shake your bones

anonymous asked:

A Hanzo x Reader where some guys try to hit on the reader and Hanzo gets all jealous and protective of them? I love your blog so so much and it's inspired me to try making one of my own, so thank you! :D

Originally posted by lookinggrim

Hanzo is such a beautiful man fuck me dude Honestly, I got excited for this ask cause I live for protective Hanzo hc. Thank you so much for requesting it and for liking my blog!<3 I’m so sorry this took a while to post.

Send your requests here. (Requests are currently closed as I’m getting through the ones I have.)

“I’m a bit surprised you agreed to come out with me.” You sip from your cup, marveling at the cherry blossoms Hanamura had to offer. He looks a bit taken back by the statement but brushes it off quickly.

“And why is that?” He asks crossing his arms over his chest. You turn to him, taking another sip of your tea. This time, however, it is loud and more of a slurp. You giggle as you note a small twitch of irritation in his eye.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but your rather reserved.” You titter while placing the cup down.

“It was how I was raised.” He points out, fingers reaching for his own cup. “A tough habit to grow out of really.” He looks at you as he drinks. A loud slurp emanating over the rim of the cup. You shake your head laughing at his silliness.  The sound of your laugh shakes his bones while a warmth fills his stomach. His smile is full of pride. There’s some sort of gratification from being the one to make you laugh.

“You’re really something, Hanzo.”

“I shall take that as a compliment.” He tips his cup in your direction like a toast. You laugher dies down, a comfortable silence fills the air around you. The smell of tea and sweets sweeps through the breeze, the small shop buzzing with business inside.

“I was speaking with Genji the other day.” You speak calmly, eyes trained on how the flowers sway with the wind. “I wanted to learn more about Hanamura.”

He frowns, a bit insulted. Why had you not come to him? He would have gladly told you everything there was to know. The sights, the sounds, and everything you could imagine to question.

“He told me about this arcade place not too far from here.” You look at him, expectantly. He knows which one you speak of immediately. It was a place where Genji often went to waste his time instead of working on his duties. “I wondered if you wanted to go?”

Hanzo frowns. “Why did you not ask him to take you?” There’s more malice in his voice than he meant. He did not mean to let his jealousy spill. He clears his throat in an attempt to mask his slip up.

You, however, seem unfazed. “Because I want to go with you.”

Suddenly, he feels a bit childish.

“Ah,” He pauses, toying with the rim of his teacup. He finds himself at a loss for words. Rummaging his head for something say. Should he apologize? Should he simple ignore his sudden spite of words and continue.

You look him over, his face stoic but his eyes show his internal struggle. “Something the matter?”

Hanzo shakes his head before giving you a small smile. “No,” He tries his will at hiding his excitement. It’s a bit hard but he manages for his sake. “I would like that. You wish to go today?”

You nod at him with a smile.

“Very well,” He moved to stand, grabbing his jacket while doing so. “I will go pay for our meal. Then we can head over.” He sees the way your face lights up, a smile pulling onto his lips much more prominently.

It takes him but a moment to reach the counter and pay for the two of you. He thanks the cashier and waiter as he exits back to meet you outside. However, what he sees before him has his boiling. There is a group of three men surrounding you. The leader had moved to place his arms around you as his friends stalk you like vultures. You laugh awkwardly as they continue to pester you with questions and comments.

He takes a deep breath to compose himself. Something within him festers but he moves to swallows his anger. He cannot- will not- stand still as these men pester at you with hungry looks and wandering hands. In an instant, he is at your side. The grace of his footsteps fall silent to their ears but his presence is loud enough to demand their attention away from you. He takes your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours effortlessly.

“My dearest,” The roughness of his facial hair prickles your skin. “Forgive for taking long. There was a line to pay.”

You’re a bit baffled by his actions. Hanzo never having been so forward and affectionate with you even during your back and forth flirtations. That is when the reality of the what he is doing it hits you and you decide to play along.

“Oh Babe, don’t worry these men were keeping me company while I waited for you.” You motion over to the men with feigned smile. “See fellas, I told you my boyfriend would be back.”

Hanzo looks over to the men with a look of malice clear in his eyes. They are much larger than him in stature and in height. He, of course, does not falter. His hand grips at your hip pulling you into him protectively. His action causes you to be pulled away from one of the man’s intrusive arm and into Hanzo’s embrace.

“Hah, this is your boyfriend?” One of the men pipes in, looking Hanzo over rather unimpressed. Hanzo simply smiles. It is not gentle nor sweet. It is not a smile he gives you when you joke and play around. It is full of impatience and irritation as they all laugh at him.

“You find that funny?” Hanzo raises a brow, and the man stops to stare at him. The stranger scoffs. He moves closer to the two of you. Hanzo eyes him carefully, instinctively moving to unravel the hand on your hip. He brings it in front of you, gently herding you to stand behind him and away from the approaching offender.

“And if I do?” He asks while straightening his stance. You almost laugh as the leader of the three men tries to make himself more intimidating. His buddies do little but look a bit lost. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Hanzo,” You place a hand on his shoulder as you notice a crowd begin to form. “Let’s just go.”

He looks over his shoulder at as you shoot him a pleading glance. A wave of wretch and regret flushing him as he sees the emotion on your face. Has he taken this too far?

He nods, not sparing glance at the man before him as he turns to walk away. “You really going to leave with this guy, baby?” The man calls after you. “Come on now, I can show you a much better time.” For the second time, the man reaches out to grab at you.

In an instant, Hanzo has him bent over backwards. The strangers offending arm held at an odd and uncomfortable angle as he cries out in pain. Hanzo leans in, looming over him with a dangerous aura. Though, the crowd of people watching are a bit scared at the action, you can’t help but notice how striking his features are.

He looks handsome as is, even gorgeous when he smiles. However, now as his face is hardened, eyes trained with danger, something about it fills the pit of your stomach with excitement.

Damn, he really is something.

