like how can you do things like that and not flinch

Forget Me Not

A/N: @maruthor, here is the Jaybird angst I said I would write ^.^ Also: special thanks to @nightwingdiva who helps me make my angst as painful as possible. She is kind enough to read all of my angst before it gets posted and helps me add all the special little twists and details.

Y/N fought back tears as she ran through the cave. She had gotten a call from Tim twenty minutes earlier. Jason had been injured evacuating a building filled with victims of human trafficking.

It was a case he had been following for months and had brought the rest of his family in to help with. He had been so caught up with tracking down leads that he had barely been around lately. Not that Y/N complained about it, but there is only so much someone can take.

One missed date night turns into two and suddenly she hasn’t seen her boyfriend in a month. Y/N remembered gathering courage to talk to him last week. She had just wanted to get lunch with him. Was that too much to ask? Just sit and eat with me, Jay. Help me remember that I have a boyfriend and that it isn’t just a title I wear.

He didn’t like that though. When Jason is focused on something, that is his world. Everything else fades as he dedicates all of his time and energy to reaching some far off goal he set for himself. Usually, Y/N is able to drag him out of it for small portions of time without it affecting him overly, but this time, the case was personal. The targets of the human trafficking ring were all street kids, like he had been. Many of them Jason knew and tried to take care of when he had the time.

When Y/N had walked into the makeshift headquarters Jason had set up, his brothers had taken one look at her before stepping out. They knew Jason was pushing himself too hard and they hoped Y/N might help a bit, but Jason had tried to dismiss her as soon as he laid eyes on her. He couldn’t afford any distractions when these kids were in danger.

“Jason, you need to eat. I brought you your favorite.” She had begged quietly as she held up a bag of fast food. “And when was the last time you slept? You look exhausted.”

“That’s because I am tired.” Jason said absentmindedly as he continued typing on the computer, not look up at her once. “Just leave the food on the table and I’ll eat it eventually.”

“Actually, I was hoping you would eat with me.” Y/N said quietly as she put a hand on his shoulder.

Jason flinched as he shook her hand off. “I would, but what I am doing right now is far too important to pause for a lunch date.”

Y/N tried not to get too hurt at his words. “I know, it is just that we haven’t had a date in two months and I wanted to see you.”

Jason closed his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. There are lives at stake here.”

“That might not be the only thing at stake.” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Jason finally looked at her, his teal eyes narrowed in irritation. “Look, you knew what you were getting into when you decided to stay with me despite me being the Red Hood. If you can’t handle the pressure of dating a vigilante, then pack your shit and get out of my apartment. Now, I need to get back to work if you are done distracting me.”

Y/N bit her lip as she shook off the painful memory of his words and approached the table he was now lying on. “How is he?” She asked Dick, completely breathless from running.

“We aren’t sure yet.” Dick said, his normally bright eyes dull with worry. “He got hit pretty hard by a falling beam. We weren’t expecting the building to blow, but we got everyone out. Jason was the last one in the building, making sure every last person got out.”

Y/N felt her heart break. Of course Jason would get hurt making sure no victims had been left behind. Dick wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into a comforting hug. “He’s been through worse, he’ll make it through this, too.” He said as he played with her hair. Y/N nodded and pulled away. She would love to let Dick comfort her, he was a fantastic friend and the best at soothing emotional hurt, but right now all she wanted was to be with Jason.

She sat down in the chair beside his bed and took his hand. It was odd seeing him so still and lifeless. All his wounds had been treated and his dark hair was mostly hidden with gauze. She laid a kiss on his knuckles as she studied his emotionless face. He looked like a wax doll of himself laying on the bed.

“Do you know when he will wake up?” Y/N asked.

Dick cleared his throat and took in a shaky breath. “He may not.” He whispered hoarsely as he walked away.

Y/N got up and leaned over the bed. “Jason, I need you to come back to me. You did it once before and I have no doubt you will do it again. You are the strongest person I have ever met and I love you for it.” She said as she laid a kiss on his forehead.

She pulled back, hoping to see his beautiful eyes, open and alert, but they remained closed.

She settled in the chair once again and sighed. She was determined to stay until he woke up.

Funnily enough, it turned out he would wake her up.

“Who the ever loving fuck are you?” Y/N jolted awake at the words. She looked up to see him scowling at her.

“Jason, I’m your girlfriend. We have been dating for two years.” Y/N said, thinking that would help to clear up some of his apparent confusion.

“Think I’d remember if I was in a long term relationship.” Jason scoffed. “Now, if you don’t mind” get the hell out of this room.”

Dick chose that moment to walk in. “Good, he’s awake.”

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but Jason spoke first. “Could you get this crazy bitch out of this room? She is claiming to be my girlfriend and it is pissing me the fuck off.”

Y/N didn’t wait for Dick’s response as she walked out the door. For months now, it had seemed like she was slowly fading out of Jason’s life. What a cruel twist of fate that he would actually forget about their entire relationship. She just wished she had the luxury of forgetting their relationship as well so that she wouldn’t have to deal with the heartbreak.


Prompt: Not sure if your requests are open but I’m a big fan and I was wondering if you could do a Jason Todd x reader where Jason gets hurt on a mission and gets amnesia and forgets the reader by anon

The Game {BBH}

Description: “Because it was all a game. A game of who could hurt who first, and you were determined that it wouldn’t be you.”

Genre: (rushed) Smut / Angst

Word Count: 1,627

Warning: infidelity

Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x Reader // Kim Jongin x Reader

Author: Admin Xiufairy ㅅㅇㅅ (this GIF KIM JONGIN IM WEAK)

Originally posted by blondejongin

Baekhyun had been cheating on you for a long time. Everyone knew it, but nobody would really admit it. He was waiting for you to say something…but not yet. You wouldn’t say anything just yet. You were waiting for the day you walked in on him with another girl, you were almost looking forward to it.

Because it was all a game.

A game of who could hurt who first, and you were determined that it wouldn’t be you.

Keep reading

Captured

Request from @crystalbaby12 for a Jax x Reader using the following prompts:

#13 - “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”

#88 - “After everything…I’d still choose you.” - A/N - I left this one out as I didn’t know how to put it in. Hope that’s okay!

Originally posted by psicomana

“I can’t believe this shit.” you curse, pulling at the restraints on your wrist. Swearing loudly, you kick over a stool near your feet, the wooden chair smacking against the floor. You listen, waiting to see if your detainers come to see what the noise is about, but everything remains silent.

“I’m gonna rip his fucking heart out as soon as we get out of here.” Jax snarls from behind you, his back pressed up against the opposite side of the pillar. Even though you can’t see his face, you know his forehead is scrunched up in anger, the way it always does.

“If we get out of here.” you correct him, resting your head against the immovable post. “I dunno about you, but it looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”

“Now ain’t the time to talk smart.” he snaps, referring to your sarcastic tone. You roll your eyes, huffing in annoyance yet keeping your thoughts to yourself.

Minutes later, Jax sighs loudly, the silence broken by his now softened voice. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” you reply quietly, not knowing how much longer you’re going to be able to last, your back stiff and stomach rumbling from being kept hostage for well over a day now. “You think they know where we are?”

“I dunno, but we better hope they do.” You close your eyes, his response truthful yet lacking the hope you’re aching to hear. “Unless the club can somehow come up with half a mil in two days, we’re fucked.”

“Wow, great pep talk. I can see why they chose you for president.” you say, rolling your eyes. Jax brushes his hands up against your own, his restraints stopping him from holding your hand in his own.

“I’m gonna get you out of this, (Y/N).” he replies, determination in his tone. Tears prick at your eyes, heart heavy with panic, body heavy with fatigue. “I’ll never let anybody hurt you.”

“Bang up job you’re doing.” you sniff, your nose tingling as your vision turns misty, defeated tears falling down your cheeks. “I forgot, only you’re allowed to hurt me, yeah?”

You know it’s a low blow, the past between you and Jax still raw even though it’s been a good six months since you found out he was sleeping with Colette behind your back.

“You really wanna do this now?” he questions, his voice surprisingly calm, as if he knows you’re on the edge.

“What better time, Jax?” Your voice cracks as you say his name, frustration thick in your veins as you try to hold yourself together. “Might not get the chance after he slits our throats.”

“Jesus Christ!” He tugs at his restraints mercilessly, the pain in your voice like nails on a chalkboard, his skin crawling with red hot fury. You flinch as he shouts, more tears escaping from your eyes.

He remains silent for what feels like forever, the tension level high as you try to face the fact that you might not make it out of here alive.

Your head pounds as you cry silently, unable to bear the thought of never seeing your family again, or never seeing the club again.

“I argued with Tig before we got picked up.“ you start, your throat thick with emotion, the lump refusing to budge no matter how many times you swallow. “What if he blames himself?”

“Fucking stop it, (Y/N).” he warns, defiance in his words. “We’re not gonna die here.”

“How can you be so sure?” you argue, your bubble of hope completely deflated, your mind screaming at you to be realistic. “We live in the life, Jax. This sort of shit happens all the time.”

“Not to us, alright? This isn’t how it’s gonna end for you, (Y/N).“ Shaking your head, you wish his words could cut through the negativity in your brain. “I promise I’ll get you home safe.”

“Okay.” you agree falsely, tired of the same empty promises.

You feel yourself being shaken awake, the throbbing in your skull the first thing you feel once you begin to stir. Blurry vision focuses on Jax, a worried expression on his face as he studies you. “Shit, I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

“What happened?” you ask groggily, your throat dry due to the lack of fluids. Taking in your surroundings, your eyes widen in horror as you spot the bleeding body near the door. “Oh my god.”

“Hey.” he calls, his cold hands cradling your face as he tries to direct your attention back to him. “It had to be done. Once I cut loose, it was either me or him.”

You know it’s true, though it doesn’t make it any less horrifying. Nodding, you try to blink away the black spots dotting your vision, cold sweats creeping up your body as you try to remain calm.

“Jax, I don’t feel right.” you complain, nausea sweeping over you in waves. Jax presses the back of his hand to your forehead, his icy touch bringing you temporarily relief. “I think I’m gonna pass out.”

You can barely hear him talk, his words muffled as a loud piercing sounds in your ears, beads of perspiration dripping from your neck down to your back. No matter how much you try to fight it, you feel yourself slump to the side, reality slipping from you as you lose consciousness.

The unmistakeable fumes of disinfectant fill your nostrils as your eyes flutter open, a white ceiling greeting you as you do so. A hiss escapes from your lips as you shift, the hefty needle hanging out of your arm being the cause. “Welcome back, sleeping beauty.”

You turn your head to the side, a smile slipping onto your lips at the sight of Gemma. “Gem.”

“I’m so glad you’re alright, sweetheart.” she mumurs, standing to place a loving kiss upon your forehead. The simple gesture brings tears to your eyes, relief flooding though you at the realisation that you’re back where you belong.

“Where’s Jax? Is he okay?” you ask, a million and one questions sitting on the end of your tongue. Gemma smiles knowingly, before nodding, a heavy breath leaving your lips.

“He’s been worried sick.” she says, squeezing your shoulder comfortingly. “I’ll send him in.”

A minute or so later, Jax slips into the room, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. His eyes look tired, though they spark once they land on you, his skin looking a little less pale. “How you feeling?”

“Alright, considering.” you respond quietly, pushing yourself to sit up as Jax sits on the side of your bed. “How long have I been out?”

“Couple hours. You scared the shit out of me.” he admits, running his fingers over his beard. You reach up bravely, taking his hand within your own, squeezing lightly.

“Thank you for keeping your promise.” He’s taken aback by your actions, not expecting you to greet him with such warmth. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“I’m sorry I gave you a reason to.” he says, his eyes flickering to your lips before he clears his throat, pulling away. Leaning down, he places his lips upon your forehead, lingering for a few seconds. “I’ll leave you to rest.“

You wrap your hand around his wrist, stopping him from exiting. “Will you come back later?”

“You want me to?” You nod shyly, unsure where you stand with him. He raises his brow in surprise, before a small smirk appears on his face. “Then I’ll see you later.”

“Alright.” you reply lamely, a hopeful flutter in your chest that maybe you can work past the hurt, and maybe there is a silver lining to this situation after all.

