Under the Table Favours

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Word Count: 2k


Originally posted by sensualkisses

Hogsmeade was quiet this afternoon, an ideal spot to squeeze in a bit of study with your best friend. You had secured a booth in the back of The Three Broomsticks, where you knew no one would bother you. Remus gave you a light smile as he placed down the two large mugs of hot cocoa, overflowing with already-melting marshmallows.

“Look who’s here.” You pointed out Sirius and James as they shared some Butterbeer together by the window. You took a long sip from the delicious drink as you watched Remus wave to his friends, you doing the same.

Remus turned back to face you, his smile widening as he let out an amused chortle.

“What?” You frowned. “Something on my face?” You wiped around your mouth, just barely missing the marshmallow fluff that had stuck to your upper lip.

“Here.” Remus said, easily snatching up the contents with his thumb. He held it out for you, and watched as you put your mouth over his finger. Remus’ heart began to hammer in his chest at the sight; your lips perfectly puckered around his thumb, humming contently as you sucked the morsel from his skin. His breath hitched as your eyes fluttered back open, leaving him with your sweet smile and a wettened thumb.

“Thanks.” You grinned innocently, lifting your mug back up to your lips. You quickly finished the warm beverage, already standing to get another. “I’ll be back.”

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Bad Girls Get Punished

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Smut, nsfw, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, use of toys, dom / sub, punishment, slight bondage, unprotected sex 

Word Count: 1400

Summary: Bucky punishes you after you’ve been a bad girl 

I sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but my matching black lace bra and panties, hands tucked under my thighs like commanded. The cool air in the bedroom was tickling my bare skin, causing a shiver to roll down my spine, goosebumps rising over my arms and legs. I had been sitting here waiting for twenty minutes and the anticipation of what was coming was making it hard to sit still. My arousal already pooling hot in the pit of my belly.

I closed my eyes and bit hard on my bottom lip, taking a long breath as I pictured Bucky’s face clearly in my mind. We’d been at the club, drinking, celebrating. And maybe I’d pushed his buttons by looking at Pietro a little too fondly, and maybe Pietro’s hands had wandered a little too low while we were dancing; whatever it was though Bucky had passed jealous within seconds and arrived furious. He tugged me back against his chest and away from Pietro’s sticky fingers, making sure I felt the press of his erection along the crease of my ass as he whispered heavily in my ear that I was going to pay for it later. Honestly, that had been the exact reaction I’d been hoping for. 

I moaned quietly, clenching my thighs together as I imagined what he might be doing later. Bucky never kept punishments the same, he mixed it up so I never knew what to expect, so I never knew what was coming.

“What are you thinking about?”

My eyes popped open as Bucky’s voice broke my train of thought, the breath catching in my throat as I watched him walk towards me, only dressed in his dark jeans from earlier, the hard planes of his chest illuminated in the soft light in the bedroom. Suddenly remembering what he’d asked I shook my head quickly.
“Nothing,” I stammered out. Bucky clicked his tongue, shaking one of his metal fingers at me.
“Nothing?” He repeated. “Are you sure you weren’t thinking about Pietro’s hands all over you?”

I shook my head again, wetting my lips with my tongue.
“N - no, I wasn’t thinking of him.”
“Good girl.”

Bucky knelt in front of me, tracing each of his hands up the fronts of my legs until he reached my knees, the corners of his lips picking up into a smirk as he pulled them apart. I inhaled sharply through my nose as he lent forward between my legs, pulling out a wooden box from under the bed.

Bucky rifled through it for a second before looking up at me, nodding towards the top of the bed.

“Go and lie down, hands above your head.”
I did so without question, getting myself comfortable on the pillows before lifting my arms up, my eyes staying on Bucky as he lent over me, his breath ghosting over my face as he secured my wrists to the headboard with the silk scarves he had hold of. I tested them as soon as he was finished; they were tight but not enough that it was cutting any circulation off.

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First Heartbreak

Originally posted by usedpimpa

Requested by anonymous: An imagine about Aaliyah gets her heartbroken and Shawn’s being the big protective brother?? And it’s fluffy and cute! Thank you!! 😍💝 and im in the imagine too! LOLOLOL 😊

Note: don’t like, don’t read - it’s that simple :)


Ever since you began dating Shawn, Aaliyah had automatically taken a liking to you.

She was excited for there to be another girl around, besides her mother or her best friends. Aaliyah looked up to you as a big sister, almost - always asking you for advice.

Whether it be about clothes; school; friends; sports; boys - Aaliyah always wanted to talk to you about something. It actually got to the point where Shawn had accused you of stealing his sister, jokingly, of course.

Lately, though, there was one topic that girl could not stop talking about: boys.

According to her, his name was Ben and he was the most perfect thing to walk the earth. Aaliyah’s words - not yours.

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Another one for @eatmyarse! Here’s your Elorcan prompt. It kind of just ran away with me and turned out way longer than I initially planned. Hope you like it! Also tagging @wherewildflowersprosper because I think you’ll enjoy this.

Elorcan: I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention

Shhhhoooosh. Shhhhoooosh. Shhhhoooosh. 

The sound of Lorcan running his whetstone down the length of his weapons was grating on Elide’s nerves. He’d already cleaned and sharpened two of his daggers, his short sword and three knives, and was now working at his long sword. Elide knew he was doing it to work off his frustrations. They had come for a day visit to Orynth and they had planned to leave just after lunch so that they could be back in Perranth by nightfall. But a vicious storm had descended and had prevented them from leaving. The storm still raged outside and Elide listened to the sound of the rain hitting the window. Then that pleasant sound was interrupted. 

Shhhhoooosh. Shhhhoooosh. Shhhhoooosh. 

Elide had had enough. From where she sat on the couch that they shared Elide stretched out her good ankle and poked Lorcan’s thigh. He did nothing except run the whetstone down the length of his sword again. Elide shuffled a little lower on the couch and poked him again. Once again no reaction. Next she poked him in the side, that got a flinch but nothing more. So she kept going. When she practically jabbed Lorcan in the ribs he turned to her. 

“Elide I’m busy,” Lorcan said. She could still hear the simmering anger in his voice. He hated being in Orynth, especially unexpectedly. “Can’t you see what I’m doing? I could hurt myself if you don’t stop it.” 

“Well that’s got to be one of the biggest lies I’ve ever heard,” Elide knew how sure his hands were. 

She watched as he lifted the whetstone again and before it could meet his sword she poked him in the side again. The look he gave her would have sent the bravest men running. 

“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” 


Lorcan did that one without looking. 

“I get it Lorcan. You don’t want to be here, but until the storm passes we’re stuck here,” Elide said as she sat up. 

Shhhhooosh. Shhhhooosh. 

Elide stood letting out an exasperated noise. 

“Where are you going?” Lorcan asked as Elide reached the the door. 

“I’m not sleeping in this,” Elide indicated to her simple but nice day dress and left the room without another word.


Elide knocked on the door to the private chambers of the Queen and King. It was still fairly early so she hoped that she wouldn’t be intruding. After a few moments Aelin appeared in a cosy but decorative dressing gown with a book in her hand. 

“Elide,” she said with a smile, “what can I do for you?” 

“I was wondering if you could lend me something to sleep in? I didn’t bring anything.” As Elide explain her predicament a wicked smile appeared on Aelin’s face and she moved out of the way so that Elide could come in. 

“Come with me,” Aelin said as she led the way to her sleeping chambers.