“Leave us.” He pushes the man in front of him before letting go of his arm. His friends jerk a few steps back trying to avoid being toppled. The two accomplices go to assist their leader regain himself while nursing his strained arm. He glares a them once last time before taking your hand in his once more. “Come, let us go.”

You’re a bit shocked at the display that just occurred before you. You follow not too far behind him as he guides you through the crowds with ease.

“Hanzo.” You call to him, but he makes no notion to stop. He’s walking much faster than you can keep up with. “Hanzo!”

The way he suddenly stops has you almost colliding into him.

You’re a bit out of breath by how fast he had been pulling him along but give him a reassuring smile. His face looks a bit heartbroken by the gesture and before you know it he pulls you along once more. It’s not long before you’re in an alley between what looks like a ramen shop and an apartment complex. The light of a vending machine illuminating the small space as the sun begins to set. He pulls you to stand in front of him, his hand never leaving yours as he begins to speak.

“Forgive me.” He starts, you cannot hear it but his heart beats rapidly in his chest. “I could not control myself. The way those men looked at you, with such lingering eyes.” He huffs, not realizing he is fuming. The light of his tattoo glowing while he speaks. “He even grabbed at you! I should have done more than just twist his arm. I should have broken it.”

You watch as he seethes to himself, his eyes everywhere but you. Your hand is still in his as you raise it to lightly place a kiss on his knuckles. Immediately, he stops. A blush forms on his cheeks as he finally turns his attention to you very suddenly.

“Thank you, Hanzo.” You smile sweetly at him, his face warms even more by the sight of it. “Come on, let’s go to the arcade.” You lead him out of the alley, before motioning him to continue the rest of the way. He does so silently. You walk a good block or so, still hand in hand, before you speak up once more.

“Jealousy looks good on you, by the way. Your face does this thing that’s kinda attractive.” He scowls, you almost break into laughter when you notice how it’s more of a pout.

“I was not jealous.” He quips back as you swing his and your hand back and forth as you both walk together.

You giggle, his face flushing red at the compliment. “If you say so.”

bad | 03

 He was the cliché bad boy. He was the guy you couldn’t stand. He was the handsome, hot kid who made girls go weak in the knees. He was a brat. You had never liked him one bit, but you had also never gotten involved with anything concerning him. Until one day, when you were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

Originally posted by sugutie

MEMBER: jeon jungkook x reader

GENRE: romance, smutish, fluff

WORDS: 2 856

WARNINGS: badboy!jungkook, cussing, mature

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07coming soon ↠ 

A/N: I enjoy writing this, so the fact that you guys like it makes me so happy. thank you to everyone who sent a nice message, it means so much

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30; badboy!yoongi

i love you (30)
p: a gentle ‘i love you’ whispered into a soft kiss, followed by a stronger kiss

yoongi was a person that showed his emotions rather than talk about them. well, it depends on the situation and his mood. on most days, it’ll be recorded in a book he carries with him, sometimes keyed into his note application in his phone and on others, expressed out via actions because he’s a firm believer that action speaks louder than words.

there are many pros that comes with it but there are cons as well, like anything in life.

the good points are that you can trust he’ll make it a must to show you the things he feels. never ever would you take for granted his words because they mean as much as his actions - so the things he say weigh more considering he doesn’t use words as a catalyst to his affection.

the bad points… well… if you had to pinpoint one, it would be communication was key in a relationship. and while yoongi has been nothing but a great and honest boyfriend (regardless of the matter at hand, or who was right or wrong he stands by his principles), he lacked in portraying his emotions with words. of course, you love him nonetheless and you appreciate everything he’s done.

but from time to time, assurance with words meant everything.

yoongi wouldn’t be yoongi if he didn’t take notice.

so… with you in his arms, the whole classroom to the pair of you like your own galaxy of being together and no one else to interrupt the solace and clarity that has oh-so-generously bestowed upon your shoulders, he takes this moment to do… just that.

in the midst of listening to a song he’s produced not long ago, with some tweaks and correction he takes from you as you jot them mindlessly onto his notebook in case he’s up for your thoughts (which he always is unless he’s adamantly sure it’s perfect and he’ll just have to show you why later on), he gently removes the earbud from your ears.

mistaking that for not listening to him as if he said something, he only smiles at the way your mouth shapes a circle replicating a target he should kiss, to which he does because who could resist that? still, even after the small distraction, you shift on his lap, turning to the side to press your arm against his chest so your other could extend out to find leverage on the back of his chair. he blinks at you as you do so, does nothing, then does something to stop you from saying anything.

you’ve grown accustom to the way he frames your cheek with a hand, a clear access now that wires and headphones are out of the way. though confused, he adores the way your lips curl upwards like the rate of his heartbeat each time that happens. he gulps when you follow his palm that lures you in towards him, following the tipping of his chin to align your lips together.

but just before the shared vision in your mind becomes a reality, the whispered words that leaves his mouth shakes you to your bones. he makes it seem like he hadn’t said anything to make your heart leap out of your chest, resorting to push it down inside your ribcage in a safe space before it has a chance to escape with a kiss sealed on your lips. firmer than the first, delicate to replicate the things he makes you feel. it’s as if he’s taking your breath away but is the reason you breathe in the first place.

i comes through your hair, trailing up your neck before it echoes into your ears. love is endearing, threading past your heartstrings to hear them tremble in his touch. you is delightful, as yoongi thinks, feels, kisses and groans in pure bliss of being able to feel your heartbeat so close to his as if they’re two separate metronomes, reflecting each other in excitement of a love only you and yoongi knows of.

yoongi lets you draw back to catch your breath, because good god that was one hell of a kiss and yoongi sees that on your face. chuckling, he tucks strands of your hair from your face before his hands rest over your hips and yours, steadied on his shoulders with a smile that lifts his soul to the heavens.

“i love you too.”

yep, definitely way up the clouds.


lin manuel miranda x reader

prompt: it certainly wasn’t an easy task being someone’s guardian angel. all your life you’ve only  known of protecting lin from harm’s way so when you’re kicked out of heaven, you truly know nothing but to protect your ever so clumsy human.

a/n: this was inspired by my favorite tv show, supernatural, and the song heaven by troye sivan. i might make this into a multiple part series who knows. 


