i feel like crying there were just so many moments i swooned over

you’re hot (when you’re mad)

isaac knows the perfect way to distract his wife when she’s angry.  

inspired by this post:  “you know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex” and “can we fuck? like, now?”  

“You know, when this is over, we should really have angry sex.”

“Isaac.” I sighed. “You’re not listening to me.”

He reclined further against the pillows on our bed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I am, honey. You’re mad because you think I’m trying to control you. You think I’m trying to turn you into an obedient little Stepford Wife, just because I said I wanted you to stop working so much.”

“Stop saying ‘I think.’ It’s dismissive and inaccurate. I know those things to be facts.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a subtle smirk. “Oh, do you now? I love it when you act like a little know-it-all. It turns me on.”

“I-saac, stop flirting with me like we’re teenagers. I’m being serious. You knew when you married me that I wasn’t going to be a typical housewife for you. Now all of a sudden, you want me to stay home?”

Isaac shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, and I feel like you know that. Will you just come back to bed?” The covers were up to his waist, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit tempted.

“No,” I muttered with half conviction, full petulance, regretfully tearing my gaze from his sun-kissed, toned chest, and the light smattering of hair that covered the hard plane under his stomach, the treasure trail that led to happier places than this conversation. “I’m not getting back in bed until you apologize.” I was standing at the foot of the mattress, admittedly with my hands on my hips, none too proud of my stubborn streak. Isaac was being ridiculous, so I had to hold my ground. Maybe if I kept telling myself I was standing up for women everywhere, I could get through this argument.

“What do you want me to apologize for? Noticing that you were becoming a workaholic? That you’re always tired and frustrated after you come home from work? Baby, all I did was suggest you should cut back on work, delegate some of your responsibilities to other people.”

I shook my head. “No, I can’t. I don’t want my boss to think I can’t handle all of it. He already makes sexist jokes about how I’m the first woman he’s ever promoted to my position. Besides, you said you wanted me to stay home, not work less.”

“That’s the same thing.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Okay, fine, it’s not. Is it so bad that I want to spend more time with my wife?”

“We… spend time together…” I mumbled unconvincingly.

Isaac laughed sarcastically. “Oh yeah, I get to talk to you five minutes before bed because you pass out so quickly from being at work till 9 pm. Oh, and if I’m lucky on the weekend, in between your 15 minute breaks because you bring the office home with you.”

I groaned and paced to the other side of the room. “Well, what do you want me to do?! I’m sorry I care about my job!”

“I get that! I care about my job too, but at least I’m here. And you’re not. I feel like all I ever do is cook and clean and wait for you to get back, holding out some small hope that you might stay awake for just a minute longer so I can share maybe two words with you–that’s if you’re not too tired from crying into my shoulder because you had a bad day at work.”

“Well I–I mean,” I stammered, aimlessly grappling for another line of argument, “so, that’s what this is about? You’re tired of comforting me when I cry?”

“No, of course not–”

“So then, you’d rather I cook and clean, have the house spotless and dinner ready on the table when you get home from work?” Isaac didn’t say anything. A knowing grin spread across his face, accompanied with a playful twinkle in his eyes, and no counterpoint could’ve pissed me off more than that.Well?

“I’m not doing this with you anymore,” he said calmly. “I’m not engaging in this because we both know you instigate fights when you’re defensive. And you’re defensive because you know I’m right. You’re trying to spin this into a feminist issue, willfully ignoring my valid points. At this point, you’re just Fox News-ing soundbites to make me sound sexist.”

“Really? Fox News-ing soundbites? Cute.”

“I thought I was talking to my wife, not Bill O’Reilly…”

I audibly gasped. “You did not just call me Bill O’Reilly. Have fun sleeping on the couch tonight, buddy.”

Isaac chuckled. I stared back, trying to appear unimpressed, trying not to give away that I was completely turned on. It’s not like I could help my biological responses. My female sensibilities always swooned whenever Isaac managed to stay calm, while also simultaneously calling out my bullshit. Not many people could do that. It’s why I married him: Isaac could put me in my place. I needed that sometimes. Still, I didn’t like admitting I was wrong.

“You’re only hearing what you want to hear,” he continued. “You’re not listening to what I’m saying, so I’m not arguing with you anymore.”

“Fine. You’re the one who brought it up.” I threw my hands up in frustration and headed towards the bedroom door, stopping when he called out my name.

“Woah, woah. Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

I turned the knob and opened the door. “Um, I’m leaving? Since you don’t want to talk to me anymore?”

Isaac’s grin disappeared. “This is true. I’m done talking, but you’re not going anywhere.” He tilted his head and looked me up and down. Five years married, I still hadn’t built up an immunity to The Look.

“Oh really? Why’s that?” I challenged. My defenses were crumbling with each passing second, my flesh burning each time his hungry eyes raked over my body.

“Because darling, you’re hot when you’re mad, and having it out with you always makes me horny. Since I know you are too, why don’t we stop talking in circles, and fuck. Like, now.”  A few moments passed and we stared each other down, both waiting for the other to make the next move. “Come on baby, I can almost taste you from over here. And you look so sexy standing over there in nothing but panties and my t-shirt. Get back in this bed, Mrs. Lahey.”

Shit. He pulled out the surname card. There went my last line of defense. “You know what? Fuck it,” I muttered, and stormed angrily across our room. I crawled over the mattress to straddle his waist where he leaned against the headboard. I peeled off my t-shirt and his fingers wrapped around my throat, reeling me in for a harsh kiss, gnashing together teeth and tongue.

“You really know how to get under my skin,” I spoke against his pliant, soft mouth, weaving my fingers through his hair to tug on his curls.

He chuckled. “That’s exactly where I intend to be, pet.” Isaac’s hands traveled up my thighs and under my ass. He roughly squeezed, then swiftly, he brought down one hand and smacked my ass. I yelped at the unexpected contact, then moaned as he rubbed the stinging area. He spread apart my cheeks and moved aside my underwear. Isaac slipped a finger into my folds and spread my wetness over my clit, circling the bundle of nerves slowly. It was when he started spelling out the alphabet over the sensitive bud that I started emitting whiny little gasps. When he got to W, I was mewling and riding his hand. “What do you say, princess? Wanna ride my cock? Or are you still mad at me?” he mocked.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m furious actually, but for now, I wanna fuck your brains out.” I removed the covers from his naked body and fisted his shaft, holding it steady so I could spit on the tip. I spread the slick saliva all over his cock while he fucked my mouth with the fingers he just took out of my pussy. Smug asshole knew I liked sucking on his fingers. They were just so long and elegant and pretty and I loved the way Isaac could reach the back of my throat. There was also his kink about laying his fingers flat against my tongue and stroking the flesh to let me taste myself.

I continued to stroke him, albeit needlessly. “Well, that didn’t take long. You must really like it when I’m mad. Do you just piss me off on purpose, honey?”

Isaac smirked. “Like you’re complaining. You like makeup sex as much as I do. So why don’t you stop messing around,” Isaac continued, gently extracting my hand from his cock and lifting my hips so he was positioned at my entrance, “and take me where you really need me?”

I scoffed. “Me, need you? I think it’s the other way around.”

Suddenly, Isaac stopped circling my clit. “Is that so?” He removed his hands from my body altogether, sat back, smirked, and crossed his arms over his chest. I gaped. Oh no he did not.

“Are you kidding me?” I deadpanned. “You’re seriously gonna stop now?”

Isaac shrugged. “It’s not like I need you.”

I glanced down. “Your boner suggests otherwise.”

“I can take care of that myself.”

“What, and pass this up? You think your hand compares to me?” Isaac remained unfazed, challenging me with one raised brow. “Aww come on, Lahey, what was it you were saying earlier? About getting under my skin?” I made my voice small and delicate, and bit down on Isaac’s earlobe when I spoke. “Don’t you want to be inside me, baby?” Positioning myself on his thigh, I rode him the way I did the first time we fucked, in the driver’s seat of his car after Derek and Stiles said “I do.” I remember the way Isaac’s lips tasted like champagne and icing when I shoved him against his car door, pulled him down by his tie, and kissed him for the first time since we ended things in high school. “Remember the first time I rode you like this?” Isaac pressed his thumbs into my hip bones and guided my movements. The cocky pretense was gone, replaced by hazy lust. He grunted an affirmation. “It was right after Derek and Stiles got married. We fucked for the first time that night, and you made me come twice. In a fucking car. I think I knew then you were the one,” I joked.

