the despair in his voice

I Found You.

Prompt: (Soulmate AU) Pain demands to be felt. Sometimes by more than one.

“Wow, look at you, Mr. Cranky. What’s up?” Blaise greets Draco too cheerfully in a gloomy London Monday morning.

“Shut it, Zabini. It’s too early to deal with your shits.” Draco snaps.

“Whoa, okay, something is clearly wrong. Wanna share?” Draco almost snaps for the second time in the morning, but the concern in Blaise’s eyes softens his cranky side.

“It’s nothing, just woke up this morning and sore all over the place.”

“Soulmate things?” Draco only nods. “I hate this thing you know, I mean one day we live for 21 years and the next second we’re being tied to this one particular person which is a pain in the ass because we have to share their pain.”

“Well, you have exactly 21 years to fool around. It’s your fault to waste it. And by the way, you don’t have to search for your soulmate, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I would give my life to stop worrying while waking up with cuts all over my body. Thank you very much.”

“Good luck finding that klutz of your life. I’ll wait for the invitation.” Draco finally can grin for the first time in that morning before taking his ordered coffee, and leave the small coffee shop.

*

Draco Malfoy always wonders about his soulmate. On the day he turned 21, there was suddenly bruises on his ribs. He couldn’t sleep that day, worrying whether the person he is being tied to will survive the day or not, as more bruises and cuts kept coming. He relaxed once he can feel the repeated stinging pain of needle on the corner of his eyebrow. That day never stops, and Draco never stops worrying, even after one year of that dreadful night.

Now that he’s 22, he already can control his emotions. Some days he’s worried sick inside his office as the pain just keeps resonating over and over, but some other days, like today, he only feels irritated as he woke up with tenderness all over his body. He sometimes feels grateful that his job won’t cause the person on his other end any more pain than they needs to endure, but most days he feels so irritated that he cuts himself on purpose to upset the other person. Being a healer is very safe when you know what you’re doing.

Sometimes he wonders what kind of job that his soulmate has, but nowadays he’s certain that it must be resonating with the word “Auror” or anything similar to that. Nothing can cause more pain than being in that bloody department of the ministry. Unfortunately not once he found the injured Auror that belongs to him. Not yet.

*

“Ow, fuck! Seriously, woman, blow your hot drinks before you drink it. You can at least have self preservation if not to save your soulmate tongue!” Pansy snaps to no one while drinking her ice Americano. Blaise laughs openly at that.

“It seems like I’m not the only one who has a klutz as my soulmate.”

“Yeah, she’s a klutz sometimes, not as bad as yours though.” Both Draco and Blaise stare at her in shock.

“Wh- What? She? Have you met her?” Draco asks incredulously.

“Well, no, but yesterday I felt a strong pain on my lower region, so I believe my soulmate is a she.”

“Are you sure? I mean they could get kicked in that area, or bump into something.” Pansy rolls her eyes.

“Draco, darling, I know what cramp pain feels like, so I strongly believe that she’s a girl.”

“Well, congratulation! You’re one step ahead to stop losing your mind out of worry.” Blaise says while hugging Pansy.

“Good on you, love—” Draco’s sentence is being cut by a painful blow on his stomach. Fuck. The next blow is so strong; it knocks him to his knees. His hand is tightly gripping the desk beside him while the other clutching his side stomach. The next wave of pain comes barreling through his body before his mind can catch up on how to breathe properly. He can feel the blood rushing out of his face, this pain is different. He doesn’t feel anything but pain before when this attack comes, but now he feels something else, something worse. Despair.

“Draco! Draco, can you hear me?!” Pansy’s panic voice break through his pain filled mind, but Draco can’t bring himself to answer her. He can clearly feel the despair on his soulmate bond. He can feel how the other person starts losing his will to live. No. Don’t. Please, I haven’t found you. You have to survive this one. He can hear his heavy breathing when the pain finally stops, or at least reduces to dull throbbing in his body. When he is finally aware of his surrounding, someone bursts through his office door. Pansy and Blaise, who are both kneeling beside Draco with concern eyes, suddenly glare to the nurse on the door.

“What do you want?” Pansy snaps.

“Healer Draco, there’s an emergency patient in an immediate need of surgery.” She speaks in rapid pace. Draco is still trying to catch his breathing.

“Where are the other healers? He can’t perform a surgery, right now.” Blaise asks politely.

“There are no other healers, please, he’ll die if you don’t operate him.”

“Pans, Blaise, it’s alright. I’m okay. I’ll be in the room in two minutes.” With that Draco stands up and goes to the operation room. The nurse is already there. “Just us two?”

“Just us two, the others are not available due to the recent attack on the ministry.” Draco steps into the light and freezes when he sees his patient’s face. Freckles with ginger hair. Ronald Weasley.

“Well, it really has been awhile, Weasley.” Draco performs the quite long surgery in just 4 hours, effectively removing the long painful metal from Ron’s shoulder and picking up all the scraps after he successfully undo the curse Ron has been shot with. The dull throbs never stop while he’s conducting the surgery, but nothing that he can ease with a small hiss or sharp intake of breath. Draco was just cleaning the blood on the Ron’s stitches when the surgery room’s door slams open with a force. Draco snaps at the nurse on the door, who turns out to be his apprentice/assistant. “Can’t you see that this surgery is not finished yet?! There are rules to follow, Rachel!”

“I’m sorry, Draco, I can do whatever you’re doing to that patient right now. This one is more important.” Rachel says in panic, and without permission she pulls a patient inside the surgery room. Draco’s heart drops to the floor when he sees the patient. Harry Potter is literally dripping blood to the floor. Bruises all over the place, but what concerns Draco is his split up chest that is oozing a scary amount of blood.

“Fuck, what happened to him?!”

“I don’t know, bloody Auror mission had gone wrong, probably? And this is not the worst of it.” With that Rachel show him the chunk of metal ripping through Potter’s thigh, deep enough to rip a tendon, deep enough to forbid him from running for the rest of his life. Draco sighs tiredly, why did Harry bloody Potter love to do something that will accelerate his own death? Merlin, help him.

“Uh- you, nurse over there, just bring Weasley to his room and clean him there. Rachel helps me with this one.” Draco says frantically. He cleans all the blood from Harry’s body while Rachel is already supplying the lifeless body with blood transfusion. Draco recognizes the curse from when he was forced to witness the Death Eater tortured their prisoner. It was a special signature curse from one of the Death Eater he hates the most, Dolohov. So, Harry has been dueling with Dolohov and what? Lose? A shudder rips through Draco’s spine. “How’s the other one?” Draco asks Rachel.

“The other one?”

“Yes, the other one he’s been fighting.” Draco snaps.

“Oh, yes, the other one is dead.” Oh, so he won. Thank Merlin, he won. Not in a very good shape though, he could die in a few minutes if Draco doesn’t act. Thank Merlin, Draco knows the counter curse. Draco points his wand on the open wound while muttering the incantation. His wand is rigid in his hand, his wand is not supposed to move or the incantation will fail. Apparently it’s an impossible task, because right when the spell works his chest fills with pain. Draco cries out while his knees buckle. Fuck. He tries once again with the same result. Fuck.

“Draco, what’s wrong?”

“I think you need to help me. Make sure that I don’t move, especially my wand, or else the spell won’t work.”

“Why are you in pain?”

“Apparently the counter curse hurts as much as the curse, so unless you’re doing the counter curse, I need you to help me stay still.”

“But –you’re not –but that means –your pain? –you and him?” Poor Rachel can’t even conjure a sentence.