A/N - Ahhhhh I’m really not sure how I feel about the ending of this but hopefully you guys like it! Thank you for being so patient, and thank you for reading❤ let me know what you think!!

anyone else still sometimes catch themselves thinking about how after all those years of idolizing dave strider and after all that time in the void session wondering and anticipating and nervously awaiting this theoretical possibility that he might get the chance to meet him, dirk finally fucking sits down with dave one on one hours from the final battle and like wow fucking surprise motherfucker

he gets to find out his literal worst fears were ACTUALLY true! the version of him that dave knew actually did, in fact, do his level best to ruin dave’s life and was an abusive, toxic influence from day one and throughout to the point where dave can’t even look at him without flinching! 

this coming at a time when dirk is already horrendously low on himself, his relationship with Jake literally just blew up like 3 hours ago and if the AR thing went down even remotely the same way there was also that and holy hell dude what a time to be informed about the existence of Bro Strider. Dirk is sitting there thinking he was a toxic influence to Jake from moment one and probably all of his friends the whole time and here Dave is confirming everything from a parallel perspective? 

you can just see this horrible gut clenching moment when this utterly defeated Dirk just meekly accepts that this other version of himself is reflective of his true innermost self and has justifiably ruined any chance he ever had of impressing or even knowing Dave

– and then you see Dave just immediately lift it off him, even get kinda angry at him for having the audacity to even try accepting it that way, you can FEEL Dave’s fucking confusion because he went in guns blazing expecting a confrontation with someone as impossible and inscrutable as Bro was. Dave went in expecting to punch a brick wall and get nowhere, and instead he got Dirk “you’re absolutely right and I’m so fucking sorry I ruined your life” Strider 

and from Dirk’s pov, listening to this, watching this, having this realization that this dave isn’t an untouchable, aloof, mysterious and mythical heroic figure of legend at all, but that only makes him MORE worthy of idolization in all the ways that genuinely matter – and simultaneously thinking that he’s already sabotaged himself out of the chance to know him at all.

It’s like, god, you know those hyperrealistic nightmares people have sometimes that are so fucking scary because they’re indistinguishable from real life, the ones where after you wake up it takes a long time for the understanding that it was actually just a dream to hit you and then you want to cry with relief? 

For Dirk this had to have been so much like that, the whiplash between being 100% sure that Dave was just going to say what he needed to say and then never speak to him again (and knowing Dirk would have considered it completely justified and never questioned his right to do so jesus christ) followed IMMEDIATELY by Dave just being like no you don’t get it, THIS you, this version of you, what I am looking for deep down in my fucking SOUL is for this you that you are right now to be a person that I can have in my life to tell me that I’m okay, that you’re okay, that WE’RE okay – and after fifteen minutes talking to you I can already immediately tell that you ARE that person. 

Dirk’s friends were always only interested in denying the possibility that Dirk could ever truly become a monster, they could never have possibly understood just how DARK Dirk is at his most self destructive, and that’s part of why their reassurances were always hollow for him – they didn’t GET IT, right, they never could have followed the rabbit hole all the way down, so what did they know? But this guy, Dave Strider, has literally seen Dirk at his worst, has lived through the actual reality of the worst things living inside the full-picture potential of Dirk Strider, has dealt with that to great personal detriment and is fucking STILL sitting here telling him “I can tell that you are different, I can tell that you are better, and I am willing to trust you and help you to become a better person than the guy I knew because at the end of the fucking day, you are too important to me to give up on”

like yeah confronting dirk with all of that was what dave needed absolutely but BEING confronted and ultimately forgiven by dave was what dirk needed too, just as much

in conclusion homestuck is good

thin lines (m)

pairing: reader x park jimin

summary: park jimin was famous for being a fratboy, a cutie with a booty, and for being a pain in the ass. yet, somehow, you still ended up in his bed. 

genre/count: smut and fluff [ nc-17 ]   |   7.8k words

a/n: i started writing this at work and enjoyed it way too much :’)

Jimin liked to think himself easygoing. He could sweet talk anyone, worm his way into people’s lives and fit himself all snug in their hearts. It was just a charm of his, he supposed. He wasn’t too judgmental or strict, liked to be the good cop to everyone’s bad cop (especially Yoongi in the frat).

But there was something about you that just irritated the fuck out of him. It wasn’t as if you were unpleasant, no. You were pleasant to everyone except him. You were always so effortlessly fucking gorgeous. You never looked snobby or pretentious and he would do you ten out of ten. So he wasn’t quite sure what it was that nagged at the back of his mind about you.

It was during one of his fraternity’s house parties, Hoseok’s this time because he had just gotten the opportunity to perform his choreography in the department’s annual showcase, hence making it a good cause to celebrate. Jimin had entered, tipsy from the pre-game at Taehyung’s place with a handful of new pledges and Taehyung had announced his entrance as he always did. “Your party god and savior, Kim Taehyung, is finally here!” A few of the guys who were all too familiar with his antics waved him off. Jimin just laughed.

It was a little over midnight when Jimin found the music a little too loud, so he staggered over to the kitchen in search of a glass of water to relieve the dryness in the back of his throat. He’s found a few potential girls he could hook up with tonight but none he was too interested in.

However, the sight of another figure halted his footsteps. You stood there nursing your own drink, clad in the shortest pair of leather shorts that curved around your ass nicely, a top that was tantalizing enough to have his dick twitching in his pants but elegant enough to keep it classy. Not to mention that choker that wrapped around your neck. Fuck. You were laughing with a new pledge from his frat and he could already tell that the kid was interested but he couldn’t help the asshole in him when it came to you.

Keep reading

I Don’t Mean It (pt 7)

You hesitated to open the door. You didn’t even know if Taehyung was going to be there, but something told you that he was. You look through the little peephole as if you didn’t know who was at the door. Your heart sank when you could see all seven figures there. You smiled a little though as Hoseok leaned in close to the little hole and tried to peek back.

You opened the door slowly and greeted the boys, letting them into your apartment. 

The next couple of hours went by as they usually would have. Some of the boys raided your fridge, but to their dismay, it was rather empty. Taehyung didn’t bother even looking at you or talking to you, so you wondered why he even bothered to come. He eventually excused himself to get some air on your balcony. You felt a rush of cold air rush into your otherwise warm apartment as he slid the door open. You watched his figure walk out and promptly close the door behind him.

You finally felt a little at ease, but you still didn’t know how to confront him or when. The other guys noticed the strange look on your face.

“This actually worked out well. Less work on our part” Yoongi said out of the blue.

“What?” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“We actually wanted you and Tae to talk things out but we didn’t really know how to get you two alone. But this works out” Namjoon said.

“Alone? What are you talking about” you asked again.

“Yeah…we’re going to go ahead and go. You two talk and figure this out” Jin said as he and the rest of the boys got up.

“You can do it Y/N!” Jungkook said as he patted your shoulder as he and the rest of the boys walked past you. You stood there in shock. You were finally, quite literally, forced to confront Taehyung.

You finally noticed Jimin standing in front of you, not realizing that he didn’t walk out with the rest of the group.

“You can do this Y/N. We’ll always be here for you, ok? Let me know how it goes” he says with a sad smile. You couldn’t help but smile back, but you could still feel your heart race.

A few moments after the six of them were gone, you awkwardly fidgeted around your living room, constantly checking to see if Taehyung showed any signs of coming back in. After a few more minutes, you had your back faced to the balcony, checking your phone after you received a few messages from Min Joo.

You heard the balcony door open and the cold air once again and you after what felt like a few hours, you turned around. Taehyung looked around the room and he seemed very confused. 

“Where are they?” he asked finally. You realized you hadn’t heard his voice in almost two months and you realized just now how much you missed it. 

“They uh, just left.” you said, trying to sound calm while it felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. You hated confrontation with a passion.

“Why? You know what, nevermind. I’ll leave too” he said, starting to walk towards the front door behind you.

“Wait! Tae!” you said hurriedly.

Tae. You let the name slip. He probably didn’t like you calling him that. Not anymore at least. But little did you know that it made his heart skip a beat too. He missed your voice just as much as you missed his.

“What?” he asked dryly. He was afraid of showing any emotion because he was scared of forgiving you in a heartbeat.

“C-can we talk?” you ask, not daring to look into his eyes.

“About?” he asks bac.

“A-about us? I-I just want to know what really happened between us” you asked. You were trying so hard not to let the tears form but the stinging in your eyes told you that you didn’t have much longer till you broke.

“I think I already told you how I felt.” he said coldly.

“Taehyung what the hell did I do to you?” you say, wanting to finally get it all out. 

He groaned in response. 

“Fine, you want to talk? Let’s talk Y/N” he said quite loudly. You flinched in response. “Why are you pretending to be so innocent? I know what you fucking did” he spat out.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, begging him to spill.

“Are you really going to pretend like you don’t know what you did Y/N?” he said, getting louder with almost every word. You could feel the tears start to form in your eyes, blurring your vision.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” you say back.

“The reporter? The article he wrote? The payment? Any of the fucking ring a bell?” he says.

“what? what reporter? what article?” you ask, genuinely confused.

“YOU TALKED TO A REPORTER. YOU TOLD HIM ABOUT ALL THE SECRETS I SHARED WITH YOU. AND YOU EVEN TOOK MONEY AS SOME PAYMENT. DID YOU HONESTLY THINK I WOULDNT FIND OUT?” he was yelling now. If you weren’t scared before, you were now. You had never seen him so angry. He took a glass from the kitchen counter and threw it on the ground. The glass shattered immediately, almost as quickly as your heart.

“Taehyung I never talked to any reporter, let alone take any money.” you say through the tears.

“Oh just shut it. I know the truth, so stop denying it. How…how could you take advantage of our friendship like that? Take advantage of the rest of the members like that?” he asks with a sadness clearly evident in his eyes.

You were full out crying now, with your heart breaking more and more with every word he said. 

“Taehyung..I-I d-didn’t.” you said, starting to sob.

“SHUT IT. You..you’re disgusting” he says, heaving.

“You…You really believe that? You think..you think that lowly of me?” you ask slowly, still looking at the ground. “You really think I did something that terrible?”

“I wouldn’t put it beyond you.” he said coldly.

“And nothing I say would make you believe me?” you ask finally.

“What excuse could you possibly give. I would never believe you. You’re no better than the rest of them. Just wait until I tell the rest of guys. I never want to see you again” he spat out.

“I-I guess that’s it then.” you said

Taehyung took one final glance at you. He didn’t know why his heart sank seeing you cry the way you did. The way you looked completely broken. “she deserves it, though” he tells himself as he walks out the door.


A/N: omg finally the confrontation. I think I might go back to texts for the next part if it fits with the plot but I’m not sure yet. Want a part 8? Let me know or I won’t write one ha!  

Thanks for all the support so far! It’s been fun writing this series. 

Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

{PART 21} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Just when you thought your night couldn’t possibly become any more heartbreaking; the man you thought you knew turns out to be something you had only ever considered to exist within the realms of nightmares and folklore.

“Perhaps, he didn’t want to be understood, so much as he wanted to be loved. His truth would set her free, but the question remained; would she stay?”

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

{Part 1} // {Part 20} {Part 21} {Part 22}

Keep reading

They’ve come back from a case, Rosie long-asleep in the upstairs bedroom where there’s just enough room for her cot and John’s bed, and Sherlock is ranting.

Stupid,” he spits out, pacing to and fro in the living room, his hands in his hair. “Why was she so stupid? Why kill them in the first place, when she knows she’s the best suspect?”

“Well, she loved him,” John offers, even though he knows Sherlock doesn’t really want his opinion.

Sherlock scoffs.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snaps, not even looking at John. “She didn’t love him.”

“What?” John sits up from where he’s been lazing on his chair. “Of course she did. Listen, I know you like to dismiss ‘sentiment,’ Sherlock, but love makes people do crazy things, so-”

“That,” Sherlock says and his voice is flat and angry at the same time, “was not love. That was possession, that was ownership, it may even have been jealousy, but it was definitely not love.” He infuses the word with such contempt that it makes John flinch, but Sherlock is moving again, glaring at the world as though it had personally offended him. “If she loved him, she’d have let him go. She’d have done everything in her power to make sure that he was happy, even if that meant he was with someone else. She’d have killed - she’d have died herself - if it meant that he would have one millimetre more happiness in his life than otherwise. She would have protected his lover with her life, she’d have done absolutely anything in her power to give him anything he wanted. Instead, she killed them both in a fit of jealous rage, because she never really loved him, she loved owning him. Like a favourite pair of shoes, or a pretty picture.”

John is still trying to absorb that rant when Sherlock crosses the room and slams his bedroom door behind him.

John sits in silence for a few moments before heading to bed.

He wakes up an hour later and John Watson has never actually experienced an epiphany before, never experienced that moment Sherlock is always chasing where all the pieces come together and your brain dissolves into fireworks and you know everything but he’s pretty sure that he just had one.

Before he can even think, he’s downstairs, pushing open Sherlock’s door and standing there like a fool.

Sherlock sits up, sleep-mussed and soft, and says “John, what’s wrong? Is it Watson?”

John licks his lips and tries to speak and…nothing.

Tries again.

“You…you love me,” he manages, and it’s a bare whisper, all he can force past the weight in his chest, of ten years of unsaid words. “Sherlock?”

Sherlock is looking at him with horror in his eyes.

“I-I” Sherlock says, and John interrupts him.

“Please say I’m wrong, Sherlock, please say I’m wrong,” and he’s speaking quickly now, tears running down his face unchecked, and his leg gives out and he finds himself on his knees by Sherlock’s bed, a ragged penitent in old pyjamas, prostrating himself before a saint. “Please say I haven’t been wrong all this time, haven’t wasted all these years, please, Sherlock, please…”

He hides his face in Sherlock’s bed, so that he can’t see Sherlock’s eyes, his beloved face creased in confusion.