Isaac grinned. “It takes flexibility to do what we did in that car. That was all you.”

My laughter transformed into a heady moan as my clit brushed against his leg in that perfect angle. “You felt so good inside me that night. I love the way you feel Isaac, how you fill me up and stretch me out. Please, baby, I want you so bad. I want–ah! want you, inside me… it’s so warm inside this body, and it’s so soft.” Even though I was trying to make Isaac cave, there wasn’t any deception behind my words. I needed him now. “If you don’t fuck me soon, I’m gonna come, and I really wanna come all over your cock. Please fuck me, Isaac, please… I want it so bad…”

“Shit, are you beggin’ me?” Isaac’s fingers wrapped into my hair and he pulled me down to kiss me. “Are you fuckin’ begging me?” In a flurry of movement, Isaac had me on my back, and positioned himself at my entrance. “This what you want?” He slid into me so fast and hard my eyes nearly rolled into the back of my head. My back arched away from the mattress, and he wrapped his arm around my torso as he slammed into me relentlessly. “Fuck, how do you always feel so good?” He grunted into my shoulder. Suddenly, he stopped. This whiny little noise escaped my throat at the loss of contact. “Turn over. Do it, now. Good, now stick your ass out.” He delivered another stinging slap to to my ass. “Higher, just like that. Wanna fuck you just… like that…”

For the second time, Isaac entered me, sheathed hilt-deep in my pussy. It was all I could do to claw at my sheets because the new angle Isaac had achieved was making it hard to stay on my knees. His hand on my hip holding me in place was helping a little bit.

“Isaac,” I managed to say, albeit breathily, “I’m gonna come.”

He slowed his movement and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on my spine. “Good, me too.” Isaac snaked a hand around my hip and toyed with my clit. All the while he fucked me slow and deep, with his chest against my back, talking filth into my ear. My moans came out in silent mewls, with frustrated growls peppered in because Isaac’s pace was torturously slow. “There it is, there’s that anger I love so much,” Isaac said. “Look at you, clawing at the sheets, fuckin’ growling at me. You hate it when I go slow like this, don’t you?” He pumped into me again, this time, with more gusto, and I could feel my orgasm bubbling up, so close to brimming over.

“Please, Isaac,” I moaned pathetically.

“Please, what?”

“Please let me come,” I whined.

“Shhh, baby, you’ll come soon enough. You’re just gonna have to be a little patient–oh, shit, you just gonna clench around me like that? Make your pussy all nice and tight for me like that?” Isaac grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled, tugged sharply the way I liked it. “You’re gonna get it now, darling.” He rubbed my clit faster and rutted into me fast and deep. He came before me, but that was probably my fault for clenching around him. I milked out his orgasm before he sent me over the edge.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I whispered as my body quivered. The jolts of pleasure continued for a good minute afterwards, and Isaac laid me on my side and cradled my body against him. He cupped my cheek and brushed soft little kisses all over my face.

“Shh, I got you,” he said softly.

When I finally recovered and muddled through the foggy haze, I realized I was no longer mad. Isaac had that effect on me when he made me come really hard, obliterating my anger and my pride, enough for me to apologize. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

“Mm-mm, don’t be. I told you angry sex fixes everything.”

I laughed. “True. You were right about all of it. I’ve been working too much. We barely see each other.”

He kissed my forehead. “S’alright. I just get worried about you. And I miss you.” Isaac moved his fingertips against my back, tracing lazy, comforting circles.

“I miss you too.” I snuggled deeper into his chest. “I’ll cut back. Wanna spend more time with you.”

“Is that right? You’re actually gonna listen to me?” He feigned shock.

I giggled and lightly punched his arm. “Shut up.” I pressed a contented kiss against his chest. “Love you,” I mumbled as I dozed off. Isaac’s fingers combed gently through my hair, lulling me into slumber.

“Love you more.”


Wrong Place, Right Time.

Request from anon: Hey. Love your writing. Can I request a fic where Reader sleeps naked. Bucky’s so exhausted after a mission he barely can keep his eyes open and doesn’t realize he’s off by a floor, quickly showers, and collapses into bed. Next morning Bucky wakes up with no way to leave the bed without waking Reader. Both of them are mortified when they realize what’s happened but eventually it leads to them revealing they’ve had feelings for each other for a long time. (Smut or fluff, but preferably both). <3

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 2,456

Warnings: Smut, swearing, NSFW, unprotected sex…..anything I have missed let me know!

Disclaimer: None of the GIFs used are mine. All credit goes to their creators <3

It had been the fifth mission in as many days for The Avengers and they were all exhausted; Bucky more so given that he was still having a daily fight with the memories that taunted him 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and so as they all headed to their respective living quarters he attempted to do the same. A feat of which was made more difficult by the fact that it was becoming increasingly harder to keep his eyes open. 

One by one each of the team left the lift and soon enough he was the only one left to reach his room. He turned his attention to the buttons on the panel at the side of the doors – his vision wasn’t exactly his best friend at the moment though so the buttons that would usually be so clear were now completely out of focus for the tired soldier.

The only option he had if he wanted to get any form of sleep tonight was to go on memory and press the one he was sure he usually did.

By the time the lift doors opened he was particularly asleep. His aching body all but fell on the floor as he stumbled over to what he believed to be his room.

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Oh, What A Beautiful Wedding (mobster tony drabble)

Summary: it’s your wedding day.

Requested by: @hollycornish​ forever ago and i finally got around to finishing this. lol.

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: fluff?, nervous wedding jitters

Feedback would be nice, you know?

He promised.

He promised you that he wouldn’t go to the extremes. He promised you it wouldn’t be a damned city-wide event. But you knew your soon-to-be-husband was all for flair and extravagance. You knew he was goin’ to bring the damned president into the city for it. You knew he was going to invite every politician and royal family member possible to this event.

“You look amazing,” Natasha smiled at you as she gazed at your reflection in the mirror. “He’s going to swoon over you once he sees you walking down the aisle.”

“If he doesn’t cry at the site of me, I’m turning right around and going home to pack my bags.” you joked as you leaned into Natasha’s hand as she touched your cheek. “I told him not to make it so big. I can’t believe him.”

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Powerful - Jaime Lannister

You have loved Jaime since you were a child. Everything he had done, the people he had killed and the horrors of the rest of his family did nothing to deter your affections. But now, Cersei Lannister sat on the Iron Throne and grew more, wildly defensive with each passing day. What happened when you tell Jaime that you’ve had enough? ( Words : 1491)

Warnings : Lannister incest of course, and lots of drama???

Originally posted by my-favoritess

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” Jaime Lannister asked in shock, and in concern. You had just barged into his room, tears running down your cheeks. You simply just shook your head and the Lannister man stood up. “Tell me what happened,” Jaime said softly, hoping a gentle approach would coax you to open up.

“It’s just,” you started but you couldn’t finish. More tears fell from your eyes. Jaime frowned and stepped towards you, his arms outstretched. You leaned into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt more tears fall down your cheeks when you felt his strong arms envelope your middle.

“I don’t know what happened,” Jaime started, his voice eerily calm, “but if someone hurt you, they will fall upon my blade faster than you can imagine.” You buried your face in his covered chest that his words; grateful for his support. You could feel the wet spots, where your salty tears had soaked into his shirt, against the skin of your cheek.

“Sorry,” you murmured, pulling away slightly. Yet Jaime wouldn’t let you go. His arms stayed around your waist and you could feel his chilled, gold hand against your back. “I didn’t mean to come in like that,” you whispered. Jaime moved his arm, brushing his left hand against your face to wipe away some the tears that lingered there.