You watched Lin crossing the street, anxiously sitting on your hands and biting your lip as the brunette clumsily bumped into various pedestrians trekking the same busy Manhattan streets as him, his head down as he continued to quickly made his way through town haphazardly.

‘He needs to be more careful! He can get hurt!’ You muttered to yourself, gasping as Lin crossed the street, his head still down as he looked at his journal. A taxi cab was flying down the street, barrelling towards Lin, and didn’t appear to be slowing down anytime soon.

You stopped the moment, flying down to Earth to move Lin out of the dangerous situation before returning to Heaven to watch over your human.

Your life consisted of this and only this.

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anonymous asked:

Top 10 reasons to love Fox Mulder.

1. The way he leans towards you, into your, over you, chewing the inside of his lip and scrunching his eyebrows, and the way it makes you feel knowing that his intensified focus is directed towards you.

2. His legs, taking up all of the room on the plane, in the car, under the desk when you’re trying to find your way down between his legs and his knees keep knocking you in the side of the head as you giggle. But you never mind, you’ve always been small enough to compensate for his bigness.

3. You’ll never meet a man more confident in his beliefs, and yet still so open to those of others.

4. His voice, lulling you to sleep every evening and waking you up inside of a dream every morning. The first words that roll across his tongue in the mornings sound like thunder shaking the bones of your house, begging you to kiss the tiredness away.

5. His ability to allow himself to become open to vulnerability, and his understanding of the occasional necessity of this.

6. The way he feels and wants and loves bigger than anyone you have ever met. Every case he becomes emotionally attached to. Every family of a victim is given his personal phone number in case they need someone to talk about their loss. Every town he sleeps in becomes another home for him to reminisce when he is lonely. 

7. The tea tin you find in the floor in between his bedside table and his bed frame. You pick it up, intending to put it in the drawer of his nightstand so it doesn’t get lost, but end up opening it out of curiosity when you hear shuffling inside as you lift it. Inside are tickets. Hundreds and hundreds of plane tickets. As you start shuffling through, you realize that if you looked, you’d be able to find matching ones just like them somewhere in your own apartment. All of the places you have been together, nestled safely in this tiny box.

8. His unfaltering trust and support. When you were a child, you had your sister. Even after two separate lifetimes of growing in opposite directions, you could still read each others minds. When you lost her, it took you nearly three months before you realized that you had him. He rarely understands at first, but, God, he never stops trying to.

9. His hands. Resting protectively on the small of your back. Holding your shoulders, so narrow that his fingers meet at your spine, as gently as you would hold an injured bird. Gripping the hair at the base of your neck. Pressing into, bruising even, the porcelain skin of your hips. Tracing the slope of your nose downwards, catching on your bottom lip, the tip of his thumb slipping into your mouth. Holding your hand in his, always and always and always and always.

10. The way he loves you back. Everything you give to him he takes and consumes and loves and he uses it and takes it and amplifies it and hands it right back to you. Everyday you wake up, unsure of where your job will take you next. But you are always safe, warm in the blanket of his love. You never knew how greatly you needed a safety net until he volunteered his mind and his heart and his body for yours. You wonder if God made his hands so big to better hold and protect your little heart. 

27; merman!taehyung

need to hold you (27)
p: bringing up the hands to cup the other person’s face while kissing

ever since you met taehyung, you came by the water more than you usually would. apart from the cooling welcome of the waves that made space for you to enter, his arms of a safety net comes around you. your feet anticipates the soft surface of his tail, before allowing him to stable your weight but he always does it so effortlessly.

“been waiting for you,” he mumbles under his breath, gently guiding you backwards until you feel the surface of the rock greets your back. it doesn’t hurt, however. it’s… pleasant. a bit rough but when it’s been underwater since god knows when it’s not so bad with taehyung’s touch.

“yeah?” you muse, tilting your chin up to brush the tip of your noses together, making him groan.

“you’re so-”

“amazing? wonderful?”

he leans in and rather than seeing it, you feel it first. his breath hitting your lips as he exhales, the movement of his lips affecting the way the air enters your lungs; everything he does magnifies twice as much being in the same world as him - even if it’s just for a moment.


his lips press against yours just as your hands find leverage on his shoulders, squeezing them like how he puts pressure on your hips. you let him take the lead as he sets a slow, gentle pace. you can feel his smile, you can taste it on his tongue, you let it consume you and shake you to your bones as he hums with his every being of loving you and only you - you smile.

it grows bigger than your heart does when you feel his hands gliding up your sides to reach your face. icy cold dots turn into strokes before his palm warms up against your skin with his lips pressing harder to imprint his love on you. locked fingers by the nape of his neck, a metronome ticking on his skin as your nails trace the veins embedded within, he shudders. because every detail and movement you do, he realizes and he takes it into consideration to feel it all at once and it’s overwhelming.

but the good kind.

taehyung pulls back and grins at the sight of your blushing cheeks. he carefully strokes the under of your eyes and you open then, having not notice they were closed. you meet with his gaze and when your nose starts to paint a light shade of pink, he grows a little bit worried.

“are you cold?”

“a bit,”

“…we should get you out,”

“you don’t look too happy about that,”

“i never look happy when you’re about to go far away from me,”

“i’ll only be a few inches away, tae,”

“and those are a few inches too far!”

Two Ghosts

Originally posted by kthish

A Kim Taehyung Vampire AU

Rating: M (mature themes, death, blood, sexual themes in the next chapter)

Status Ongoing, part 2 coming soon

Kim Taehyung has been your mortal enemy ever since you were fifteen. He wasn’t always such a monster, but he entered a downward spirl after death had started to surround him. He was a vampire - everyone already thought he was an evil being, so why not make their nightmares come true? Encountering you after you quit vampire hunting may have been his greatest stroke of luck yet - his one and only chance to end it all.