“John?” Sherlock asks. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”

But John is sobbing too hard to answer, great heaving sobs, and Sherlock puts a hand on the back of his neck that burns like a brand because of course Sherlock would try to comfort him, even though he doesn’t understand what John is on about, even though John has hurt him so terribly so many times.

“I love you,” John gasps into the bed. Sherlock’s hand stills for a moment and then, cautiously, resumes its smooth comforting stroking.

“John, you’re upset,” he begins, but John cuts him off mid-sentence.

“Years, Sherlock, years,” he gasps. It’s becoming easier to speak, the weight on his chest becoming less with every word. “I’ve loved you for years. Since Angelo’s that first night, I think, since the cabbie, since the first time I saw you sleep-soft in morning light. I loved you in Dartmoor and I loved you at the pool - God, how I loved you in that moment, I would have fallen to my knees and worshipped at your feet for the rest of my life and I would have been content. I loved you on the roof of Bart’s and on the pavement a moment later. I loved you every moment of every day you were gone, and I loved you every time I stood in front of your grave and begged you for one more miracle, and I loved you when I punched your face because it was that or kiss you, and I loved you when you were bleeding out in Magnussen’s office. I loved you on Magnussen’s porch and I loved you on the tarmac, and I loved you in the morgue and in the hospital and in the prison and the well and I’ve loved you every moment since the day I met you, I love you I love you I love you.”

He doesn’t stop so much as run out of breath, chanting those three words - three words he’d never thought he’d be able to say - like prayer, John is a monk and this is his religion now, this is his faith, this only thing he knows for sure.

“John,” Sherlock breathes. “Why didn’t you…”

“I thought,” and John is trying to think of a way to say this right, a way to really explain, “I thought that you didn’t…I didn’t think you didn’t love me, but I thought you wanted me as a friend, just a friend, and so I tried to be the best friend anyone could ever have, but obviously I’m pretty shit at it, but I tried and I hid it, and hid it, and I married Mary because I thought…I thought I’d break apart from missing you and later I thought I’d die from wanting you, and I couldn’t bear to lose you but I was losing you anyway, but the surest way to lose you was to tell you, you didn’t feel the same, you didn’t want the same things, and that’s the best way to kill a friendship, and if friendship was all I could-”

And John shuts up, because Sherlock has slithered out of his bed and fallen to his knees in front of John, and stopped his panicked babbling with his mouth.

When Sherlock finally pulls back, John stares at him, shocked into silence.

“So many years,” Sherlock says, stroking a thumb over John’s lips. “We could have had so many years, John. If only we hadn’t been…”

“Afraid,” John supplies. Sherlock nods, and he’s so close that his nose rubs against John’s when he does, and it’s unbearably intimate. “We could…” And John has to stop for a moment to breathe, to lick his lips and gather his courage in his hands. “We could still have years,” he says. “If I’m not too late. If you still-”

And Sherlock doesn’t say anything with words, but when he kisses John, he writes eloquent poetry in this new language they are building together.

Yes, he says as he licks into John’s mouth

I want, he says, as he sucks a bruise into John’s neck.

I still, he whispers into the curve of John’s ear. I still love you. I will always love you.

HC that Otabek teaches Yuri that it’s okay to cry. 

When Yuri gets upset he throws punches and screams at the top of his lungs until his throat burns and he can taste blood. He comes home one day like that, smashing his fist into the wall of their hallway over and over until there’s blood smattering his fists. 

Beka had been in the kitchen, doing his own thing, but when he hears Yuri screaming, really screaming he runs to him, his socks slipping on the hardwood floor of their apartment. When he sees how completely battered Yuri’s hand are he tries to comfort him, tries to talk to him but Yuri won’t. He just keeps screaming and Otabek is almost certain that Yuri doesn’t even know he’s there. 

Beka snaps when Yuri storms into the livingroom and picks up the first thing he sees (a framed picture of them together on the coffee table) and throws it across the room, watching it shatter and listening to the crack and the immediate silence that follows after. Beka shouts then, one word, thick and loud. “Yura.” He grabs both of Yuri’s wrists in his hands and Yuri flinches away, frightened and still screaming at the top of his lungs. 

He doesn’t expect Beka to wrap his arms around him. He doesn’t expect the soft whispers of ‘I love you’ or the repeated kisses Otabek keeps leaving on his forehead. He’s confused, so confused, but his body is going limp into Beka’s strong embrace and he’s curling into him, boneless. 

Yuri cries for what seems like hours, but Beka never leaves him. When he’s done, Beka tells him that next time he gets upset to just talk to him instead of destroying their home, their safe space but that he understands. He understands why Yuri gets so upset and how much it hurts him to feel weak. 

That’s the day that Yuri learns it’s okay to cry. He’d take crying over destroying his home, their home, any day. 

The Kissing Booth

A SnowBaz fanfiction


Simon

Once a year, usually in the spring, Watford stages a carnival for the students.  It’s usually quite humble, mainly consisting of booths selling small magic trinkets, or snacks like cotton candy, sweets and other classic carnival fare.  There’s always the tiny petting zoo over near the Cloisters, and some years Watford even scrapes enough together to bring in a carousel.  Most of the booths are run by student volunteers, and though everything is by donation, all proceeds go to whichever charity the student body has voted on.

           I go every year, mostly for the caramel apples and sweet cider, but this is the first year I’ve been behind the scenes of the carnival and helped at a booth.

           In truth, I didn’t even sign up for it, but Agatha hadn’t had a break all day and needed some cotton candy of her own.

           I should have told her to find Penny, or Trixie or even Minty.  Anyone but me.

           It doesn’t take long for the word to spread that Simon Snow has taken over the Kissing Booth, and mortifyingly the line has doubled in length.  Mostly first or second-year girls, blushing and stammering or swaggering up to the counter with a pronounced sway in their step, with the odd boy interspersed through the line.

           It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me – that honour goes to the time in second year that Baz stumbled upon a spell that made my clothes slowly dissipate, garment by garment, in the middle of the dining hall – and after the first two or three quick, cold kisses I start to calm down, but I’m counting the minutes until Agatha comes back.  How she endured hours of this, I cannot comprehend.  That’s just Agatha, I guess.

           A redhead drops her donation into the tin and her eyes flit around, meeting me for only a split second at a time, her cheeks aflame.  I try to look as non-threatening as I can and lean forward enough that she can close the rest of the space.  She darts in with a kiss that’s no more than a peck before running over to a giggling pair of who must be her friends, a triumphant grin on her face. She must have been dared.  Poor girl.  I hope I wasn’t her first.

           “Well, well, well.”

           My stomach lurches at the cold drawl I know only too well.

           “What are you doing here, Baz?” I say in as civilized a tone as I can manage.

           He stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, his mouth in a twist that’s a bit too amused to be a sneer.  “When I heard that the Chosen One had taken over the Snogging Booth, I simply had to see it for myself.”

           “Well, now you’ve seen it, so now you can go.”

           “Saving the World of Mages one kiss at a time,” Baz murmurs with a chuckle.  “Not exactly what I was envisioning.”

           “I’m only covering for Agatha,” I retort, “she’ll be back in five minutes if you’re wanting her services.”

           He scoffs.  “I’d rather not snog your girlfriend, thank you very much.”

           “She’s not my – forget it,” I shake my head.  I’ve told him at least a dozen times, but it never stops him.

           “She must have been really desperate for a break to put you in charge,” Baz drawls on, his voice smooth like honey but with too much of a bite to be sweet.  “You’d think she’d at least pick someone attractive for the Kissing Booth.”

           It stings, but I don’t flinch.  “What, someone like you?” I spit back too fast.

           His eyebrows shoot up in delighted surprise as I realize my mistake.  “You flatter me, Snow,” he purrs, and I feel my cheeks heat up, but I furrow my brow tighter and hope it passes for anger.

           “Is there a reason you’re still here?” I growl as the burning spreads from my cheeks to my ears.  

           “As a matter of fact, there is,” Baz says, and his gray eyes look cool enough to staunch the flames at the tips of my ears, but the more I glare into them the more the fire rages.  “I’m here to torment you.”

           “Great, well you’ve done that.”

           “I wanted to see what you’d do.”  He leans on the edge of the counter, bringing his face far too close to mine for comfort. “What would the Mage’s Heir do if his nemesis showed up at the Kissing Booth?”

           “You can torment me any time,” I shoot back, “you’re holding up the line.”

           “Oh, yes, well,” he feigns conern, “I wouldn’t want to keep anyone from their kiss.”

           “Then go away.”

           His eyes narrow and he pretends to think.  “Mmm, no.  I don’t think so.”

           “Baz, I’m warning you.”

           “Terrifying,” he drones, “but this is too much fun.  Besides,” his eyebrow flickers up, “don’t you owe me a kiss?”

           I flash him a smirk of my own.  “Aw, Baz. If you were so desperate for a kiss, you could’ve just asked.”

           Baz, to his credit, doesn’t bat an eye.  “You think of that comeback yourself?”

           “There’s a fee, you know,” I ignore him, barely having to raise my voice above a murmur for him to hear me, he’s so close.  “You haven’t paid the fee, so I don’t owe you anything.”

           He doesn’t drop his eyes from mine, and the cool gray takes on the spark of a challenge.  Out of my periphery I see him reach into his pocket, and there’s the clatter of coins dropping into the tin.

           I should punch him.

           I should spit in his face.

           I wanted to see what you’d do.

           I take him by the lapels and crush his mouth under mine.

           He makes a muffled sound of shock.  To be fair, so do I, but mine is more angry than it is surprised.  I kiss him hard and rough, and it’s a bit of a juxtaposition because his mouth is oddly soft.  A face like his, you’d expect his lips to be made of marble, cold and unmoving, but he’s the farthest thing from unmoving.  I can’t tell if he’s struggling or if he’s kissing me back but his lips are so, so soft and I want to bruise them, mark them, bite them…

           I only stop when a series of wolf whistles reminds me that there are at least ten people watching us.

           Trying to salvage the illusion of control, I break away harshly, still gripping him by his collar.  The cocky smirk has dropped from his smooth features and now his face mirrors mine, a matching scowl, like I’ve crossed a dangerous line.  I probably have.

           “Was that what you wanted?” I growl.

           He doesn’t answer, just holds my gaze another few seconds before pushing back from the table, his lapels slipping out of my hands, and stalking away.

*** 

I don’t see Baz at the carnival after that, and I stay as long as the booths are open, perusing the same counters and feigning interest even after having looked through their contents three times.  I keep Penny company where she mans the popcorn booth, drizzling caramel over every few cartons, and I even get bored enough to hang around Agatha back at the Kissing Booth for a little while, until one too many patrons have asked if I’m available for service.  When she and Penny are freed we pet the goats at the petting zoo, the ones that Ebb has graciously volunteered for the event, and take a few spins on the carousel.  Only once the light has begun to fade and the signs are being lowered from their booths do the three of us part ways.  Even then, I offer to help Ebb get her goats back safely.

           Basically, I’m doing anything I can to put off going back to the room, but eventually I can’t avoid it any longer.  I’ve wandered the grounds enough times that the sun has properly disappeared behind the distant hills and I can barely see the ground in front of me. Even then I’m tempted to consider crazy alternatives like spending the night at Ebb’s place, but I’m pretty sure that would be against school rules anyway, and besides, I’ll have to face Baz eventually.  There’s no undoing what’s happened.

           When I finally trudge back into the room, he’s staring out the window at the moat, presumably trying to intimidate the merwolves, but he turns at the sound of the door.  His expression, though I don’t see it for long before I look away, is hard to read. Wide eyes and a furrowed brow, like he’s still mad at me for my stunt earlier, but there’s a bit of a questioning edge there, too.  Almost a where were you edge.

           Normally I have to start any type of conversation, but tonight he wastes no time. “What the hell was that, Snow?”

           There’s no question as to what he’s referring, and I can’t help but get angry again.  “Me? You’re the one who had to start something!”

           “Well, you didn’t have to react so drastically,” he mutters, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall by the window, the moonlight casting its glow on his skin and making him even paler than usual, almost transparent.  I half expect fangs to slide out from his lips for no reason and complete the picture.

           His soft, soft lips.

           “You were egging me on,” I seethe, the memory igniting the rage that I’d felt in the fractured moment before kissing him, “it’s your fault anything happened.”

           “Proud little hero,” Baz says with the slightest smirk, “can’t back down from a challenge.”

           “You know I can’t, not in front of people.”

           “Wouldn’t want them to think the Heir is a coward.”

           I feel like a balloon in me is swelling and deflating at once.  “But that’s just it, Baz,” I insist, anger momentarily aside.  “If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?”

           He doesn’t answer right away, and for a second I think maybe he understands. I want so badly for him to understand.

           “No reason,” Baz eventually says, turning to look out the window again, “not with someone like you as the Chosen One.”

           I want to groan, to kick something, to shake him by the shoulders and make him look me in the eye and for once not fight me.  Have we ever in our lives made eye contact without there being some challenge between us?