Elide felt a little awkward entering Aelin’s and Rowan’s private rooms but neither of them seemed to care in the slightest. Rowan was seated by the fire polishing one of his own knives and when he saw Elide following his wife he gave her a small smile and a nod.

“Seems the evening for it,” Elide said and Aelin turned to give her a questioning look. “For weapon cleaning. It’s been all Lorcan has done since dinner.” 

Aelin’s smile only turned more wicked. Elide didn’t even know that was possible. They had stopped before Aelin’s walk in wardrobe and the Queen disappeared inside. 

“How much a cranky old fae was Lorcan when he realised he had to stay?” Aelin called from inside. 

“About as cranky as you can imagine,” Elide replied as she heard some rummaging going on. 

“Does Lorcan have a preferred colour?” Aelin asked and Elide was sure she heard Rowan laugh from the other room. 

“What…” Elide entered the walk in wardrobe and saw Aelin with an armful of silk and lace and Elide’a eyes went wide then she groaned. “Aelin.” 

“My immediate guess is black. Am I right?” Elide only nodded, she knew there would be no discouraging Aelin now. Aelin sifted through and discarded some of the brighter colours she had in her arms. Then Aelin held up an all black piece that was edged with black lace, gave it a look then dropped it on the floor. The next she showed Elide was a more modest option, still in black, and before Elide agree to it that one was discarded too. The last one Aelin presented was made of shiny black silk accented with silver lace and the back of it dipped down ridiculously low. Aelin offered to Elide but she gaped a little. 

“Aelin, are you sure? I would be fine with an old shirt or something.” Aelin didn’t budge and just continued to hold out the nightgown. “If that fits over yours there is no way that is going to fit over these,” Elide said as she first indicated to Aelin’s chest and then her own. 

“Oh course it will and it will make them look glorious,” Aelin threw the nightgown at Elide with one last smile. “And it’s yours. I don’t want it back.”


On the way back to her rooms Elide kept up a constant muttering, cursing the storm, cursing Lorcan and cursing Aelin. The nightgown that she had been given was ridiculous. And despite Aelin’s insistence, Elide was sure it wouldn’t fit. When Elide entered her rooms Lorcan was still sharpening his weapons and the sound only made her mood worse. Barely giving him a glance Elide stormed past him to the bathing room. 

Her curses continued as she stripped of, now mainly directed at Lorcan and his sullenness. Elide slipped the nightgown over her head and as it slid down her body it felt like liquid. The fabric was absolutely exquisite. As she knew it would, the nightgown caught at her breasts so she gave it a firm tug. 

“Damn it Aelin.” 

Aelin had been right. By some miraculous magic in the fabric the nightgown fit, and it fit wonderfully. The hem of it grazed her mid thigh and the fabric clung delicately to her body. Her back was bare and it plummeted dangerously low and the tightness across her chest had created, as Aelin put it, a glorious looking cleavage. Well if poking didn’t get Lorcan’s attention, maybe this would.


Lorcan didn’t mean to sullen and put out, he just hated staying at Orynth unexpectedly. He was not a social person, and everyone else was. And everyone else loved Elide and he would not deprive her of that affection. What he usually ended up doing was sitting somewhere off by himself while they all chatted and laughed. Sometimes Whitethorn would sit with him and they would chat quietly as he too could get overwhelmed by the… youngness of Terrasen’s court.


As he ran his whetstone down his sword again he heard the door of the bathing room open. He looked up to say something to Elide, to maybe apologise, he wasn’t entirely sure yet. But whatever words he was going to say died on his lips and he saw her standing there.

His jaw dropped.

His whetstone clattered on the floor.

Hellas damn him. He raked his eyes up her body, eyes lingering first on Elide’s bare legs, then he took in the dips and curves that were so obvious with the way the fabric clung to her body. Lorcan’s eyes then travelled up further and he swallowed. 

“My eyes are up here Lorcan.” Elide’s voice cut through his thoughts like one of the blades he had just sharpened.

Lorcan eyes darted quickly to Elide’s and her face completely unreadable. He couldn’t tell what she wanted. She started to walk towards him and all his attention was focused on her. Lorcan couldn’t help but watch the way her body moved in that black silk and the way the paleness of her skin contrasted against the darkness of it and enhanced… well everything. 

Elide stopped a little way away from him and she lent over to pick something off the floor. Every rational thought went out of Lorcan’s head and all he saw and thought of was Elide. If Elide noticed his reaction she didn’t let on. She only continued to stalk towards him and when she reached him Elide lent towards him and stopped mere inches away from his face.

“You dropped this.”

Elide put something in Lorcan’s hand. Whetstone. It was his whetstone. That he had dropped. Elide then poked him hard in the chest and gave him a mischievous smirk before she turned and now stalked towards the bed. Lorcan took in the back of the nightgown, which was hardly anything at all.

Elide had him wrapped around her little finger and she knew it. 

Lorcan was a dead man.

Play With Wolves

Brett x Reader x Liam

Requested by Anon

Warnings: Swearing, smutt, fingering, anal, sex, threesome

“So, she invited you to huh?” Brett asked as he caught up with Liam.

“Yeah, we’re friends and I’m pretty sure she has a crush on me why wouldn’t she ask me?” Liam snapped.

“Because she has a crush on me and might want to hook up.” Brett answered quickly.

They both continued to argue until they got to your house, you swung the door open and dived on them bath in a tight hug, before hurrying to drag them inside.

“You guys, I’ve been waiting for ages, my parents are gone for the weekend and they left money so we can get a take away and buy junk food and stuff!” You grinned at them both, running up to your room where you’d set up the movie.

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[Jealousy] Steve Rogers x reader

Request:  can i have a req reader and steve are dating, and they’re fighting because reader is jealous watching steve and sharon. then end up fluff? thankyouuu

Requested by anonymous

Warnings: Angst and fluff.

[Female Reader] 

Originally posted by buddyineedyou

You lent over the bar, drink in hand, scowling across the room  at her. Sharon Carter. She wasn’t a bad person, you didn’t hate her, you just disliked her if that makes sense. You sighed lost in your own thoughts and looked at the small amount of wine left in your glass as you swirled it around. 

You and Steve have been dating for a few months now but everyone thought he was with Sharon. He was almost always with her, hanging out or working. It made you wonder if they were more than just friends. The way he looked at her just pissed you off. Not that you would admit it but you were undeniably jealous. You hated how much time they spent together. 

You glanced over at her again. Steve was next to her of course, laughing and joking with her, while you sat there alone at the bar. You were at a party, Tony’s party to be more specific. Superheros like to have parties and get drink too. Especially Tony. The avengers were scatted around the room with a bunch of other people.

“Hey you might want to let go of that glass before you break,” the voice startled you as someone sat down beside you. It was just Sam, your best friend and your wingman (Yes that’s a pun) when it came to your relationship. “You’re glare is going to kill her any minute now if you continue,” He said with his usual cheeky smile. 

You let out a chuckle and looked down at your drink, “Yeah- I don’t mean to but- he spends so much time with her. Everyone even thinks that he’s dating her and not mean. I’m starting to think maybe he likes her better. “ You sighed and he noticed your sad expression. 

“[Y/N] you know thats not true, he’s in love with you, and you love him. Go talk to him, drag him outside if you have to. You can’t keep it bottled up, let him know how you feel. I could literally feel you’re jealously from across the room, i was scared you were going to slap me if i talked to you,” he joked and you rolled your eyes, mumbling that you weren’t jealous as you walked away and got ready to face Steve. He hadn’t talked to you all night, you had the right to be angry right ?