“It’s quite alright, Y/N. You’ve been a family friend for how many years?” You gave him a weak smile and shrugged. You couldn’t even picture how you looked. Red in the face, your hair messed from being upset; but Jaime didn’t care. “Now,” he said, moving his hand away from your face, “what’s wrong?” His green eyes peered down into your face, as if trying to search for the answer.

“Jaime,” you said quietly. “It’s fine, I swear it,” but the Kingslayer was having none of it. His hand went to your neck, his thumb skirting against your jaw.

“Anything that makes you cry is not fine,” he said seriously. He leaned his head to yours, pressing the softest of kisses to your forehead. You swooned slightly, despite Jaime’s affection being common. Like he had said, your family had been a friend to House Lannister every since you could remember. You grew up alongside Jaime and his family, so you knew everything about him. Everything, included where his true affections lied.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pulling away from him fully. “I promise, it was nothing anyone did. Your hands can remain clean of blood.” Jaime gave you a half-hearted smile, as he still wished to know what had caused you to cry. He knew you far too well. You cried only in the darkest moments. When everything became too much to bear. He had seen you only a few times, once when you had been playing with his sister. It suddenly came to him in that moment. The only person who could get under your skin and make you upset without truly trying.

“It was Cersei, wasn’t it?” You curled your bottom lip between your teeth, unwilling to answer. “Y/N,” Jaime said, stepping towards you. “If it was her, I can talk to her. I can keep you away from her and,” he stopped when you started to shake your head.

“It won’t help, Jaime. You interfering might make it worse.” The Lannister cocked his head and leaned towards you again. “She’s the queen now and she’s your…”

You trailed off at that and Jaime stiffened. You had always had an inkling that there was something between the two twins. Your theories were only hardened when Joffrey came into the world; with his hair like golden spun straw.

“Do you-” you cut him off with a stern look. Your friend frowned and let you speak.

“Yes, I know. I had suspicions before, but Ceresi made it very clear this evening when I asked for your company during my travels to the Westerlands.” Jaime’s brows furrowed at your words, wondering why his sister would blatantly make their taboo romance public. “She said your place was beside her, not near the likes of myself. She said that you were hers and no one else’s.”

“That was not her place to say such things,” Jaime said, feeling angry course through his veins. “She does not control me in that manner,” he hinted at the idea of romance. You merely shook your head again, wondering why you had to love such a complicated man. You had admired Jaime as children, but those feelings had run rampant by now. Somehow, the subject of your affections had never once put that together.

“She said it anyway,” you said, turning towards the door. “I have to pack,” you said trying to suppress the tears that threatened to resurface. “I head to the Westerlands at dawn.” You stepped over to the door, your hand just brushing the knob before it was pulled away.

Jaime’s natural hand tightened around your wrist, turning you to look at him. His face was set, worried and slightly angered. You frowned and attempted to pull your hand free. Despite all your efforts, Jaime remained in your space. The close proximity, and that look in his eyes, made your insides flutter like mad.

“I will come with you,” he said, hoping to sound more calm than he felt. “Don’t let my sister intimidate you. I will let no harm come to you, especially now that you know.” You scoffed and finally got your hand free from his own. Jaime looked down at you with confusion, as if he thought his words would solve your problems.

“Especially now,” you repeated. The words left a bitter taste in your mouth. “When we were kids we’d defend Tyrion from your sister’s evil tricks. When you became Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, I was there, smiling at you. Even when you lied and snuck about, I was at your side.” Everything was spilling from your heart out your mouth, and even Jaime could sense the storm coming. “But you only seem to care when you’re at stake, or when my life is balancing right on the edge. You save me in the nick of time, every time; always. Do you know what that does to a person? Toying with ones feelings after they have committed them to you.”

“No,” Jaime said quietly, his eyes still holding your gaze. He would never show it, but his heart was racing. The beautiful girl he had known since he firs held a sword was confessing her feelings to him. He didn’t know how to genuinely react, so he didn’t react very much at all. You let out a tired laugh and wiped at your eyes. You glanced back up at him, letting him see your tear stained cheeks in the soft light of dusk; letting him see the years of damage on your soul.

“For years I have stayed with you, your family. We have had each other’s backs since childhood,” you said coldly. “Despite all that time, you haven’t even glanced at me the way you look at your sister. The times I hinted at what could be between us, you were looking at her. Because she is powerful. Just as Brienne is powerful in her own right.” Jaime flinched at the mention of his companion. Granted they fought for different things now. “You love strong women,” you finished, “and I will never be enough. Not for you.”

“Y/N,” Jaime flipped through everything he could say to make this better. Then the man realized there was nothing he could say to make up for all that lost time. “I’m sorry,” he murmured and you nodded solemnly. You turned your back to him, taking a deep breath. Jaime took a step towards you then, still desperate to make amends. “Is there anything I can do to show you that you are enough. Please,” he begged, resting his chest against your back. His heart ached at the thought of you leaving him in your state. He wanted to prove he could love you just the same.

His arms hugged your waist, pulling your body flush to his front. He rested his head against the back of your shoulder and you felt his lips brush against the exposed skin there. You suppressed a shudder as his short, blond hair tickled the sensitive skin of your neck. If you let go, you would’ve melted into his touch, just as you had done so many times before. Enough was enough. You pulled free of his embrace, meeting his eyes for what could be the last time.

“Meet me at the gates if you so wish,” you whispered. “If you do join me, maybe we can work through this.” The air around the two of you had changed. With everything out in the open, it hung in the space between your bodies like a body from a tree. You could almost feel his breath on your lips, that’s how close Jaime had gotten. You hand turned the door open and you added, “we ride at dawn.”

You left Jaime, standing in his doorway with his head hung in deep thought. Going against his sister and leaving with you, meant tearing himself away from the rest of his family; his lover. But if he didn’t leave, he would lose his best friend and that was something he didn’t think he could survive. After losing his children, his family, he couldn’t lose you.

However, leaving with you also meant angering an already testy Queen. Cersei had turned vile with her new found power; her heart tormented by the same loss that plagued Jaime himself. Whatever path he chose lead to danger; but whatever path he chose also shone with the hope of possible love.

a part two maybe???

Rockin’ in Rio

I swear I am finishing Neighbors 5 but I’m in such a fluff mood, guys, it’s crazy! I just wasn’t able to write smut the other day and after watching Maroon 5′s set at Rock in Rio I had to get this out… bear with me! And get ready for some fluff! xo

“Geoff, I’m so emotional!” Jo whispers, gripping Geoff’s arm, looking on as Shawn performs ‘Never Be Alone’ in front of 120,000 people at Rock in Rio, the crowd a sea of lights.

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 13 (2.0) PART 14 END

Text series with last part as a fan fiction - can be read alone

AO3 version

Word count: 9,787

Paring: Jungkook x reader

Warning: Super fluff, cliche, gross gooey, cheesy asf

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anonymous asked:

In light of Valentines day; could you do scenarios of the Chocobros, Nyx Ulric (if you can) and Cor proposing to their s/o? PS love the stuff you've been writing. :D Tis amazing and brilliant just like you!

I changed up one of them (heheh) just a little bit. Also, I got writer’s block for Cor, I’m so sorry! I’ll do a one-shot for him sometime soon based on this prompt to make up for it. And I still have yet to see Kingsglaive, so for now it’s just our four favourite boys.

This one is pretty long, since it’s a bunch of scenarios, so it’s under the cut. Enjoy! And Happy Valentine’s Day <3

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Sober- Part Two

G-Dragon & Song Mino-Angst

Part One Part Three

Originally posted by ibmariji

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Look, it’s Peter Pan!

+ Robbie Kay

author’s note: au but like… au-ish? probably v shitty imagine & sorta long and disappointing!!

Prompt: In which a boy named Robbie Kay is an actor at Disney, playing Peter Pan & he meets a girl but can’t break character to ask her out. 

Today is the day you and your family is going to Disney Land. The happiest place on Earth, tailored for even the oldest of ages.

A place and the figment of Disney its self is timeless, which is why you picked the special place for the whole family when you were asked to pick. 

A small, dainty hand is clutched to yours, the sweat seeping from the hand to yours. You look down and grin at your little sister who is so infatuated with Disney that she doesn’t realize she is sweating. 