           “Why did you have to get in that line?” I shake my head.  “There are so many other ways of tormenting me, lower-stakes ways.”

           “To be fair, I’ve already exhausted most of those,” Baz murmurs with a little shrug of his shoulders.

           “When have you ever been fair?”

           “Touché.”

           I’m tired of standing here at the door, so I kick off my shoes and sit down on my bed, trying not to think about how much closer I am to him now, still at the window, looking as vampiric as ever.  His gray eyes are positively silver in the moonlight, and the black of his hair looks silkier than ever, as if it’s soaking the rays directly into him. He almost glows.  I have to laugh a little, because more than once Baz has mockingly compared me, with my bronze curls and sky-blue eyes, to the sun, but he himself wears a halo of night.  If I am the sun, then Baz is most certainly the moon.  Distant, cold, mysterious, almost too pristine to touch.

           His gaze returns to me suddenly.  He raises an eyebrow in a wordless inquiry, and I realize I’ve been staring.

           “What exactly was it you expected me to do?”

           “At what point, Snow?” he gives a humourless laugh.  “You had more than one opportunity to react.”

           “When you paid the fee.”

           His tiny smile disappears.  “It doesn’t matter.”

           “It does.”

           “Drop it, Snow,” he says, the hardness returning to his eyes, and I know I’ve cornered him.  Drop it is Baz’s way of betraying himself, of saying there’s something that he doesn’t want to tell.

           “Was I supposed to kiss you?” I ask.  For some reason I have to know.

           “No.”

           “Then what?”

           “I don’t know, Snow, punch me.  Push me. Beat me to the ground.  Something.”

           My brow furrows in confusion.  “Wait. You wanted me to hit you?”

           He shrugs, more with his head than his shoulder.  “One of us has to get hurt, right?”

           I rise to my feet, and I’m face-to-face with him again, only his eyes are different this time.  Whereas at the booth he had betrayed no hint of doubt at our closeness, now there’s a flicker of something in the silver, something that feels a lot like the way my heart is racing in my chest, and it dawns on me.  He was putting on a show at the carnival, acting like nothing I could do would get to him, just as I had been.

           If they think I’m afraid, what reason do they have to hope?

           One of us has to get hurt, right?

           And suddenly it makes sense.

           There’s only a few inches between us, so it feels almost natural when I lean in and press the gentlest of kisses to his lips.

           He doesn’t kiss me back this time, but he doesn’t move away either.  “What was that for?” he asks when I draw back a second later.

           “You act like we’re so different,” I say wonderingly, “but we’re the same.”

           “How?”

           “What do you think we’d be if we didn’t have to fight each other?”

           I don’t miss the split second of longing in his eyes.  “Keep dreaming, Snow.”

           “Because I bet it would involve a lot more of this.”  I bring a hand up to his neck, my fingers instantly lost in the wavy tips of his hair and it’s exactly as soft as it looks bathed in moonlight.

           Baz closes his eyes like he has to collect himself.  “You’re the hero.  I’m the villain.  What more do I have to say?”

           “Fuck that,” I chuckle, “we both know that’s not true.  You’re a boy, and I’m a boy.  That’s all.”

           “Tell that to the rest of the world.”

           “I don’t care about the rest of the world,” I shake my head adamantly, “I want to know what you think.”    

           “About what?”

           “If there was no act, no reputation, no role to play,” I murmur, “if we were just two boys, what would you do?”

           Baz returns my gaze a moment, searching my eyes.    

           Then his lashes close and he’s kissing me, and my eyes drift shut again like I’m sighing in relief.

           I let my fingers tangle higher up in his hair while my other hand grips the front of his shirt like earlier, only without the anger of the afternoon.  He angles his head further and guides the kiss deeper, his hands gently gripping my waist and pulling me closer.  I melt against him, my mouth moving with his, my head swimming with his citrusy scent, and I can’t hold back the moan that escapes my throat when he takes my bottom lip between his teeth in a gentle tug. Suddenly I’m floating, weightless, and Baz gives a muffled sound of surprise when I press back a little harder.

           When we finally break apart, both of us gasping and dizzy, I immediately want more, want to line his neck with my mouth, want to feel his breath hitch when I reach the base of his throat, want to hear my name in his sigh.  Would he sigh Snow or Simon?  I want to know.

           “Please,” I whisper, dotting a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “can’t we just be two boys?”

           When I meet his eyes, they’re full of more longing than ever.

           In response, he kisses a soft, slow triangle pattern on my cheek, and I recognize the pattern of the three moles by my eye, and I can’t help but smile.

“We can try.”

Von (Hope)

Þar sem gróir þar er von.
Allt sem græðir geymir von.

Listen to [x] while reading.

-

On the night of May 2nd 1998, Draco Malfoy lays awake on his bed.

It’s over. He’s dead. It’s over.” His mind chants. But is it?

A dark, hooded figure that hadn’t been there a second before stands on the edge of his bed, Malfoy starts. He grasps for his wand before realizing he hasn’t got one. The hooded figure chuckles, voice acidic and cold.

“You cheated me.” It says, Draco is frozen in place, searching his brain for whoever this might be. It can’t be the Dark Lord. He’s dead. Draco saw him die today. It can’t be.

“I’m Death.” It answers the question he hadn’t voiced, the knowledge brings a sense of Deja Vu, but he can’t quite place it “and no, I’m not here to take you with me.” he fails to conceal his disappointment. The room feels colder than it had.

“You were meant to die today, in the fire, but you didn’t.” The hairs on his body stand on edge at the mention of it. He’s shaking before he realizes it.

It had been so hot, he’d been gripping Potter’s waist like a lifeline, the fire licking at the hems of his pants, his screams drowned by the roar of the flames, Crabbe falling down and being consumed by them like he was nothing. He thought he’d die. He wishes he had.

“It was written on the stars, Draco Malfoy. However did you cheat the heavenly bodies?” It drawls out impatiently, he doesn’t know the answer. Is he supposed to?

“For this, however.” Death says, swishing it’s cloak, bony hands showing “I owe you a wish. Any wish at all.”

Draco’s eyes widen and his heart picks up speed in his chest. Any wish at all.

He suddenly remembers hearing a similar story to this one. Every bone in his body advices him not to accept, for Death could only be cunning and deceitful, not giving and generous.

Or perhaps Life was the first two and Death’s sweet release was the last. Perhaps life had been the cruel one all along. He dreams of a world where he doesn’t have to feel all of this, where the guilt doesn’t eat him alive, where he never takes the Dark Mark, where war doesn’t kill hundreds, where he’s happy.

He realizes that even if Death is fooling him, he doesn’t mind the likely outcome.

“I want a time turner” he says firmly “One capable of going back to 1991.” If Death is surprised, it doesn’t show it, it moves it’s hands in a swish and a time turner appears between them. It floats until it settles on Draco’s hand.

“Act wisely, Malfoy boy. For I can only grant you one wish.” It says, the ghost of a smile behind the dark hood. Then disappears.

Draco clutches the object and adjusts the time. He wonders if he’s in a dream, if it’ll work. Maybe he’s already dead and doesn’t know it, he doesn’t mind much. 

Doesn’t care to find out.

He closes his eyes and is launched into the paradox of time and space. He sees a colorless void and falls falls falls. His body small and insignificant in the never-ending space. Just when he’s starting to become fond of the quiet nothing and the soothing air touching his face, his stomach twists and he appears in a room that he knows too well. High ceilings and cool toned ancient furnitures. No feeling of home or coziness despite belonging to a child.

His childhood bedroom. If one could call it that.

He looks at the clock with a sharp twist and beneath the time, it reveals the date.

July 31st of 1991.

He almost can’t believe he has succeeded, but can’t dwell on his fear and excitement too long, for a small boy whom he knows too well and not at all stands at the foot of his bed, staring at him in horror. It’s a shock, seeing himself so full of life in the innocence of a child who doesn’t know what the future entails. A child with eager eyes and a prideful chest. Malfoy realizes he’s a ghost of what this child is.

“Who are you?” The small one shrieks. Draco presses a finger to his lips, shushing him. He’s grateful that the Manor is big enough for them not to be heard.

“I’m you. From the future.” young Draco flinches back and is about to start shouting again, before he seems to take in Draco’s features and connects them to an older version of himself. His eyes widen and Draco can see himself panic and glance around frantically, although also subtly, for an escape.

Slytherins. He thinks fondly.

“That’s not possible. Why-how are you here?” He demands.

“I have a story to tell you. But the first thing you need to know.” He swallows a lump in his throat “is that today you will be meeting a boy as you get fitted for your Hogwarts robes. I want you to change what you will say to him, for it’ll change how he sees you. It is extremely important that you do so.”

“Why? What do you mean? I don’t understand.” young Draco looks even more confused, of course he is.

Draco explains as much as he can and sugar coats what a child shouldn’t have to know. He attempts to explain to his own self that the opinions of his father are wrong, the small Draco tries to protest, but he doesn’t allow him to and continues telling him what’ll happen if he doesn’t listen carefully. By the end, his voice is hoarse and little Draco looks sick with fear. But he nods, seemingly understanding he has a duty to perform even if he doesn’t quite understand all of it it. Ah, the usual Malfoy, accepting what’s presented to him, born to please his elders, he thinks bitterly.

“Who’ll be the boy I’ll meet today?” His younger self asks tentatively when Draco is done talking and stands up. Draco smiles nostalgically as he adjusts the time again.

“I have put my faith in you, what you choose to do from now can change everything.” He says, and just as he feels the void sucking him in again, he says his last words to the last hope he’s got.

“And Draco, one last thing.” the kid nods “offer him your hand before you learn his name.”

-

where things grow, there is hope,
all that heals has hope.
 

Undercover ~ BTS!Mafia AU Pt. 1

Thank you for 2,000! We hope you enjoy! - The Admins

Summary: Jeon Jungkook is the leader of a Mafia. He’s a drug lord, rich, and a murderer. And you? You’re just (Y/N). But to Jungkook you’re his everything, and he will do anything he can to keep you safe.

Type: A bit of everything

Warnings for this part: Guns, SMUT!, Blood, shitty fight scenes (i tried bro), language, drugs, angst

Group: BANGTAN BOYS

PART 2


You had just gotten off of work and headed over to Jimin’s place. You hadn’t talked to him all day and decided you’d pay him a surprise visit. You used your key to unlock the door and set your bag down on the small table next to it. 

You had barely taken a few steps into the house when you heard a moan, Jimin’s moan. ‘He’s probably masturbating’ You thought, it wasn’t the first time you had walked in on him jerking off. 

He did it when he was impatient and you’d always come home at just the right time to be able to help him. You smiled to yourself and slipped off your shoes before walking towards his door at the end of the hall.

As you went to grab the handle you heard another moan, a woman’s moan. ‘Is he watching porn?’ You thought and grabbed onto the knob. 

“Oh Jimin! Right there!” A woman cried, you could tell he was having sex with her, the noises of skin slapping got louder. 

You opened the door and saw a sight that you would never forget. A woman was underneath Jimin, her legs were out and he was thrusting into her quickly while letting out those grunts that made you so wet. But you were just disgusted. Hearing those noises made you want to puke. 

You watched in shock as he used a hand to grab onto her breast and squeeze her nipple while the other moved down and he used his thumb to rub her clit. His back was facing you and she had her eyes closed, she was moaning too loudly to even hear you walk into the room. 

She was right on the brink of her orgasm when you almost screamed. 

“REALLY JIMIN?!” He had one last snap of his hips that made her orgasm before he quickly pulled out and stared at you. You watched as she squirted all over him and the sheets and gagged. 

“Wait! (Y/N)!” He got up and followed you as you ran down the hallway. His dick was red and hard, standing against his lower stomach but that was the last of his worries. 

“I-I can explain.” He stuttered, surprised that he had been caught. This wasn’t the first time he was fucking another girl, this had been going on for a while. Hell, he had been having sex with multiple girls all at once, he had been getting bored of (Y/N). 

You shook your head and said nothing while tears streamed down your face, your hands shook as you grabbed your shoes and slid them on your feet. 

“(Y/N), listen.” His hand reached out to grab yours and you flinched and slapped his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me! Don’t…” You grabbed your bag and he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Please! Let me talk.” You could barely see clearly from the tears in your eyes. 

“No, I don’t wanna hear it.” You opened the door and ran down the hallway to the elevator, quickly closing the doors before Jimin could make it to you. 

You ran out of the apartment complex, barely making it out of the doors before throwing up on the grass. Everything you had eaten came up and you were dizzy while walking to your car. 

You took a minute and wiped away your tears and went home, never speaking a word to Park Jimin again.

5 months had passed since you’d said a word to Jimin. You came back the next day, collected all of your things you had left at his place, giving him back the shirts you took from him and walked passed him and didn’t look back. 

3 months after he had cheated, you went on a date with Jungkook and things went on from there. You had met Jungkook through Jimin and became your best friend. Whenever you and Jimin argued, you’d step outside and call Jungkook, letting out all of your problems. 