“Oh hey [Y/n] , how are -” You interrupted Sharon before she could finish her question, you didn’t come over to be friendly.Not that you were going to be friendly with the woman who had been flirting with your boyfriend all night.

“Sorry, I’m just going to borrow Steve considering he is my boyfriend and all” You stated ,sarcasm dripping from your words with a fake smile to go with it before you dragged Steve outside away from the party till you couldn’t hear the music anymore, leaving Sharon in shock. That sure told her. 

Steve stopped you as you entered an alley way beside the Bar, “What the hell [Y/n] What was that all about?!” He asked, anger evident in his voice ad he turned you round to face him. He furrowed his eyebrows, looking down at your shorter figure. 

“What am I not allowed to talk to my boyfriend now? Not that you even noticed me anyway. Nah you were to busy talking to your new girl Sharon huh? IT’s cool I don’t mind watching you have fun with her while I sit at the bar alone,” you roll your eyes and crossed your arms as you shifted your weight to one foot. 

“Are you serious [Y/n] ?! Are you actually insane- you pulled me away because you’re jealous? “ He laughed sarcastically, “You don’t see me getting jealous at you and Sam being together all the time do you? Sharon is a good friend. That’s all. “ He sighed. 

“Look I’m sorry but I’m not sure if I can believe that anymore. You hardly pay attention to me anymore I- and then whenever I see, she’s always with you, “ You say and hold back the tears.”I love you but do you even love me anymore? If you don’t then just tell me please i-” Steve cut you off by lifting your chin up and planting his lips on yours. Passionately kissing you. 

Steve backed you up against the wall of the building behind you his left hand resting on your hip his right one on your cheek. you wrapped your arms around his neck despite the height difference. 

 He pulled back and wiped the tears you didn’t even know were rolling down your cheeks, “I love you and only you. I didn’t know  I was doing this to you, I’m so sorry.’’

You smiled up at him, “I love you too Steve.” and kissed him one last time.

Bundle Of Joy - Part Three

Originally posted by bovaria

Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Parent!Reader
Summery: Reader invites Bucky in for a drink.
Warnings: None
Part OnePart Two

“So, you’re unmarried.”

It wasn’t a question, yet he had said it with slight hesitation. You hadn’t even noticed the way Bucky had been eyeing your ringless finger as the two of you walked down the empty street, your left hand only visible to him because you had wrapped it around your daughter, shifting her weight off of your chest. Now that he had mentioned it, you suddenly realized that up until this point he had no reason to think that you were a single parent.

“Yeah,” You murmured, your hand curling into a tight fist before you let it drop by your side. “Terribly modern of me, I know. No boyfriend either.”

“Nothing wrong with modern.” Bucky chuckled.

As the two of you turned the corner, your apartment building came into view. The plain, unpainted redbrick structure was connected to every other building on its side of the road, completely identical to those parallel. Craning your head back, you saw that the windows of your apartment were dark - just the way you had left them.
Bucky walked with you all the way to the front door.

“Well,” you started, unwrapping your arm from his, “this is me.”

Even with your daughter fastened against your chest, the cold night sent a violent shiver down your spine. With one hand you gripped your jacket closer to your body in a futile attempt to generate warmth, enveloping your sleeping daughter in the fabric.

“Would you like to come in and have a drink or something?” You asked Bucky, looking up at him with a hopeful smile. “You don’t have to, of course. It’s late and I completely understand if you don’t wanna - ”

“ - I’d love to.” Bucky accepted loudly as a car drove by, cutting you off from you rambling with a bright smile and a short laugh. Your stomach filled with butterflies as you gazed at him, your knees going weak as you felt your heart swell with joy. You could’ve stood there on the doormat until the sun rose above the city, just admiring him.

“Alright then,” You say, turning to the green painted door and pressing one of the five buzzers beside it - the one labeled Ms Vivian Chambers.

“Don’t you have a key?” Bucky asked you, his brow creasing in bewilderment.
You peered at him over your shoulder, taking a step back to look at the fourth set of windows above you.

“Lost them a little while go, but Viv doesn’t mind. I swear she’s nocturnal.”

Bucky didn’t have time to reply, because just as he parted his lips the lock clicked and you swung the old door open.

He followed close behind you as you entered, finding a seldom used staircase and no sign of an elevator upon entry. The place was gorgeous. Polished wood made up the stairs and rails and a red carpet matched the red with gold designed wallpaper.

“Coming?” You asked him from where you stood on the stairs, watching him as he took in his surroundings.

“Uh - yeah.” He said, jogging up the first few steps to catch up with you.

‘Keep quiet,” You hushed as the stairs creaked underneath him. “If Vivian finds you here, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Bucky chuckled. “I can’t remember the last time I did this.”

“Did what?” You asked, passing the first apartment door and up the second flight of stairs.

“Sneak pass snoopy neighbours with a pretty girl.”

You faltered on the steps as his words reached your ears.

“That’s cute.” You murmured, feeling your cheeks burn.

Once the two of you arrived at on the third landing, you walked straight up to the dark green door, took hold of the handle and kicked, the door reluctantly opening at you show of force. Then a shout came from up stairs.

“Is that you, (Y/N)?” Called down Vivian Chambers. “Who’s that you’ve got with you?”

Your hand fell from the doorknob, leaving it ajar, and you stepped to the side, lent over the railing and peered up at the older woman. “Hello, Viv!”

Vivian Chambers was much older than yourself, with bleached blonde hair that had been sprayed relentlessly until it stood on end in a 80s styled poof. She was tall - even without the killer heels she always wore - and had huge filled red lips. Her voice was scratchy (might have had something to do with how she always had a cigarette in hand) and oddly low. She grinned down at you, the corners of her eyes stretching with her expression. “Hello, dear.”

Licking your lips in hesitation, you looked back at Bucky, gesturing for him to come over. He clasped his right hand over his mouth to suppress his laugh and did as you instructed, relaxing his face before looking up at Vivian himself.


“Whoa!” Vivian exclaimed as soon as he came into her line of vision. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“This is Bucky.” You introduced. “He’s a friend.”

“Oh, honey. Just a friend?” Her laugh was breathy and echoed throughout the building. “A guy like that ain’t just a friend, but if that’s the case Buckaroo, you’re welcome to come up to my apartment. Put some tunes on and…you know.”

“You’re old enough to be his mother!” You choked, tears coming to your eyes as you tried not to bend over in laughter.

Viv gave you a cheeky grin and took a puff of her cig. “Darling, we’re the same age!”

You waved your hand in a dismissive way and turned back to your door, hearing her leave the stairs above. “Yes, well. Parts of us are.”

Giving Bucky a apologetic look, you quietly let him, your daughter and yourself into you apartment. Shutting the door behind you and flicking on the lights, you revealed the mismatched furniture that resided within the bare, red bricked walls.

“Home sweet home.” You stated, stepping into the main living area and throwing your coat over the back of the brown leather couch to your left. The apartment smelt of sandalwood incense with a slightly dusty undertone that tickled your daughters nose, making her sneeze.

“Oop!” You laughed, unclipping the fastenings of the baby carrier. “Hello, sleepyhead.”

Your daughter didn’t seem that fazed by her small series of sneezes and merely whined and snuggled closer to your breast. Heaving a sigh, you preyed her from your body along with the baby carrier and walked passed Bucky into the next room. There you unbuckled your daughter and let her down in her cot to sleep.