“Yes, apparently fate has a weird way of playing with my life.” With that, Draco stands up with Rachel pointing her wand at Draco’s hand, casting spell so that his hand won’t move anywhere. After a few minutes with excruciating pain, Draco manages to close the wound on Harry’s chest.

“Alright, you have to bear the pain, Draco. I’m going to pull this metal out of his thigh.”

“Do it in one swift clean motion, or else you’ll rip whatever chance he has to run again.” Rachel points her wand at the large piece of metal. “On three. One. Two. Three.” Draco screams as the metal is being pulled out of Harry’s thigh. After that, they both finish their work on Harry Potter, releasing him to his room after his condition stabilizes in two hours.

*

Draco stays with Potter in his room after the bloody tiring surgery, catching up with the sleep he has lost over worrying for his bloody soulmate –Merlin, his soulmate is sodding Harry fucking Potter, how is that even possible? Now it’s clear why he never stops getting bruises and cut, but that can wait until later, right now a nap sounds really good.

*

Harry wakes up in a very familiar white room. Of course he’s in St. Mungo, he was barely alive when he managed to save Ron from Dolohov curse. He was very certain that he will not see another day, but here he is, lying soundlessly in a hospital bed. He feels another presence beside him, but he turns only to find a very familiar shade of blond. Malfoy. Malfoy looks so peaceful while sleeping, his head being supported by his hands on the bed, back rising slowly with each breath he takes. Somehow Malfoy looks breathtakingly innocent while sleeping, and that lures Harry in because the next thing he knows is he’s stroking the blond strands gently while willing for Malfoy to sleep a little longer.

That jinxes it though because now Malfoy is awake. Very much awake and very much confuse with Harry’s hand on his hair. Harry retracts his hand quickly, beyond embarrassed.

“How are you, Potter?” Draco asks professionally, so Harry sucks a deep breath to muster all his courage and apathy to answer him.

“Sore.” That makes Draco chuckles.

“Yeah, no wonder. The counter curse was suck, but the ripping a chunk of metal from your thigh part was a bitch.” Harry can only stares at Draco, he’s speaking in a very weird way. “Congratulation on killing Dolohov, though. Weasley is safe and sound, sleeping like a baby in the next room. Just friendly reminders though, the next time you’re getting beaten up, don’t start losing hope on living. The pain I can handle, the despair just simply makes me insane.” Draco smiles at him softly with concern in his grey orbs. “Your chest is fine, your thigh –not so much–”

“Malfoy.” Harry tries to cut his unnecessary professionalism.

“I’m afraid you have ripped your tendon, a physical therapy could–”

“Malfoy—”

“Help you to heal it faster, but—”

“Draco!” Harry finally snaps, Draco looks at Harry with annoyance.

“Stop interrupting me! You cannot run, Potter! You ripped your tendon. It will heal, but you cannot run until then. There I said my piece, stop interrupting me, Merlin. What do you want?”

“Are you saying what I think you are saying?”

“I’m not saying anything, what do you mean?”

“I’m saying about you can handle the pain. Are you saying that you’re my soulmate?” Harry asks exasperatedly. Draco’s face goes with recognition.

“Oh, that, yeah. I thought we already established that by what I’m saying. What you need prove?” Draco doesn’t wait for an answer; he just casually cuts his finger on the paper that he brought.

“Ow! Yeah, no, stop hurting yourself, I didn’t say I need any proof, you git!”

“What? It’s just a paper cut, you usually gives me new bruises for every week.” Draco says innocently which draws Harry more and more.

“Just come here, please.” Draco stands beside his bed, but Harry needs him closer, so he pulls Draco’s white coat collar down, effectively crushing their mouths together. Their kisses are gentle, and somehow fiercely sweet. “God, I never thought I’d live to see this day. I finally find you.” Harry says between kisses.

Thank Merlin, you survived. Thank you. I found you now.


P.S. Sorry this is not a very good one. I’ll probably rewrite this in the near future.

searching for

soulmate au
JUNGKOOK | BTS
10k words | ROMANCE/DRAMA
warnings for language, sexual situations and allusions to sex
(named OC) (just give it a chance)

based off of the premise of the movie TiMER (2009), or at least the world in that movie, the same world Curveball Caught By Us is placed in. 

Thanks to @seokvie for helping me brainstorm this and cheer me on along the way and preread and give me motivation to finish. You’re the real MVP, soul partner, soul sister, and I love you endlessly.

Originally posted by jengkook

Fuck! You could have warned me it hurts,” Jeongguk says, annoyed, though the pain after the Timer’s implantation dissipates quickly. The technician leans forward, eyes on the Timer as it boots up, and Jeongguk is suddenly struck with nerves.

How soon would he meet his soulmate? Would they be a fan? Or will Jeongguk be so unlucky that he must wait for years and years before he meets them? Or worse–what if they don’t have a Timer yet, what if he is stuck waiting and waiting, and maybe they never get a Timer, maybe–

The newly implanted device beeps, and Jeongguk sits up to look at it, scrunches his brow and then looks to the technician.

“Well, that’s odd,” she says, laughing nervously.

“What? What do all the zeros mean? Does that mean they don’t have one yet?”

“Um,” she says, another nervous chuckle escaping. “It–well, no, um, it means they have one, but you must have already met them.”

Keep reading

This Can’t Be The End

Originally posted by classicspnsource

Summary: You and Dean are transported to the year 2014, only to find the world in ruins and nearly everyone you love dead. In your time, your feelings for Dean are unrequited, but in the future, things are much different. (5x04 rewrite/reader insert)

Pairing: Future!Dean x Y/N Singer

Word Count: 5,700

Warnings: ANGST (Seriously guys, proceed with CAUTION this is the angstiest thing I’ve ever done. It hurt me writing it, it nearly killed @deanssweetheart23 who is forever and always my lovely beta) SMUT (That’s right, I actually wrote smut and it’s probably terrible) LANGUAGE (Future!Dean swears a lot) Mention/suggestion/implication of suicide.

A/N: This is not only for angst weekend, but for @jayankles Bailey’s birthday challenge! Congrats on the blog-versary and the followers, hun! I’d also like to sincerely apologize to you for the severe levels of angst… please read something happier for your birthday. 

A/N/N: Again, first real time doing smut, I’m sorry it’s probably terrible. This is an episode rewrite, and a great deal of the dialogue is from the episode - full credit to the spn writers. And I’m not kidding, this shit is angsty. Hang on.

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Anything, Everything (1/2)

Summary: If she could be anything she ever wanted, it would be the one he loved. [Request] Part 1 of 2.

Word Count: 849

A/N: To the anon, I’m sorry it took me literally 4 weeks (yikes). 

PART 2


Everyone says that we fall in love with people we can’t have. She knew she’s already lost him and it’s selfish, really. Because watching her best friend fall in love with someone else wasn’t exactly easy and Y/N struggled.

It’s been nearly three months and she’s managed to get used to it. She hates how naive he was. It was frustrating, to say the least considering that Michele and Ned were actually able to figure it out themselves. He couldn’t take a hint but sometimes, his actions would say otherwise.

Y/N had to watch him adore her from afar. She was everything he ever wanted. To Peter, Liz always seemed to light up the room. But he was Y/N’s sun. He was her moon and her stars. God, she was merely anything to him anymore and it was horrible. 

Here she is right now, pouring herself a drink on one corner of the high school gym transformed with fancy lights and a stage at the other end of the venue.

“Why are you all alone on a night like this?”

She turns around wishing it was Peter by her side only to see Flash Thompson. Y/N manages to stop her eyes from rolling, sending him a tight lipped smile instead.

She takes another swig from the plastic cup before shrugging her shoulders. “It’s not really my thing.”