You haven’t had sex since the last time you and Jimin had slept together and that was nearly 3 weeks before you caught him cheating. 

Jungkook was rich, but you weren’t dating him for the money. When you met him, he looked like complete shit. Hair messy and unwashed, his eyes were bloodshot and he had bags underneath them. His shirt was wrinkled and he had dried up tears on his face. He walked in on you and Jimin watching a movie and told Jimin about how his girlfriend had broken up with him. 

He asked you on a date when you were complaining about being tired of being alone. You were tired of staying in bed all the time, crying because of your heartbreak. But Jungkook, he was everything you wanted and more. 

Jimin was great at first, but near the end of your relationship, you barely talked to each other anymore. 

Jungkook made you feel special, he got you what you want and simply asked for your love in return. You made it clear to him that you didn’t want the money, he was what you wanted. 


And now you were here today. 

Another day on the job. You lead another family to a table and handed them their menu’s. A dad, and two children. You politely smiled and rejected him when he asked you out on a date, stating you had a boyfriend. 

He smiled in understanding and proceeded to talk to his children. ‘If only more people here were like that’ you thought to yourself while going to hand their orders to the chef. 

Most of the men that went here were with their girlfriends and snuck over you on their way to the bathroom, trying to cop a feel. 

A few girls had even hit on you before, they stared and bit their lips, admiring your body from head to toe. But you also rejected, again stating you had a boyfriend. 

When your shift was over, you said goodnight to everyone and made your way home to your apartment. You said hello to the friendly old lady who was working on opening her door, her poor old shaky hands struggling with putting the key in the hole. You watched as she walked in and then walked into your apartment. You turned on the lights and kicked off your shoes, stretching before laying down on your couch. 

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and read the text messages from your friends and quickly replied before shooting a text message to Jungkook. 

‘Just got off work. How was your day?’ 


Jungkook was currently at one of his clubs with Jimin, Yoongi, and Namjoon. Jimin was dealing cocaine, laughing and joking around with one of their clients. Jungkook was sat in a chair, silently watching everyone closely. 

Yoongi had a girl on his lap, she was grinding against him while they made out. Music was blaring and some other people were dancing. 

Hoseok was in another room, having sex with one of his usual girls. When the DJ would switch the songs, you could hear their moans, she was literally screaming. 

Jungkooks phone vibrated when he noticed something odd. One of his clients had a gun tucked into his belt, which was strictly against the rules. No one but Jungkook and a few others were allowed to carry a gun on them while at the clubs. 

Jungkook got up and walked over to Jimin, putting his hand on his shoulder and tapping his finger 3 times. This was their signal. Jimin shrugged his arm off of his shoulder and when they made eye contact, Jungkook’s hand made it’s way to his gun. 

Jimin’s hand reached into his pocket and wrapped around the handle of a knife and by this time their ‘clients’ had noticed what they were doing. 

In a second, guns were raised. 

Yoongi and the girl had broken up, he was stood next to her, gun raised and she had one in her hand also. Namjoon was aimed at the one who was aiming at Yoongi. 

Jimin made the first move and quickly stabbed his knife into the man’s gut that was standing behind him. His arm shot up, hitting his arm so the gun went off and the bullet went into the ceiling. 

Jungkook quickly shot the next two, one of their bullets grazing his shoulder. Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and the other female shot at a few other people. Jungkook shot at their leader but missed. 

He knocked the gun out of Jungkooks hand and he was just left with his hands. The man named Sooyoung stabbed the knife into Jungkook’s thigh, and Jungkook yelled at the pain. 

Jungkook punched him in the jaw knocking Sooyoung back. Jimin had just finished pulling his knife out of the chest of another man and threw it at Sooyoung, and it landed in his shoulder. 

Blood was soaking Jungkooks pant leg as he pushed Sooyoung down to the ground and straddled his waist so he couldn’t move. He pulled the knife out of his shoulder and stabbed him right in his chest. 

Sooyoung’s white dress shirt was soaked with blood and Jungkook got off of him, wiping his forehead but smearing blood on it. Jimin opened the door and yelled for everyone to get out so he and the others stayed behind to clean. 

“Jungkook, what happened?” Yoongi asked, looking over his body. 

“Stab wound to my thigh, I think that’s it.” He replied while staring at the dying body below him. Sooyoung coughed and tried to reach for a gun that was laying on the ground but Jungkook kicked it away with his foot and the remaining life left in Sooyoung slipped away. 

Jungkook took a seat and Namjoon already knew what to do. His hand wrapped around the handle tightly and the other pushed on Jungkook’s thigh. 

“Three.. Two..” Namjoon didn’t even get to one before he pulled the knife out and immediately started applying pressure. 

“Fuck!” Jungkook yelled and grabbed onto the arms of the chair. Namjoon’s hands were covered with blood and he bit his lip as Jungkook struggled to stay conscious. Yoongi grabbed onto Jungkook’s sleeve and ripped it so he could tie it around his thigh tightly. 

“I need to see (Y/N),” Jungkook said standing up and using the wall to stay stable. 

“What Jungkook? No, you need medical attention.” Namjoon said, stepping in front of the door. 

“Let me see (Y/N)!” He said sternly before pushing Namjoon out of the way and limping out to his ride. He paid someone to drive him to her apartment and by the time he arrived it was 2 in the morning. 


A tired (Y/N) opened the door and she was in one of his t-shirts. “Jungkook?” You gasped and pulled him inside quickly. 

“What happened?“ 

”(Y/N), I need help.“ He avoided your question and you led him into the bathroom and slowly stripped him of his clothes. 

He sat there in his boxers as you wiped away the blood from him and grabbed your first-aid kit from underneath the sink. You used some alcohol to clean where the bullet grazed his shoulder and you almost cried when you saw his thigh. 

“Jesus.” You whispered and very slowly dabbed the alcohol onto it in which Jungkook tried his best not to yell. 

“I need stitches.” He could barely speak and you nodded and grabbed a needle and thread and tried the best you possibly could. 

When you were finished, Jungkook was laid in your bed and you were cleaning the blood in the bathroom. 

“You doing okay?” You asked when you stepped back into the room. 

“For now.” He nodded, the pain meds were finally kicking in. 

“Now, tell me what the fuck happened to you.“ 

He said nothing.

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked patiently at Jungkook.

“Look Jun-”

anonymous asked:

How about a semi angsty fight with the rfa+V but they make up because HAPPY ENDINGS ARE NICE

I’m a slut for angst don’t give me this power 

Yoosung: 

✮ you had accidentally knocked the power cord to his computer while you were cleaning and he was playing LOLOL 
✮ he screamed 
✮ he was ranting and raving about how he was in the middle of an important raid and he was so close to levelling up 
✮ and you’re kinda standing there with a laundry basket and a pile of clothes almost over your head 
✮ and you don’t know what to do 
✮ you kind of want to cry 
✮ you kind of want to throw the laundry at his head 
✮ until 
✮ “rika never did things like this!!”
✮ oh 
✮ of course
✮ it somehow always got back to this point. comparing you with rika 
✮ sometimes he didn’t mean it or even realise he’d done it. but this was different 
✮ you remain eerily calm, putting the laundry down before turning to glare at yoosung 
✮ a wave of realisation hits him and he’s just full of guilt 
✮ you very calmly tell him you’re going to spend the night with jaehee, and ask him not to contact you 
✮ he begins crying and pleading with you to stop and stay 
✮ he’s so sorry and he’s just hating himself while you pack an overnight bag
✮ he’s practically on his knees and following you, begging you to stay 
✮ you kind of pause when you see the raw sorrow in his face 
✮ you sigh and stop for a moment 
✮ you’re hurt but you know that you have to talk it out with yoosung for it to get better 
✮ you both talk for a few hours, and he completely understands your viewpoint and he apologises 18923475829 times 
✮ he stays off of LOLOL for a few weeks, and even after that he tries not to get too obsessed– because that’s how the whole problem started 
✮ he just doesn’t want to lose you 

Jaehee: 

✎ you just wanted her to stop working so much 
✎ she was working overtime at the cafe 
✎ so much that she practically lived there 
✎ she was there after-hours and before-hours 
✎ sometimes she slept there and wouldn’t come home 
✎ so you book a holiday for her in secret, making plans behind her back for the cafe so it can function without her
✎ you tell all the employees and the deliverers who are close with the shop 
✎ but when you sit jaehee down and announce your plan 
✎ she gets so cold 
✎ she wants none of it 
✎ she’s not overworking herself dammit 
✎ she’s just doing what needs to be done 
✎ you try telling her that she doesn’t need to coddle the cafe, that you and the other emplyees were fully capable of running it 
✎ but she’s so worked up 
✎ and she says that you can’t 
✎ you’re clearly offended and you’re upset that your hard work planning this holiday for her is being pushed aside 
✎ somehow, you get her to take the holiday and see how it pans out 
✎ she’s calling you constantly 
✎ eventually you start ignoring her calls and texts 
✎ she gets so freaked out that the cafe is literally crumbling with you in charge so she rushes home 
✎ and you’re so mad when she rushes into the cafe, only to stop when she sees everything is going as usual 
✎ “b-but you weren’t answering my calls! I thought something happened!” 
✎ “jaehee i was ignoring you because you have no trust in me and I was busy making sure you could enjoy your holiday!” you were screaming 
✎ she felt so bad 
✎ she took her vacation and came back a lot better 
✎ you two made up, and she explained that her problem came from being jumin’s assistant for so long (if she didn’t do her job everything fucked up bc jumin is horrible at his job lmao) 
✎ she was a lot more calm after that and took breaks when she needed to (even took some time off on every second weekend- when you took care of the cafe) 

Zen: 

✿ he was working 
✿ of course 
✿ his job was the root of most of your arguments as a couple 
✿ but this time he had gone out for drinks with the cast 
✿ while you were standing outside of a restaurant waiting for him- you were going to have a date since filming was wrapping up that day (which is why the cast was having drinks in the first place) 
✿ you had faith in him, and stayed there until the restaurant closed 
✿ which was very, very late in the evening, seeing as it was part bar 
✿ as you were walking home, upset 
✿ zen came stumbling out of the bar with his castmates 
✿ he doesn’t notice you at first 
✿ until one of his acting buddies points at you, not recognising you, and laughs about how you’re soaked in rain and look like you’ve had that worst day of your life 
✿ you hear him 
✿ zen chuckles slightly before looking closer and realising who it is 
✿ swears up a storm as he pushes away everyone- muttering out something like ‘ssss my girlfirendddd’ 
✿ he tries to grab you because you’re storming away 
✿ he’s trying to coo and ask you why you were out so late because he’s drunk and doesn’t remember 
✿ you slap his hands away before screaming at him 
✿ “I was waiting for you! Our date for celebrating the end of filming?! Guess you had other plans, huh?!” 
✿ he’s so shocked like 
✿ it looks like he’s been smacked in the face 
✿ he follows you all the way home, apologising profusely 
✿ you make him sleep on the couch and lock yourself in the bedroom 
✿ when he wakes up the next morning he remembers, even through his wicked hangover 
✿ he cooks an amazing breakfast and waits for you to come out 
✿ when you do he hands you flowers with a card about how sorry he is
✿ he swears that he’ll make it up to you- and never let it happen ever again 

Jumin: 

₩ he was planning on properly introducing you to his father 
₩ but he was getting so controlling 
₩ he literally dressed you and did your hair and practically gave you a lecture on how to act and what to say 
₩ you’re kind of pissed at him but try to understand that he’s just stressed about how his father will react 
₩ his father loves you, and you loosen up- begin to be yourself 
₩ his father leaves after blessing your relationship together 
₩ but jumin is fuming 
₩ ‘what were you doing?! I told you not to say this or that’ blah blah 
₩ you’re just so shocked 
₩ “jumin that’s not who I am!” 
₩ “that’s who you should be!” 
₩ silence. 
₩ jumin has never been afraid of anything 
₩ but he’s afraid of this silence and the tears that are slipping down your cheeks 
₩ he’s afraid of what he said. he’s afraid of himself 
₩ he stumbles over his words as he tries to apologise, saying that isn’t what he meant 
₩ you can’t hear him though, all you can hear is his previous words echoing through your head 
₩ you tell him you’re sleeping in the guest room that night- the only thing you said before locking him out 
₩ when you get up the next morning 
₩ you open the door and see jumin sitting on the ground agains the wall next to your door, elizabeth pulled to his chest 
₩ his eyes were puffy and his cheeks and nose red 
₩ he had a note next to him that he hadn’t finished 
₩ it read ‘I’m sorry’ over and over, tear stains smudging some of the letters 
₩ you sigh, and kneel down to wake him up 
₩ he explains that he thought his father wouldn’t accept you unless you were like the other women and he didn’t want his father to come between your relationship anymore than he already had with the Sarah bullshit 
₩ and you make up but he spends so long reassuring you that he loves you so much, just the way you are 

Seven/Saeyoung: 

✞ he was doing it again
✞ he was trying to push you away 
✞ someone had approached you while you were on the street, asking about a ‘707′ 
✞ when you told saeyoung he got so scared and reverted back to his old ways 
✞ trying to push you away so that you ‘wouldn’t get hurt’ 
✞ when you try to kiss his cheek he physically pushes you away (after acting hostile all day) 
✞ and you trip over his wires and fall- hitting your head on the ground 
✞ he’s shocked, you’re shocked 
✞ he reaches forward to try and help you but freezes when you flinch away 
✞ he feels like less than shit 
✞ he feels like death himself. the grim reaper- that’s him. 
✞ he watches helplessly as you stumble to your feet and rush off to the bedroom, locking yourself inside (even though Saeyoung had control over the locks) 
✞ he spends about an hour just leaning over his desk with his head in his hands, thinking over how terrible he had been 
✞ how you deserve so much better 
✞ he was unstable. he was dangerous. 
✞ you were the light. you were everything 
✞ after a while he unlocks the door and sends your robot-cat in with flowers and a note in his mouth 
✞ it’s a handwritten letter from saeyoung, telling you he was just scared 
✞ that he was so sorry. that he loved you more than he could ever understand and he didn’t know how to deal with that yet 
✞ you slowly walk out, seeing him sitting on the ground somewhere, surrounded by the mess that he’d made 
✞ he had thrown all the cushions and pillows on the couch. ripped up the first drafts of the note. he’d even knocked one of his monitors to the ground, shattering it.
✞ you sit with him and talk together 
✞ you make a plan for how you can both deal with these times better 
✞ he promises to spend his life making sure you’re as happy as you can be 

V/Jihyun:

☼ i’m so sorry but i don’t want to hurt this precious roll 

@taylor-tut tHIS IS SO LATE I’M SO SORRY MY FAB FRIENDO! But! It has finally arrived!! I’m sorry if it’s a bit crappy, I like haven’t slept in three days haha

anyhoo, onto the story:


Lance woke up with a sneeze.