“Ms Chambers doesn’t that bad.”

“Ha!” You laughed, walking back into your living room area where Bucky had sat himself down on your couch. “You don’t know her like I do. Trust me, as soon as you’re gone she’s going to be straight down here with a bottle of something and will try to cox your entire life story out of me.”

“Now, what would you like to drink, Bucky?” You asked him.

“What do you have?”

Opening the cabinets above the kitchen bench, you peered at the bottles you had in store there. “White and red wine and bourbon.”

“Glass of white for me, thanks.”

You twisted around to look at him. “Seriously?”


“Nothing,” You said, taking the wine bottle out, “it’s just that you’re possibly the first guy I’ve known who’d rather white over red.”

Pouring yourself and Bucky a glass each, you balanced the glasses in each hand as you walked over to him, the bottle tucked under your arm. Taking his glass, Bucky budged over to allow you space to sit down next to him after you set the wine bottle of the coffee table. Shifting around on the cushions, you sat to face him.

“So,” You begin, “tell me about yourself, Buck.”


@paranoid-borderline-insane @dance4angels @kennadance14 @fab-notfat @cassandras-musings @livasaurasrex @iamwarrenspeace @hollycornish @greek-freak101 @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @priettierthanyou @purplekitten30

Title: Have Mercy on Me

Genre: Romance, Friendship, future Smut

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong x Reader

part one | part two | part three


How exactly did I end up here? You couldn’t really recall the exact thoughts that led up to this moment. Sitting in a blacked out SUV, with a one Kwon Jiyong who had a ice pack pressed up against his now bruising face. What was I thinking! With your head in palm and your perfect bun now in a lopsided mess to the side and your lipstick smeared across your mouth you pressed your body as close to the door as possible.

    “…I don’t fucking bite.”

    The sudden sultry voice made you jump in the quiet car and it took everything in you to look straight at him. Your gaze met his and your breath caught. He had said it so smoothly as if you guys were casual friends. You nodded, “well I guess that’s a good thing.” Instantly you wanted to suck those words back in. However when you saw the little twitch at the corner of his mouth you made peace with your choice of words.

    Without a second thought you slid over and grabbed his wrist. The quick movement caused him to tense up and you could feel him try to pull away from your grasp. Giving him a brief threatening glare which he equally matched, you did not back down. Pulling the bag of ice away from his bloody nose, you hissed just imagining how it felt. It don’t look broken, but he was going to have to take some painkillers if he wanted some peace tonight.

“Well, it doesn’t look broken, but you might have some bruising around the eyes. I would head to the hospital if I were you. I’m pretty sure you can’t afford any kind of broken anything.” Sliding back over to your side of the car, you started to fix the mess on your head after fighting with the hair tie that was tangled beyond belief.

You continued to watch him from the corner of your eyes as he grabbed a couple wipes from the middle console and began cleaning up the blood that was beginning to dry on his face. Surprised when he offered you a few that you gladly accepted. You had almost a stroke when you a saw the makeup smeared against your face in the reflection of the car window.

“I wanna thank you for helping me back there, I know you didn’t have too.” Every Time he spoke it made you tense up. To say you were nervous was an understatement. He was famous. He was handsome. He was bloody and oddly you found that little fact to be a slight turn on which you kept brushing off. You trying to keep your composure calm and the exhaustion wasn’t helping. The only thing your wanted was your warm sheets and your canine friend. The events of this night however kept playing over and over in your head, knowing well that the adrenaline was gone by now after sitting in the car for over an hour. You would gladly do it again.

          * two hours ago

You weren’t sure exactly what was going on. It was two in the morning, but the club still had the ambiance as if it was still a young night. You had remembered getting a text from two friends to meet them at club Arena. After searching for what felt like forever you had settled for drinking instead. There was too much friction, bodies, sweat and sexual tension in this place to even try looking for two individuals.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself crashing to the floor, you glass shattering and you could feel your knees throbbing. In spite of your calm mind there were times where your temper took control of your body. Swinging around, with rage blinding you and in more control over heels than you ever had before you lunged. Just as you jumped the man who had gripped your hair and pushed up down he had pulled back and punched one Kwon Jiyong square in the face. Ignoring completely that this was not your fight, for obvious reasons. Jiyong stumbled back, a friend of his catching him before he fell to the floor. Recovering quickly he jumped back in, blood pouring from his nose already. What in the hell is going on? Still on the assailants back you were dumbfounded after realizing who the bloody male was. The taller man grabbed your hair again trying to pry you from his back. The pain made you snap back to reality and your nails dug into his chest causing him yell. Falling forward just as Jiyong stepped back and swung. Narrowly dodging his mindless attack you moved off to the side, catching a few curses from him.

It would seem as if time had stood still, you noticed. The bouncers finally arrived, grabbing the tall man and one of Jiyong’s friend held him back. Shrugging off your jacket you threw it over his head and ducked him down just as flashes started going off. What are you doing, Y/N. Why are you getting involved? You cursed trying to find a way out and luckily this guy likes to travel with bodyguards. Oh, now they decide to show up. Just where the hell had they been?

You kept getting tangled in with him, just as you thought it was going to be over. They grabbed you by the shoulders and hid your face, keeping your jacket over Jiyong to avoid releasing his identity. They would later find their attempts in vain. It was a blur as your face was pressed against the chest of one of the bodyguards. It took everything in you not to gag at the scent of his musty sweat. Shoots could still be heard as everyone burst through the doors at the back of the club, they went around to the front where from what you could see were two black SUV.

And so, here they were two hours later.

“What’s your name?” His question falling on deaf ears as you were lost in your own thoughts.

He asked again. Still no answer.

Jiyong reached over gently touched your arm. The warmth from the graze of his fingers ran through your body like wildfire and your head snapped towards him with a wide gaze. “What?” You questioned, placing your hand over where the mark of his touch still tingled.

He chuckled with a small grin plastered on his face.

“I asked what your name was.”

“Ah, Sorry, I was just thinking. My name is Y/N and you’re G-dragon, right?”

“Jiyong,” he corrected you.

“Hm, Jiyong-ssi.”

Just as his name rolled off your lips the driver side door opened and one of the men that were in hired help for the celebrity. Jiyong’s ripped his eyes from you and nodded to the man.

“The hounds are coming. Haesoo reports that your house is surrounded. No doubt something got leaked out after all the silence we put out there. I don’t think it would be wise for you to go home tonight. Not looking like that. Thanks to you Miss, pictures haven’t surfaced yet. All the reporters have at this point is the speculation that you were involved.”

Jiyong rubbed his temple and pulled a cigarette from the pack with his lips and sighed.

“I guess, the apartment in Hongdae is gonna have to do,” he muttered, taking a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled from the small crack in the window.

“You can take me home,” you rose your hand and smiled. Pointing to the time on the radio, strongly indicating that it was four in the morning. Thankfully it was Sunday and you would be able to sleep in before work on Monday and hopefully you would be able to forget or at least pretend that this was dream.

Joon, the driver looked to Jiyong and back to you and frowned deeply.

“Let me guess, no can do.” Jiyong looked almost apologetic and you almost forgot that he was the reason you were this mess, partially. Then it was your temper. That was your story and you were sticking with it.

“Possible pictures will link you with Jiyong.”

“Oh well, my bad for trying to be a good samaritan,” you snapped. Not only were you tired and hungry, but not they weren’t letting you go home. Was this technically kidnapping?