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Request: G-Dragon has a daughter that is 4 years old and does not know if he is her real father because he is never around.

(For optimal immersion, I am naming your daughter Mirre.)


   “Wake up, baby girl.” I whisper softly, brushing the tips of my fingers over my daughter’s soft cheeks. With a tiny giggle, the corners of her lips begin to widen, revealing the adorable smile that melts my heart every time I see it.

   “Morning, eomma.” She stares up at me with bright, beautiful eyes that remind me so much of Ji-Yong. She is a spitting image of him. He has always taken pride in it, when he is around, that is. 

   Leaning down, I press a kiss to her forehead. A hearty laugh falls past her pink lips when I lift her right out of bed and into the air, smiling widely up at her. Bringing her back down, I rest her on my hip and carry her to the kitchen where I set her on the counter. “What would you like for breakfast, love?” I ask, leaning on my elbows.

   “Whatever is easiest for you.” She smiles at me. I can’t help but feel overwhelmed by love. 

   “How did I end up with the most considerate, intelligent, gorgeous, and loving daughter in the world?” I sigh, wrapping her small body in my arms and hugging her impossibly close. She giggles loudly as she squeezes me back. With a sigh, I release her and look through the cabinets to begin making her breakfast. “So, Mirre, your birthday is in a few days. Appa and I would like to know what you want.” I inform, already knowing and having already bought the deluxe doll house she has been swooning over for months.

   I wait for a few moments, but when the silence goes on for too long, I furrow my eyebrows and turn around to face her. To my surprise, a frown has settled itself on her pouty lips. “What’s wrong, Mirre?” I ask, becoming concerned.

   She looks up at me with a tiny jump, as if she were just startled out of deep thought. “Is G-Dra- G-Dragon my real appa?” She asks.

   Every ounce of breath has left my body as I stare at my daughter in complete shock. My mouth slips ajar, the words I was going to speak caught on the tip of my tongue. How do I even respond to this? Why would she think Ji-Yong isn’t her appa? Why would she refer to him as his stage name? I know she has heard me call him Ji-Yong. Many more questions fill my mind but by her silence, I can see she is becoming uncomfortable. “W-What makes you think he isn’t your appa?” I question somewhat sternly. 

   A frown settles itself on her face. “He never comes home.. I can’t remember the last time I saw him. He didn’t come to my last birthday, he missed Christmas and he missed your birthday, too, eomma. You’re always sad.” Mirre looks up at me with tears leaking from her eyes. 

   From the wetness on my cheeks, I’m also crying. I didn’t even realize I was sad about this. Mirre brings up a good point. I’ve been ignoring the fact that Ji-Yong is never around. I never wanted to accept it and it has always been easiest to ignore how much I’ve been hurting. “And now you’re crying again.” Mirre sighs, her bottom lip quivering. 

   “Hey,” I smile, wiping my tears away quickly, “I don’t want you to worry about me, okay? Ji-Yong is your appa. He will be here for your birthday and he will be around more often. I promise you.” I hold my pinky out, grinning when she links her own tiny pinky with my own. 

   “Hey, babe.” Ji-Yong greets upon answering his phone. My immediate instinct is to melt into his words, but I refrain.

   “Hi.” Silence spreads over the line. I can tell he knows something is wrong, which is exactly why he isn’t saying anything.

   “Is everything okay?” He questions cautiously. 

   He genuinely sounds concerned, which leads me to bite my lip harshly, desperately trying to hold back tears. “Ji-Yong..” I murmur, tears already beginning to slip down my cheeks. 

   A sigh falls past his lips and I just know he is running a hand down his face. “Don’t cry, love. C’mon, you can tell me.” He says softly. 

   With a deep breath, I am able to compose myself. “You’re never around.” His stunned silence prompts me to continue. “When’s the last time you saw your daughter? She asked me today if G-Dragon was her real appa. She barely even knows who you are.” I rant, all of the words just spilling out of my mouth. “Think about that for a while. Maybe you’ll start putting you daughter before your career, G-Dragon.” 

   “Happy birthday, my love.” I sigh, kissing Mirre on the cheek. She giggles happily, staring up at her deluxe doll house. The last of the guests have left, and I can just tell how exhausted she is from all the exertion and playing.

   “Thank you for the presents, eomma.” There is a hint of sadness to her voice. I can see in her eyes that she misses her abeoji. “Appa isn’t going to come, is he?” She murmurs, her sad, little eyes gazing at the floor boards. 

   I immediately engulf her in my embrace. “I don’t know what to say, my love.” I sigh, at a complete loss for words. How do you explain to your daughter that her abeoji cares more about his career than he does his family? “Appa is just-”

   “I’m here!” A voice suddenly yells from the doorway. Mirre and I both snap our heads towards the direction of the noise. Standing in front of the door, holding a giant, wrapped box, with sweat pouring down the side of his face, is Ji-Yong. “I got stuck in traffic for three hours.” He gently places the box down and leans against the wall. “I tried to get here on time.. this was my chance to show you both that I’ve changed and I messed it up..” 

   Before his spiel can continue, a tiny squeal interrupts him. “Appa!” Mirre shrieks, bursting out of my hold and sprinting as fast as her miniature legs will take her towards Ji-Yong. “Appa!” She jumps into him, effectively knocking him over.

   “Hey baby girl.” He laughs holding her tightly to his body. “I missed you so much.”

   “I missed you, too, appa.” She cries. I can see the pain in his eyes just from those few simple words. He makes eye contact with me, but I quickly avert my gaze. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore.” 

   Ji-Yong lets out a choked sob. “No, baby girl. I love you and eomeoni with all my heart. You two are the only girls I want in my life.” He says sincerely, running his fingers through her hair. 

   “Did you get me a present?” She asks excitedly. He nods, prompting her to run over and rip away the wrapping paper. “Appa.. eomma already got me this doll house.” She giggles, looking over at him with innocent eyes. 

   I hold in a laugh, shaking my head. “Oh man… do you want me to return it and get you something else?” He frowns.

   “No, it will do.” She grins. “Now my dolls will have two houses!” 

   As I stare fondly at our daughter, I don’t notice Ji-Yong make his way over to me. “I’m sorry for never being here for the two of you.” He whispers. Heat rushes to my cheeks and I hold back the urge to start crying. “I didn’t have my priorities in check. I don’t want to mess up what I have. You and Mirre are my life. And I’m sorry it took me so long to figure that out.” He runs his fingertips over my cheek. “I love you.”

   “It’s going to take more than an apology and some sweet words to convince me otherwise.” I state matter-of-factly, smirking at him. He flashes me a smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss to my lips. 

   “I’ve got a lot planned for you, love.” He grins cheekily, pressing another kiss to my lips. “You’ll see soon. I’m changing my ways.” 

   “Appa!” Mirre calls. “Please come build the doll houses for me!” With a quick wink to me, Ji-Yong goes to help assemble the doll houses. I stare adoringly at my small family, knowing that things are going to turn around and only get better from here on out.

play (xii)

Originally posted by sefuns

❝nothing in this world can compare to my love for you❞
→ byun baekhyun/kim junmyeon
→ written on the same day as part ten & eleven (125 notes for an update)
one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, ?
a/n: i’m so sorry for the late update… i can’t believe i slept on play for three months, but hi, i’m back here. i hope you’ll like this part, i worked hard, but not hard enough. i promise to update every month! i’ll make sure i’ll follow that promise. fun fact: play is more than year old now. enjoy!! please do tell me your opinions or critiques on this update, i’ll appreciate it a lot. without further ado, here is a 3.2k long, part twelve of play. :)

Though the roof above your head shielded you from the harsh rain of the thunderstorm and its notorious winds, the storm had its own little storm brewing as the familiar words from the director echoed through the speakers and around the whole theatre.

“Dress rehearsal starts at twelve noon.”

The clock mockingly ticked away as its hands moved forward, signaling to you that each passing second is a second closer to confronting him. Your only answer to it was a blank stare, watching the seconds turn into minutes until the time to prepare was finished, and the inevitable was to come in a few moments.

