckling god of death and says, “exactly”

hestia finds dionysus because that is what she does. a social security worker at first, she becomes keeper of the hearth-less. she starts with a small group of people and eventually became leader of a chain of homelessness shelters, all immaculate and warm and held to her standards. dionysus cries when she picks him up, he talks about having fallen in love again, she says, “rehab is your only option.” it is here that he meets someone who is also pansexual. it is here he realizes he is not broken. it is here where they wean him off of whiskey and heroin (”what a bad combination,” he’d later say, shaking his head, “like you really gotta choose one”) and where he breaks down often and throws things at hestia’s head and calls her more names than have ever been strung against her: it’s here he makes his best friend. when he gets out, he finds he’s still ever-thirsty, but this time, there’s less empty in him. he helps at her shelters. he meets a girl who is bisexual, she takes him to pride rallies. he later bursts into hestia’s room with a rainbow on his face and says, “there are so many like me! i’m not invisible! i’m not fake!” and she smiles and watches the hearth of his chest warm up and helps him become a leading spokesperson for activism. rather than letting people like him die in the streets, he uses his experience to say, “i lived survival, and you can live it with me.”

hermes is a surgeon over in the children’s section, found that this is where he should be. silicone valley wants him for his communication systems, but instead he feels like he needs to be somewhere the action is. poseidon comes to him in darkness with rough palms and says, “i have a very long-standing secret,” and hermes just nods his head. the surgery is done quickly and without charge. poseideon says, “thank you” four million times, and then she takes back off to her company dedicated to clean energy. she calls up hera crying and says, “i dd it, i did it, i did it, but what will he think of me,” and hera says, “i haven’t talked to zeus in six years but if he rejects you i will walk up to him and shake him until the right answers fall into his head” and when artemis hears she says, “i will go with you” and walks at her side the whole time even though poseideon is awash with emotions and ready to burst into tears. zeus opens the door and looks poseideon up and down and says, “did you do something  with your hair, sis?” and poseideon says, “eat my entire” before she’s swallowed by happiness and has to sit down on the concrete step and sob into her palms for sixty seconds. later she puts him in charge of the wind energy portion of her company. he gets his own place, but he never stops missing hera, who watches him from a distance and checks up on him through poseideon. hera says, “right now it’s about me. it can be about him if he keeps up the good behavior.” poseideon has never been so happy. she has her family and she has herself, in one piece, finally. she calls up sephone, she says, “listen, i’ve got a plan, okay?” and of course the wedding planner would have to be in charge of everything. 

in this life, the reunion is beautiful. dionysus doesn’t touch the alcohol. hestia stands beside him proud and wonderful. apollo (who wouldn’t come without being allowed to choose the music) and his husband push artemis into the pool, she returns the favor with athena’s help. hades and persephone beat everyone at beer pong, but demeter crushes them at gin rummy. posideon dances with her sisters. hera stands back and her mouth quirks and zeus watches her the whole time, in his new three-piece suit. aphrodite is in between two men, but she’s no longer quite in between them. she walks over to her once-king and says “love needs time and understanding” and he thinks: of course. of course. he will change who he is for her. she never needed him. he needed her. he needed this to feel in place: he needed a family, as one, as olympus with its golden gates. in this life, for one moment, they are all happy.

Running Low (Smut)

MASTERLIST

Request: Can i request where you and shawn break up but only for a couple hours then you make up? (Make up sex HAHAHA) thankss

Word count: 2,957

Running Low (Smut)

You were lying in the silent hotel room, looking out at the dark sky from the window beside the bed. Your legs were curled up underneath you, as you were hugging yourself tightly. Maybe, it would help put the broken pieces inside you back together.

Tears were still running down your sore cheeks, but you weren’t exactly sobbing anymore. They just quietly ran down, you barely even noticed them any longer.

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@becorvillo14 asked for: A romione headcanon or fic where hermione wears ron’s maroon sweater. 

i hope this fits the bill! pre-relationship romione set approximately during 5th or 6th year, starring our two favourite stubborn idiots :’’’)


“Hermione?” The voice is quiet where it interrupts the peace of the Gryffindor common room, barely more than a whisper. “Are you wearing my jumper?”