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You Like?

Requested by: @we-are-but-stardust

Request: Can you do a scenario where “y/n” and t.o.p have had so much sexual tension and have had to keep it on lockdown and hide it from the rest of the group. But finally get a moment to unleash all the sex and aggression?
A/N: Idk if this is the longest smut ever, but this is pretty damn long. I always imagined, and honestly believe, that TOP himself is aggressive or can be in the bedroom. He has attributes that he’s either said or I’ve noticed that lead me to believe that, so that’s how I’ve written him here. He’s aggressive and takes charge, and rips panties off with a look. Also, if you don’t need a metaphorical cigarette after reading this, I must have done something wrong. ENJOY!!
Warnings: This is the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written. SMUT!SMUT!SMUT! So much smut. There is also some BDSM, Dominant and Submissive play hinted in here. So please, be careful while reading.

Disclaimer: As always, the gifs used are not mine and belong to their rightful owner!
Genre: TOP x Reader

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Crimson Kisses

=> Taehyung. Moonlight. Hunger.

Warning: Mentions of blood.

Words: 2, 231

a/n: Because who doesn’t love evil, vampire Taehyung?

Blood stained lips glistened under the ivory moonlight, nothing but wickedness gleaming in his wild eyes that stared you down. Small flecks of red painted the corners of his mouth, running a smooth path down his chin only to fall onto the forest floor in fresh drops of crimson.

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❤ - go blind/speed dating and happen to find each other (w/ tattooartist!namjoon)

When your friend (a.k.a the devil himself Jeon Jungkook) said that he had the perfect match for you, honestly (apart from telling him to jump off the cliff) you were rather intrigued. Jungkook painted him to be a person you somehow had intentions of meeting - based on his mutual likings and interest, you were in for it. However, when Jeon set the date up and told you of the venue, your gut feeling didn’t feel too good.

Yet, you went through with it because hey, Jungkook is a nice person. So whoever he tried to play cupid with couldn’t possibly be that bad.

Your conclusion was up for a testimony as you situate yourself in front of the description Jungkook left you in bullet point form. Purple hair, a black cargo jacket hanging on his shoulders with a pair of jeans and whatever shoes because who cares. He smiles at you the moment you sit down and he extends his arm to Jungkook’s detailed text message of: red summer dress, flats, okay that’s all you get, hyung and although he wanted to punch Jungkook at the throat, he’s happy said boy didn’t say much.

Because boy was he blown away with the beauty in front of him. Bright eyes, brighter smile, he feels his heart warming up already even though you haven’t said anything.

“I’m Namjoon,” He introduces himself, deep raspy voice shaking you to your bone and you try your best to stay collected, reaching forward to slip your hand in his, “Y/N,”

He stood corrected. You even sound pretty what the fuck.

“S-So, uh… shall we see what to eat?”

“Sure,” You grin, picking up the menu and with a soft what on earth, you scan through the price and your heart is pounding too hard because Jeon, you’re dead meat. The digits could skyrocket to your purse’s death and based on how light it would be after you eat here, it could fly to the heaven’s. Gulping, you try to look elsewhere, away from the blaring thousand dollars for some gold burger on the menu to land on - Namjoon flinches at the touch along the back of his hand but doesn’t move away.

Instead, he lowers his menu to see you admiring his line of chain tattooed to his skin and he smiles, meeting with your eyes when you tilt your chin up and is it weird he adores how you snap back to your senses with a quick I’m so sorry! and try to muster up a reason you touched him without asking? Yet, he would let you anyway? He tells you it’s fine, and carries it on with: “You like tattoos?”

“W-Well,” You put the menu down, straightening your back, “I think they’re interesting. Like, the stories behind them, the meaning and…” He sees how you’re unable to continue, only following your gaze of your curiosity to the cuffs of his jacket to reveal the ink on his wrist. His mind is completely off from the special deals, on to lifting his sleeve slightly, “Do you want to see them?”

“Could I?” He takes it back, he loves how wide your eyes become and have filled with adoration in them.

“Yeah but,” He leans in, to which you do subconsciously, “I don’t think this place would appreciate me putting on a free show to my tattoos,”

“…we could go somewhere else,”

“Where do you propose?”

You’re smiling.

“I know this burger place down the block,” He’s about to agree but you - “And I may or may not have gotten my first tattoo at the joint behind,”

“…you’re kidding,” His eyes are as wide as the moon, his mouth gaping at - “You have a tattoo?”

With a chuckle, you rise to your feet and extend your hand to him, “C’mon. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,”

Without missing a beat, Namjoon grabs onto your hand.

You curtsy back with a laugh before shaking your head.  “What god awful thing did you do this time, Negan?”

“Ya know what, that fuckin’ hurts my fuckin’ feelin’s.  Who the fuck says I did any-fuckin’-thing bad?”

“Beyond the shit-eating grin and bow?”  He was too charming for his own good…for your own good as you grip the lapels of his jacket and let your lips brush his.  “Give it up, big man, or I’ll have to get rough with ya.”

Negan’s pulls you up against his chest, his laugh shakes your bones, before his lips brand yours with a demanding kiss.  When he pulls back you’re both breathless.  “I got ya somethin’.”

“If you say your dick, I swear to god —” Another kiss stops you as he stuffs the gift into your hand.  You break the kiss, look down in shock.  “Oh my god!”

“Fuckin’ A,” he grins in pride.  “Did fuckin’ good, didn’t I?”

You smile up at him.  “Oh, you did very good.”

“Do I get fuckin’ prize?” He smirks, pressing into you.

“For this?  Abso-fucking-lutely,” you grin, pressing back.

“Fan-fuckin’-tastic!” He cheers, before yanking the Twinkie from your hand.  “This one’s mine,” he cheekily grins as he steps back, raising the treat high above your head to open it.

“Negan!”  You scold, laughing as he stuffs it in his mouth.