As expected, the booming sound of a knock against your door echoed three times and so did the voice of the director. “Dress rehearsal in five minutes, everyone get into your positions.”

By this time, your stylist has already finished your hair and make up and ushered you to hurry and change into your costume. The scenario was just like any other rehearsal, the same actions and words, the same hurried and nervous feeling, everything was exactly the way it was before except for the two star crossed lovers in both worlds.

The aching feeling of love that was once so genuine, the scorching hot passion unable to be kept hidden, the possibility of a beautiful and blossoming relationship… gone with the wind, buried deep beneath the ground, cursed by the heavens above.

And nothing could compare to the moment your eyes fell on his as you walked to the stage. No matter how hard you tried to push away your consciousness of his betrayal and your sorrow and longing, it wasn’t enough because love always needed more than what you could give, and to you, this was love; a one sided love where you gave him your all, and he was afraid to give you a bit of himself.

The liveliness behind those chocolate brown eyes of his was faded, a touch of gray tainted it. The ends of his supple pink lips no longer turned upwards nor in that famous dashing smile that had you and many other women swooning. The fairly tanned skin he wore was of a painfully pale color, the patch of skin right below his eyes darkened by the sleepless nights where he trudged over his mistakes and missed opportunities, regretting each second he ignored you.

For a short moment, the world turned quiet; the lights were dimmed, the passing footsteps decreased, the stage was empty, and in the middle of the silence was you and him; you and Baekhyun.

Nothing would have been able to help you prepare yourself for this inevitable moment; his eyes slowly rising to bear into your own, his almost dead and empty soul caged behind those deep brown orbs preparing itself for its own destruction as his eyes trailed closer and closer to look at yours, and when it did, the world was suddenly so beautifully dead. Despite everything, Baekhyun has stolen your heart, kept in well hidden in his own two hands. Beautiful in the way that this one sided love of yours could shake the earth beneath your feet, dead in the way this one sided love of yours would be the only great pain to strike your heart.

Because he was the one who owned it. Each and every vein and artery, every drop of blood was his, making you slave to the sweet sound of his voice and the tender feeling of his skin. Every part of you wanted to sing yet scream in that moment; alone, together, silent, dark, yet so lonely, cold, and painful.

No actions were made as you stared into each other’s eyes, filling the void with despair and lost hopes, hearing the clock tick as each second pass by, and another second of happiness is lost.

The prickling and defeating sense of letting your tears fall, your little pride and battered heart has had enough of this; crying over the same man who couldn’t and wouldn’t love you. As each tear stained your cheek, falling into the ground, you watched Baekhyun stare at you, emotionless and unmoving, unbothered by the fast he was the cause of your destruction.

Seconds felt like minutes and you both remained at your spots, watching each other, wondering and regretting, only realizing that the world was watching as the familiar voice of the director rang through the speakers. “Come on, people! We don’t have all day, just do the ending scene.”

Every cell in your body, every last bit of your heart and soul wailed as the thought occurred in your head, the scene of such tender sweetness and love, a scene so rare and impossible in your life where finally, not only have you found love, but love has found you. The happy and giddy sensation of your heart beating rapidly against your chest burned through your skull and through your heart, a feeling you’ve experienced so much yet so little.

Lost in a sea of familiar despair, you didn’t noticed anything as you stared into something brown and beautiful and of deep and beautiful color, suddenly moving closer towards you, losing the life out of it as the gap ceased to exist; Baekhyun was the first to move.

The pulsation of your heart against your ribs grew weaker, as if the the soul within your frail body was sucked out. Each step he took, though unnoticed by your brain but recognized by your body, made each breath you took shorter and shallower, a slow buzzing of what seemed like electric went trough your silent brain, and for once, your mind was empty and clueless as your eyes merely watched his movements, consciousness unable to register what was happening.

It only occurred to you the moment your cold hands found warmth in the hands of another, his body closer to yours as you continued to gaze at him, the tears you once thought were unstoppable never came, your body stood still as the time passed.

His hand took place on your cheek, caressing it as he stared into your blank eyes, the windows to his soul were as empty and as dead as yours. His hand was surprisingly cold when they touched the skin of your delicate cheek, you wondered how you found warmth in them a moment ago, then you’ve remembered it all; the play that never seems to end.

“You are my future.”

Meaningless words fell from his lips, rolled off his tongue so casually, so blandly, so lifelessly. The feelings once so raw and evident now gone  as the time of realization has hit the both of you that the damage was done, and repair was not an option.

Baekhyun. Baekhyun, you remembered, you noticed, fully aware of the small gap, his hand on your cheek, and the part of the script he said. You remembered the way he said them on your last show, so believable and full of emotions, he was sucked into the play and lived a part of his character took place within him… maybe more than a part as you noticed the similarities between them, almost as if Baekhyun relived his own character in the real world, hurting those who loved him and those he loved, you being in only one of those categories.

And you’re still staring into his brown eyes, the bright lights reflecting against them as they gazed upon you, hand still holding your cheek, softly moving his thumb across the smooth and delicate skin. You saw the hesitation in Baekhyun’s eyes, the way he partly opened his mouth and closed it, rethinking as his eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly that no one could have noticed except you; you who studied the beauty of his face, the angles of his body, the expanse of his skin your hands, eyes, and lips have met.

For a second, when your own teary eyes cleared, you recognized the familiar reflection of sadness in his eyes, and your heart hardened at the sight of it.

How could he be the one hurt in this situation when it was you being played? How could he have not realized that you were not just some puppet in his play or a character in his fantasy? How could he have not seen the pain he inflicted on you? How could he have not felt the small wet spots you left on his pillow before you left early morning? How could he have not noticed? How could he have been so blind? How could he have not cared at all?

The one thing that revolved around your head were questions, along with them came the memories of a not so long ago past of a some sort of terrible life. A life spent in a dolorous cycle filled with lies, more lies, and little to no truths (truth that came in the form of glimpses of Baekhyun’s unloyalty).

His apathetic and wavering heart would not accept your one, despite devoting yourself entirely to him. For sure, you knew, but maybe, you wanted to say, you’ve been too dependent on him, hoping to be the one leaning on his shoulder to cry, but at the end, there’ll always be an empty side of the bed the morning after, blanket cold, lacking of touch and warmth.

“I choose you.”

And the scripted tears turn out to be unscripted, and the proof that you were weak and vulnerable was evident as the scene continued, as Baekhyun continued to play with your heart, pulling at its strings with his fingers.

His hand still rested by your cheek, the touch now numbing. A tear, one single tear, fell, hitting his hand, sliding down from your cheek to his skin, a soft yet strong reminder of the pain he’s inflicted, the festering problem that grew from his arrogance and your ignorance.

But you’ve had enough of it, this was the end of it.

Before you could even think about fear, shame, guilt, or regret, your eyes met his, soul to soul, eye to eye. The burning furnace of your anger was obvious, you saw it in the way Baekhyun’s hand dropped from your cheek to his side, the way his eyes showed his slight submission. You were about to say it all, to relieve yourself of the heartache, and expose and leave him bare, but the loud echo of the director drowned your thoughts and bravery away before you had the chance to pounce.

“What’s wrong with you two? Where are my lovers that the audience loves? We can’t be called a romantic play if the romance doesn’t look real! Fix this right now before the second rehearsal begins,” you heard through the speakers surrounding the stage, lights suddenly coming to life, and the world seemed so much more smaller and unforgiving as you saw the people backstage and those seated in the audience; the world was once moving, moving too fast for you to catch up.

People were moving quickly, never stopping, flooding the stage that now seemed to be a busy street where you and Baekhyun remained unmoving, untouched. His eyes were focused on the ground, lost to the unkempt rhythm of footsteps and chatter, his hands remain by his side, chest rising and falling slowly. You remained as you were, immersed in some type of unhappiness and despondency, eyes fixated everywhere yet nowhere. Your feet were stuck to the ground, but your soul felt like it was floating above your drained body, wondering and adrift.