Hermione startles, turning around and knocking the books over from where they’re piled up next to her. “Ron! You scared me.”

Ron is looking at her with a bewildered expression. His eyebrows are creased together as he sits down in the space next to her, folding his long legs up beneath him and moving books out of the way in order to sit more comfortably. “That’s my jumper.” He says after a while of awkward silence. 

Hermione very deliberately does not look up from her work .“Is it? I didn’t realise.” 

Ron gapes her for a while. “It’s maroon. And it’s definitely too big for you.” 

“So?” Hermione lets her hair fall in front of her face, hopefully hiding the dark blush beneath her cheeks.

“So how did you put it on without realising that it was mine?” 

“I don’t know, I just did!”

“Right.”

“Right!”

Hermione huffs and wills her mind to focus back on the task at hand; namely, her Arithmancy homework- a task which proves far more difficult with Ron’s distracting presence. He’s not even doing anything, just sitting and picking at the carpet threads. For reasons she can’t name, Hermione finds it infuriating. 

There’s also the small fact that she is, indeed, wearing his jumper. She’d known from the moment she’d pulled it over her head that it wasn’t a good idea, but the jumper had been so warm and soft and distinctly Ron, she hadn’t been able to resist. Besides, it was late and the Gryffindor common room isn’t exactly known for being full of people at this time of night- how was she to know Ron, out of them all, would be the one to find her here, in his jumper no less? 

Hermione has just decided to end the awkward silence between them and run off upstairs so she can be mortified in peace when Ron speaks again. “It suits you, you know.”

Hermione blinks, confused. “I’m sorry- what?”

Ron looks up, his blue eyes meeting her brown. “The jumper. You should wear it more often… I mean, you can, if you like. I don’t mind.”

Speechless, Hermione nods a handful of times in quick succession, hurriedly gathering up the rest of her books before scampering up towards the girls’ dormitory. 

It’s not until she’s lying on her bead, heart pounding in her ears and Ron’s words circling in her brain that she realises she’s still wearing his jumper.

Falling In Love

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean and the Reader fall for each other but have a hard time expressing it, for fear of rejection.

Word Count: 1k-ish

Warnings: Slight Cursing, Fluff

Author’s Note: Heyyy guys!!! This is my entry for Mimi’s aka @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog‘s “Mimi’s Trope Challenge”!! I got the prompt: Secretly in love but for some reason can’t express it. I hope you guys like it!! *hides face* Feedback is definitely welcomed!!



You know that butterfly feeling people say they get when they’re in love?

Well I used to think that was a bunch of bullshit. I wasn’t like your typical girly girl who was all about the weddings and the falling in love at first sight. It just wasn’t me.

Why, you ask?

Well, because in my humble opinion, true love didn’t exist. One didn’t just fall in love out of the blue with someone and say “oh you’re the one for me”. At least not in my book.

But fuck me, man. Who would have thought that I would eat my own words? And in huge heaps of it. Hell, even to this day, I’m at a loss for words with this overwhelming feeling. And it scared the living hell out of me.

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dongan-chan  asked:

Hey babe. Just passing by to tell you I really love your blog and your writing. I'm thirsty for a smut with Xiumin. Can you please do one? In an elevator (my poor soul, ahah.. I'm going to hell after this)

Sorry for the wait love. Forgive me please, I hope it’s all that you want<3!

Elevator Quickies:

His hips pushed against yours as your bodies collided against the cold surfaced walls of the elevator. The metal bar that’s placed so sturdily against the wall was now digging into your back as his hands felt you up, gripping you here and there; tugging at your shirt, gripping at your hair demanding another kiss. His eyes were hungry, his desires burning through him heating his body up and making your heart skip beats. Little beads of sweat already starting to cover the both of you and it hasn’t even reached past five minutes yet. Xiumin pulled back to let you breathe, but his mouth wasn’t done with you yet oh no, nudging up your head with his chin he started to kiss a trail to your neck making a dark hickey spot there marking you as his and only his. Your whines only made him laugh as his hands gripped at your plump cheeks smacking the flesh through your black tights. 

