please stop aching


Originally posted by hermosadani

A/N: omgomgomg after a billion years I finally finished my first full length fic *applause* Anyways ty to the beautiful network of people that are the #1 hype squad @smols-n-tols. I hope you guys enjoy~

Pairing: NCT’s Ten x Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff/Slight Humor? Just Another Soulmate!AU ™

Word Count: roughly 4k

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i’m honestly so sick of angsty drarry fics

  • give me draco giggling into harrys mouth
  • give me forehead kisses in front of their friends
  • give me loud arguments about miscellaneous things that are useless and funny instead of being malicious
  • give me them picking out bed sheets and curtains
  • give me a fic where they get together because they laugh and have a good time instead of because they’re both attracted to each other because they’re so much more
  • give me dancing in their underwear
  • i want harry to make stupid puns and draco to try holding his mouth shut “because my sides are aching please stop”
  • give me draco learning how to work a blender with lots of laughing and newlywed smiles
  • give me draco and harry gardening
  • give me pillow fights and draco stealing the sheets and harry fixing the floo and foot massages and them telling each other about their day

give me something besides the “blah blah our love is forbidden” because they don’t love each other because it’s forbidden, they love each other because they understand each other, they make each other laugh, and they’re honestly all the other one has ever wanted

The Joker x Reader - “Valentine’s Day”

You two say it to each other once a year. Even then, it can be really tough to get it out of him. Why is it so easy for you to say it but not for The Joker?!

The Joker is sitting in his favorite chair, dreading the imminent moment that will come shortly.

“All right, handsome, it’s that time of the year again,” you skip towards him and he gets out of trance. You straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He growls, rolling his eyes:

“Oh, no, Kitten, is it really?”

“Yeap, so here it comes, brace yourself, don’t faint on me: I LOVE YOU. Muahhhh!” you kiss him, glad you got the chance to do this again. “Now your turn!”

“Oh, God, nooo,” J whines, resting his pale forehead on yours. “Do I really have to?!”

“It’s only one time a year, baby, you’re not going to die from it.”

“But we don’t say mushy stuff to each other,” he complains some more, starting to kiss your neck because he sooo wants to get out of this.

“NO! You have to say it! Come on, baby, can’t you make your girl happy?” you pout, yanking on his green hair, this way you can stare in his blue eyes you like so much.

“Don’t I always make you happy?” he scoffs, biting his lower lip with a confident look on his face.

“Weeelll, I… guess,” you debate, thinking for a moment.

“Hey, watch it!” he slaps your butt, pretending to be offended.

“Don’t try to change the subject, say it! Come on, pleeeeseee, I really want to hear it,” you beg, fakely sobbing because he’s getting on your nerves. He does this every year.

“Dammit, woman, this is not cool, I just want to put it out there,” he talks in a deep voice, being sure he will have a stroke or something soon. J then takes a deep breath and mumbles: “ I love you, with such a painful grimace on his face you start feeling obnoxious. You’re sure he would rather get shot 10 times before uttering those words he hates so much.

“Are you OK?”  you sarcastically inquire, pretending to be concerned about his labored breathing. ”That took a lot of effort, huh? Didn’t even really hear it. Say it clearly so I can understand.”
“Hell, no, Princess,” he pants, sensing he’s starting to sweat from the ordeal.

“What’s the big deal? You don’t even know what it really means anyway,” you furrow your eyebrows, disappointed.

The Joker gasps, irritated:

“Whaa’ ? I totally know what it means!”
“Oh, yeah, baby? What does being in love mean?”

He frowns, searching for the words in his mind. Shit, it’s so hard, why does he have the impression this is a test he’s gonna fail?

“Well, Pumpkin,” he blinks slowly, planting a quick kiss on your cleavage, “it’s that…weird feeling you get in your stomach and it hurts and…it’s uncomfortable. See? At least I know this much.”

You pucker your lips, aggravated:

“Baby, you just described indigestion.”

He looks so puzzled:

“No fucking way, Princess!”

“Yes way,” you whimper. Why does he have to be like this?!


“Oh, yeah, admit it.”

“No kitten, I nailed it. And you’re totally wrong.”    Oops, that slipped.

You green eyes darken.

“I am never totally wrong, Mister Jaayy!” you call him by his full nickname, emphasizing it, which means you’re pissed.

He snarls, pinching you.

“Hey, don’t get grouchy on me Princess. Daddy doesn’t like it.”
“Then say it like you mean it for once, my God, why are you so difficult all the time?!”

He gulps and gathers all his strength, holding to your waist so hard it almost makes you unable to breathe, but you understand his struggle and pretend not to notice.

“I love you,” J blurs it out clearly, collapsing his head in your cleavage, exhausted.” Jesus, woman, you’ll be the death of me, you’re so demanding,” he grumbles and you stroke his hair, excited you got your way. It wasn’t perfect, but it really is the best he can do.

“There, there, baby, you’re OK, I got you, I think you survived this year also,” you kiss his forehead, lifting his chin up.