Like the Red Sea, the crowd spilt apart, and instead of your salvation came your curse. Amorous as ever, red as rose high heels clicking as they met the ground, hands and hips swaying with a confidence you’ve lost long ago, Nana came strutting towards you and Baekhyun, eyes filled with predatory instincts as she saw the proximity of you both, quickly making her way to intercept and cause a greater storm.

“Babe! What are you still doing here? It’s break time, Jaehyung’s finally taking a rest. Let’s go before we miss the chance to catch up,” she flirted, coquetry apparent in her voice, moving her body closer to his, her chest on his back as her hands snaked around his hips, hugging Baekhyun in front of you, resting her head on his neck, placing sultry kisses on the sensitive fair skin of his, the same one you used to kiss, caress, and adore.

Baekhyun kept silent, seemingly even more lost and dead than when you first saw him today, but something in his eyes flashed like a burning wildfire, he came alive, standing upright, taking her wrist in his hand.

And that was your queue to leave, and like the swift harsh winds that billowed outside, you moved past Baekhyun and Nana, leaving them to their devices. The last thing you remembered was the sinful smirk on Nana’s lips as your shoulder briefly pushed against hers, Nana’s hand caress the toned muscle of Baekhyun’s chest.

The next few moments were wiped away from your memory like a breeze. You remembered the sensation of weakness on your knees, shaking as you walked back to your dressing room. It wasn’t until you heard the familiar sound of the door slamming shut that you let the tears fall, droplet by droplet till it turned into a continuous shower of regret and woe.

The truth, the terrible truth I’ll tell you right now, is that Baekhyun is engraved in your dizzy heart, the one and only keeper of the key to your heart, and for him, you would risk it all because of the fate and destiny your heart decided was to be Baekhyun’s.

You remembered how suddenly his pale colors disappeared by the red flush of blood when Nana arrived, the way he allowed her hands to linger around his body sensually, the strong grip he had on her thin and delicate wrist, allowing her to continue her slow but deadly attack on his neck.

A sweet and familiar voice resounded through your dressing room, door opening slowly, revealing the face of a handsome, young man. “Y/N, I thought I’d come by to surprise you,” Junmyeon said, his honey-like voice filling you in with some unusual gloominess as he entered, leaving the door slightly ajar. His hands immediately rested on your shoulder as he stared at your face through the help of the wide mirror. You were sat down on a tall director’s chair, Junmyeon right behind you, you two would have been mistaken for a beautiful couple. You wondered if your eyes were still red, if he would notice-

“Why are you crying?”

Unfortunately, silence answered him, but Junmyeon already knew the answer. In an instant, he moved to your front and hugged you, holding onto you like you could just slip from his grasp right then and there (truthfully, you would have). He patted down your hair, cooing you as you continued weeping, soft and short whimpers coming out every time Junmyeon would mention something sweet.

“Why don’t I take you home, Y/N? I think we can call it a day,” Junmyeon offered, hoisting you up and out of the chair. He became your strength and balance at times like this when you were at your weakest and most vulnerable. Quite literally, he too became that as he helped you stand and walk, your knees still shaking from anxiety and grief. You wish you listened well when they said love hurts, you wish you could be blithe and free, to be aware and immune to Baekhyun’s cajolement and persuasion… then finally, as if for the first time, you noticed Junmyeon, the sweet and loving man who was meant to be nothing more than a one night stand, yet here he is, holding your arm as he walked you down the narrow halls of the theatre and out to the parking lot, holding out an umbrella as he sat you down on the seat beside the driver’s seat, gently helping you in before getting to his side of the car and out and away from the theatre.

Junmyeon played a few calming songs on the stereo as he drove, nothing too sad or too upbeat. He didn’t say a word, allowing you to rest your way beyond tired mind and heart. You watched him as he drove down the not so busy streets of the city, marveling at how perfect each line and curve of his was, wanting to press yourself against his body, relieve yourself from this pain, losing yourself to man like Junmyeon, so sweet, so kind, yet so manly, so strong.

You would be lying if you said he didn’t impress you. The sharp line of his jaw and cheekbones made you want to leave wet trails of kisses on them; his neck, showing off their veins, made you want to leave red love bite marks and bruises on them; his hands, the glorious masterpiece that could be the start to your end, made you want to hold them.

It didn’t take long till you arrived at your home. When the car was finally parked, and Junmyeon moved out of his seat, you’re released from this lustful spell. He made sure to get out of the car first to help you out, holding your arm until you got inside your home safely. He didn’t let go until you were laid down on your comforting bed, the cold mattress quickly absorbing your heat, reminding you of a few things you wish you couldn’t understand, you couldn’t remembered, you couldn’t feel.

You turned to Junmyeon, grabbing his hand. The shock on his face was readable as he looked down at your intertwined hands. You could see some sort of expectancy in his eyes, the well known look of a fire right before it ignites into a beautiful wild flame. “Yes, Y/N?”

“I’d like some alone time please, Junmyeon.” You watched as the flame died down, and his skin was drained from color. He took his hand away from your grasp, briefly nodding before exiting with a solemn smile. Right before he closed your bedroom door, without glancing back, he said in a solemn tone, “I’m always here when you need me.”

Then he was gone and so was the only source of warmth in this room, and once again, as always, either by independent choice or by coldhearted fate, you were alone.

Alone to think, to lose your head in a spiral of regrets, missed opportunities, and failures. You spun down and down, deeper and deeper into the endless abyss your mind trapped you in.

You wished you were stronger.

You wished that, at the start, you had confessed to him, confessed to Baekhyun, to tell him how your world now revolved around him, to tell him how fast your heart beats around him, to tell him how much you love to be around him.

Yet you wished that you cried less for him, that you moved on faster than him, that you could do better without him, maybe better with Junmyeon.

But if Baekhyun was gone, life would no longer be life, losing its essence to some lost cause that would lead you nowhere near the answer you’ve been searching for.

You laid your head down on the soft plush pillows, resting on your side, looking out the window, watching the storm grow stronger.

Strength… how funny you’ve called Baekhyun that when he was the one who introduced you to your greatest fear, one you were living with: losing him.

Radio City Lover

The lights go down in Radio City, but a buzz of excitement is still very much present within the crowd. You look around proudly, watching girls swoon left and right over the man you had the privilege to lay with each night. 

Intent on making it back to Harry, you weave your way through the crowd, sunglasses never leaving your face. And although you were certain many had discovered your secret identity rather quickly, they simply smile and wave, some snapping a pic or two. 

When you finally make it backstage, Harry is already changed into his classic jeans and white tee look, skin still glistening with sweat. He sits on a love seat, laughing at something on his phone. 

“Well ‘ello darlin’,” he utters. “Where ‘ave ya been?” 

“Balcony,” you take a seat next to him, kissing his sweaty hairline. “Wanted to watch my man rock Radio City.” 

Harry nods, pulling you onto his lap. You take his fingers in your mouth and suck on two of them lightly. 

“An’ how did I do?” he smirks, looking you dead in the eye. “Did I rock it?” 

You simply place an open mouthed kiss on his jaw, nodding. 

“Fucking crushed it,” you assure him. “You made Radio City your bitch tonight.” 

A low groan arises in his throat, and you can feel his cock twitch underneath you. There it is, you think to yourself, the praise boner. The hardness that your self-proclaimed narcissist boyfriend sports whenever you tell him what a good job he’s done. 

“Tell me more,” he whispers, despite the fact that it was just you two in his dressing room. “You know jus’ how to get me goin’, sweet girl.” 

“So good,” you assure him, lips attached to his neck. “So fucking good, Harry. The way you just control the stage, command everyone’s attention, and you’re just so - yourself - it’s fucking beautiful.” 

Harry shifts so he’s slightly hovering above you, his forehead pressed against yours. His eyes are glowing with post-show happiness, but there’s a darkness to them as well. 

“You like watchin’ me?” he asks, his hard center grinding into your thigh. “You like watchin’ my shows? Does it get you fuckin’ wet?” 

Inhaling deeply, you connect your lips to his in an aggressive kiss. Your tongues are practically wrestling, Harry’s strong hand gripping your jaw as your mind scrambles to come up with a filthy response. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you as the two of you are making out on the love seat like insatiable teenagers. Unable to stay away from each other. 