He blinked his eyes open, immediately groaning at the light that pierced through his eyeballs and into his temples. He brought an arm up to shield his face, shivering slightly. Taking a deep breath, Lance conducted a mental survey of his condition, assessing his apparently numerous ailments that seem to have manifested overnight.

Congested sinuses that dissolved into a throbbing headache that pulsed outward with each movement? Check. 

Raw, sandpaper throat, and lungs that rattled with every inhale? Check.

The strange sensation of being completely, bone-numbingly cold despite the warmth and clamminess of his limbs? Checkerooni.

Conclusion: Today is gonna suck.

If Lance were to be perfectly honest with himself, he would concede that he had been feeling off these last couple days. Nevertheless, the team needed his 100% right now, and any wooziness he may have felt had to be put on the backburner. With several months having passed without any sign of Shiro, tensions within the castle were palpable.  Keith and Pidge seemed inches away from snapping at any given moment, Allura’s training schedule seemed to have been kicked up the several notches from “very harsh” to “dear god I can taste my own pulse”, and even Hunk and Coran seemed somewhat subdued. It was the least Lance could do to try and keep up, and make sure the other’s stayed optimistic. He was the joker, the sharpshooter - it was his role, no matter how taxing it could be on his own body.

Lance steeled himself, counting down from five, before swinging out of his bed, pausing to lean against the wall as a wave of dizziness washed over him. Once the tilt-a-whirl he usually called a bedroom settled to a soft swaying, Lance began to make his way down to the dining hall.

Keep reading

Request: Storm

Request: Can you write one where the reader breaks down to Bobby because she is pregnant with Dean’s baby. Thank you :)

Word Count: 1,069

<3

The rain has been coming down in buckets all night, and the wind whips at the sides of the house in such a way that every now and again, the foundations shake so severely that Bobby nearly ends up waiting out the storm in the panic room.

When he sees the flash of light outside the window followed by a rumble, he isn’t paying enough attention to think of it as anything but another facet of the storm. What he does pay attention to, however, is the frantic, loud knocking that reverberates well beyond the door.

The knocking doesn’t stop until he answers, pulling the door open to be bet with a harsh gust of wind.

“Y/N?” You’re soaked and dishevelled, and he isn’t sure which has smeared your makeup more – the rain, or the tears you’re trying and failing to hold back.

“Can- can I come in?” It’s a stupid question, but it’s the only thing your fuzzy, addled brain can come up with. Bobby doesn’t speak, but he nods, ushering you into the warmth of the house where you grew up and forcing the door closed against the wind.

“What the hell are you doing out in this?” Driving in this weather would be dangerous enough without you being in a complete state. You don’t reply, though, shivering in the hallway and wiping at your face in frustration. It scares him – you’re the closest thing he has to family: he’d raised you since you were six months old and your parents had been killed, leaving no-one to keep an eye on their demon-blood infected child. He’d taken you in, and found that he’d quickly become all too fond of you.

“Y/N, seriously. Where are Sam and Dean?” It must be something to do with them, because it elicits a sob from you, “I don’t want to play twenty questions with you.” He steps forward, resting his hands on your shoulders and pressing an affectionate kiss to your forehead, “Give yourself some time, alright? Go get a shower, get changed. Everything’s fine. Nothing is going to hurt you while you’re here. I’ll make you a hot chocolate while you’re gone, just how you like it. How does that sound?”

To his eternal relief, that manages to get a nod and a weak smile from you, and he pulls you in for a gentle hug before letting you go. He doesn’t look away from you until you’re safely up the stairs, and then sighs to himself – he’s never seen you like this. But you need him, and he’ll be damned if you’re not going to have him to go to.

***

It’s nearly half an hour before he hears you coming down the stairs, but there’s nothing wrong with that – especially when he sees how much better you’re looking. Sure, your eyes are still red-rimmed and you’re still shaking with the effort it takes not to cry, but at least your clothes are warm and dry and your lips are no longer bluish with the cold.

You shuffle into the room and take a seat, swallowing hard before looking up at Bobby. He sets the hot chocolate – piled high with cream, chocolate shavings, and marshmallows – in front of you, and then takes the seat next to yours. The storm outside still batters the windows, but the kitchen is warm, and with the pair of you bathed in warm light, it’s almost cosy.

“Talk to me.” Bobby prompts softly, reaching over and resting his hand over the top of yours. He sees the way you flinch at the gesture, and for a moment he thinks the worst, “Is it Dean? Has he hurt you?” He hadn’t been overly happy when you’d begun dating the eldest Winchester two and a half years ago, but you’d been happy, and Dean had given him a heartfelt promise that his intentions were pure – but Bobby had promised in return that the moment Dean so much as breathed the wrong way at you, he’d find himself without the means to do so again.

“Y/N, sweetheart, I need you to talk to me if you want to fix this.”

“I can’t fix it.” You speak properly for the first time since you stepped into the house, “It’s broken. Very broken.”

“Still with the ambiguous, sweetheart.”

It takes you a few moments to muster up the courage to come out with it, but eventually, you do.

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence, apart from the sounds of the storm outside, fills the room. For a long moment, he can’t find it in himself to speak – and then…

“Do not drink that.” He wraps his spare hand around the mug and slides it away from you, reminded suddenly of the copious amount of whiskey he just dropped into that, “Is it… it’s Dean’s?”

You scoff, “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Of course it is.” Sorrow and bitterness taint your tone in equal measure, and Bobby winces.

“Have you told him?” He tries, and you nod again.

“Yeah. That’s what the second problem is.” You sigh, pulling your hand away from his in order to run your hands over your face, skilfully masking a sob – but not enough. Bobby knows you inside and out, and picks up on it instantly.

“He reacted badly?”

“If saying I’d ruined everything and needed to get the hell out of his sight is reacting badly, then I’d say so, yeah.” You spit, but your voice breaks and before you know it, your head is on his shoulder and you’re sobbing openly into him, everything coming out. He holds onto you tightly, a silent promise that he’ll never let you go; that you always have him.

***

It’s nearly three hours later, by the time he’s managed to calm you down and get you asleep. You’re still asleep on the sofa when his phone rings. He answers, begrudgingly, when he realises who it is.

“Dean?”

“Bobby? Have you heard from Y/N? She’s gone and we’ve been trying to track her all night, but we haven’t found anything.” He rattles off, his voice frantic and shaking.

“Why? What happened?” Bobby asks, watching you sleeping form.

“We got in a fight. I said something stupid. God, Bobby, I’ll never forgive myself if she doesn’t…” He cuts himself off, and swallows hard, “Have you heard from her?”

He pauses, “Nope. Nothing. I’ll let you know if I do.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

Give me a break.

Hii! I know it’s been forever since I wrote something and I’m very sorry. There’s been so much on my mind lately and so many things that made me feel overwhelmed and I just needed to sort it out. This is kind of very loosely based on ‘Love me or leave me’ by Little Mix because someone requested it. I hope you like it. I plan on writing a second part.xxx

“Well, maybe I don’t fucking care anymore!”
It seemed like his booming voice made the whole house vibrate. It seemed like it cut right through Y/N. His words felt like he took a knife and rammed it into her heart and to top it all off he twisted it slowly so the pain had time to spread.
These last weeks felt like nothing but pain for her. He was never home and even when he was he somehow wasn’t. She let him in and he pushed her away. He pushed her so far away she couldn’t feel him anymore.
“Why are you still here then!?”
She had had enough. If he didn’t care anymore he could walk out the door and never come back.
Harry scoffed, turned around and walked up the stairs. When he slammed the bedroom door shut Y/N could feel the last bit of connection between them slipping away completely.
It’s never been this harsh. They slammed doors and yelled hurtful things before but it’s never been like this. Somehow this felt final.
She didn’t know how it happened, how everything between them began to crumble. But it did.
She didn’t feel his loving touch in at least three months. She didn’t hear his loving words in at least three months.
They fought almost every day and when they didn’t fight they didn’t talk to each other at all. Mornings were spent alone and cold, both waking up at their own times without a good morning kiss or a cuddle or anything at all. Nights were even worse. They went to sleep in the same bed but facing away from each other. They never solved their problems before bed. They broke their rule every single night and went to bed angry.
And even though right now Y/N might think it would be better if their paths would part she also knew she wouldn’t recover from it. Harry was the love of her life. She knew she could never be happy without him.
And so she broke down. Ugly sobs and fat tears. The whole weight of the last few months finally got too much and she couldn’t take it anymore. She was sure she’s never cried this much in her entire life. She was sure she never felt so hurt but numb at the same time before.
She didn’t know what the hell went wrong. What she did to push him away. What she did that made him stop loving her.
He doesn’t love you anymore.
Those were the words that constantly replayed in her head, after every fight.
He hates me.
She couldn’t find another explanation. That was the only reason she could think of as to why he wasn’t interested in fixing things between them.

When she met him she was sure he was the most wonderful person she’s ever met. He looked at her as if she was the most important thing on earth. He cooked the most delicious dinner for her. He held doors for her. He made her laugh and feel appreciated.
When she really got to know him she was knocked off her feet. He was the most gentle and loving man she could have ever imagined. He was there for her. He was the place she ran to when the world overwhelmed her. He was her happy place. Her home.
When things got a bit rough they stuck together. They were a team. They faced everything together and fought through it.
Y/N was the happiest girl ever. She thought she found her forever. Her happily ever after.
Until the perfect relationship began to change into great, then good, then normal and then…
Into whatever they had now.
She couldn’t take it anymore. And the worst thing was that there was no way out of this hell. They can’t go back to where they’ve once been. And parting ways? No fucking way could she survive without him.

It was three hours and twenty tissues later when Harry finally exited the bedroom and came down the stairs. Y/N was standing in front of the big living room window which had a view over what seemed like half of London. Her back was turned to Harry, her hair messy and her frame slightly shaking.
She knew that whatever would come now would change everything. She knew that they reached a point were something had to happen. Anything.
Harry took a deep breath and took the last few step towards her. Y/N closed her eyes when she felt his warmth. She hadn’t felt it in so long.
When he reached his hand out thread his fingers through hers she flinched. Harry could feel his heart breaking at her reaction to his touch. He closed the gap between them and pressed his chest flush against her back. That’s when Y/N started to cry again. Her whole body shook with the force of her tears and the whimpers and sobs seemed to get louder with every passing second.
“Shhh.” Harry tried to calm her and finally wrapped his arms around her from behind.
He nuzzled his face into her neck where she always smelled so good and that’s when he realized how long he hasn’t done that.
Y/N moved her arms so she could intertwine both her hands with his. She didn’t remember the last time she held his hand. She used to love his hands so much, always playing with his fingers and kissing his knuckles.
Harry kept pressing tiny kisses to her shoulder and squeezed her tighter to him every time a whimper left her lips.
They stood like that for at least ten minutes before Y/N turned around in his arms and hugged him again. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, his hands stroking softly over her back while her hands were fisting his shirt. She couldn’t get close enough. She needed him closer. Her hands wandered down underneath his shirt to touch his skin. Harry shuddered when her cold hands touched his skin but he knew she needed this. She hasn’t felt his skin in forever. It almost felt foreign.