“You think so? It nearly killed me,” he sniffles, teasing you. In the same time it’s kind of true.

“My poor baby,” you sweetly whisper, kissing him softly, “doing this for his girl.” You kiss him again. And you see a faint smile on his lips. “I do appreciate the sacrifice”(kiss) “and the torment you have to survive on a yearly basis.” You kiss him and bite his lip too.

“Damn right,” he agrees, closing his eyes, savoring you pampering him.

“Nobody is ever that super nice to his girl, you know that baby?” You take your top off and throw it on the floor. The Joker starts purring with a huge grin.

“U-humm,” he agrees, squeezing your body even closer to him. You grind your hips against his, taunting him. You start tracing his Jester tattoo, trying not to giggle when you feel it.

“My, my, what’s this, baby? Is it your gun or are you happy to see me?”

He lets out a devilish laugh and you sense his hand going down to his pocket, searching around.

“I think it’s both, Kitten,” he winks, delighted.

“You’re lucky you’re sexy…well, for a jerk, I mean…AUCH!” He gropes you, grumbling:

“Ssstttt, stop talking, you’re ruining the magic,” J takes one of your bra straps off your shoulder and kisses it, then goes up to your neck, uncontrollably breathing on your skin.

“Yes! Oh, yes, I can feel my stomach hurting, must be love. Ahhhh, it hurts soooo bad,” you snicker, making fun of him.

“Shut up, I don’t sound like that…Do I…?”

“Nooo way, baby, you are always so romantic,” you roll your eyes, amused.

“I know,” he shamelessly admits and takes credit for crap he doesn’t do. You stare at each other for a few more seconds and you just have to say it:

“I love you, you jerk; I really do,” and the tone in your voice changed to a serious one.

J coughs up a storm and clenches his fist to his chest:

“I can’t take another I love you, I hope it counts for next year,” he coughs some more, pretending to be in pain.

You cup his face and kiss him roughly, this way he shuts it down.

“I’m being very serious, J , I really love you, you…you… pain in the ass!”
One glance at the expression on your face and he realizes it’s time to cut it out.

He brings his lips to your ear and whispers:

“Do you think I don’t know? I love you too, and this one counts for next year’s so don’t try to get it out of me when the time comes.”

Your heart beats so fast; this, you didn’t expect: something more real for once, but you kind of have to pay him back for all the shit so you start coughing.

“I think I’m dying, I can’t handle this mushy stuff, baby! It’s too much, please stop! My stomach, it’s aching again. All this love…ewwwww.”

“Stop.Being.Sassy.Doll.” J slaps you after each word, glad he got everything out of the way and made it alive.

Your grip around his neck intensifies and he takes you other bra strap off your shoulder with his silver teeth, getting into his naughty mood.

“Don’t stop,” you moan, enjoying his touch and J starts purring again.

“Jerks never stop, Doll.” He leans over to kiss you, totally smitten with the way you look at him.

It must be love.

(Or that stomach- ache-love- thing he was talking about.)



Summary: One of the things you’re most self-conscious about comes up in an interview, and JB comforts you afterwards.

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Length: 2151

Ship+scenario requested by @uglyduckling13

You looked around the stage after finishing your performance with your group and smiled. Not only did you love singing and hip hop dancing, you also loved the cheers that erupted after your performance, telling you how loved your group was and all the hard work you guys went through was worth it. You just wanted the feeling to last for as long as possible, because you knew the moment you stepped off the stage, the feeling would begin to fade.

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If you get to see the person you love daily or near-daily, please appreciate that
Please know how lucky you are and appreciate every moment you get with them
Because not everyone is that lucky

Dear bones, please stop aching. Please stop shaking when it’s cold at night, it’s making people think I’m crying.
Dear bones, please stop making it look like I’m breaking.
Dear bones, how are you so lonely beneath my skin? How are you so scared, wrapped in all that blood and meat?
Dear bones, you’ve never been safer than you are right now. This knife’s too blunt to cut through the skin, let alone start carving.
Dear bones, I can hear you rattle in the dark as I toss and turn, why are you keeping me awake?
Dear bones, won’t you ever rest?

There’s a crematorium in my chest where my heart burns constantly for the dead. Set fire to the tinder, and my miserable marrow will melt. I’m armed to the teeth with prayers and the taste of bullets, metallic on my tongue, and stinging. Fear curls around my throat like fingers, and I’m choking on emptiness, in the bed where I drank away my youth. And my trigger is ready.

There are cobwebs tangled in my skeleton, dancing to the breeze of my heart. My pulse, my weak pulse. It’s barely beating but it’s big enough to grind me down to dust. I’m a broken machine covered in grime and rust. My poor heart is hidden and so weak in its hurting, it’s so worn down by my wasteful writing and wording. It remembers every victim, it remembers every martyr, it remembers every body hidden behind the curtains.

Dear bones, please stop aching.
Dear bones, won’t you ever rest?

—  giraffevader - “Oh boy, you’re just a bag of bones. Those dear bones.”