“Well I suppose you should find out for yourself,” you guide his hand between your thighs, mentally high-fiving yourself for wearing a dress. “Touch me, Harry. It’s what I’ve wanted all day and night. You haven’t properly fucked me in so long.” 

His left handed grip on your jaw tightens, slowly dropping a bit of spit into your open mouth before his right hand moves down to your panties, dipping in. He rubs between your slit, feeling the wetness before planting two fingers on your clit, circling. 

“You’re fuckin’ soaked,” he observes, voice husky with desire. “All fo’ me. Tell me, baby, how much it turns you on to watch me.” 

“Harry,” you let out a breathy sigh as he inserts a single finger into you, curling up slowly. “Fuck. You know what made me this wet?” 

“Fuckin’ tell me.” 

“It just makes me so fucking hot,” you speak around his kisses. “Watching you. Watching you, knowing nearly every single person in that crowd would do anything to fuck you. But I’m the only one who gets to be fucked by you at the end of the day. Not them. Just. Me.” 

He quickly adds a second finger, pumping in and out at a faster pace than before. 

“Bloody ‘ell,” your boyfriend groans. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know tha’?” 

You simply nod, reaching for his belt and undoing his pants, freeing his hard cock. He gives himself a few pumps before lining up at your entrance, mouth feverishly on yours. 

“Gonna fuck you now,” he whispers. “Real hard ‘n good. You wan’ tha’, love?” 

He takes your nod and desperate whine as all the consent he needs, pushing himself in slowly, allowing himself to settle momentarily before resuming thrusts. 

“Come on,” you beg, hands wrapped in his sweaty locks. “More.” 

Harry obliges, thrusting deeper and harder than before, his eyes never leaving your face. He always wants to see you unravel, watching your expression intensely as you cry out from the pleasure his cock is bringing you. 

“You’re close,” he observes when you begin clenching around his cock. “Come on darlin’, you goin’ t’ come all over my cock? Let me see.” 

When his fingertips meet your clit, you lose it, your orgasm crashing over you intensely. Eyes clenching shut, legs thrashing, nails clawing down Harry’s clothed back. 

“Good girl,” he soothes you through your climax. “All fo’ fuckin’ me. I love it.” 

Within a minute, Harry is following suit, releasing inside of you with a whimper and a whine. Afterwards, he collapses on top of your recovering body, kissing your lips tenderly. You smile against his skin, content within the moment. 

“So,” he breaks the silence. “We should probably get out there. Record execs an’ such are here.” 

You pull your panties up, wiggling out from under your limp-bodied boyfriend. He straightens himself out as well, preparing to go face others. 

“I love you,” you smile just as you two are heading out the door. “And I’m proud. So, so damn proud of you. You’re brilliant. I can’t believe you’re mine.” 

“Oh shut up,” he laughs, kissing your hairline. “Or I’ll have to fuck you again, my love.” 


He simply shakes his head with laughter, grabbing your hand and pulling you out to the crowd of eager executives, ready to tell him yet again how great he is. But it’s never the same as when it comes from you. 

Hot And Bothered

In which post-concert Harry is being a horny little shit and you have to deal with it all night.

A/N: Hello once again, my fellow thirsty Harry girls!  Sooo a backstory to this: I was at the OTRA Baltimore concert Saturday (Yep. I had to watch Drag Me Down live.  I had to hear Harry’s voice in the end with my own ears.).  How am I still alive, you ask?  Well, I’m barely hanging on to my life.  The post concert depression hasn’t gone away and basically all I want to do is lay on my couch and cry because GOD I LOVE HARRY SO MUCH. So, as a result, I wrote this to maybe quench my thirst (but in reality it just made it so much worse).  Hope you enjoy!

Stay thirsty, my friends. x

Keep reading

9 Reasons Why I Ship Falcon Song (aka Li Chang Ge x Ashina Sun From Chang Ge Xing)

Or, rambles on an awesome OTP from an inexplicably small fandom that deserves way more love. (seriously, where are all you lovely international fans at?)

Warning: Great Wall Of Text ahead. Also contains spoilers up to Chapter 58.1

1. They mutually respect and value each other’s abilities

Sun recognizes Chang Ge first and foremost by her abilities, regardless of her title or appearance. He’s a war veteran who first rode into battle at the age of 9. But even before they meet, he acknowledges the opposing Han strategist Li Chang Ge’s military tactics:

“Tch! So they blocked off the river with a dam and made it look like it dried up, and used smoke signals to release the water.”

“Interesting. As expected of Gong Sun Heng.”

After he falls into a trap set by Chang Ge, he is even more impressed:

“It was such a dirty tactic, but it was well worth the fight.”

Enough to ask Mu Jin to “Get some info on this Captain Li” and to “leave that Captain Li alive.” 

When they do meet, Sun finds that his opponent all along “was a scrawny little female-looking guy”. But that doesn’t stop him from making her his military advisor, and very quickly including her into his inner circle. And what happens when he finds out that she’s a woman? Nothing different, really. Mr. Ahead of His Times (remember, this is ancient China we’re talking about) continues to value her opinions, trust her with important matters, and basically treat her as an equal.

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“I can’t believe you’ve done this.” Mike shook his head.

“I’m already ten minutes late to my meeting, but I feel like this is going to be totally worth it.” Harry leered.

What they were referring to, was the fact that I hadn’t told Louis about the fact I knew he had a girlfriend.
Why you ask? The reasons are threefold.
1. I was being dramatic. I needed a blowout.
2. I needed to see his face drop.
3. I had also needed those two days to calm down.

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I did an otp question meme thing for Etta/Diana. Be warned: I’m basing this all off the movie, which I’ve only seen once. I might be iffy on characterization or speech patterns. Also, I rambled.

Who is the big spoon/little spoon?
Diana likes both, but Etta definitely prefers being the little spoon. The first time Diana tucked an arm around her in bed, Etta’s eyes got really wide and her breath caught, because while she’s a fierce, determined (and previously single) woman in her mid-40’s, she yearns for cuddles. Especially cuddles from tall, beautiful, badass women.

Favourite non-sexual activity?
After a number of truly disastrous dates, Etta finally loosens up about trying to corral Diana in public and just lets her be, and finds she enjoys going out and just exploring the city together. They do a lot of traveling, too, to wherever Diana is needed, and even though Etta makes a lot of frowny and/or exasperated and/or frantic faces over trying to be the more organized and responsible of the two during their adventures (you can’t just show up in another country and start winning people’s wars or solving crisis’s, Diana, there’s plenty else that’s got to be considered like food and lodging and not creating an international incident) she loves getting involved and making a difference.

Who uses all the hot water?
Diana, because it occasionally escapes her notice that she’s no longer in paradise, and she does have a very subtle spoiled streak (bloody princess); but Diana goes out of her way to make sure Etta gets to have relaxing baths and other self-indulgent activities, so it evens out in the end.

The most trivial thing they fight over?
Diana feels that Etta clings far to closely to social rules that make no sense (why shouldn’t I hold your hand in public? I was told this is to show others we are together) and Etta thinks Diana takes safety for granted. The issues are actually not trivial at all, but each thinks it is.  

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Zach Dempsey Imagine-

Prompt:  If you’re busy you can do this later, but I was hoping if you can make a Zach Dempsey imagine based off the song “Same to you” by The Vamps?? Thank you in advance!! Love your imagines btw!!! 💕💕❤❤

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,999

A/N: Sorry this is like super angsty and probably the worst thing I have ever written. Like, I don’t know why I wrote it like that. But I hope you like it nonetheless! Thank you for the request anon!