Your temper was causing Jiyong to find his hard not to smile so he settled for resting his mouth behind his hand. “You can stay with me tonight and I will drop you off at your place tomorrow morning and we will scope out the place,” the rapper suggested as he put out his cigarette.

The driver agreed vigorously.

Morning. It was already fucking morning. Groaning at the forming headache and the concern for your canine companion you reluctantly agreed.

It was a long hour drive from Gangnam to Hongdae, a very quiet one.

By the time you arrived there was only two hours until daylight. Like a slug you pulled yourself from the car, taking careful steps. It was only now that you realized your ass was asleep.

“I bought this place a couple years ago as a place to lay low,” pushing open the door and flipping on the lights. You took your heels off and your ankles popped in relief. Now you just needed a bed.

“It’s nice, do you come here often?”


Well that answered that. You slipped on the slippers that he handed you and you began look around. Everything was so neatly placed, right down to the white couches. Pieces of art littered the walls and equally elegant vases on shelves.

“I’ll be right back, I’m gonna wash up real quick,” he pointed to his messy, tired face and you smiled.

You didn’t feel comfortable enough sit so you remained you browsing. Looking at the various pictures of his younger days as the water ran. You were completely lost in his life scattered along the walls that you hadn’t realized he was standing there now. Jiyong watched you quietly as he leaned against the door frame. You made your round to him and he smiled.

“Here, it should fit.” He lent you a over sized gray sweater. Hell yes, it will fit. It was probably two sizes bigger on him.

He showed you to the room that was opposite his which you gladly followed. There was bathroom and a bed and that was all you wanted at this very moment.

“I’m turning in, I’ll see you when you wake up.” With that he left you alone, the door clicked behind him as he shut it. You flipped on the bathroom light and washed up. Slipping out of your dress and threw his sweater over your head. You let the warmth develop around you and it instantly made you ten times drowsy. You don’t even remember falling to bed, but sleep had consumed you.

To be continued. 

They hate me (Grayson)

request: (anon) can you do a sad one of gray please? xx 

a/n: WARNING: it’s a bit sad and depressing so if you are easily triggered maybe give this one a miss xx also they talk about making a video together to talk about the relationship, hate etc and if you want me to make like a part 2 imagine of that video I will xxxxx 


word count: 924 

Originally posted by 0nly-an-illusi0n

It was late at night, Grayson was in bed next to me fast asleep. I started at him for a while, taking in the beauty that somehow was mine. Never in a million years would I have thought that Grayson Dolan would be with someone like me. He is everything I’m not and I know he should be with someone who suits him better. 

Sleeping was not an option tonight, I was so awake and alert for no apparent reason. I wouldn’t say I am depressed or overly sad, most of the time, especially since meeting Gray I am the happiest I’ve ever been. But in all honesty with his status and the masses of fans that want to rip me to shreds, sometimes it gets a bit much. 

It’s usually at night, when he falls asleep so peacefully beside me, that I am the most vulnerable. Being left alone with my thoughts while I’m tired and not thinking straight never ends well. I scrolled through my social medias in a failed attempt to get a little sleepier. I do my best to avoid looking at my comments and mentions because I know they will upset me. Despite this, as I check my DM’s there is a message that somehow compels me to click on it. 

“Grayson is changing and it’s all your fault. You have ruined everything that is important to this fandom. Everyone hates you, if you wanted to do the right thing you would leave him.”

I read and re read that message probably 100 times. Has he changed? Is it a good change? Is he happy? Do I make him happy? Am I too much for him? Am I hurting his career and chances of success? Do they all really hate me? Would leaving be the right thing? I could leave right now, catch a flight out of here and he could move on with his life, put all his attention into his work and fans. 

Maybe that would be better for him. Thoughts flooded into my head, all clashing and fighting with each other trying to decide which was right. My vision was blurred as I quietly got up from the bed and made my way to the bathroom. I lent over the sink staring at my self in the mirror, immediately bursting into tears. I hated myself for over thinking, for not being confident in my relationship and for not trusting Grayson when he says he loves me and he is happy. I tried to keep my sobs quiet in an attempt not to wake him. I paced back and fourth in the bathroom, raking my hands through my hair groaning in frustration. I hated my mind, the things I thought and the way I handled these things. Why couldn’t I just brush them off, handle it with grace and confidence in my relationship. 

The door handle rattled and I realized Grayson was out of bed and probably looking for me. “Baby are you in there?” He whispered through the door when he realized it was locked. I didn’t usually locked the door. I fumbled around trying to wipe my eyes and fix myself up a bit. 

“Yeah just a sec.” I replied, you could hear it in my voice that I had been crying but I just hoped he wouldn’t notice. 

“Let me in.” He asked. I took a breath and opened the door to him, he looked worried. I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and tried to move past him, back to the bed. He grabbed my wrist, pulled me back to him and looked deeply into my eyes. 

“You’ve been crying.” He stated. I didn’t know what to say, I just tried shaking my head and smiling but he wouldn’t take that. He sat me down on the bed next to him. 

“What’s wrong baby girl?” He cooed into my hair as he hugged me. The tears, again, were immediate. I sobbed into his shoulder for ages before I could manage to get any words out. 

“They hate me.” I choked. “Your fans, they hate me and they hate me for being with you." 

"Noooo baby don’t say that. Who cares what they think? It’s only me and you who know how good what we have is.” He replied. 

“But I do care, that’s the problem, I care so much about you and about your career and I can’t get their voices out of my head. I’m just drowning in a sea of hate and criticism and I don’t know how much longer I can do it.” I cried. 

“Stop you can’t say that. Please baby I’ll fix it, we haven’t talked about it properly in a video and I think we should. People can get to know you and see how happy we both are when we are together. It will make things better I promise.” He sounded so sorry and so genuine. It broke my heart. I tried to smile but that didn’t happen so I just nodded in agreement. He pulled me in for a tight hug, his hugs seemed to make it all seem okay. He laid me down in bed, for up and made me some sleepy tea, sat next to me while I drank it trying to cheer me up, then snuggled down next to me. He didn’t mention it but he stayed awake until he knew I was asleep, despite how tired he must have been.

Despite being sad, that boy made me very happy.

anonymous asked:

#18 for newt?? i love your writing, by the way

#18: “You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.”

Some days were just blue. Not blue, as the sky was in normalcy, or blue in the way Newt’s old coat hung from the rack. But blue in the darkest, most intimate way. Blue in the dark depths of the ocean, comforting but overwhelmingly closed off by the pressure. And all you could do is lay there, sinking into this blue, knowing that some days it came as a light drizzle of blue little raindrops, and other times it was a tidal wave crushing your bones. 

Today it had been rendered to gentle tides, lapping your shore with sorrow and melancholy. You thought it would be impenetrable, the colour guarded by the way it dried to your soul like paint left out in the sun. But he’d come into your room, bearing yellow chamomile tea, wrapping his yellow scarf around your neck, and placing yellow sunflowers in a vase next to your bed. He understood that you were blue, if only for today, but he still loved you. He wouldn’t stop loving you even if you turned purple, or grey, or green. And he was yellow, a bright bashful light, not meaning to spread joy and warm hearts wherever he went, but doing it in a rather oblivious way anyway.

Today he had taken to starting soft conversation with you on your bed, doing most of the talking. He respected the fact that sometimes you just wanted to listen; your voice too weak to form words when your mind was shrouded in blue.

“My first kiss was actually with a mermaid.” Newt admitted, continuing the story he had begun. “She unfortunately tried to drown me after.” His story elicited a small smile from you. “What about you, have you had any er- strange kisses?” 