“Well if you don’t mind,” Flash says while inserting his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I’d really like to dance with you.”

“Yeah.” Y/N couldn’t help but smile for the sake of distracting herself. “That would be nice.”

What she doesn’t notice is Peter staring from a distance. There’s sadness in his eyes, slowly feeling her slip through his fingers. Her hair flows past her shoulders in a loose braid with her dress perfectly hugging her body. She was art in its purest form.

He’d fallen in love with her a long time ago and it angered him because it took Y/N being held in someone else’s arms to realize it.

It’s stupid of her to use him as some sort of rebound, but she hasn’t seen Peter since he arrived with Liz so it must’ve helped at some point.

Of course, she spoke too soon. 

“Excuse me.” Interfering the pair, Peter sends Flash a look. “Can I talk to her for a minute?” He pulls her out of the crowd before giving him the chance to answer.

“Peter?” Dumbfounded, she lets go of his grip. “What’s going on?”

“What the hell, Y/N?” He hissed. “Out of everyone in the whole school, you take him?”

“It was just one dance, come on—”

Peter was fuming, balling his fists on his sides in an attempt to compose himself. ”And you agreed? I thought you were better than that.“

“I’m sorry? Why does it matter to you?” Her voice was rising by the minute, catching the attention of some students nearby.

“You can’t— Not him—”  

“Because it’s none of your business.” She grits her teeth, eyes flashing and muscles tensing as she held her purse in a tight grip.

“I love you, Y/N.”

This was all she ever wanted. This was all she ever wanted to hear but it was making her nauseous.

“Talk to me. Please.” He’s practically begging, hot on her heels. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Y/N crosses her arms. “I’m going home.“

“Are you dating him now?” He spoke softly in disbelief, voice almost breaking as he throws his arms up in despair. His voice echoes in the dark corridor, she’s not sure if she heard him right, her mind is hazy and she stops walking before she can get through the door, scanning his disheveled figure.

“God, no! It’s you, Peter. It’s always been you!” She’s choking back her tears, hands quivering as she desperately tries to hold herself together. “I’ve loved you for so long. I wanted to move on and when I finally decide to do something about it, you start running after me.“

There’s silence between the two, a blank expression appearing on Peter’s face yet she could see right through him. He was confused. Lost.  

“Was it the attention? Did you love knowing that you could break my heart?” It’s unfair but anger was flowing right through her, unable to control the words coming out of her. His mouth dries up, heart rate suddenly increasing. “I didn’t know, I never wanted to—“

“You already have.”

It felt like the wind was knocked out of his lungs, he wasn’t aware of the pain he’s caused but it was too late. Peter was blinded for so long because everything he was looking for was standing in front of him.

Watching him love someone else.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Footsteps started approaching and Liz’s voice echoes across the hall. “Hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” She says with a smile across her face. Peter nods, muffling a soft apology.

And when he turns back his head, Y/N was already gone leaving nothing but an empty hallway.


Requests

Masterlist 

3

Whenever you saw Emma and Hook around each other either alone or with a larger group, your mood declined heavily. You could go from an idle conversation with Snow and Hook, to complete silence when Emma showed up. In your mind you couldn’t compare to her ocean blue eyes, lovely blonde locks, and her bright smile that lit up an entire room. No, in your mind you weren’t even on the scale from one to ten compared to Emma Swan.

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Last

none of you asked for this which is why I’m writing it

Natsu grinned at his favorite cat, wondering what he could have done to deserve such a loyal creature. As the exceed flew ahead to join in conversation, the boy lifted his eyes to the sky. A wispy cloud hovered above, slightly blocking the sun. 

His book was gone, and Natsu knew all too well his fate. He frowned momentarily, gripping his scarf for comfort, for a hold on reality. He felt a certain desperation for life that was too far out of his broken reach. His mind began to cloud with thoughts and wishes he held for the future, for when everything was over. Those wishes were never fated to occur. Hands slightly trembling, Natsu fought the consuming fear, he had to. He had no desire to see them, to see her, so upset. As quickly as his despair had arrived, it departed as he heard her voice. 

“When things calm down a bit, I want to go on another adventure.”

Natsu smiled softly. A strange feeling of relief cleansed him from knowing she would continue to live. He wanted to tell her so badly to live for him, and to not be sad when he was gone. The words rose on his tongue, but he bit them back. Tightening his clenched fists, he reminded himself that he wanted to see them smile before he died. Not cry. 

Natsu stopped walking, feeling incredibly fatigued all of a sudden. He held his head, struggling to focus his eyes on his parting friends. She was laughing, slightly turning her head towards Happy. Life seemed to move in a painful yet warm slow motion; her golden hair slightly drifted across the breeze he could no longer sense. 

His eyes closed, letting himself go. Whispering a final word that could never be audible. 

Smile.

He screamed in frustration, gripping tightly to his golden locks of hair. “Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He cried out of despair.

The voices in his head ignored his desperate pleading, instead growing louder and louder every second. Hot, flushed tears streamed down his face contorted with pain. “Please,” he gasped, begging dearly as he weakly hit his head against the wall already full of holes from being punched multiple times.

“Get out of my head.

—  m.d. // excerpts from a book i’ll never write #49
My Saviour - Three

A/N: Almost done writing this series now, so if I keep up the good work, I’m gonna post twice a week. Thank you all for the great feedback, you guys all rock. It literally fuels me. Also a shout out to my beta @thorne93.

Characters: Dr!Dean, Lawyer!Sam, Reader, Alex (OMC), Benny, Ellen, Charlie.

Warnings: Angst, vomiting… Alex is a dick. I think that’s it.

Wordcount: 2719


Dean’s POV

It had been about a week since you had come into the emergency room with the broken arm, and you had frequently been on his mind, which was why he had once again pulled up all of your medical files. It wasn’t his place to do so, and it was definitely unprofessional of him, but he couldn’t just let this one go. As well as going through you files, he had been talking to a few of the doctors that had treated you whenever you had come in with an injury of some sort, and they all said the same thing. They all suspected that you were being abused, but as long as you didn’t say anything, and denied it everytime you got asked about it, their hands were tied, nothing could be done.

Dean was at a loss. He wanted to help you, to get you out of that house, to get you somewhere safe, but as a doctor, there was nothing he could do.

It was getting late when he decided to make the call, to reach out to someone who might be able to help him.

The phone rang just a couple of times before there was an answer at the other end of the line.

“Hey, man,” Sam greeted as he picked up the phone.

“Hey,” Dean said. “Are you busy? I could really use some advice right about now.”

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Soulmate! Jeong Sewoon

A/N: Here is my first Soulmate au and it features Sewoon who debuted yesterday. Please make sure to give his album a listen! Dedicating this to @pinksausageduo, who had been fangirling me with me on his album and who also hit 400 followers!! Congrats again & I’m so happy for you

Masterlist can be found (here)


“He walked into my heart like he always belonged there, took down my walls and lit my soul on fire.”