“Fuck me hard, these’re fuckin’ amazin’,” Negan declares, eyes nearly rolling back, before smiling down at you. “The rest in the truck are all yours, beautiful.”

Requested by @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash for my 500 Followers celebration.  Turned out cuter than I expected, but I couldn’t resist doing a bit of a throwback to my “Negan loves Twinkies” headcanon, lol!  Hope you like it!!

The details on this whole shindig is HERE.

The Cliff (Taehyun x Reader)

A/n: This is a rather short scenario but i hope you like it. I missed the BTS request too. ALSO, thanks for the praises, i’m making more sf9 post in the future :D
Genre/warnings: Fluff and a bit of angst. 

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word counting: 1.683

Ever since you moved to this new house you took the habit of going to the sea when you are thoughtful. At first it was because of the lack of friends in the new city but still now when you need it you descend the rocks next to the lighthouse and sit observing the waves, and it doesn’t have anything with your friends. Your parents have told you a thousand times not to do such things but you knew it was only their fear inspired by some local urban legend of a kid that fell down the cliff many years ago and never returned. But you are skillful enough to not trip and you always make sure to be safe enough. That’s why you are there, one night more, with the cold shaking your bones but with your heart in peace.

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Thunder Buddies

Summary: Steve comforts you when you become scared of a thunderstorm.

Word Count: 1,300

Warnings: None.

Originally posted by rogers-room

Steve looks up from the report he has been reading, signing the bottom line absently as his forehead creases and his mouth sets in a thin, straight line. He had left the curtains parted, never quite getting tired of the beautiful Manhattan skyline visible from this far up in Stark’s tower. The city had grown so much since Steve last remembered.

But today, his eyes narrow and he sets his pen down. Dark grey, ominous clouds loom just close enough to know that a storm will hit within minutes. Steve gets on his feet and turns his body towards the door. He knows you’re somewhere around the floor. Last time he had seen you, you had been holding a lively conversation with Sam. He smiles, glad that you had effortlessly become an essential part of his makeshift family.

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All this talk about summer love and strawberry lips and golden skin and no one ever talks about loving when the sky is dark grey, about loving when the trees won’t stop shaking and the wind moans your name.

So let me tell you about loving when the streets are cold, when you wake to crisp morning air and tangled bodies. Let me tell you about the fog that escapes your mouth before you kiss; how it moves like ghosts dancing to ballads between open lips. Let me tell you about rose-red cheeks and rose-red noses and how good his chest feels when you’re trying to keep warm.

About rain pelting hard against your windshield and your heart pelting harder against your chest when his hands touch you. About how warm bodies feel when everything around you is cold. About how your bones shake like the trees and the powerlines and sweaters have never felt as good as they do when they smell just like him.

All this talk about summer love and no one ever talks about loving when you’re the only lit matches in a city made of ice.

—  Reena B.| November love.
Impulse (part 1)

There will be a smutty part two. Tomorrow. I just wanted to get this one out today. Ignore the typos and all that, I didn’t really have time to edit. Also, this was born last night during a sleep induced and frustrated conversation with @permanentcross. Hope you enjoy xx


“So… what d'yeh wanna watch?!” Harry asks you, eyebrow popping up as he poses the question.

You’re both at his place, sprawled out on the big couch while facing the TV, the coffee table filled with sweets and popcorn while the both of you flicked through Netflix searching for something worth watching. 

“Whatever you want…” You mumble, distracted. There was too much in your head that prevented you from caring about the film you were supposed to be watching.

Harry had a bit of downtime between one work commitment and the other and, while he was still in London, he’d wanted to spend time with you. It was a harmless, intention lacking evening - two friends getting together for a pint and a movie. At least that’s what it was supposed to be.

What started as an innocent get together quickly turned into a torturous evening for you, filled with tension and lack of control. 

It started long ago, these feelings. Warm and cozy, swirling in your belly before going up your chest and squeezing your heart with fondness that turned into want very quickly. You had been successfully fighting it for months, putting up some distance between the both of you and taking advantage of the fact that Harry was busy - sometimes so busy he could only send you a quick “How was your day? xx” text and that was it, for at least a while, before he had time to talk again.

It worked perfectly for you. What the eyes can’t see, the heart can’t feel it, right?! But that was not how it worked.

The minute he’d texted you saying he wanted to catch up, everything you had been pressing down and hiding knocked you out like lightening. It was a mixture of pent up emotion that had you breathless and shaking - tummy filled with uncontrollable butterflies, a yearning in your chest so strong it was painful, your nerves too heightened to ignore. But you had no escape, you had agreed to see him and he was expecting you - three whole days of expectation, excitement and nerves that had you shaking to your bone while you drove to his place. 

Once he’d opened the door and wrapped you up in a tight embrace, it felt like every knot in your body snapped, emotion flooding into you like tsunami tides that forced you to hold on to him for dear life. You both stood in his foyer, arms wound tight around each other, your ear pressed to his chest where his heart was beating B steadily, his scent swarming your senses while the soft fabric of his sweater rubbed against your cheek and you felt safe. You felt safe and home. 

“Missed you, pet.” Harry mumbled, temple pressed against yours. You could hear his voice rumbling through his chest, vibrating against your cheek and you sigh, feeling your chest swelling with fondness as you untangle your arms from around him and look up to his face, a shy smile playing on your lips. “Don’t go MIA on me like that!”

“Says the one who sends a text every three months.” You gripe and he laughs, just because he knows you’re right, his green eyes alight as he looks at you. “Missed you too.”

From that moment on, you were screwed. You try and keep to yourself, sitting on the corner of the couch and observing him go back and forth around the living room, offering you various things to eat while he told you about everything he’d been doing for the past few months. 

He looks different - better, if possible. You can see his shoulders are wider, arms stronger under the big amount of fabric of his sweater, lose around his sides and covering his hands, giving him sweater paws and softening his appearance, even though he looks more like a man now than ever before, no traces of the soft boy he once was. His hair is covered by a Green Bay Packers beanie, contrasting against his all black outfit and he looks sleepy, telling you that he was probably having a nap before you ringed the bell. 