You sighed, placing your finished tea on the side table. “I haven’t been kissed enough to have any funny stories. Unless you count experiencing many horrible kisses to be entertaining.”

Newt frowned at you, taking you hand in his. He bit his lip, not looking in your eye as he spoke. 

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.” He uttered gently, his freckled face shying away. “You deserve that.”

“And who do you suppose would know how to kiss me, and do it often?” You asked, a hopeful spark igniting in your heart. The sliver of yellow cutting through the blue. 

“Well- I guess uh… Me.” Newt said, a timid smile tugging on his lips. Those lips that you had always wanted on yours. He took your silence and longing stare as a sign to go forth and expel the rest of your blue; and when he lent over and pressed a kiss to your lips, it felt as if a colour could be experienced and personified. The colour yellow.  

*request a book quote drabble*


Theo x Reader

Requested By Anon

Warnings: language and phrasing?

“Theo it’s cold and raining.” You sighed as he woke you at an ungodly hour and insisted you bundle up and go out into the cold rain.

“Yeah well it’s not raining in the truck.” He grunted, unlocking it as he stopped you from getting in the passenger side. “I’m trusting you with something very precious and important.”

Keep reading


I was fifteen when I realised that my imagination was the strongest force I would ever feel.

My mum knew too and she knew I was up to something. I scrambled around pulling on jumpers I owned and then threw them repetitively back onto the floor of my bedroom with an audible angst. I hadn’t eaten any dinner. I had pulled straighteners through my thick curls over and over and filled the room with plumes of smoke as they singed through my tangled hair.

“Sophie has fallen out with her mum again and wants me to meet her in the field behind her house.”

“It is cold, why don’t you just invite her here and we can all talk it through?”

“She’s been crying, she is too embarrassed”

My mum smiled and I blushed.

“I am pleased you girls look out for each other”.

She knew I was telling a lie, she had witnessed the tell tale signs, my wavering shoe gaze and freshly made up face at 22.00 on a school night but having once been a teenage girl herself she kindly ignored my lie and told me to “be careful”, her own sort of blessing.

It was cold. This far into the countryside the stars shone like they were at a party in sequined dresses. The lack of pollution prohibited any heat from the day from lingering and I shivered feeling a direct closeness to the universe. I was fifteen and at the center of it.

I had asked him to meet me four doors down from my house, which I told him was “the one with the most flowers”. I spun a few more lies for fun; I told him I was with friends behind the wooden stile drinking wine. I wanted him to think he flowed into my sociable evening, not that I had been cross-legged on the floor of my bedroom for the last hour reading Anais Nin thinking of this moment. The night was so full and heavy, I smiled knowing I had yesterday eaten all my carrots in preparation but I knew the trees and the brambles like I knew the crack in my bedroom ceiling and so could enjoy the woozy mixture of bravery and fear, which I guess they call rebellion.

I stood in the alleyway in silence and I waited.

After five minutes some headlights slowed and my phone vibrated. There he was in a car on the other side of the road- my future. I climbed over the stile with my hood up; the single strand of hair fell down on purpose. His tall frame was hunched over in the old mini cooper; I couldn’t see his face, just his luminous BFG silhouette in the single street lamp. I tried to open the door but couldn’t seem to get the latch right. He lent over and opened it for me.



I shrank into my hood and turned my gaze to my 15-dernier tights, which I picked at with devout concentration. He didn’t say anything but he didn’t need to, there was music on and we started to drive out of my village towards the town. He’d said he needed to fill up his car so I guessed that was where we were headed. I was so full of awe. I stared at his curled hands on the wheel of a vehicle that could move foreword at a rate of 30 mph or more, a whole vessel rattling along with us enclosed. Driving was the best way to get to know someone, both concealed in the foreword gaze, gaining distance if nothing else. I turned my face to study his, lucky that his eyes must stay fixed on the road giving me a moment to study the corners of his jaw, where the headlights hit his nose, the shaking human hairs that covered it like lit up grass and in its shadow, caved his eyes into darkness. I was trying to take a picture in my mind of the beginning of the rest of my life. I guessed he was thinking of something wild and serene like a renaissance painting or a Keats poem. He looked kind and nervous. In short I was in love.

I had imagined all these scenarios about what might happen if we were to meet. Words would tumble out of our mouths and erupt into bursts of laughter, we’d drive, taking it in turns with no regard for the law to a coastal town where we would crack open a pink lobster on a sun warmed step, the sea water licking our toes. I would write letters to my friends back at school, who would writhe around in jealousy while we discussed real questions that exceeded my age group, good and evil, the teachings of Freud… I had taken everything I wanted out of life and encased it all in his image, the ones I had clicked repetitively over on Facebook. I decided that I would fill him with ideas and polish all of his lacking thoughts so that he could be perfect, and I could be his. Young girls in love were selfless.

We were still driving in silence; I was feeling calmer now and in tune with my thoughts. I took down my hood and hummed along to ‘when the sun hits’. Why wasn’t he saying anything? I wanted to surprise him with my adaptability, my ability to compliment and to laugh. The car pulled up at the petrol station and he swung his long limbs out to pour petrol into the car. I felt it flowing into the engine and giving me courage. The petrol station shone in artificial light like the bar in Nighthawks. I thought, “I will tell this to him and he will be impressed”. I got out of the car and propped my arms onto the roof with my hair falling down my back, I was shaking like a cat in fur. He looked at me and walked in the opposite direction.  I would have done anything for him.

When he came back to the car I compared our scene with the painting. He said he hadn’t seen it and that he thought art was ‘pretentious’. I pondered the word, which I have never liked. Then he smiled with his teeth, put his hand on my head and said:

“You shouldn’t attempt to understand things that aren’t useful’

I smiled back and the corners curled down. If I were a painting I would be wielding a weapon. As we started to drive again I felt a strange new feeling cloud my previous awe it was like disappointment with a backbone. Had I made him up inside my head? I wanted to watch his face say something that would inspire me in the same way the idea of him had so unfairly moved me. I stared at him, like I might look at the taxidermy dodo in Tring museum whose feathers were rotting and frowned. The lights in the road rolled away under us, cat eyes winking with a knowing nod. We were getting closer to my house, my favorite trees a canopy of lit up leaves and I was almost grateful. The music started to interest me, it’s floating shoe gaze words cut through the scene.  A wash of carefully selected notes played on instruments somebody looked at and loved. I came back to myself. We pulled up onto the curb. He looked over with questioning eyes and was different. I smiled and got out. The night seemed warmer now, my vision focused and my head clear and full of wonder.

Through the window in the kitchen I could see my mum, reading in the corner with her glasses on and wild hair tumbling around her face and felt all that awe settle on her in her simple solitude. I went to read with her and felt my heart get stronger.

Chris Beck Drabble 21 & 29

Request: 21 and 29 with Chris beck pretty please?

21. “I like you, you squid!”

29. “I’m not supposed to laugh, right?”

You sat around with everyone, watching as Chris not-so-subtly flirted with Beth. He was making her laugh which caused him to smile. You get it, you really do. Beth is really pretty - gorgeous even but the thing is, you like Chris and have for a while now.

As he continued to flirt with Beth you felt your fists clench and you let out a long breath. You could deal with it, you could until he lent over and ran his thumb over her cheekbone with an adoring smile.

That was it. You hit the top of the table, grabbing everyone’s attention. “Why don’t you guys get a damn room?” you snap.