  • A universe where every voice except yours sounds the same to you until you hear your soulmate’s voice
  • Since you were born, everyone sounded the same 
  • It was always like a sort of low and deep voice 
  • You were taught to differentiate people by their looks and not how they sound to you 
  • You could tell if someone was angry or sad as emotions could still be heard, but it was just impossible to tell, regardless of gender, who was speaking to you unless you looked at them and saw their mouth moving
  • You didn’t know if someone had a honey voice like they claimed on tv or how someone singing could make you cry 
  • Your parents like to explain to you how your dad has a deep voice while your mum’s was a lot higher and airy 
  • The voices honestly scared you at times since you have gotten into trouble for unknowingly ignoring them 
  • After all, how would you feel when the same voice was that had been scolding you was suddenly praising you even if your eyes were telling you it was a different person?
  • The majority obviously had no problem to cope with it  
  • Due to that, you prefer to keep a small group of friend and you found solace in art
  • You didn’t need to listen to anyone to draw and your art teacher was honestly the nicest person ever
  • She purposely made all her lessons in powerpoint form just so you guys could just read it off the slides
  • She knew people will most likely doze off if they hear the same voice drone on for the past 6 hours in school 
  • Art was always something you could dump your frustration in and it mostly rely on your sight and touch
  • Your drawings always project your feelings on how you think voices would sound like and you even had a colour coding for different people’s voices that you think would sound like
  • Green was for those you think would have a lower voice while pink would for someone who will have a bright voice, purple would be those who soothe you and so on
  • You imagined your soulmate would have an ethereal voice hence the person was always drawn with your favourite colour, periwinkle blue
  • One day, your art teacher wanted you to have one of your art pieces to be displayed in the upcoming art exhibition during your school festival
  • You wanted it to be something really unique cause you knew there would be some art lecturers visiting and if they liked your piece, it might result in you getting a free scholarship to one of the most prestigious art colleges
  • You decided to look for inspiration during your lunch time 
  • After informing your friends, you took your sketch book and went to the school’s garden
  • Even while observing the scenery around you and listening to the sound of trees rustling and birds chirping, you were still looking at a blank piece of paper when you could’ve normally finished a general outline
  • Suddenly, the sweetest and most melodious laughter of a male entered your ears
  • You swore your heart stopped beating for a moment
  •  You instantly break off everything you were doing to look for the source
  • In that instance, all the murmurings you heard as you ran across the hallway sounded so different
  • But none of them was your soulmate
  • You spent your entire day looking for him in school but it was impossible to find him
  • That was the moment you realized while you have unlocked an important part of your life, you lost the key who had helped you
  • One week later, there was still no traces of him in school even if you searched high and low
  • You reckon he had been a visitor who left the instance you tried to find him
  • What were the chances he was even coming back?
  • You weren’t one to mourn for your losses but losing your soulmate was indirectly losing a part of yourself
  • You were sure your soulmate still did not realize your existence as you had not uttered a word yet when you heard him
  • You felt sad knowing you couldn’t share with him 
  • You decided to channel all your thoughts and feelings upon listening to his laugh onto your art piece 
  • The joy and the despair you felt and just how 5 seconds of his voice had already sent shivers to your lungs
  • On the day of the school festival, your friends and teachers praised you as your art piece was definitely a stunner, some even saying that it was no-brainer for you get the scholarship you wanted
  • It featured a life-size drawing of a boy with a periwinkle blue guitar holding a microphone that had throned vines on it
  • While his hand was bleeding, he still held on, seemingly singing his lungs out to the person he wanted to reach out to
  • You were grateful for their support but you knew that in your heart, you hoped that the painting could reach out to the person who had been haunting your mind every minute for the past week
  • You left the exhibition after explaining to several parents about it to get some food with your best friend as you were starving and you wanted to experience the festivals as well
  • Your annual school festival was one of the events it took pride in as all students took part in coming up with different booths and showcase their various talents
  • Besides parents, there were also many different schools who would visit the festival as there was no entrance fee and students would get discount regardless of which school they were from as long as they wore their school uniform
  • After having some fries, you walked back, chattering animatedly with your best friend
  • You enjoyed conversations like this now that you could easily differentiate voices
  • As you approached the painting again, you saw a boy in a uniform from the neighboring school reaching out for it, seemingly going to touch the painting 
  • “Hey! You can’t touch -”
  • But you froze when you heard him laugh and turned towards you
  • It was the same laughter you heard a week ago in the garden
  • It was like heaven to your ears and it tingled when it reached your earlobe
  • He walked up towards you with a warm smile and you noticed how everything about him was blue - his uniform’s vest, his shoes, and even his guitar case he had on his back
  • “It’s you, isn’t it? Well, I’m Jeong Sewoon and I’m your soulmate.” 

I’m a girl that LOVES angst and fights between couples but usually hates how writers choose to depict such scenes on screen. Up until now my only favorite on screen couple fight lines were these: “Were are you going?” “Home, away. I don’t know, I’m having trouble to even looking at you right now.” because it immediately strikes a cord you know? But then tonight’s episode of Riverdale came and Bughead’s fight was everything I could ask for. “To think I was gonna pass moving to Toledo with my family for you.” The line alone, along with Jughead’s hushed “for you” pierces right through the heart; the despair with which he says it, the disappointment in his voice that he had invested his future into somebody that he never thought was going to let him down is trully so deliciously painful to watch. The ground gets pulled from under his feet once again, hope brings him misery once again and this is so obvious in his statement, in his tone of voice, his facial expression, his posture. And then Betty’s teary and surprised “oh” comes, trembling out of her lips, and you can sense the moment she realizes that he’d always put her first and made decisions considering the both of them, a realization that stings at the moment because he seems regretful that he did so considering that her trust to him was easily bended. There’s an intensity in the fight, the same intensity that colors their feelings towards each other, and it went perfectly with the mentallity that is Betty and Jughead. 

I Promise-(Scott McCall)

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

Character: Scott McCall and (Y/N)

Word Count: 584

Pairing: Scott x Reader

Warnings: mentions of rape

Summary: Intimacy with Scott turns real sweet reassuring(?)


I moan a little as Scott trails soft kisses down my neck to my collarbone. His tender kisses leave me weak all over. His hands roam my body, one settling on my ass and the other on my neck. My hands tug at his hair, desperately wanting him to go further, but at the same time fearing what will come of it. 

As per usual, this is where the intimacy ends. Scott gently pushes himself off me and leans on his elbow to smile at me. He’d never push me too far, this is where he always stops.

A groan of protest escapes me as I grab him by the collar of his unbuttoned flannel and pull him atop me once again. I kiss him a lot rougher this time round and let my hands roam his toned chest. 

I can feel him wanting to succumb to pleasure and desire, but he’s restraining himself. Like usual, which I’m not necessarily mad about. But he doesn’t.

“W-wait. What are you doing?” Scott pulls away from me and looks down at my ragged form, his eyes pure red. 

I bite my lip a little and shrug. It’s normal to want to have sex with your boyfriend of years, though here it’s a little unusual. 

Scott pulls away and sits up next to me. I do the same.

“I just… I don’t want to be like this anymore. I don’t want to be depriving you of something that you probably want a lot.” I mutter and pull my legs towards me to hug them. I look at Scott with a small but unsure smile. 

A year ago, we attended one of the underground parties in order to catch some chimeras. But while Scott was far out of hearing range, I was taken advantage of. And since then, Scott’s been blaming himself for not getting there in time to help me. He’s refused to touch me because he didn’t want to hurt me. But now he’s warming up, and so am I.

“Oh god, don’t feel like you have to have sex with me just because it’s what every teenage boy wants, (Y/N). I don’t want to hurt you in any way possible and I couldn’t care less about the sex.” Scott intertwines our fingers together as he speaks, his voice full of despair and regret. He tries to reassure me as best as he can given the circumstance.

I sigh a little and look at him with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I’m just worried about how things will turn out in the long run…” I trail off and give Scott a sad smile. Truth be told, I know he wouldn’t leave me just because of sex, but there’s always that doubt. And that doubt is enough to make me go near enough insane. 

Scott shakes his head a little before pulling me down to lie down. He turns me around so I’m facing him. 