“That’s enough ‘bout me.” He sighs, finally plopping down beside you, much closer than you’d like him to. His legs are spread open, tattooed hand gripping your thigh as he rests back against the couch and smiles at you. “How have you been, love?”

“I’ve been good.” You shrug. “Nothing as exciting as your life but still, been having a nice time.” You smile at him, head resting on your hand as you turn to look at him.

He looks breathtakingly good, his legs spread, looking so nice and strong it was almost an invitation for you to settle yourself on his lap. His lips, pink and full, are slick and glistening with spit from how many times he had ran his tongue over them while he talked to you and he has his bottom one pinched between his thumb and forefinger as he listens patiently while you speak.

Your eyes, as much as you tried to control them, couldn’t look away from him and you can feel your chest tightening and your hands and lips tingling with want. So much time apart, so many repressed and shoved down feelings that were now making themselves known again and it was like a flood – unbound and uncontrolled, running over barriers and defenses you had put up and destroying them just as if they were a toothpick - effortlessly. There was no wall hiding them from your eyes and your heart, your feelings were right there, in broad daylight for you to see, staring you in the face and telling you that no, you weren’t escaping this time.

Harry’s hand, the one that gripped your thigh, is warm but it feels like a burning fire on your skin, even through your clothes and you could swear that if he kept it there a second longer, you’d both see smoke coming out of it. You’re overheating with his closeness, sparks igniting your bones and making your blood rush through your veins so fast it makes you dizzy. His eyes, eyes you love so much, are looking at you like you are his whole world and you don’t know if it was because you missed him or because you wanted it so badly, for so long, but before you could stop yourself, you are lunging forward, one leg straddling his thigh, leaning in eagerly, hands firmly pressed against his cheeks, your lips molding to his as you shut your eyes tightly and melt into a kiss. 

Your tongue runs over his bottom lip before your thumb presses to his chin as you beg, with a desperate and whiny sound, for him to open up to you and you didn’t know what possessed him to allow this, but he does, lips parting and welcoming your greedy tongue into his mouth. You can taste the beer he’d been drinking on his tongue and it makes you sigh, because right under it is the taste of him, the one you’ve always wanted to know and it makes you shake with a burning, overwhelming desire. You had wondered, for so long, how it would be… how he would feel, how he would taste and now you knew.

The swirls of pleasure fluttering inside of you settle into a tight pressure low on your tummy, a knot wound so tight it makes you ache for him. You suckle on his bottom lip as you hold him still, as still as a rock. He’s not even touching you but when you bite on his bottom lip, his chest expands as he takes a sharp breath and his hands reach for your arms as his neck stretches up to reach for you - to get closer, to kiss deeper. 

It’s then, when he moans your name and pulls you closer, that it dawns on you – you are kissing him. Harry. You’re not supposed to kiss him. You pull away with a gasp, nail scraping the skin of his neck, lips making a filthy sound as you push away from him, your eyes wide and your hands shaking.

“I’m-“ You start, breathless, fingers reaching for your lips as you feel the tingling still there, the knot still pressing on your tummy, the shivers still running down your spine.

Harry is on the couch, hands dropped to his sides, red bitten lips parted in shock and a frown on his forehead as his green eyes lock with yours.

“I’m sorry.” You breath out, hand pressing to your forehead as you feel your eyes swell with tears. What have you done? “I fucked up, I’m- I’m s-so sorry.”

“Love, don’t-“ He starts but it’s too late for a reaction. You’re already out the door.


“Hi, I can’t answer you right now, please leave a message.”

He already knows the words by heart now, engraved in his brain because of the amount of times he had to listen to them over the past few weeks.

How long had it been now? A week? Two? Maybe a month, Harry doesn’t know. All he knows is that you don’t answer it. And you if he were to make a bet, he’d say you won’t answer him any time soon. At least not now - probably not ever, if he knows you well enough.

The kiss, that desperate, erratic, lust filled kiss had been playing over and over again in his head, just as much as the message on your voicemail. He already went over it a thousand times, looking for that one thing – the thing that made you run away from him and disappear as if you’ve never existed in the first place.

He’d tried to get in touch with you in every way he knew how – calls, voicemail, texts that went unread, Twitter, Facebook, the lot. Every time, he came up emptyhanded and it was like a shock to his system.

He has questions, questions only you can answer and they are driving him mad, haunting his dreams every time his head hits the pillow. Where are you? Why won’t you answer him? Why did you run? What was that kiss… what did it mean?

“What have I done?” Is the question he asks you the most, with no answer. Ever.

Confused is the perfect word to describe him. Confused… and hurt. Not even after your worst fights, which weren’t many but that happened anyway, had you ever shut him out like this. It’s a constant silence, a never ending stream of unanswered pleads that lead him nowhere and it’s driving him mental.

It’s like the clock beside his bed is mocking him - 11:59 to 00:00. Another day you didn’t talk to him, another day he lost a little more of you. Another rejection. Another 24 hours of complete and utter silence, the only change being the digits beside your phone number, that kept going higher and higher. What was it now? A hundred? He didn’t know. But he was done with it.

❤ - go blind/speed dating and happen to find each other (w/ bartender!taehyung) 

Going to bar was one of the few things you’d to to pass the time but as of late, you hadn’t been able to drop by as much as you would like to. You had your own functions and things to handle and to appreciate… a little someone’s company wasn’t a valid reason to squeeze that in between to take a fifteen minutes trip from where you lived. However, you were forced to make time to leave the confinement of your home when your friend seemed to have better plans than getting dinner on a Friday night.

That little brat set you up on a date - a blind date! You told him the same thing you told anyone who tried: you could get a man if you wanted to. But… well… let’s just give it a shot, eh? What’s the worst thing that could happen?

A surprise shows up in a blue denim jacket with a white tank underneath along with a pair of black slacks to go with it. Brown hair that you have grown accustom to seeing with eyes that you’ve stared into more than the times you have ever gotten drunk. It was none other than - “Taehyung…?”