Originally posted by alltimewolf

I know you can’t sleep, it’s half three, and you’re still up
Get on the group text about your ex
‘Cause I messed it up
Heard you moved on, well that’s a lie

You sigh, looking out the window to see the light polluted stars fill the sky. You turn on your side to try to keep from getting captivated by that night. The night Zach Dempsey claimed you as his by just a look. You hated thinking about him like this, you hated seeing your friend and missing their touch. You shake your head, trying to clear your head. How dare he make you think like this, the way he taunts you without being next to you, leaving you a mess in every way. You get on your phone, pulling open the messages as you try to think back to your ex. The boy who was supposed to melt your heart in every way, but couldn’t because of your mistake. ‘I miss him.’ You send in the text. ‘He loved me and I lost him’ you send after. ‘Sorry, who are we talking about? Justin or Zach?’ One of your friends send, regret filling your mind as you read the names next to each other. ‘Justin. It was always Justin’ you send. ‘Until you moved on’ one pointed out. ‘Did I?’ you send, a sigh leaving your lips as you turn off your phone. 

It’s half past three and you can’t sleep with the thoughts of him dancing in your mind. The way his hand felt in yours, the way he gently ran his thumb over your knuckles like everything would be okay. His hold, the way his hugs were tight to make you feel less alone. His lips on yours, how eager but gentle it all felt. He played with your heart in all the senses and you couldn’t let go of that boy. You finally fall asleep, images of him playing through your head like they were a movie playing on a screen. Vivid and alive.

Leaving you wishing you had him that night.

Make you feel free
Open your eyes and you will see
All of the awkward situations
Holding his hand you wish was mine


You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips as you saw him. “Hey Dempsey” you say, gently bumping into him to catch his attention. “Hey (Y/L/N)” he smiled at you. You bite your lip gently as you look at him. “You know I hate when you do that” you say. “Do what?” he smiles. “Use my last name to say hello, like Dempsey works, but my last name? Not as much” you say. He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re crazy” he chuckles. “You’ll always be (Y/L/N) to me.” he teases with a smile. You roll your eyes playfully. “Wow, I’m swooning” you tease. 

He chuckles and you can’t help but smile at it. He always hid the way he laughed, looking down and acting shy about it. You would lie if you said you didn’t love it. You were about to say something when you felt a hand hold yours, startling you a bit as you look over to see the boy who should have filled your head. “Hey babe” Justin smiles, kissing your cheek. “Oh, hey babe” you smile back. He smiles and you watch as Zach bites his lip, looking at the two of you. “Dempsey” Justin said quietly, looking at him. “Justin” he says back, forcing a smile. “Well, I was actually just about to go, but I’ll see you around” he says, looking at you.

You bite your lip as you nod and watch him go. He walks past you, accidently brushing your hand as he does. You felt some chills run down you as it did, and in that moment you imagine Justin’s hand was his. Justin had a firm hold on you, it was soft and didn’t leave you missing his touch every time he left. Zach however, he sent butterflies in your stomach with one look, and a simple touch just made it all explode in you. 

You look at Justin, and watch as he smiles at you. The familiar look of love in his eyes, the look he always wished he got from you. You smile gently and kiss him gently, trying to let that be enough for that moment. It was never enough.

Don’t have to be heavy, but you can’t pretend we can stay friends
Every street sign I drive by, it takes me back
Right to the bedroom, your perfume, little black dress 
You say you love me while your hands wrapped 'round my neck. Do you miss me yet?

‘Ready to talk?’

That was the text he sent every other day. Trying to act like your life wasn’t altered by the way things happened that night. It was a normal party, drunk teenagers dancing together acting like being young and careless was the only way to life. You had just gotten in a fight with Justin. He had gotten jealous over the mutual friend you wanted to call yours. You fought that he had never meant that way to you, but you knew you were lying. 

You loved Justin. That was a true statement. You wanted the best for him and you wanted to help him know that he could have a better home, a life where he was happy. But you couldn’t give him that life, not with Zach around. Justin knew this, and he hated Zach for it. You hated Zach for it, but you knew Justin deserved better.

Following the fight you went and got drunk. You made sure that you had your best dress on that night, letting it help you feel sexier. You stayed at the drink table and let the alcohol take over. It made you forget what made you lie. It made you forget that mistakes could still be made on nights like tonight. It made you forget what made you wish Justin was yours. 

‘I know you miss me’

He sends, knowing it makes you think back to that night. The black dress did you more justice than you expected. You joined a game of seven minutes of heaven, and somehow ended with Zach. The kiss that was supposed to be subtle, became passion. His hands trailing your body, working its way up your thighs. All of it came to memory. His lips never left your body, trailing down your neck as he whispered sweet nothings he couldn’t keep to himself. You melted in front of him, not caring what damage this would bring to your previous relationship. 

You let him take you home after that. You told him the house was empty and invited him in and the night wasn’t filled with sleep. He captured you in many ways. The cuddles, the talking, the way he played with your hair because he knew you loved it. They way he moved your bodies together. It was everything to have him there.

You admitted you loved him that night, that you made a mistake going for his best friend and you only wanted him. He admitted it too, and for the first time in a long time you believed him. You believed those three empty words that held so much meaning. 

But then came the storm.

Justin came in to surprise you with a date, but in reality you figured he needed someone to talk to. He saw you two, laying in bed cuddling, talking about a future that couldn’t come true. 

Justin was yelling, maybe even crying as he told you that he knew it was true. That he was never anything but a game to you, and it hurt to hear him say that. Zach tried to fight back, trying to protect you or maybe just trying to Justin that it was fine. Either way you knew it wasn’t fine. 

That memory was always ruined by the end and you knew you deserved it to be, and it almost made you miss Zach less.

Now I can’t sleep, it’s past three, and I’m still up
Got on the group text about my ex
'Cause you messed me up
You heard I moved on, well that’s a lie
Well that’s a lie
Does it feel the same to you?

You and Zach tried to maintain a relationship, but the guilt took over the love in it. You wished it could have been different, maybe a simple no would have changed everything but you didn’t know.

You stayed together for about 2 months before you finally ended it. You couldn’t see him and not regret the pain Justin was in when he left. However, Zach is persistent and texts you every day to tell you he misses you and asks you if you miss him too. 

That is until there was another girl with his arm around her waist.

You walked into school one day, looking around like you always do for one of your friends. When you looked over at the set of lockers that you and Zach used to always talk at, you found a blonde girl you knew as a cheerleader. You thought it was odd that she was in your meeting place for Zach and basically all your friends, but it didn’t take long to figure out why she was there.

You watched as Zach walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her gently and making her laugh. Your heart broke at the sight. He smiled the way he use to smile at you, and you watched his lips form the words ‘I love you’

Betrayal was the first thing you felt, but soon regret filled after. You didn’t even realize your eyes were filling with tears until he looked at you and concerned crossed his face. You quickly ran to the bathroom to clean yourself up and you texted your friends to meet you there.

You loved Zach, you really loved him and you can’t believe you let him go. Now he was happy with another girl, and you were still  alone. 

You decided to go home after that, losing the energy to be around people that day. You felt ridiculous for being so sad, but your first love just broke your heart and you weren’t sure how to cope with it.

You laid in bed, watching whatever Netflix had to offer and you couldn’t find a good time to sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, images of him filled your mind and that night they weren’t as welcoming as before. 

It was about three in the morning when your phone lit up with a text. It was from Zach.

‘You may not believe this, but I still miss you. I miss the way you look at me and the smile that always formed. I miss the way your eyes lit up at something you loved. I miss the way your hand held mine, and the way you formed into me when we cuddled. I miss you. And I know you don’t think I do, and I know you feel I moved on to someone new but the problem is that isn’t true. You fill my every thought, and I always hope that one day I will go to the lockers and find you. But every day I waited for you to text back, to give me a sign in anyway, I always got a blank. I miss you. I still love you. But I had to move on, or at least try to and I’m sorry for that. But I need to ask you one thing.’

He sends, making you feel the weight of his words become heavier by the second. Your heart was racing at what he would say next. ‘What is it?’ you send, biting your lip to refrain the tears that were starting to set.

‘Did it feel the same to you?’

When The Last Petal Falls.

Originally posted by bangtanroyalty

Requested – No.

Prompt – Soulmate AU.

Warning – Sort of angst, a hint of fluff.

Words – 1.6k.


“Has it ever occurred to you how important it is to find your soulmate now, (Y/N)?” Your mom lectures as you roll your eyes continuing to play with your food that was right in front of you.

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