“Listen to me. I love you, okay? We have years and years left together. I want this to be perfect for you, and I seriously don’t mind waiting. We can start of small, taking baby steps. I won’t leave you, ever. I promise.” Scott smiles at me and places a gentle kiss on my forehead. He pulls me in closer to him so my head’s in the crook of his neck. His scent alone calms me down. 

A small smile appears on my face, though he can’t see it. 

“I love you too. Thank you for being patient with me.”

Wisdom Teeth (Batboys x Reader)

This is me trying to be funny. Sorry if anything is ooc

Originally posted by seaofcomics

“You owe me big time for this.” You huffed into the phone. This was not your ideal way to spend your Friday night.

“Oh come on Y/N, it’s one night and it will probably be hilarious.” Dick countered. He was right, watching the usually mild mannered batboys drugged out of their minds would be funny. But you would also have to deal with the bleeding gums that comes from the wisdom teeth surgery.

“Fine!” You relented to your boyfriend. “But you’re ordering me pizza.”

Keep reading

you are the brightest color

- in which Alexander Hamilton has (audio-visual) synesthesia and he sees John Laurens’s voice in a series of yellows


Before John, Alex saw the world in a series of murky colors. The sounds of the world muddled together in colors of  distorted greens and apocalyptic yellows. Every so often he’d experience a slum of mud stained blues, and luckily those would only happen once in a blue moon. Aside from that, those were the colors Alex experience day in and day out. Until he met John.

When he met John, his world went from a series of murkiness, to the brightest of hues, colors he hadn’t experienced since before his mother passed away.

John was a soft, sun-shining, yellow.

Whenever he spoke, hues of both soft and sharp yellows would fill Alexander’s senses. When his voice was soft, and above a whisper, he saw the sweetest of honey yellows; and when his voice was pitched with excitement, Alex saw bursts of yellow. Ranging from the lightest of pastel yellows, to the smoothest of lemony-yellows, Alex loved his sunshine, John Laurens. He especially loved it when John laughed, my god did he love it.

Whenever he did, he’d instantly be blinding with an overwhelming sight of the brightest of yellow’s, instantly reminding him of the sun. His laughter was probably the best sounds he’d ever heard, and the brightest color he’d ever seen.

But of course, with the brightest of colors came the darkest of hues. And they effected Alex the most when John was upset.

Whenever John was upset, Alex saw it before he heard it. But no matter how much he tried to prep himself for the murky, washed out yellows, the colors that came with the broken tone in John’s voice always crushed him.

When John’s voice became laced with a cracking, dark blue, and a black stained yellow, Alexander’s heart shattered. He hated those colors. He hated the colors that reminded him of the shrieks and grieving moans of his people back home. He hated the muddy stained blues, and the pinches of poisoned yellows that John spoke when his voice cracked with despair. He especially hated it when John cried, my god that was the worst. All traces of yellow vanished from John’s voice. Having it replaced with tarnished grays and colors of rusted blues, Alex would make it his mission to do whatever it took to bring back the wide range of yellows he knew that were buried within John’s being.

Sometimes it seemed almost impossible to pull John’s yellows out of him. But more often than not, Alex was successful in clearing John’s palate and helping him repaint it with the different shades of yellow that were almost as beautiful as him.

All in all, Alex loved his sunshine boy, John Laurens. He loved all the yellows that laced perfectly with his voice. He loved how bright his voice could be, he especially loved how blinding his laughter could be. He loved John Laurens; and he loved the color yellow.

Thoughts about this (final) episode of season 2:

- The Jearmin.  All of it.  Armin doing his little hop of his horse IMMEDIATELY as soon as he saw Jean was thrown off his.  Protecting him with his life even though getting off your horse in titan territory is basically suicide.  Aka, RIP my heart.  Armin and Jean working together after the fact to figure out what happened with the titan’s mysterious actions.

- Mikasa looked stunning in this episode.  Her scene was very heartfelt.  The scene where Eren activates the coordinate is emotional and pretty damn spot on to the manga.  Even the scene where Mikasa leans in is just as ambiguous as it is in the manga (if you personally see it as ambiguous, that is).  Yuki Kaji’s voice acting when he despaired over Hannes’ death and his inability to change anything was FANTASTIC.  Seriously, kudos to the guy.  I was taken aback.  I have no idea how the dub is even going to come close to this, no offense.  

-  Historia’s scene where she proclaims that being with Ymir makes her feel brave and her triumphant smile as she flies through the air like a warrior Queen made me feel so elated.  And then my heart was promptly crushed when Ymir said her goodbye….for the last time….

- Ymir’s scene of “it’s not so bad to be a goddess”, I wasn’t sure it would make it into the episode but I’m so glad it did.  Wow wow.  It’s so unfair though, considering everything that happens.  STOP BEING SO KIND YMIR WTF GET OUTTA THERE.  

- Armin and Eren’s shared glance just before the coordinate scene.  It’s small but It was important to me so I’m glad they left it in.  Also, I’m glad they had Armin being the one to bring Eren and Mikasa a horse.  He told them they had to hurry, very matter of fact, but the little tears he had in his eyes betrayed his fear for them.  So sweet….

- I am totally cool (more than cool, actually) with them ending the episode with Zeke.  Holy shit I am so ready.  Because that leads me to….

SEASON 3! IN 2018!!!! I CANNOT BELIEVE! IT FEELS LIKE CHRISTMAS HAS COME EARLY YALL! And it looks like they’re including the RTS arc, if those previews are anything to believe.  Which means two cours is likely.  GOD YES.  I take back my words about WIT studios, you guys are back in my good graces.

Thank you for a great season :’) 

Flood my Mornings: Service

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

  • This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.
  • Previous installment:  Thanks (Thanksgiving and Bree’s Birthday)

Late November, 1950

[CEBF]

“Bath time, little smudge!”

Bree squealed and, like a shot, went barreling toward the bathroom. Turning two years old seemed to have turned on a tap of perpetual energy from on high: energy to throw tantrums, energy to hate going to bed, energy to form VERY strong opinions about what she did and did not plan to eat, and so on, and so forth for all time. 

However, she had also decided she loved baths, and by the time I arrived at the tub myself, she was already standing on the bathmat, triumphantly nude and brimming with expectation with her toys in hand. I laughed and kissed the top of her head. “One minute, you goofy girl.” 

I poked my head briefly into the living room. “Do you want bath duty or bedtime duty tonight?”

“I’ll take bed, if it’s all the same to you, Sassenach,” Jamie said, looking up from the rolltop. “I’d like to get the rest of the bills paid and ready for tomorrow’s Post.”

“Fine by me,“ I said, taking the chance to stretch my back, already thinking of plopping into bed as soon as humanly possible. “Thank you for handling those, sweetheart.”

“’Course,” he said with feeling, rising and kissing my forehead. “How are ye feeling?” 

“Pretty well, at the moment,” I said, pleasantly surprised, now that I thought about it. “Like death, this morning, but I haven’t vomited once since lunch!” 

“Victory, indeed,” he grinned, kissing me, long and sweetly. 

MaMAAAA?” bellowed Bree, her voice bouncing ghoulishly around the bathroom walls. “Come’on do insee’pyder, please!”

“I’m being summoned,” I murmured against his lips. 

“Go,” he whispered. “Heaven forbid ‘insee’pyder’ have to wait.” 

“Oh,” I called when I was halfway back down the corridor, “I think the electric bill came today. It’s on the counter by the phone with the rest of today’s mail.”

“Thank you, mo ghraidh,” he called back. 

Tub filled, baby inserted, bubbles abundant, I knelt beside the tub and swirled my hands in the warm water. Bree beamed up at me, ready: “GO! Insee’pyder, Mama!”