“Minseok-” You gently called out, remembering what happened the last time you ever tried to stop him, you were sore for a week and had to lie about why you were limping to and from workouts. And that famous half smirk on his lips as he looked up at you only moving back a bit so that you could see the shadows of his eyes let you know he was thinking the same damn thing. 

“Hurry up.” You mumbled in defeat, he always got his way. No matter what time nor place, when he wanted you, it was in your best bet to give in. Of course he wouldn’t make you but when you finally did let the wolf loose he made sure to mark and bite where he pleased leaving you gasping for breath. 

More than excited with your answer, he reached back behind him to press the emergency button stopping the elevator in it’s tracks. It was the first time you’ve both done something so risky. Maybe because his friends were new at the job so they didn’t really check cameras or maybe because they knew who he was and would help them. And finally maybe MAYBE he was just a fucking kinky ass man who didn’t give a shit. And honestly right now you thought the third option was the best. 

“I don’t have the time to treat your body like I normally do. So let Minseokkie wreck you and I promise later I will go back over my work baby girl.” He flashed a charming boyish smile up at you, his thick pink lips pressing down against your chest right above the valley of your breast. He used his large calloused hands to slip down your tights towards your knees. His warm sweat palms lifting you up off the floor by your thighs and usually you would protest but today, you decided to let it slide. Your hands braced against his chest as he bent your knees, bending you in half pressing you harder against the wall. He smirked down at you, reaching a hand down he moved your panties to the side exposing your dripping wet cunt. 

“Always so wet for me to just push right in. I fucking love it.” He flashed a brilliant white smile that lit up the room (and though you felt bitter to admit it) your heart as well. You hooked one of your arms around his neck, lifting it to play in his soft brown hair, while your other hand went down behind your body going for his zipper. 

“I have to stay wet to take you daddy, you’re so big I need all the help I can get from my juices to make sure you stretch me out.” You mumbled the words against his lips, watching his smile stay there but his eyes hardened, the lust driven beast there at full swing. Luckily your hand moved while you talked and it was quick enough to get his zipper down. Because a matter of seconds he was swatting your hand away to remove his dick from his boxers sliding it up and down your entrance once and then he was pushing inside of your wet folds quickly. 

He was always so big, stretching out your walls in the best way possible. Your pussy clamped down around his shaft, his warmth inside of you, and you could feel all of his veins outlining his thickness. Your head rolled back, lips parted into a silent cry of pleasure as he started to move. Quick harsh rolls of his hips he gave you while keeping you bent against the wall. His hands gripped at your ass cheeks to keep you sturdy and make sure you didn’t fall on him. He brought his left palm up to slap your ass letting the resounding loud smack resonate through the small space between the two of you.

Your lungs filled with a short gasp of air before you were screaming in pleasure not able to hold it anymore. Minseok leaned in close biting on your shoulder, a part of your body that was a weird spot but he loved making love to it with his mouth. Sucking on the patch of skin he kept pushing his hips forward letting his balls slap your ass, the juices from your pussy sliding down your parted thighs and pressing onto the base of his dick as well as his balls. He groaned feeling the wet substance that was not only wrapped around his girth but pressed against his skin. 

His hips rotated and wind against yours, so that he could fuck you harder, the harsh sounds of skin slapping against skin making the elevator move gently which both terrified you and thrilled you all the more. Pressing your hands on his shoulders, you knitted your eyebrows together focusing on rolling your hips down to take him as well, helping him out a bit. Your hands clenched into fist against his shirt wrinkling it up as you stare in his eyes, heated gaze against heated gaze but looking into his eyes you could feel yourself being consumed by darker flames. 

Your lips crashed against his, making the beast more than eager to respond. His plump kissable lips pressing against yours that molded against his. The kiss was anything but sensual, it was raw, rough and carnal. His teeth soon started to bruise your lips with bites when his lips wasn’t sucking on yours. A free hand moving down to rub your clit as he pushed his body against yours holding you against the wall. He brought you closer and closer to you release with the pad of his fingers rapidly moving up and down your throbbing hardened bud. Your cries were swallowed by his kisses, hips twitching and hands tightening in his shirt. Your stomach knotted and your eyes clenched tightly shut as you released your cum all on his dick buried inside of you. He growled ‘yes’ urging you on letting you meet your end before he was following you cumming inside of your pussy. So much of the thick white stuff came out that he had to hold you against the wall to make sure you took it all not wanting to make a mess. 