“So this is why you don’t stop by the bar anymore?”

“You… know Jimin?”

He scoffs a laugh and motions you to sit, in which you do before he replies with: “Known that kid since I could walk and curse his name. The question here is how do you know him?”

“I’m a close friend of his friend. We met at a party and we clicked so ever since we sort of…” You can’t finish your words when he’s doing that thing even when you visit the bar. His eyes won’t tear away from yours, as if he’s trying to see his reflection in your eyes or find out what’s hidden behind them, weave out the thoughts so it’ll soothe the ones erratically shaking his heart - Taehyung just… he wants to know a lot of things.

So happen, those things revolve around you.

“Do we click?”

“Do you want to find out?”

He chuckles, like the ones he lets you hear at the bar but when it’s not to crowded and you can have him one to one like this… it’s different. But a good kind of different.

“I kind of know the answer already but sure, why not?”

“Some wine?”

“You read my mind.”

((as taehyung leans back with a grin on his face, the aftermath of his kiss still lingering on your lips. his fingers trace up your cheek before he tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. his voice shakes you to your bones, but with his grip around you he’s the only one keeping you up at this point.

“so… about your question about whether we clicked. were you right?”

“most definitely,”

“and… what was your initial answer?”

“we clicked from the moment you walked in, y/n.”

“…have i ever told you how cheesy you are?”

“hush. you like it.”))

“The Oro Jackson sailing true, Our Captain Bold and Free!
Grand Line ‘hold our fearsome ship, The man whos Will is D.!
A Fighting Lot our mangy crew, we fear no Davy Jones~
Our Captain is The Pirate King, his voice would shake your bones!
Silvers at the helm steadfast, Rosa at her Keel
Their blood they’d spill to keep us free; the pride it makes us feel!
For him we’d die a thousand deaths, out on this endless sea
Our Captain’s name is Roger, and his loyal crew are we!

Our flag known well throughout the seas, and soon your’s too, my son
You’ll fight the waves your Mother fought, until your Will is done.

And I will sail beside you still, no matter the course you choose
because you are my Pirate King, and you will never loose

Mafia Arranged Marriage Mini Series: JIMIN


… … PARK JIMIN … …

The first time you met Park Jimin, fear grabbed you by the throat. He had the body of a god, even though he was the shortest man in the room. He could put together, take apart, and aim a gun more efficiently than any officer in the city. Glossy brown eyes always rested straight ahead of him, like he was constantly waiting for something. He never spoke unless asked a question, which was cute at first. Until you realized it wasn’t because he was shy or introverted. 

He was a weapon. A living, breathing, machine made of human muscle fiber and belligerence. Of mafia design, a brutally hijacked mind from the day he slipped out of the womb. His father only ever spoke of two things to Jimin. Kill or be killed. From his birth to the day you were introduced as his future wife, he was only ever exposed to “getting the job done.”

When you tried to imagine what a life with him as your husband would look like, you only saw the two of you leaving death and destruction in your wake. In an attempt to desensitize you to the way Jimin and his father handled the dirty business, they sent you on kill runs with him. The horrifying days were many, and you sat in the van while Jimin left to do the job. One day you finally had enough of the blood and guts. You cornered him when he came back alone. 

“None of this feels wrong to you?” You two had sat there in silence most times, so it seemed to startle him a little. He’d killed three women, ten men, and two little girls. It actually made you sick when you saw the blood caked under his nails. He couldn’t get it off so he just folded his hands in his lap. The air inside the van was stifling, and the only thing to do now was wait for the other two goons to get back.

“I don’t understand the question.” He blinked straight ahead, robotic and cold.

“When you see the life drain out of someone’s eyes, you don’t feel sick to your stomach? Your father has you kill for him, do you ever ask what they did to deserve death? Do you ever wonder if they don’t?” His brows clenched together a bit. Clearly, no one had ever asked him that before. 

“That’s not my responsibility.” He sounded like he didn’t even believe the words coming out of his mouth. 

“If you’re the one sliding the knife through their throats, then it is yours. Everyone has a choice Park Jimin.” You bravely grasped hold of his chin and pulled his attention to you. “You should to.” 

For whatever reason, maybe a pathetic attempt to save him or distract him somehow, you found your lips on his. Briefly, and even sweetly. His hand came up to yours and pulled your fingers away from his face firmly. Suddenly it all turned horribly wrong. His eyes filled with a rage that can only be described as pure terrified child syndrome. His body shifted over you with haste, pinning you to your seat inside the van. You felt his hand slide gracefully onto your throat. The grip wasn’t hard enough to deprive you of oxygen, but enough to convince you he’d kill you if you pushed him too far. You tried not to let that scare you. Even if it did, you couldn’t let him see that. 

“Don’t ever touch me like that again.” His voice sounded strained. Like he was fighting something off. 

“I’m your fiance. I thought it was part of the marriage deal.” You felt his other hand grip your hip and pin you harder into the chair. His thighs firmly rested on either side of yours, locking you completely in place. His eyes seethed into yours like you like you were some sort of prey. Underneath his outer shell, was a small glimmer of something else. Something he clearly wasn’t used to feeling. 


“What? You thought because I was asked to sign a paper bonding us by law that we would be a sweet little family? I’m only required to keep you alive long enough to give you a son. No one said we were supposed to enjoy it.” Oh shit. That actually scared you. He was clearly not exposed to anything remotely loving, nurturing, least of all romantic. The idea of him “giving you a son” made your body tremble a bit underneath of him. You couldn’t help but be frighteningly confused about the emotions stirring inside your mind. You would have to change your approach if you wanted to escape this madness.

You started crying. Mostly on purpose, but part of you felt those tears down to your shaking bones. You figured though, maybe a bit of theatrics would soften him up a bit. It didn’t soften his body, but he did let you go and sit back down in the seat next to you. Curiosity filled his big brown eyes, while his hands firmly gripped the armrests. 