You get up and leave the room, not noticing the startled looks everyone was giving you. Once you disappear into the break room, Chris smiles at Beth.

“You think it worked?” he questioned.

“It had to.”

Chris nods his head before getting up, following you. He opens the door and spots you leaning your head on the little fridge and he smiles.

“What was that all about?” he asked, shutting the door behind him.

You turn around. “What was what all about?”

“Your little outburst.” he walks so that he’s standing in front of you.

“You’ve got to be a major idiot if you don’t know.” you shake your head as you run you fingers through your hair.

“Then enlighten me.” he smiled.

“No thanks, I’ll pass.” you respond, making your way to the door. “I’ve got to go. Commander Lewis needs-”

“Why’re you trying to leave? All I asked was what that little outburst was-”

“I like you, you squid!” you shout, flailing your arms around. “There! You happy?! I said it!”

Chris bites his bottom lip. “Did you just… call me a squid?” he then lets out a loud ‘pfft’ before bursting into laughter. You stand there, glaring at him as he continued to laugh.

Chris,” you snap, crossing your arms.

He looks at you and slowly but surely his laughter dies down. “Oh um…” he clears his throat. “I’m not supposed to laugh, right?” you huff and throw a small bag of chips at him, making him laugh again. “If it means anything, I don’t like Beth. I like you. She was just helping me by making you jealous. I wanted to know if you felt something for me before making a move.”

You glare at him, throwing another bag of chips. “Why couldn’t you talk to me like a normal human being!”

“Sweetheart,” he spoke, standing in front of you. “We both know I’m far from normal.”

And he kisses your forehead.

years that have gone, and years that will come - a mileven soulmate au

so this is my contribution to the stranger things big bang! it’s a soulmate au where you are born with the ability to feel the other’s emotions/pain. it was betaed by the wonderful @stardustsantiago​ (thank you!), and here you can find incredible fanart by the beautiful @raesberri​. alternatively, you can read it on ao3. i hope you all enjoy! get ready for some angst ;))


The pain had hardly been bearable before Mike had met her, but after — when she is gone — that is the definition of unbearable.

He had grown up with a constant ache of pain, an ache of panic, of loneliness. Never his, always hers. He’d been sure his soulmate was a her for as long as he could remember, despite knowing that some people could have a soulmate of the same sex, his definitely wasn’t.

His was a her.

He knew the difference between their emotions, he wasn’t really sure how he knew, he just did. One was his, and the other was hers.

When he was young, barely talking, that’s when he first felt the staticky flutters that were her emotions spike and become so vivid and real it was like someone was drilling into his arm, but it wasn’t his arm, it was her arm. But he could feel it, and it felt so real, he’d sat up in bed and screamed at a volume seemingly impossible for a child of his size. Ever since that night, the emotional connection between Mike and her (whoever she was) was strong. He could feel her every emotion, even when her heart just palpitated too fast.

It was unusual to have such a strong connection with your soulmate so young, unless you knew them from a young age, usually your connection with them didn’t become clear until you met them.


At age seven, Mike asked his sister (who was twelve, which to a seven-year-old is practically an adult), “Can you feel your soulmate?”

They were sitting on the floor of the living room, close to the TV so they didn’t have to get up off the couch and walk all the way to the TV if they wanted to change the channel.

Nancy shrugged, “Sometimes, but not very often… I’m only twelve, I just probably haven’t met him yet, I’ve got loads of time.”

A sudden terrifying question found its way into Mike’s mind, “What if you never meet your soulmate?”

Nancy glanced back into the kitchen — her mother inside it, cooking dinner for the whole family — and thought of her parents. “Some people never do, so they marry the wrong person for the wrong reasons because that’s easier than to continue to search for the right person.”

Mike sat there in shock of what his sister had said. What If he never found her?

“Now, scram,” Nancy said, shoving him lightly, “I’m trying to watch something.” She turned up the volume knob on the TV and Mike reluctantly left the room.

He walked up to his own room and shut his eyes hard. I’ll meet you, he thought, and he hoped she could hear him.


At age eight, he began watching the girls in school, not in a creepy way, just to see if their faces matched the emotions he could feel — they never did. He took out a book on the science of soulmates, which wasn’t very helpful. No one really seemed to have any solid answers to about how they worked, something to do with atoms and stardust, which to an eight-year-old (even one who read at a ninth grade level) sounded ridiculous.


At some point during the autumn of 1980, he found himself alone in the kitchen with his mother, helping her bake some muffins for Nancy’s bake sale (or something along those lines, he hadn’t really been paying attention). He watched his mother as she carefully filled up the patty pans, somehow managing to get every single one exactly even, which baffled him.


“Hmm?” She doesn’t look up.

“How do you know when you’ve met your soulmate?”

Karen almost dropped the bowl of mixture. “You’re a bit young to be thinking about that, aren’t you, Mike?” She replied, after a moment.

Mike pulled himself up onto the kitchen counter. “I was just wondering, because what if I just see them in the street and then never again? How will I know it was them?”

Karen put down the bowl of mixture and looked at her tiny son sitting there on the kitchen bench, his legs barely dangling over the edge he was so small. He was young, too young to be worrying about things like this.

“Michael, one day, you’re going to meet a girl, who will be different from any other girl you’ve ever met, because she will be the girl meant for you. And maybe you won’t know right away, but it won’t take you long to work out, you’re a smart kid.”

Mike thought about what his mother said for a moment, it made sense, then he nodded and hopped down from the bench, leaving the kitchen.

“Michael!” Karen called out after him. “Do you want to lick out the bowl or not?”

Mike hurried back to the kitchen.


Sometimes the pain, sadness, scared or loneliness (or a melancholy mix of all four) was too great. Mike would lie on his bed and focus on his breathing and heart rate. He’d be able to feel her heart, as if beating next to his, and attempt to sync them.

“One day, when we meet,” he’d whisper, staring at the ceiling, “I’ll make you feel happy and safe. I promise.”

Somewhere, not too far away, a scared girl was sitting with her knees drawn up to chest all alone in a dark room. Every part of her hurt, but she could feel an emotion that wasn’t hers, and if she knew the word for it, she’d call it empathy.

Keep reading


Originally posted by the-devil-beside-you

What were you to do, if you found out the love of your life, was cheating on you with a woman who was prettier, skinnier and overall better in bed. Someone you had met, and known for a while.

Many people - normal people - would have left their sorry asses, and dived head deep into a new life. But people like me - who just can’t seem to let go of their one loves - do exactly what I’m doing now. 

Sit at home, waiting everyday for him to come back with a large smile, and pretend I know nothing.

My husband is a man of great wealth, he owns a company many could not afford. He’s respected, reliable and overall, a good businessman. But one thing he is not, is loyal. For I had found he was cheating on me with his beautiful secretary.

My husband is CEO, Justin Bieber.

Married for years, you would think we were undeniably deeply in love with each other, and we were. But it was only a one sided party.

I don’t know when the love he had for me took a turn, or when he decided he’d begin his affair, but I knew, I wasn’t leaving him anytime soon. I loved him too much. I just couldn’t.

He dosen’t know that I know what he does behind my back, it’s been months since I found out, and during those months, a depression from deep inside grew into a blossoming black rose.

I wanted nothing more then then the old, faithful Justin back.

I pondered of the situation everyday, and tried to recognise where I had gone wrong. Was I too skinny? Too fat? Too ugly? Too short? Or was it just me in general?