Alright,” I said dramatically, reaching for the green plastic sandbox bucket and scooping up water as I sang: “Theeeeeeee ITS-Y-bit-sy spiiiiiider went UP the water spout ….”

I raised the bucket theatrically. “Down came the raaaaaain AND—”

The payload released on, “WASHED the spider out,” dousing Bree with warm, soapy water. 

Fizzy giggles emerged through the waterfall pouring down her scrunched-up face as I sang on. “Out came the suuuun and dried up all the rain, and the ITS-Y-bit-sy spiiiiider went UP the spout—?”

“—AGAIN!!!” Bree finished, knowing the drill and LOVING it.

We had just finished washing the shampoo-spider from her hair and ANOTHER rendition was demanded, when Jamie’s voice came from the doorway. “Sassenach?” 

“Yes, darling?” I said absently, reaching for the bar of soap Bree had just knocked into the water. 

“What is the ‘selective service?’”

My blood froze absolutely cold. I whirled on my knees to gape at him, praying that it was a newspaper clipping in his hand, or one of his library books, or—

But it was a letter bearing the words ‘Department of Defense’ across the top. The truth was written on his face, the tightness of his voice, the rigid set of his jaw. “Tis the forced conscription for the war in the east, aye?”

“Jamie—” I staggered to my feet, praying in blind panic. Please, God, no. “Jamie—Please tell me—you haven’t been—?”

To Mr. James Fraser,” he read, 

“According to our records, you have not yet registered with the Selective Service, as is required of all permanent residents of the United States. 

Please report no later than December 15th, 1950 to the enlistment station named below for registration, or risk revocation of your residency status with the Department of Immigration. 

Sincerely…”

Jamie trailed off, his face a mask of control I hadn’t seen in many years. The sight terrified me to my core—his face of duty, of danger, of great burdens to be borne.  

My hands were shaking as I reached for the letter, as I scanned it wildly for some salvation. “But you’re—you’re not even a citizen! They can’t just force you to go off and fight in their wars!”

“Apparently they can,” he said stiffly. “’All permanent residents,’ it says.”

“Jesus…” There was no way out. “Jesus—fucking—”

“FUN-KING!” Bree squeaked from the tub, sounding immensely pleased. Normally, that would have incited riotous laughter, then stern admonishment and promises between Jamie and I to guard our words more carefully. But we barely noticed. 

My blood pounded so loudly in my ears I could barely hear myself blurting, “We could go to Canada." 

He cocked his head in question. “They dinna fight wars there?”

I gave a jerking shrug. “They don’t usually start them, at least.”

“That’s the coward’s way,” he whispered, his face still stone. “I canna just run.”

“And why not?” I demanded, my voice treacherously close to both tears and shouting.

Why can I no’ take the coward’s way?” The mask wavered, showing his scorn. “Christ, Claire, do ye no’ ken me at all?” 

“And do YOU not know me?” I shouted. “Do you not have the faintest idea what it DID to me to—” It took only the cracking of my voice for the panic to overtake me completely in wracking sobs as my hands went feral. “ —to let you go to your death? For a cause you—shouldn’t even have been dragged into in the first place?? I w—” I choked. I was mere inches from his face, but I could barely see him through the tears. I wrenched a breath from my throat. “—WON’T, do it—again—do you—hear m—?”

Jamie suddenly snatched me hard against him, his voice a cracked moan of despair through his own sobs. “I know, mo chridhe…I know….”

I buried my face in his chest, and could only croak, “Jamie—”

He tried to say something, but couldn’t get a word out. 

We clung to one another with every ounce of strength, swaying and weeping for a long time, until —

“I’m scairt of this, Sassenach.” 

His breath was hot and gasping in my hair. “God, I—dinna want any part of it…. The thought of leaving ye….the—” He let out a sob, and I could feel his tears against my temple, the resonance of his words in my chest. “—Christ, the bairns—” 

He buried his face in my shoulder. “I’m so scairt, Claire.”

“What’s you scairt, Daddy?”

We turned to see Bree standing in the tub, still naked as you please, looking up, stricken.

With a small sound that broke my heart, Jamie released me and crossed to the tub. He lifted his daughter up into his arms and pressed her against his chest, not seeming to notice that his shirt was instantly soaked.

“Daddy? What’s you scairt?” she repeated. 

I had to clamp my hand over my mouth. He clutched her tighter, rocking her, focusing his entire being on love of her. 

“Use-r words, Daddy.” 

Despite everything, he choked out a laugh at that. 

“I’m scairt,” he answered hoarsely after a moment, “of having to leave you and Mama, a chuisle.”  

“Oh…” 

I came and wrapped my arms around them both, trying so very hard not to slip into panic. This—this was my home, these three people I held—That it might be ripped from—

“Dinna leave though’kay?” Bree demanded, glaring sternly at him. “Okayyyy, Daddy?”

Okay?” I seconded in a feeble whisper.

He let out another weak, broken laugh and leaned down to kiss us both. I could feel his chest shuddering with the sobs he was suppressing. 

The words were in Gaelic, breathtakingly quiet, and he repeated them over and over.

 "I won’t…I won’t.”

When he drew back a long, long time later, his eyes were dry. “Now,” he said, kissing Bree and wrapping a towel around her shivering back, “let’s get ye ready for bed, wee cub. Which storybook shall we have, tonight?”


[JF]

Jamie resolved never to let Claire or Brianna see his fear of this ever again. 

“I’ll go tomorrow to register my name,” he said firmly to Claire as he held her in their bed that night, “but it willna come to anything, Sassenach.” There are millions of folk they’ll call up before me.” 

“You don’t — ” 

“Dinna fash, mo nighean donn,” he crooned, kissing and soothing away her fears. “I’m staying right here—We’ll no’ be parted—I’m right here—”

But he lay awake far into the night and most nights to follow, praying with all his soul.

Please, God….

Please….

Dinna take me from them.

Please….

Please…..


[more to come]


From the prompts: 

@dlouise2016 said: This may not be appropriate for FMM but in response to your request for Jamie “firsts” & since he is only about 27-28, there was a military draft going on at the time for the Cold War & the Korean War. Since Jamie was certainly a warrior, he must have some strong feelings about war & Claire definitely would with her WWII experience  

@chechzooo suggested: Staying out of the draft

Transfixed

A/N: An anon request for an angsty smut piece where the reader walks into Spencer’s apartment to see that he is seriously thinking about using again. @coveofmemories @sexualemobitch @jamiemelyn @unstoppableangel8 @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @hogwarts-konoha @lukeassmanalvez @sweetg @yoinkpeter 

Warnings: Smut

                                                               —-

“Spence?” Walking into the apartment felt like walking into a mausoleum - barely lit, stale, quiet save for the occasional creaking that sent shivers up your spine. It felt wrong. Spencer’s apartment was always on the darker side, but it was warm and inviting, never without the smell of musty old books and freshly-brewed tea.

Since joining the BAU four years earlier, you’d set foot in Spencer’s apartment more times than you could count, but this time it felt different. You knew that the cases were getting to him a lot lately, especially this last one, but your heart beat frantically in your chest as you rounded corner after corner wondering what you might find. “Spence?” Again, you got no answer. Each step was a step further into uncertainty; it was bringing tears to your eyes.

When you gently slipped open the door to his bedroom, you felt simultaneous relief and heartbreak. Your mind had gone to the worst possibly thought - that maybe he’d tried to do something to himself and succeeded. He was sitting upright on the bed staring down blankly at his nightside table. 