“Stop.” His eyes never left you. 

“I can’t stop on command. It doesn’t work like that.” You were full of shit but, he didn’t know that.

“I don’t care. Stop doing that.” For the briefest moment his face softened, and filled with childlike concern. Then it switched suddenly to a very hard confused glare. Like he wasn’t quite sure what to do next. 

“No Jimin. I don’t just do whatever I’m told. I do what I want. I refuse to be like you.” He didn’t like that very much. An anxious jolt passed through him. 

“I make my own rules.” Your words cut him. They were supposed to. That’s why you filled your tone with venom. You were supposed to be his equal, or less than. Here you were, looking down on him and his obedience. A trait he was bred to endure. The point settled into his head as his body sank into the chair beneath him. His gaze ripped itself away from yours and he slammed his eyes shut. Waiting for the van’s engine to start and drive you both back home. The tension so thick, even a chainsaw couldn’t cut through it.

The next day, he didn’t come to breakfast. His father stood at the head of the table, blatantly peeved by his absence. His eyes scanned the room full of bodyguards as he began barking questions about his whereabouts. 

“Sir. He seems to be held up.” A pig headed man strapped up in guns held his tongue for a moment. Probably because he knew how ridiculous he’d sound saying the next bit.  

“Well, he is locked in his bathroom sir. We are struggling to coax him out.” His father sighed heavily and squeezed the bridge of his nose as though this was all causing him head pain.

He suddenly ordered you to go “collect Jimin,” as if he was a toy that now belonged to you. The audacity of that man would fucking end you one of these days. You’d like to end him instead. The thought tickled you in a way it really shouldn’t have. Then again, daddy’s little monster would most certainly snap your pretty little neck for killing his creator. Worst part, is that he’d probably do it without blinking. 

You nervously tapped at the massive oak door to his bathroom. Like you had anticipated, he didn’t answer. You turned to the three guys who had been trying to break into the bathroom and told them to leave. They were purposefully failing at getting in, because they knew Jimin would fucking obliterate them if they startled him by bursting in like that. You didn’t care though. Something inside of you snapped and started banging on his door. 

“Jimin open this door. Open this fucking door right now or I’ll…” You screamed and slammed on the door. It even annoyed you a little bit but, you were obviously the only person the least bit concerned with him being in there quiet like that. At last you heard the door click open.

Then, there he was. Shivering and drenched. His unrested eyes didn’t greet yours at the door. He just sloshed back toward the tub and plunged back into what you assumed was cold bathwater. He pulled his legs into his body and he looked up at you. The level of defeat in his eyes didn’t make you feel good by any means. It did offer up a bit of hope however. You had cracked his armor. 

“I want to hate you. I want to wish you never came here, or that you were weak and let me live the way I always have. That would be easy.” He was holding back emotions he clearly had no way of handling. He wasn’t ever allowed to feel them before you enlightened him on his choice to do so. 

“In a way, I wish I was more like you instead. Free to do what I want. I’ve never even stopped to think of what I want. I never knew I wanted anything at all.” 

“Jimin…” Your heart hurt for him. You wanted to wrap him in blankets and rock his rock hard body to sleep. Sooth him somehow. Anyone would know this level of pain was only healed with time. He was broken. 

“Please. Don’t say more. I can’t take more.” His eyes pleaded down into the water surrounding him.

“Just don’t leave.” It barely made it out of his throat.

He slipped a wet hand out of the water and reached for yours. Which at first, felt like he didn’t know how hard or softly to touch you. So you just wrapped both arms around his wet one and kissed his shoulder. Then you just sat like that for a while. Hoping that by some chance a miracle would release him from his blood bonded contract to his father.  

Downstairs. A miracle was occurring. Inside the Don’s wine glass. Your father, who was supposedly his friend, had slipped a bit of thallium into it. Tasteless, odorless, and lethal. He choked to death before you and Jimin ever left his bathroom. 

Your father refused to force you into a marriage with Jimin. He said it was the worst business decision he had made thus far. He took over the Don’s seat. Your father saw Jimin as a liability, so he stopped sending him out to do kills. He demolished furniture and broke all the flower vases the first few weeks after he was pulled from doing runs. Mainly out of bewildered anxiety of not knowing what to do with himself. Jimin’s recovery was no joke. So you bought him a punching bag, and your father helped him train to control his rage. It took over two years to get him even remotely close to normal mental processing. 

You did marry Park Jimin. On a day when the breeze from the Saha-Gu waters floated up into a spring sunrise. Not because anyone had asked him to, or someone needed an heir to uphold the family power. He wanted to.

He bravely asked you to stay by his side. When he said he needed you, to keep him safe, your heart collapsed. How could you deny him? Even though you knew you could walk away, and he’d let you if you ever asked, you didn’t want to. Something inside you latched itself onto Jimin the minute you saw him shivering in cold bath water letting himself fall apart. He was emotionally braver than anyone could have ever seen coming, and you respected him more for that.

The wind came swirling over the sand of a deserted beach in Busan, sending your hair up into a blissful dance. Jimin struggled to gently hold onto your hand, his muscle memory determined to demolish his surroundings. 

“You may kiss your bride.” You tried to control the lean in for the kiss because your family was there. For the love of god though, Jimin was just a grabby plant one on you kind of person. There was no getting around it. Everyone still clapped and cheered for it though. When he leaned away, he smiled. His smiles were pure magic, and made you thank the heavens that he had started smiling more and more as time went on. 

His eyes always gave his feelings away. They reassured you, Jimin would follow you to the ends of the earth if you asked him to. If only because you were his light at the end of a dark tunnel that could consume him again if he was ever left to his own devices. 

The kisses he planted on you when he finally got you alone after the wedding reminded you of the first few times he finally let himself get close to you at all. Close enough to hug you, and hold your hand without almost breaking your wrist. When he finally got close enough to kiss you, that underlying aggressive nature worked in his favor. It was well placed behind a kiss. 

Irony had never tasted so sweet.