He held you until you were both able to calm down a bit, your hands releasing the death grip it had on his shirt while his hands rubbed up and down your back and he kissed your sweaty hair back from your face. Little tiny laughs filling the air from both your lips. 

“That was nice and all. But make sure you actually make it to the room next time Minseok! I need this job and I’m not getting paid to watch you fuck- or am I?” Chanyeol asked over the speaker. 

“Fuck you.” Minseok yelled out trying to shield you from the camera and get you clothed again, him slipping out of you caused you both to groan and tremble at the loss. 

“Aren’t you wore out from that round? Also, don’t try to hide her, I saw plenty while she was screaming.”

“CHANYEOL!” 

“If you keep looking at my girl, your life will be what you’re afraid to loose next.” Minseok warned while you screamed and flailed holding onto him. He laughed softly picking you up like a princess while Chanyeol complained and once the elevator got swinging in motion again. You kissed your handsome man until it was time for you both to get off and head into round 2. 

Kids in Love (Valentine’s Special)

MASTERLIST

Request: Can you do somethin’ somethin’ cute for valentines day?

Word count: 2,890

Kids in Love (Valentine’s special)

Shawn unlocked the front door to their house and made his way into the hall. He was humming a joyful melody, nodding his head along to the music in his headphones, blasting on the highest level.

She never really understood, how he could stand the noise being that abnormally loud.

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This Love (Part 1)

Characters: Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter, eventual Bucky x Reader

Warnings: angst, past character death

Summary & A/NSoulmate AU where you can only see color after recognizing your soulmate for the first time. I realize June 19th was the day of Peggy Carter’s funeral, and I never wrote a fic about it. This is a homage before we get started… I’ve been listening to Ryan Adam’s cover of “This Love” and feeling angsty.

Masterlist here | Part 1 | Part 2 (next)

June 19th

The sun beat down, the cheery weather a stark contrast to the way his heart clenched. A bead of sweat dripped down his brow, amongst other places. Bucky tugged at his tie, finding nothing he did made it any more comfortable or his suit any less itchy. He closed his eyes for a second, putting a hand over his abdomen like his therapist had taught him. Inhale, exhale- he focused on the way his body expanded with his breath, until the jitters stopped and he managed to relax the frown that seemed to be permanently plastered on his face.

Sighing, he raised his hand to knock. But the door opened just as he reached for it.

“Hey Buck.” Steve greeted his friend, letting Bucky clap him on the back in greeting. Both his hands were in his pocket, and despite the small smile plastered on his face, his eyes were red.

“Ready? I brought the daisies.”

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smol!Kakashi masterpost

This series is a work-in-progress, but I thought I’d collect the various instalments for ease of readers. (And, hey, does anyone have an idea for a series title? I’ve been sticking with smol!Kakashi for lack of a better idea.)

These are listed in chronological order instead of posting order. Or, well. As much as possible given some of them skip across years.


i guess i’ll have to learn to be delicate (with your heart)

bone and beads/unearthing monuments

snowflakes on eyelashes

if you were to go (into the woods) today

rockabye rockabye

pick a colour (here, give me your hand)

measure of last

hope you stick around

falling down (stairs, and on other things too)

bolt to the heart

campfire smoke (the hinges creak)

bang bang (shots in the night)

do you have a pair of

if dreams were thunder


If you’ve left a prompt for this series, I do in fact have them all collected somewhere and will (eventually) get around to writing them. If you haven’t left a prompt but there’s something you’d like to see, drop me a line and I will do my best to write it (eventually).

Last Edited: July 28, 2017

In This Moment - Part Two

Request: Hi. Can you write were y/n and shawn meet on a vacation? thank yu!

Word Count: 2,305

In This Moment - Part two

Shawn had been a gentleman and put his jacket around my shoulders, as we were walking down the beach. I think, he’d noticed, the little goose bumps on my body, therefore hurried to wrap it around me.

“I love it here” I said, looking at the water.

“Me too, it’s so peaceful” Shawn agreed with me.

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