I know he suspects something of me but when he’s around, I pretend to play dumb. I had changed since I found out, I don’t talk to him as much and try to stay as far away from him as possible. 

Which is why I’m currently sitting down on the first floor living room window seat, while my husband is upstairs in our room. When things were better, we would cuddle up next to each other, and take advantage of the time we got alone.

Now, I avoided his every move, and tried best to keep my distance. I loved him no doubt, but I would never look at him the same.

The wine cup I swished firmly in my hand, allowed the liquid to swirl around the cup, entrancing me completely. My mind was in a completely different place, a set that was not healthy in any way shape or form. 

I missed my husband, but I hated him so much at the same time. 

You want to know the worst thing of it all? I work in the same office.

With a sigh, I finally allowed my eyes to draw straight towards the window in front of me, head spinning after glancing down at the glass for so long. 

Was it just me or was something standing out there? I think this wine was messing with my mind. So I closed my eyes, and shook my head. 

Then reopened to assure myself that nothing was there. But boy was I wrong. My whole body jumped back in shock, legs gliding off the cushioning of the window seat in a hurry. 

My legs lead me further away from the window but my eyes held glued to the figure outside. 

It was difficult to see over the dimly lit surrounding area and pouring rain, splashing about upon my window, but out there in the dark night stood a man with a white mask. 

He wore black all over and held his form in a creepy, eerie manner. But what left me dropping my wine glass in fear, leaving it to clatter to the floor and stain the expensive white carpet was the large knife the man sported in his hand 

That’s when I officially freaked, and began bolting my way towards my room. 

“JUSTIN!” I yelled out, skipping ever each step. 

My legs were bare, nothing on my body but a plain old white T-shirt that once upon a time belonged to Justin. My voice was shaky and cracking in fear, I was in hysterics by the time i reached our hallway. 

“JUSTIN!!!” And as I slammed the door to the room open, i found him sitting upon our bed in shock, eyes glaring at me with worry present. “Justin!” I cried. 

It was only a matter of seconds before I was scrambling into his arms, shuffling as far away from the door as possible. My hand lay on his chest, tears of fear running down my makeupless face.

Justin soothed my back, rubbing softly while whispering comfort into my ear. “Shh. It’s alright baby girl.”

But I was shaking. It was not alright. 

“What happened?” He questioned. 

It took everything for me to mutter up, but finally I managed to speak in a shaky voice “S-Someone! They were there! I saw them.”

“Hey, hey slow down.” Justin spoke. “Breath baby. Tell me what happened.” 

And I listened, I took in a deep breath and spoke a little more firm. “Someone was standing by the window. A-And they were holding a knife.”

Justin’s eyes widened. “A knife?!” 

And before I knew It I was leading him down the stairs towards the window seat. Slowly, the window came into view, my heart beat harshly in my chest as I crept over towards the glass. I couldn’t go on any longer and stopped in place, allowing Justin to approach the remainder of the steps.

I watched him crept over, slowly and carefully allowing his body closer to the window. Then he gasped, stepping back in a dash. 

“See!” I gasped to which he suddenly shook his head. 

“You spilt wine all over the carpet!” 


I glanced down, spotting the wine stain and shattered glass all over the place, then I was quick to step forward and glance out the window, realising the figure was now gone. 

“What?! No. T-There was something there! Someone, was standing there Justin you have to believe me!” I pleaded. 

Justin glared into my eyes for a second, spotting the fear and tears brimming the edges, then back down at the carpet. It was obviously something had scared me enough to have dropped the glass right against the floor. 

Justin knew I was neat freak and would never allow something like this to happen. He sighed. “I believe you saw something. Just maybe not a man.” He spoke softly. 

“Are you calling me crazy?” I whispered. 

“No! O-Of course not Y/N.” 

I continued. “Because I’m not crazy Justin! I know what I saw!” 

“Y/N.” Justin began. “I think you should see a therapist.” 

“What?!” I spat.

He rubbed a hand down his face, sighing in the process “I don’t know- I mean. You’ve been different lately. We used to be so close, your sadder, more distant. Now this? I think It’s best you see someone. For your own sake.” 

I was furious. “’I’M NOT FUCKING CRAZY JUSTIN!” I exclaimed “I don’t need to see anybody!” 

“Y/n,” Justin tried to reach out to me, but I was quick to step back. There was no way I was going to let those dirty, unfaithful hands touch me again. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I cried. 

Justin was taken aback by my outburst, slowly glancing between me and the window. “I’m calling Dr Copic tomorrow. Please Y/N, if your not doing this for you, then do it for me.” 

And with that, he leant forward, placing a warm kiss on my head before walking up the stairs towards our room.

“Please Mrs Bieber, calm down.” 


Dr Copic sighed, proceeding to push his glasses further up his nose. “I do not think your lying Mrs Bieber.” 

“Then why don’t you believe me?!” I spat.

Dr copic licked his lips. “Let me go over this Mrs Bieber, you’re telling me you think-” 

I interrupted. “I know.” I growled. 

“Right.” Dr Copic nodded. “You know your husband is having an affair with his co-worker. And that you saw someone outside your window last night. May I ask - do you feel, sad? Depressed in anyway?” 

“Yes.” I nodded firmly. 

Dr Copic lent over, jotting down some notes onto a notebook which sat firmly on his lap, and once finished, glanced up, removing his glasses from his face. “Mrs Bieber, I think I see what the problem is here.” 

“Me too.” I agreed. “Your a shitty therapist.”

Dr’s eyes seemed shocked by my response, but soon brushed it off and continued. “Mrs Bieber, It seems you have a disorder called Depressive Psychosis.” 

“What’s that?” I sighed.

“It’s a form of depression, and quite serious too. You hallucinate things because of hormonal imbalance in the brain, and because of your hallucinations, you feel depressed.”

My eyes squinted into thin lines, voice low “Do you think I’m crazy?” 

Dr Copic shook his head. “No Mrs Bieber, Depressive Psychosis does not mean your crazy-”

“Do you even hear what your diagnosing me with? Depressive Psychosis? As in Psychotic?!”

“No Mrs Bieber-”

“I’m not crazy!” I called out once again. “I know what I saw.” My voice was strained, helpless and pleading. Dr Copic seemed hesitant, staring into my eyes with conflict, he gulped, not sure what to do before slowly leaning down into his brief bag with a sigh.

I watched intently as he searched around for awhile, then proceeded to pull out a white bottle which created a rather loud rattle. “I want you take one of these every night. It’ll help.” 

And with a sigh, I slumped in my chair slightly, a tear rolling down my eye. I’m not a psycho, why doesn’t anyone believe me?

“Y/N, I know you don’t believe me, but your husband loves you, he wants to help. Take these - for him.” 

Your husband loves you - it echoed in my head. I loved him too.

“I’ll take them. For him.” I agreed.

Part Two soon to come!


Eggsy x Reader

“(Y/N) nice to see you… alright babe how you doin’… This is stupid why the heck’s she with an idiot like you?” Eggsy sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

“Eggsy, (Y/N)’s here.” The sound of his Mum broke Eggsy out of his worried fussing and he hurried out to the living room to hurry you away before Gary or Rottweiler could corner you.

“Let’s go.” Eggsy muttered and pulled you out of the flat, taking your hand and jogging down the stairs with you. Some of Rottweiler’s mate hooted at you and you had to hurry between Eggsy and the group as they cackled at him.

“Eggsy come on!” You sighed and he glanced at you before reluctantly throwing an arm over your shoulders.

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