When they finally pulled away from each other both of them were scared to let go. This couldn’t be it. They needed each other.
“We have to talk, Harry.” she whispered and pressed her forehead against his.
“I know, my love.”
My love. Was she still his love?
She thought he hated her.
They sat down at the kitchen table across from each other. Both of them couldn’t be fast enough to reach out for each other again and when their hands bumped against each other they both laughed softly. For the first time in months.
None of them wanted to be the first to say anything. Until Harry finally couldn’t take the silence anymore.
“I didn’t mean anything that I said earlier. Or… in the last few weeks. God, what is happening with us?”
“I don’t know, Harry. But it can’t keep going like this. I can’t take it anymore.”
“Me neither, love. I know I didn’t show how much it was affecting me but I want you to know that I feel just as broken as you do.”
Broken. Is that what they’ve become?
“I… I thought you hated me. During all these times you pulled away or turned your back towards me, I thought you hated me.”
Harry’s free hand reached out to hers so he could clasp her hand in both of his.
“I never ever hated you. Not for a second. And I never will.”
Y/N felt like a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders and she felt like she could breath again.
“I love you so much, darling.” Harry whimpered.
Her head snapped up so she could look at him and when she saw tears running down his cheek she reached over the table to wipe them away.
“I love you too, Harry. So much.”
Harry removed her hand from his face and pressed gentle kiss to ever knuckle.
“What are we going to do, love? I want to fix this. I want to go back to being the happiest couple ever. I want to go back to being happy with each other.”
“Me too, Harry. God, I’d do everything to get back to what we once had.”
They stared into each other’s eyes until Y/N cleared her throat and diverted her eyes to the table.
“I-I think we need a break.”
Harry’s whole world stopped in that moment. His mouth fell open and his brows furrowed. He pulled his hands from hers and a breathless ‘no’ left his lips.
“No.” He repeated after a moment.
“No way.”
“Harry, listen. I-”
“No!” he shouted.
Y/N flinched and her ears began to ring like every time he raised his voice at her. Her eyes closed and tears began to dribble down her cheeks.
“Do you think I’m stupid? I know exactly what’s going to happen when we do that. You’re going to realize just how unhappy I make you and that you are so sick and tired of me and you’ll never come back. Or you’ll find someone else who makes you laugh more than I ever did. God, I’m going to be gone for two weeks for promo. Is that not enough distance and space for you?!“
“Harry, I need time okay? I need time to take care of myself. I need time for sorting things out. I need time so that this all can work again and if you’re honest, you need it too.”
He laughed humorlessly and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You will have that time when I’m gone.”
“I-I don’t think two weeks are going to be enough.”
His eyes caught hers and she swore she’s never seen him look at her like that. So sad but angry at the same time.
“L-Longer?”
“Two weeks are nothing, Harry.”
“There’s been times when you couldn’t go a single day without me. There’s been times where two weeks without each other seemed like the end of the world.”
She closed her eyes and tried to control the tears which constantly blurred her sight.
“I don’t think we can sort anything out in two weeks.”
“I don’t think we can sort anything out when we’re away from each other.”
“Harry, please.”
He closed his eyes briefly and sighed.
“How long?”
“T-Two months?”
“No fucking way!”
This time it was Y/N’s turn to sigh.
“Harry, I-”
“One month. And not a single day longer.”
She caught his eyes for a moment before she nodded.
“Alright.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, both didn’t know what to say.
“I-I thought I’d stay in a hotel for the two weeks before you’re gone and then I’ll come back.”
“No.”
“Harry,-”
“No. Please, I-… I want to know you’re safe. You’ll stay here and I’ll stay with Gemma.”
“If that’s okay with you.”
“No, it’s actually not.”
She looked at him with the saddest eyes he ever saw and he shook his head and and sighed.
“I’m gonna go pack some stuff and then you won’t have to deal with me anymore.”
“Harry, I did not suggest a break because I want to get away from you as quickly as possible. I want to fix this. And I feel like some distance is the only way to sort things out. Or at least make the first step.”
He didn’t say anything but just left the kitchen and went upstairs to pack a few things. For some reason Y/N couldn’t help but feel guilty. Of course she knew he wouldn’t be happy with taking a break, she wasn’t either. But she hoped he could at least understand where she came from.

When he came down the stairs half an hour later with two big duffle bags Y/N almost felt like crying again. She watched him, how he placed them beside the front door, wiped his tears away, took a deep breath and turned around to make his way to the kitchen so he could say goodbye but she was already standing in the foyer. They stared at each other for a few moments before Harry cleared his throat and removed a greasy strand of hair from his face.
“I’ll go now, I guess.”
“Yeah.” Y/N nodded and sniffled.
He looked at her for another few seconds before he let out a frustrated sigh.
“Can I at least get a hug?”
He saw the surprise on her face but she nodded anyway and took the last few steps towards him. She slung her arms tightly around his neck and pressed her body tightly to his and Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her to his chest. He pressed kisses to her shoulder and neck and stroked over her back in gentle patterns.
When they pulled away a bit Y/N reached up to cup his cheeks and stroke over his skin.
“I love you. Nothing changed about that and nothing is going to change. I don’t want you to worry about me breaking up with you. I couldn’t imagine life without you.”
Harry pressed his forehead to hers and pulled her body even closer.
“Will you say goodbye when I’ll leave for New York? Don’t think I could leave without seeing you before.”
“I’ll think about it, okay?”
Harry sighed but nodded.
“C-Can I kiss you?” he asked her in a whisper.
She leaned in and connected her lips to his as an answer, his bottom lip slipping between hers. She kissed him four times before she pulled away a bit to look up at him again.
“I love you. You know that, right?”
She nodded and smiled softly at him.
“I love you, too.”
Harry gazed into her eyes for another few seconds before he pressed a few gentle kisses against her lips again. He pulled away from her then and took his duffle bags.
“I’ll let you know when I’ll leave for New York. You can call me or come over anytime you need, okay?”
“Okay. You can come over or call as well. Even if it’s the middle of the night.”
He nodded and opened the door.
“Take care, yeah?”
“You too, love.”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
And just like that he left.

→ Paper Doll (pt. 1)

Originally posted by sugutie

☆ pairing → Jungkook x Reader

☆ genre → idol+singer-songwriter!au, drama, slight angst

 warning sexual themes with smut in the next chapters, mentions of past unhealthy relationship 

☆ word count   → 2.1k

summary   → When the nation’s little sister, IU, gets into a huge scandal, your agency seizes the opportunity to thrust you into that now vacant spotlight. Your self-composed song Paper Doll becomes an overnight sensation, and soon people are itching to find out who was the one who broke your heart. All hell breaks loose once netizens discover that you used to date popular idol, Jeon Jungkook. Little do they know that it wasn’t him who left the relationship unscathed –  it was you.

alternatively: a story on the consequences of a hit break-up song

i | ii 


a/n  → so basically this is me being coerced into writing jjk smut 
edit: pt i is more of a prologue



[+11,435; -2,003] this really breaks my image of him… proves how you can’t judge someone from their personality on camera

[+9,386; -1,983] all this time he was pretending to be super innocent haha all those stupid fangirls throwing money at him blindly must be going crazy

[+5,903; -1,234] i mean everyone goes through break-ups, but he was cosplaying as an innocent guy who was scared of skinship with girls all these years.. lmao he’s super shamel–

The words on the screen in front of him all blurred and bled into one big stain. He quickly scrolled through the hundreds and hundreds of comments, each more condemning than the last. A steady pressure was building in his ears, until the only thing he could see or feel were the accusations of a faceless crowd, all jeering at him loudly, fingers pointed.

It was as if his entire life flashed in front of his eyes right then, and he could suddenly recall every inconsequential and significant thing that had shaped his life the past seven years – the hours and hours spent in front of the mirror rehearsing the same steps over and over again, the taste of soggy ramen Hoseok hyung had let overcook last week, the screams of fans, the sound of his alarm clock, the look on your face when you told him it was over. There was no chronology to the kaleidoscope of fleeting glimpses of his past.

“What,” he breathed, hands shaking, eyes wide and disbelieving as his phone fell with a clatter on the table. He desperately wanted to ignore reality, but the stares that were all focused on him kept him grounded to the present.

Of course his first scandal would be linked to you.

Keep reading

Kiss With A Fist

Pairing: BuckyxReader

Warnings:violence, humor, lil bit of smut, lil bit of angst, daddy kink on 10, be ready…

A/N: this fic is inspired by the song Kiss With A Fist by Florence and the Machine

“You dirty fucking bastard!” Bucky’s ears perked up as he heard your footsteps trailing down the hall as you cursed. He can’t help the wide smile that spreads across his face when he sees you approaching him with a face red as a tomato. You stand in front of his chair and scold him.

“Where is it?!?” You cross your arms as you impatiently tap your foot against the hardwood floor of the TV room. Bucky smiles devilishly at you and you know it was him. You know he stole it.

“Hey sugar tits, I don’t even get a hello before you start yelling.” His brow arches, almost as if he’s tempting you.

“Hello, asshole. Now where is it?” You try to calm yourself before you snap.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He grins.

“Cut the shit, Barnes. Where did you put it?” You wondered why he always had to fuck with you. Out of everyone here, why you? You supposed it was because of the fact that you were a bit weirder that everyone else. You like pineapples on your pizza and you mixed your Sprite with lemonade but that didn’t mean that Bucky had to pick on you and only you. It just wasn’t fair.

“I put a lot of things in a lot of places, doll. You’re gonna have to be more specific.” His brows furrowed.

“You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. Now, drop the act and give me back my damn bear!” Your voice gradually got louder as Bucky continued to try your patience.

“Ohhh that bear that you sleep with every night like a five year old? Yeah it might have accidentally gotten thrown in with the trash after I cleaned the kitchen. You know, you really shouldn’t leave your stuff just lying around all willy nilly.” He surfs the tv channels as your eye twitches with rage. “Could you move, sugar, you’re blocking the television.” He clears his throat and takes a swig from the beer bottle in his hand.

You lose it and yank the bottle from his hand, smashing it against the head rest on his chair, glass falling all over him, causing him to flinch.

“I’m gonna give you five seconds to tell me where the fuck my bear is, Barnes.” You voice shakes.

“Or what?” He smirks, dusting off the broken glass from his lap and standing up, the two of you now standing chest to chest. Or… face to collarbone, considering your smaller height.

You tackle him to the ground, wrapping your hands around his neck and choking him, not planning on stopping until his face turns blue.

Suddenly you hear footsteps and soon Steve is standing above you trying to pull you off of Bucky. It was difficult for him considering you had a strong grip around Bucky’s neck, his eyes beginning to glaze over as his face turns red.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” You shake him in your grasp before Steve finally pulls your hands from around his throat.

“You crazy bitch!” Bucky chokes out, gasping for air as he starts to stand.

“What’s the meaning of all this?!” Steve asks, still holding you back as tears threaten to spill from your eyes.

“He threw away my bear!” You screamed through angry tears.

“All this for a goddam bear? You almost murdered me you fucking psycho!”

“It was not just a bear! That bear has been my safe haven ever since I was a kid! That bear has been there for me when no one else has! That fucking bear kept me from my nightmares and you took it away from me, Bucky why?! Why do you alway have to mess with me I’ve done nothing to you! It’s not fair!” You yank yourself away, pushing Bucky at full force, making him stumble backwards a bit before catching his balance, his mouth agape as you stormed out of the room walking to lord knows where

“What the hell, Buck?” Steve walks towards him. “You can’t just do things like that to people. Not everyone is like us. This generation is soft. They need things like that to keep them going. Let’s not forget that you have nightmares too.” Steve scolds him as he holds his hands on his hips. Bucky knows Steve is right, he just didn’t think it was so serious.

“I… I didn’t know.” Bucky sits there, feeling guilty as he stares at the floor. Steve scoffs and begins to make his way toward the room’s exit.

“Well you better fix this Bucky. Before she burns your room to the ground with you in it.”

________

You take a walk around the city, damn near looking in every dumpster you saw to see if your stuffed bear was there, but no luck. So you headed back to the tower and took a shower, hoping the hot water would calm your nerves.

You really didn’t understand why Bucky did these types of things to you and it made you so angry that he hated you, especially when you’d never done a thing to him. Except fight him whenever he messed with you.

You got out of the shower and dried yourself, putting your towel in the hamper and opening the door to enter your room. However, you didn’t see Bucky sitting on your bed until you heard a manly yell fro the center of your room. Your eyes darted over to where he sat, covering his eyes as you screamed and tried to cover what you could with your hands.

“Why are you naked?!?” He screamed, still covering his eyes.

“Why are you in my room?!?” You hurried to your closet and snatched a long sleeved shirt from a hanger, luckily it was Steves and it hit your mid thigh.

“Well I wanted to apologize for stealing your bear and…” You looked see why he trailed off and saw your scuffed up, black teddy bear in his hands.

Without a second thought you ran to your bed snatched the bear from his grasp, hugging it tight before you wrapped Bucky in your arms as well. Bucky was stunned at first but wrapped his strong arms around your body, smiling as your wet hair damped his shirt.