On the dark and dingy wood, scuffed and marred by years of spilled drinks, and fingernails desperately searching for the snooze button, stood a small bottle of some kind of clear liquid. At first, you couldn’t figure out what it was, but when you looked between him and the bottle, his gaze so stark and transfixed it scared you, you knew what it was. He told you about those few short years after he started at the Bureau - what happened in Atlanta. 

Kneeling down, you placed your hand on his knees. “Spence, it’s not worth it. You’re not alone. You don’t need to do this.” As soon as you started at the Bureau, Spencer became your best friend; he was the one you could always come to for comfort, and he felt the same way about you. He’d texted you to ask you to come over. He didn’t want to do this; he wanted someone, you, to talk him out of it. “Spence, look at me.”

The tap of the knee turned him toward you finally. It was as if he had just allowed himself to blink, realizing that someone was here. “I wasn’t here when this happened before, but I’m here now. You don’t need that. You’re not alone.”

“Can you take it away from me?” Because of his seeming vacancy, you’d expected his voice to be low and meek, but he wasn’t; he was very sure of what he was asking. “I don’t trust myself.”

You bit your bottom lip and choked back the tears. He needed you to be strong right now, so you did your best. “Is there any more? Don’t hold back. If there’s any more anywhere in the apartment, let me know so that I can take it away.”

Spencer swallowed hard and stood up, waiting for you to grab the bottle already in view before walking to the bathroom cabinet and revealing a bottle, and the kitchen cabinet, to reveal one more. “That’s it,” he said, his eyes downcast toward the floor, ashamed. “That’s all of them, I swear.”

“Look directly at me and say it again.”

“That’s all of it. I swear.”

More than anyone else you knew, you could tell when Spencer was lying, and he wasn’t. “I believe you. What do you need me to do?” Under normal circumstances, there was nothing you wouldn’t do for Spencer, so right now, there was truly nowhere you wouldn’t go and nothing you wouldn’t do to make him feel better.

“Can you just stay with me for a while?” He hated showing his vulnerability, but he would with you.

You placed the three bottles of dilaudid into your bag and grabbed his hand, leading him to the couch where you sat in the corner and motioned for him to join you. In just a few swift movements, he laid down across the remainder of the couch and placed his head in your lap. “Just take deep breaths,” you said. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

As he took his first deep breath, you ran your hands through his hair, massaging his scalp to try and help him to relax. At first, it wasn’t working - through closed eyelids, you could see his eyes filling with tears. “It’s okay, Spence.”

“It’s not,” he said instantly. “It’s not okay. I thought I was stronger than this.”

“Spence, you called me to tell you not to do this. Not only did you leave yourself vulnerable to me, you didn’t actually do it - that takes strength.” Heated tears slipped down your cheeks. You were doing your best to stay strong for him, but seeing him in so much pain - hearing the despair in each crack of his voice - was ripping you apart. “That takes so much strength. Please give yourself credit.”

He seemed to take your words to heart, because he broke out into a fit of silent tears. You let him cry. His tears slowly but surely slipped out your jeans, soaking the material through and through, until about 20 minutes later when he stopped.  Sitting up, he took a deep breath. “Thank you for coming over.”

Anytime, Spence. Seriously. Do you want some tea?”

He nodded; tea would probably do him some good right now. After putting on a pot, you sat back at his side. “You’re never alone. Please remember that.”

“I know,” he replied, his lips turning upward into the smallest of smiles. “That’s why I texted you.”

Nearly an hour went by in silence while you both drank your tea. After washing dishes for him, you turned to leave, stopping in your tracks when he said your name. “Y/N…thank you again.”

Turning around, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in, a few silent tears of your own making their way onto his shirt. When you tilted your head upward to tell him again that he never had to do this alone, some unknown force made you lean in to brush your lips against his. Spencer moaned just slightly into your mouth, bringing his hands to the sides of your head and taking your mouth in a desperate kiss. He gathered you close to him by the small of your back and brought you back inside, kicking the door closed.

When he pinned you up against the wall to lock it, you pulled your mouth from his. “Are you sure, Spence? I am more than okay with doing this, but only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” he whispered. 

With his okay, you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist and started to unbutton his shit as he ran his lips up the length of your neck, gently licking and kissing along the way and bringing goosebumps to your skin. His left handed glided up the side of your neck to tangle itself in your hair before you moved his arms to push the shirt off his shoulders. The delicate muscles of his shoulders rippled as he hoisted you into a more comfortable position and briskly walked you back toward his bedroom where you’d found him earlier. 

Before laying you down, he pulled your shirt up over your head and kissed between the valley of your breasts, seemingly drowning himself in you. As your heated skin came into contact with cool sheets, you reached behind your back to undo your bra, throwing it out of your line of sight. 

All trace of tears had disappeared. Now his eyes reflected a deep-seeded need. He came to hover over you, his tongue parting your lips as his hand slipped into your panties, feeling the wetness that had accumulated there. Of course there was time for foreplay, but you were both beyond that right now. 

If you wanted him as badly as you did, you couldn’t imagine how Spencer felt. Open mouthed kisses traveled down your torso as he removed your jeans and panties; his mouth slipped over your sex and made you even more desperate for skin on skin contact.

After removing his own pants and briefs, he returned to the bed and lifted your leg around his waist. “Are you sure, Spence?” You asked him one more time. Last thing you wanted was for him to regret this in the morning because he was in a vulnerable place. Even completely naked, if he wasn’t comfortable with this, you’d get up and leave and try to pretend things had never come this far.

“I’m positive,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion as he placed himself at your entrance and slid inside. Your sex enveloped him immediately and you cried out into his neck, your hands tangled in his hair again. Spencer whimpered into your mouth as he thrusted in and out of you, seeking relief from the thoughts running around his brain - the ones that had brought you here to begin with. 

As he pumped in and out of you, you grasped at his back, nails raking against taut muscles as his teeth gently bit down on your neck. “Oh, fuck…Spence…oh my god. Please.”

He responded in kind, increasing his pace as he moaned into your mouth. You cried out again and took control, pushing against him so you could turn him over and have him underneath you. Once in position, you laid flush against him and moved your hips in figure eights, grinding your sex down onto him with the practiced expertise of a dancer. “Fuck, Y/N…I’m gonna…I-I…”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, swallowing his guttural groan as he arched underneath you and dug his fingers into your hips. “Come for me, Spence.” You followed closely behind, shaking with the force of your release.

Falling to the side, you let your hand rest on his chest while he caught his breath. “Do you want me to go?” You asked. He hadn’t said anything, and if he was regretting this, you needed to leave as soon as possible. 

“No.” He said it instantly and forcefully, almost scared that you wanted to leave. “I want you to stay. I r-really want you to stay.”

“Okay, good,” you whispered, pressing your lips against his. “I’m just gonna use the bathroom and I’ll be right back.” You didn’t expressly state it, but Spencer knew what you were doing. You flushed the dilaudid down the toilet and cleaned yourself up before returning to him. When you slipped underneath the blankets, he gathered you close to him and placed a kiss in the crook of your neck. “You’re not alone, Spence,” you said again, your eyes drifting close, both emotionally and physically exhausted. “You’re never alone.”

As sleep overtook you both, his hand gave yours a gentle squeeze. He made it through the day. Tomorrow was a new journey.

Technicolor: Pt 1(?)

So this was inspired by the Black and White to Color Soulmate au by @adriexnette I hope you don’t mind but I really loved the au idea you had and wanted to write something for it.