“Thank you!” You held onto him, stuffing your face in his warm chest, inhaling his scent as he held onto you as tight as you did to him.

You stayed like that for a few minutes before you realized that he was the one who took your bear in the first place. With that, you pulled away and slapped the hell out of him with your right hand.

“Why did you lie about throwing it away you bastard? And why did you steal it in the first place?!” You pushed him back, sitting up on the bed with your bear in your left hand. He blinked a few times before answering, almost as if he didn’t really have an explanation.

“I don’t really know…I just… I guess I wanted to see how you’d react, in a way… I wanted you to be mad at me, if that makes sense. The only time you really give attention to me, is when you’re angry at me. I don’t why but, I think you’re so fucking sexy when you’re mad, sugar. Sometimes, I get so damn hard just knowing that you’re pissed at me.” Bucky couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. But in a way, it’s a relief considering he’s never even admitted any of this to himself. “So I guess I just kinda do things to piss you off in hopes that maybe one day you’ll do something about it.” His eyes trail from her eyes to her lips and stay there as he bites his bottom one.

“Oh.” You stare down at the stitches in your bed and think about what he just said, trying not to make it obvious that the sheets under you are soaking slowly.

“Can I kiss you, doll?” You look up at him as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and brings his palm to your cheek as he scoots closer, making your hart beat faster.

You lean forward to place a quick pec on his lips, before you could pull away he grabbed your waist and pulled you against his chest, kissing your jawline and your neck.

You fully straddle him and gently yank him back by his hair, nuzzling your face into his beard before nipping his scruffy cheek.

“Fuck, honey.”

You grab his chin and tilt his head downwards to make him look into your eyes.

“Be quiet.” You begin to unbuckle his belt and tug his pants down his legs before taking off his shirt, leaving him in just his underwear. You reach down to caress his length in your palm, watching as his becomes flustered, staring at your hand, his breathing steady, his cheeks red.

That wasn’t good enough for you.

You pushed his torso back, making him lay down before you planted kisses all the way down his body to his boxers. He sat up on his elbows to watch you, waiting for you to take them off. Instead, you slide your tongue along his clothed bulge, causing Bucky to shiver.

“Fuck, baby stop teasing, please.” His brows furrowed upwards as he bucked his hips up towards your face. You slap his thigh and run your teeth along his bulge, looking him straight in his lust blown eyes as he whimpers silently.

“You’ll get what I give you, James.” He groans, his head tilting back at the name you called him. You like this. A lot. You like having such a powerful man melting in the palm of your hand with just a the simple snap of a finger.

You pulled his stiff cock out of his underwear and took a long ogling look at it before making a move. It was thick and long, had veins protruding out all around the soft, milky shaft. His throbbing red tip, dripping with pre cum. You squeezed his balls, inspecting them as well, feeling just how big and juicy they are, not even realizing that Bucky was staring at you the whole time, with a smirk on his face as you finally locked eyes with him.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He taunts as you clear your throat and get back to the task at hand. You start to tug on his cock slowly, letting the pre cum slick up your movements. You bring your mouth to his tip and circle it with your tongue before sucking on it, licking his dripping slit as you watch his reaction, still cupping his balls in your other hand.

His breathing is getting heavier, his plump lips are parted and his brows are arched, his eyes glazing over as you pull him in deeper, almost letting his tip hit the back of your throat before you pull back up, teasing him just a bit more, letting him know who’s still in charge.

“Goddammit, sugar take me all the way.” He whined, bucking his hips up towards your mouth again.

You finally decide to quit teasing him and sink your mouth all the way down his throbbing cock, taking in a deep breath before you pull him the rest of him into your throat until your nose hits the tuft of hair at his base. His right hand reaches up to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

“Fuckin hell,” he gasps as he feels your throat convulse around him. His eyes roll back as you slowly wrench him from your throat, saliva stringing from his dick to your lips as you lift yourself from him.

You wipe your mouth as you jerk him off at a steady pase, his bucking up into your hand as you lock eyes.

“God, I can’t fuckin do this anymore,” he pulls your hand from his dick and yanks you from your position on the bed to straddle him, his wet cock pressing into your pussy folds. “I need to be inside you, sugar. Can I?” He rubs his dick against your pussy, making it hard for you to say no. You nod your head and that’s all he needs to lift you and take his cock into his hand, pumping it a few times before slowly sinking into you. You wince silently, trying not to show that his size is stretching you to the point where it’s painful.

“Fuck you’re tight.” He growls, laying down and placing his hands on your hips, letting you take control. He sees your eyes prickling with tears as he finally bottoms out, causing you to let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Shit, why didn’t you tell me i was hurting you?” He sits up immediately, bringing his hands to your cheeks, wiping your fallen tears with his thumb before pressing reassuring kisses to your lips. “We need to stop honey, I don’t want you to be in pain.” He rubs your lower back with his metal hand as you take deep breaths, shaking your head. He attempts to pull out before you put your hands on his chest push him to lay down, forcefully, his eyes widening as you start to move.

“No. I like it when it hurts a little.” You slowly lift yourself up and down his cock, hissing because of the prominent sting sprung from your core as he sits there, taken aback by your sudden dominance.

“Fuck, doll.” His head rolls back, his back falling to the bed before he brings his hands to your hips, attempting to push up into you faster than you were riding him.

You grabbed his wrists and pinned them to the bed, leaning down to kiss his neck, your breasts pressed flushed against his chest, as you sucked hard on his jaw.

“S-shit,” Bucky cursed. You looked up, rolling your hips a bit quicker, watching his red, blissed out face change to furrowed brows and an almost bleeding bottom lip from how hard he was biting it. “Fuck yes,” he whimpered as you changed pace and sped up. “You gonna take over me, sugar? Ride me for all I’m worth? Make me cum inside ya?”

“Yes, daddy!” You whine accidentally, pausing in neck as you stop your hips, releasing his wrists as you sit up you didn’t mean for it to slip but you just couldn’t help it. He just felt so damn good. “I-I’m so sorr-”

You’re cut off by Bucky slamming his lips against yours, flipping the both of you over and rolling his hips against yours, grinding his pelvis against your clit, making you whimper.

“You like it when daddy takes you like this, sugar?” He panted against your neck, pulling his hips all the way back until his tip was the only thing inside you before he slams his hips into yours, triggering your g-spot head on.

“Oh fuck!” You wrap your legs tight around his hips.

“Answer me,” he whispered, biting into your neck. Bucky unwrapped your legs from around his waist, letting your knees bend as he pushed your thighs apart. He wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed a little on the sides.

“I said fucking answer me.” He squeezed a little harder and fucked you a little rougher.

“Yes.” You whispered, your eyes rolling back as your mouth gaped open. He spanked your thigh and slowed down his pace, still slamming into you but not as quick as before.

“Yes what, sweetheart?” Bucky caressed your neck as he waited for your response, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek while he teased you.

“Yes daddy.” You stared him in the eyes and let out a quiet but shaky breath.

“That’s my girl,” he leaned down to kiss your neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum daddy harder!” You tangle your hands into his hair. Bucky kissed you softly, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He slows his hips down to at least one soft yet deep thrust every five seconds

“You’ll get what I give you, sugar.” He smirks, his breathing getting heavier. He flips the both of you over and grips your waist, thrusting up into you hard and fast, just how you like it. Bucky’s thumb makes its way to your clit to rub in tight circles.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you whisper, your head pointed towards the ceiling as you lean back and lay your hands on his thighs, spreading yourself out more.

“What was that, sugar?” He reaches up with his metal hand to gently grasp your breast, toying with your nipple while rubbing your clit faster with his flesh and blood hand. You whimper, unable to speak as your high creeps up on you. “You’re gonna cum for me? You’re gonna cum all over my cock?” He grunts, his thrusts getting harder.

And just like that, it hits you. Your vision turned spotty and everything goes slow-mo. Heat rises up through your core and makes its way to your face, causing your cheeks to flush and your back to arch. You squirm and shake against Bucky as you cum, your eyes rolling back as your climax hits it’s full peak. It sprouts through you like a roots would through dirt, slow but beautiful. You cry out Bucky’s name as his thrusts don’t let up, your nails digging into his flexed torso. This is the hardest you’ve ever came and its consuming you, taking you into darkness as you suffocate from the undying pleasure.

You start to shy away as it becomes to much, trying to pull away from him as you tremble. Bucky didn’t like that.

“No.” He growled, pulling you down to lay chest to chest against him. “You don’t get to leave until daddy fills your pretty little pussy with his cum, understand?” You nod your head, hiding your face in his sweaty neck. He smacks your ass with his metal hand, which makes you bite into his collar bone as you let out a whimper.

“Yes.” You whimper, panting as you move your hips against him. You weren’t expecting him to grab you by the hair snd yank you back to look him straight in his
steel blue eyes.

“Yes what?” He slows down the movement of his hips, tightening his grip on your hair.

“Yes daddy.” You whisper. He thrusts into you once, hard but deep. So deep it knocks the air from your lungs.

“Louder,”

“Yes daddy!” Your cracked voice shouts.

“Good girl.” He kisses your lips and let’s go of your hair, lifting you off of him a sitting up on his knees, shifting you to lay on your stomach before he pushes your upper body down towards the bad, letting your back arch. Bucky lines himself up with you once again before laying his hands on your hips and thrusting slow. “You’re my good girl aren'cha? You’re my good little girl.” Hi mumbles as he increases the speed of his thrusts, laying his metal hand on your lower back for support. He leans down to lay on you, lowering you down on the bed, holding himself up on one elbow as the other one stays on your hip.

“Fuuuck,” you growl as he sinks deeper into you, hitting your g-spot.

“You like that baby?” Bucky leans on his forearms, kissing your neck as he talks dirty in your ear. “You like getting fucked slow like this? You like suckin in every inch I give to this greedy little pussy? Dirty little girl.” He pumps into you faster, his breathing picking up as he grunts into your neck.

“Oh fuck, honey your pussy’s so damn good.” He praises you, nibbling on your ear. He reaches underneath you and rubs your clit, trying to get you to cum before he does. “You gonna let me fuck you from now on? Gonna sleep with me? Gonna let me be your teddy bear?” Buck bites into your shoulder.

“Yes daddy.”

“You gonna be my good girl from now on, sugar?” You feel his cock pulse inside of you, signaling that he’s close.

“Yes, daddy.” You promised to him as you came again, moaning out his name as he thrusters into you mercilessly

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby girl you’re squeezin me so damn tight.” He hides his face into your neck, almost whining as he feels you clench around him. “I’m cumming… fuck! Take it, take it, take it!” He chants, growling as he fills your pussy with his release, some spilling out of you as he keeps thrusting. He slows his hips down to a stop after you’ve milked him dry, collapsing on top of you, holding some of his weight on his forearm while he pants heavily against your neck, holding you close as his hips twitch every few seconds.

“You okay, baby?” You ask when your breathing has finally slowed down.

“Yeah… I just need a minute.” You can hear the grin in his words as he kisses the love bites he left all over your neck and shoulders.

“What happened to that super soldier stamina I was promised?” You giggled as he bit you playfully.

“I made you cum twice, sugar, you could at least give a guy a break.” Bucky playfully smacked your ass before he slowly pulled out, backing up a bit to watch his cum leak down your thighs. “Shit,” he cursed as he spread your asscheeks, looking at the way his release mixed with yours and dripped out of you. You smirked as you gently clenched your pussy, pushing some of his cum out of you.

“Dammit, sugar don’t get me goin’ again.” He chuckled as he got up to use the restroom. Your eyes drifted closed as you laid down flat on your stomach and let sleep take over you.

Bucky comes back with a warm wet towel and smiles as he catches you sleeping. He quietly makes his way over to the bed and cleans your thighs and your pussy before putting the towel into the dirty clothes hamper and laying down next to you, pulling the fluffy white comforter over the both of you and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to him before kissing your temple, hoping he’ll fall asleep tonight instead of staring at your beautiful sleeping face. He smiles as you wrap your arms around him and hold him in your sleep. Just like a teddy bear.

At that moment Bucky realizes that he’s falling hard for you. He just hopes you’ll feel the same when he finally confesses.

________
A/N: Bucky gave her that “go to sleep” dick
Tags: @gaybybirth

Horror

Pairing: Peter x Reader

Requested by @spiderzenslaya

Warning:


Clint has created a chatroom.

Clint has added Peter, Y/N, Steve, Thor, Natasha, Vision, Sam, Wanda.

Clint: Anyone up to watching a horror movie?

Natasha: Your face is a horror movie.

Natasha: And yes, I’d love to see a horror movie.

Clint: Awww I didn’t know you love seeing my face ;)

Peter: I’m in, if Y/N’s in.

Y/N: I’m in if Peter’s.

Peter: oh no

Peter: my message delivered first!

Y/N: dammit!

Y/N: Decide!

Peter: No, you decide!

Y/N: Do you want to watch a horror movie or not?!

Peter: Only if you’re there!

Steve: Oh for crying out loud, I order both of you to watch the damn movie.

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