Might continue this if I get inspired some more (writing and time has been difficult lately)


Color he could suddenly see color and it was beautiful. The world around him was filled…. it was awe inspiring…. He didn’t even know what the names for the colors he saw were he just knew that they were beautiful and the color that Ladybug wore was his favorite… The first battle with her was dizzying, he could hardly focus, there was just too much to look at and more importantly he had her to look at and she looked damn beautiful in color. More exciting then the sudden beauty surrounding him however was the fact that he had finally found her, he had finally found the girl that he was meant to be with and she was more than amazing. He wouldn’t much mind going back to living in black and white as long as she remained in color…


Marinette watched the people around her. As someone who had seen color from such a young age she didn’t quite see the world as everyone else did. She had always seen the colors and to her they didn’t really seem all that remarkable. Yes they were extremely helpful in design but… she would give it al up if she could just know who he (or she) was…. Marinette sighed as she watched a couple from across the street, they talked animatedly and pointed to random things around them like the bright red roses and the horrid orange color of his shirt. They were seeing color for the first time but more exciting than that they had found each other. Marinette shook her head as she looked away from the couple and continued her way to school. The thing about Marinette was she had know way of knowing if she ran into her soulmate again and because of that she had a different way of looking at love. While others didn’t even consider dating until you had them see color Marinette wished just once someone would take her on a date, just for fun because why not? The chances of her ever finding hers again after all this time were damn near impossible so why not go out and have fun and just pretend even if it was for one night. It would be nice to have someone to get dressed up for, to laugh and walk around town arm in arm… but Marinette had resigned herself to knowing she would never have that. Especially not with the boy who made her heart race, the boy who had met his soulmate only a day before he met her… what could she have expected really, she was doomed to end up alone. At least you can see in color,  Marinette thought bitterly to herself.


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|Longing Glances And Cute Nicknames|

When Scott called him to inform him that there will be a pack meeting in the evening to see how everything was going since the Alpha has gone to college,Liam was thrilled. That means he would see Scott, Stiles and a lot of his old friends. That made him so happy inside. But his heart nearly exploded in his chest when Scott told him that Theo was invited. He was beyond ecstatic when Scott told him that he would be part of the pack. After everything the chimera did for them to redeem himself, he deserved it. Liam was glad to be the witness of the change within Theo. The fact that Theo took Gabe’s pain was a revelation. He was so proud of him, he almost hugged him out of emotion. Why he didn’t? Because he would just be embarrassing himself, probably. He would surely end up looking at his handsome features, staring at his beautiful and mesmerizing eyes and endlessly sniffing his delightful perfume. Just like he was doing, right now. He was sure that he looked like a freak. Liam couldn’t help that mysterious attraction, it was like a magnet.

When they met at Deaton’s clinic, as soon he saw his face, he beamed with pride and affection. He gracefully ignored the incredulous and curious looks of his pack mates. Corey and Mason was looking at their friend with a knowing look on their faces.

“What have you been up to lately?” Liam asked, walking closer to Theo.

“Oh,nothing much. I was just hanging around.” Theo absently said, sending a side glance to the beta.

“So you were waiting around here, waiting for everybody to accept you as a member of the pack?” Liam asked,a smug look on his face.

Theo was taken aback, his face reddening by being put on the spot. Liam smirked, proud of himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,angry puppy.” Theo said, still blushing.

“Yeah, whatever you say, hot topic.” Liam said in a mocking voice, rolling his eyes.

Theo raised an eyebrow, turning his head at him.

“Oh, you think I’m hot?” Theo said with a soft smile, putting his hands on his hips.

Fuck. The nickname left his lips without thinking about it.

He could feel himself blush under Theo’s mocking gaze.

“Shut up.” Liam muttered, lowering his head a little. He heart skipped a beat when he heard the sweet sound of Theo’s chuckle.

“Theo can you stop staring at Liam like he’s your whole world ? It’s creepy and you’re going to scare him.” Mason suddenly said, visibly proud of himself. Corey chuckled at His boyfriend and gave him a high five.

Liam blushed harder and Theo groaned softly, a few waves of embarrassment coming off of him.

“Did something happened that you didn’t tell me while I was away?” Scott asked, scratching his neck. Liam widened his eyes at him.

“Nothing happened!” Theo and Liam said in unison, both reddening at the situation they were in. Scott raised an eyebrow and looked at Stiles, who responded with a shrug of his shoulders. Malia snorted, smelling the embarrassment coming of both boys like a tsunami.

Lydia grinned at Corey and Mason,silently congratulating them.

“Oh. My. God.” Mason said dramatically, rolling his eyes.

“Do we actually have to?” Corey asked Mason, who nodded in response.

“To what?” Liam finally said slowly, twitching his eye.

“Fucking God! Just make out already!” Malia yelled in frustration, earning a loud laugh from Mason and Corey and some confused looks from Scott and Stiles. Lydia just smirked, shaking her head at Malia’s comment.

Theo and Liam just gaped at the werecoyote, not daring to say a word.

“W-What?” Theo managed to say, his heart beating a storm inside his chest.

Liam just looked at him, shock apparent on his face.

“You dense bastards!” Corey mumbled, his face in his hands. Mason nudged his boyfriend in a chuckle.

“What?” Liam said.

“Great. We broke Theo and Liam.” Stiles groaned, his hands on his hips.

“Why can’t you see that you two have feelings for each other?” Lydia sighed, crossing her arms.

The boys gasped at her, blushing harder than before. She flipped her hair and shrugged in response.

“Okay, We’re gonna leave you two alone now. Have fun.” Mason suddenly said, dragging his boyfriend out of the clinic, followed by the rest of the pack, leaving Theo and Liam alone in the room. Theo sighed, rolling his eyes. He turned to Liam.

“Come on, you big foof. They were messing with us.” Theo said, looking at Liam over his shoulder. But Liam didn’t respond.

He turned to him, a worried look on his face.

“You okay?” The chimera asked softly.

Liam shakes his head. Theo heard him sniff a little. He was… crying?

“Hey, Liam?” Theo asked, walking to him.

“I don’t know what is happening to me, Theo.” Liam said, despair in his voice.

“I feel my heart beating faster when I’m around you, my body heat up when I’m close to you, my skin is on fire every time we touch, and I can’t help looking at you all the time. What is happening to me?” Liam cried, raising his head at him with a lost look in his eyes.

Theo’s heart skipped a beat at Liam’s sudden confession. Theo cupped his face, his thumbs caressing his cheeks softly.

“The answer is pretty simple actually, you like me very much.” Theo replied with a smile.

He leaned in,stopping himself when their lips were an inch apart, giving Liam a chance to pull back if he wants to. When he stayed still, Theo had his response.

The chimera slowly brings their lips together in a soft kiss. Liam sighed in the kiss, raising his arms to embrace him. Their lips were slowly moving together in a sweet waltz, transmitting their feelings to each other.

They pulled back, sighing in contentment.

Theo smiled at Liam, his eyes twinkling with emotion.

“You’re so beautiful, I can’t believe I finally have you all to myself.” Theo whispers to Liam, who blushed under his gaze.

“But before that, you have to take me out on a date.” Liam said with a smirk.

Theo chuckled softly.

“Then tonight is your night.” Theo said, winking at Liam. Liam responded with a wide smile.

“Hey! Don’t have sex in here! I don’t want my ears to bleed out!” Malia suddenly shouted from outside the clinic.

“What ?! Are they really having sex right now?! I’m gonna barf.” Stiles yelled in disgust. The two boys snorted at that.

“Of course not Stiles, Malia is messing with you.” Scott replied in a laugh. Theo and Liam could hear Stiles sighing in relief.

“That comes later.” Theo said in a deep voice, making Liam shiver.

The chimera took the beta’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. Liam smiled at him.

“Let’s get out of here.” Liam finally said.

They got out of the clinic, their hands together and their hearts beating as one.

|The End|